#i missed some things for sure but these are my thoughts!

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the black sheep

a/n: wrote this at five in the morning after i woke up from a nightmare ✌️

summary: “don’t,” a sharp breath filled your lungs as you shook your head and your eyes instantly squeezed shut, “don’t do that… don’t act like you care just because my father pays you. I know you’re no better than all of the others out there…” 

warnings: soft!mob!bucky x mob boss daughter!reader, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, forbidden romance, age gap, sexual references, horrible and abusive family, bullying, mental illness (depression, anxiety, stress), references to being institutionalised at a terrible place against one's will, party, dancing, crying

word count: 1511

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The creak of a heavy pair of boots crossing over the threshold found your ears, though didn’t persuade your neck to twist around and see who had appeared in the doorway. 

“Miss?” Bucky’s tone echoed quietly throughout the room as his metal hand continued to clutch the doorhandle he’d just twisted. 

But instead of tearing your eyes away from the night sky that twinkled on the other side of the window, you instead continued to sit on the floor, the fancy dress you’d been forced into wrinkling around your legs, as you faintly began to murmur, “you know, I wanted to be an astronaut when I was little…” your eyes traced one of the constellations gleaming above, “it wasn’t because I had some fascination with space, but it was the one thing I could imagine that would take me as far away from here as possible…” a breath escaped you before your vision finally floated back down to earth and you glanced over your shoulder, “would you mind closing the door? It’s so loud out there…” 

As you reunited your gaze to the world outside and you heard the door shut behind you, the mobster then carefully asked, “are you alright?” 

“Don’t,” a sharp breath filled your lungs as you shook your head and your eyes instantly squeezed shut, “don’t do that… don’t act like you care just because my father pays you. I know you’re no better than all of the others out there…” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tried to conceal his painful awareness of your situation. 

“I know what the others say behind my back,” you uttered, your mind haunted by their voices, playing the comments on a loop till they turned into boiling tar, “poor Y/n, weak and broken Y/n who is crazy and could never really be a part of this family… but unfortunately for everyone, I am,” you breathed, memories of your adolescence flooded your system, how they had sent you away to a broken institution at the smallest sign of vulnerability, “so I could never just leave. I couldn’t go out and earn my own money, they would cut off any attempt I made of getting a job in this city,” you pointed out their power, “and if I tried to get away, move to somewhere else, then they would have to take care of that as well because they can’t have a liability just out there. They own me, and they’ve made sure that I am nothing without them, and with them, I’d never be able to accomplish a goddamn thing. They wouldn’t hesitate to cut my life short if I ever stepped out of line again, you know that, it happened to my aunt… for all I know, it’ll probably happen as soon as my brother takes over, it is after all what everyone has surely wished for since the day I was born…” 

As those last few venting words escaped your lips, a sinking feeling bloomed in your stomach as you realised those shattering truths hadn’t been contained in your thoughts alone. 

“Oh shit…” tears began to blur your vision as you spun around and jaggedly rose to your feet, “please don’t tell anyone about any of that,” you took a panicked step forward, “I–… I didn’t mean any of it, it’s not–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly as you stared back at the gangster, “what do you want?” you attempted desperately, “do you want money? I could talk to my father and give you another leg up? I’ll give you whatever you want, just please don’t tell anyone, I–…” 

An idea then struck through your terrified blubbering, and without giving it another thought, you dropped down to your knees before him. 

“What are you doing?” he finally spoke, blinking down at you by his feet. 

Wiping your cheek as a steady flow of tears rolled down them, you then reached out for Bucky’s belt and sniffled, “you can have me, if that’s what could buy your silence.” 

But instead, your father’s right-hand man grabbed your hands, “stop,” he pleaded, “just stop.” 

Blinking up into his eyes, your hazy vision then drifted down to his fingers enveloping your wrists before you gloomily concluded, “…right…of course… I get it,” your head bowed even further as you uttered, “why would you think of me any differently… of course, you wouldn’t want me to touch you, you probably think I’m cursed just like the rest of them do…” 

But instead of ripping his touch away from your skin as if it was a scorching flame, Bucky’s frame suddenly lowered to be at your level, kneeling by you before he lifted one of your palms up to cup his stubbly cheek.

“I don’t,” a faint shake found his head, “never have,” you found yourself floating away into the ocean of his eyes as he stared back at you, his slow breath fanning across your wet cheeks at the close proximity, “I won’t tell anyone what you said,” he promised, his deep voice nearly at a whisper, “you have my word.”

But as you were filled with equal amounts of uncertainty, as well as shock, footsteps on the other side of the door found you both and tore you apart, just before the door ripped open and in strolled the boss himself. 

“Barnes!” your father’s glare landed on the mobster first before it shifted to find you, hastily wiping your cheeks, “oh great, you found her,” he uttered impatiently, “darling, come, it’s time for your brother to cut the cake. You need to be there,” he swiftly waved a hand for you to shadow him. 

The storm of the party made you feel as if you could come undone and burst into tears at any moment, pushing and shoving your shaky soul till you felt like just a tiny speck of dust floating around in the air. Keeping your gaze on the floor as you pushed through the bustling crowds, it stayed there as your sibling sank a shiny blade into the ridiculously elaborate cake that was rolled out for everyone to applaud. 

Raw and bleeding while the others drank and laughed, your vision finally found enough courage to flicker up, though only to find those same blue eyes, across the room and locked upon you. 

When the music soon was cranked up high and people swarmed to the middle of the floor in pairs, you briefly spotted one of your brother’s friends, a guy not too far from your own age, march straight towards you with an air of confidence that couldn’t help but relax your tense shoulders as you were slowly filled with hope. 

But as he neared and a greeting fell from your lips, a confused look muddled up his features as he shot you a glance before grabbing the waiting hand of a girl standing in the crowd behind you. 

Amused snickers and cruel comments found your ears even though you knew their tones attempted to be silent.

“What a freak.”

“Could you imagine if it had actually been her he’d wanted to dance with? In her dreams.”

“She should just run back to that insane asylum she somehow escaped from.”

With your back soon pressed up against one of the perimeter walls, a shadow then came to darken the spot on the floor your reddened eyes were glued to. 

“You wanna dance?” you glanced up with a wide pair of eyes to spot Bucky settled in beside you. 

“Why?” your brows knit together, “so that everyone can have another thing to laugh about?” 

Holding out his palm, he then let out a sigh, “just take my hand,” and the next thing you knew, your fingers were tangled in his own. 

Once he’d led you out onto the floor, your eyes darting around to all the bewildered glances that shot your way, a sudden breath then filled your lungs as his wide palm slid over your waist and dragged you in closer to his frame, causing your vision to cease their torture and meet his own steady gaze instead. 

The sway was slow and intimate, though you weren’t sure if the sensation terrified or calmed you, as the intoxicating way he made you feel had previously been something you’d packed far away as just an inconsequential crush back when he’d first started working for your father. Though as he held you in his arms and showed you a rare display of compassion, how could your heart not begin to thump once more?

With your gaze hazily cast over his shoulder as you danced so near that your cheeks almost touched, the warmth of his hand then slid down to your lower back before he whispered in your ear, “I know it won’t fix anything, but if it was up to me, you’d be the one inheriting this whole business, not your brother,” he uttered sincerely under his breath, “he’s a hot-headed idiot, while you are stronger and more brilliant than all of these fools combined.”

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[cursedcola]

Prompt: Couples will evidently begin to mimic their better half after some time. What traits do you steal from him, and vice versa? Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Everyone - because I want to and I’m amidst fleshing out all my Yuu/Character dynamics + designs Format: Headcannons. Masterlist: LinkedUP Parts: Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore (Here) | Ignihyde | Diasomnia A/N: Putting all my brain rot from my notes into something cohesive. Contrary to my love for ripping your hearts out, I've come with some fluff this time around. BTW you may or may not already do things mentioned - I write my works with a specific Yuu in mind for each character so this is based on them. Just a reminder.

Habits you steal:

Posture (Inherited): You know that scene in every princess movie, where they're in training with books balanced atop their head? Walking in circles over and over to maintain perfect posture? Yeah. Just yeah. It's one of his more annoying habits, for sure.

"Any further and you will kiss the table. Right yourself this instant." <-If you so much as slouch like the gremlin he truly does love - he will straighten you himself.

Social Freedom (Inherited): You are....a wonderfully weird character. Even by Twisted Wonderland's standards. Vil loves bringing out the intricacies in people and blossoming them into perfection. His confidence oozes and bleeds. Which is why being near him makes doing the most spontaneous and crazy things easy. Especially when there's such fondness behind his 'scolding'. You won't be camera shy or just shy in general, that's for certain.

"I never thought fleeting liberty could be portrayed as elegant. Alas, I am still yet to be convinced otherwise - but it is a wonderful look on you. That was a compliment, my dear." <- Others look at Vil as someone without the ability to let loose. They're correct to an extent, yet it does come easier with you. The last person he expected such a thing from.

Healthy Eating (Inherited): Vil follows a strict dietary regimen - he won't subject you to it's itinerary to a T. However, he is going to give the snide eye if you don't get a side salad with that pizza. He'll often order on your behalf at eateries or when the team is taking meal orders on set. Never in an oppressive way, it's always things you like, but he is stubborn when it comes to nutritional gain. There lingers a deep rooted discomfort that you'll one day feel neglected in his absence. Even if Vil isn't home, expect those ready-made meal packages to be sent to the door. Vil is nothing if not attentive - that much is for certain.

Pagers and Beepers (Inherited): A bit old-school, but he carries one. Vil can't always drop everything to check on his phone. He also puts the addictive device away two hours before bed to ensure better sleep - what he does keep on at all times is a functioning pager. This is Vil's preferred communication device and he expects you to have it on your person at all times. Never miss a beep. Especially if he is out for long periods of time, or you're in a state he's fussing over (gods do NOT get sick. He will be an absolute mess).

*Bzz* 'Home Late. 10:00.' *Bzz* 'Come to studio. Wear Mask & Bring Downtime Material' *Bzz* 'Still Sick? Have You Eaten Yet?' *Bzz Bzz Bzz* 'Love you. Miss you.'

Skincare (Inherited): Vil's very pushy when it comes to personal care - Epel can 100% attest to this, and takes every chance to voice his grievances (when Vil is not near, of course. Somehow word always gets back though). While he runs a tight ship, he's very sweet and takes your preferences into consideration when making products.

"Come here. Ah...your cheeks are reddened. Sunburn is a very dangerous opponent this time of year. Tsk. I fault myself for not thinking ahead. You might survive the occasional visit in Scarabia, but the Shaftlands climate is unpredictable." <- Vil will gently graze your cheekbones, already thinking over what potency of sun cream he needs to make. Everyone is different, after all. He already makes your perfume, shampoo, lotions, and cosmetics all from scratch - although he does have a preference for when you wear notes of citrus. Bright scents and soft looks suit your character (and are reflective of the effect you have on him). Beauty is an art, and you are his most precious canvas.

Wet-Wipes (developed): Yes, he owns smudge-proof lipstick. Yes, he could choose to wear said lipstick...Vil does not, and thoroughly enjoys seeing whatever shade he picked out smeared on your cheeks or lips. It's a rare bit of selfishness to waste time re-applying it, but he gets a bit of pleasure watching you scrub frantically at it in the mirror. Especially on days you have somewhere to be.

"Ahaha...oh? That look on your face is worth a bit of extra effort. I cannot expect to be rewarded without putting in the work, after all." <- It's a rare bit of unnecessary selfishness on his end. To waste his carefully crafted products, just to watch you scrub his mark off in the mirror. Not too frantic otherwise it'll earn a scolding...but he gets a brief twisted pleasure from it. Especially on days you have somewhere to be.

Apologies(Developed): You...always have to initiate apologies. He's nothing sour or stubborn. Vil can admit his faults when exposed to constructive criticism, and he will work on them. Do not expect things like silent treatment to work, because he will not give in. He is stubbornly attentive, making sure your pettiness won't bleed into life. Makes sure you still share meals together, etc. He will NOT apologize first though.

Habits he steals:

Junk Food (Inherited): Just like he tries to heal your body, you'll try to heal his heart through soul food. It's a part of bonding, and contractual between partners. Is he really going to sit there empty handed while you gorge on candy hearts after a bad day? He better have at least one, or you won't tell him what's wrong. What about peanut butter and potato chip sandwiches?

"You truly are one stubborn creature. Is your stomach made of impenetrable steel?... *sigh* I will taste this concoction of yours, but never claim that I do not love you. If I break out in a rash then you will have far worse to fear beyond my potions" <- He'll be disgusted, but you insist he has to have at least one bite. Just for the cultural experience. If you drink his convoluted potions, then he needs to try your culinary concoctions. Secretly? It's a bit thrilling. You're so wonderfully novel that he can act out any role without thinking the character weird. He's got the biggest weirdo at home after all.

Paparazzi (Developed): Vil will take the blunt end of the media to keep you hidden. He has a private account for people close to him on all sites, and knows what tricks to use so images can't be reused. Like always wearing the same outfit when accompanying you to the gym. This way pictures can't be reused. As much as he encourages you to blossom from your shell, he's a cautious fellow. Not unfamiliar with how obsessive some fans can be. When you're alone, there's always a body guard. Yet unwilling to make you nervous, he arranges for a more...secretive approach.

" - and how was your outing today? Rook is exceedingly knowledgeable on the tourism in this town. I'm sorry we could not go shopping together, but you bought me a gift surely?...hah! I'm merely teasing. It's good to hear that you both had a fun time exploring" <- It's honestly just Rook. Always Rook until the end of time. He's the only one Vil would trust to either politely follow, or simply hang out with you. You're familiar with him, Vil knows there are no ulterior motives, and he's got a sharper eye than most.

Cuddling (Developed): It's scientifically proven that cuddling improves the quality of one's sleep, did ya know? Get in the bed. Now. Don't you want his affection? Hmph.

"Now, I know fully well that you have no intention to spend the night on the couch. I suggest you join me in the next five minutes, or I will take matters into my own hands."

Video Games (Inherited): Vil isn’t a stranger to them. Enjoys them from time to time but never too much because he’s so busy - but you introduced him to Dress to Impress and now he’s addicted. Not just that but he absolutely loves a good rpg. He does like to play with you - like in a co-op platformer, cozy game, or service - when able because it’s bonding time. Vil gets so invested in story lore and actively starts seeking roles in Live Action Adaptation films. Vil as Astarion when???

Thrifting (Inherited): There’s something magical about not knowing what you’re going to get. At first he was against it. You don't have to do that anymore, y'know. He can buy you new clothes if you need them. That is - until you take him through an upcycling market. Vil is used to his designer brands and high fashion - but when you’re able to see potential in something? Make it sparkle? He’s just a big slut for creativity, and I think he would love upcycling.

"My radiance touches all fronts - including my darling. How bold of you to insinuate anything but - No. How daring of you to suggest that adhering to anyone else's standards is worth my time." == Vil is happy to discuss your relationship if the topic is breeched politely during an interview. He isn't shy, neither does he approach anything with less than his best. That includes romance...but oh, hell hath no fury than a smitten Shoenheit scorned by an uncouth reporter. He can sense their attempts to doctor an interview for petty gossip a mile away. He is PROUD that you are learning from him, and views the changes you've brought to his life as improvements. Not lovelorn imperfections.

Habits You Steal

Locks (Developed): Rook is? Oh...okay, so your love's a bit of a prankster - or perhaps a thrill-seeker is more like it? He doesn't let life get too boring, that's for certain. Rook knows Ramshackle through and through. It's not uncommon to look out the window and see his feathered hat zip by in the woods, or through the garden. He does love playing his own version of 'where's waldo' - flickering about to and fro, weaving between the garden trellis and ducking behind trees. Just waiting for his amour to spot him from afar. He knows the layout too intimately - you fear. His habit of breaking and entering instills an anxiety over how unsecure Ramshackle truly is.

“BOO! Aha - desolé, mon coeur - I didn’t mean to startle you so. Consider this a lesson in spacial awareness! Mon dieu, there is a blatant gap in your dorm’s fencing just near the east! Wild beasts can break through and have you for supper. My poor heart will be shattered!” <- So yeah. He's all to happy to set up padlocks on the weak point windows, your fence, etc. He even encourages you to set up some traps yourself. It'll make those 'where's waldo' games more fun for him with new obstacles hehe.

The Nearest Exit (Inherited): Huntsman through and through - he's trained you well. You always sit by the nearest exit in class, closest to the door wherever you are.

Research (Inherited): While Rook is très passionné about fine arts, he's also fascinated with the unknowns in this world. What better club for the truly curious, than the science club? He adores bringing you in to join experiments, always questioning your perspective and letting you take the lead (when safe). It makes a routine procedure all the more interesting, watching what is familiar to him become novel through your eyes. It's like planting a rare seed for the first time, not knowing what will bloom. Akin to venturing within the barred sections of NRC's greenhouse, a thrilling adventure in the pursuit of knowledge. Alchemy becomes your best subject, you can recite the periodic table without need for mnemonics, and you breech the top five in your academic year. Crewel is thoroughly impressed. Good pup.

“Hm? Ah, how curious…there are 123 elements for study in this world, my dear assistant. Would you like to learn the song we teach young mages to memorize them? I will happily serenade you as we work. <- Yup. Twisted Wonderland has more elements than we do, since they’ve got magic resources. Sadly singing the Periodic Table Song won’t be useful. Well, it’s mostly useful still? Trey will actually kill you for teaching it to Rook though. Their mnemonic is much less fast paced and…less annoying. Yeah.

Fleurien (Inherited) : Is this truly shock to anyone? It's french in our world - so props if you already speak the language. Rook isn't fluent but he'd love to learn more. So ... either you use it more with him, or pick up a phrase or two here and there. It's scary as shit - by the way. Now Epel's got not one head popping up screeching "BONJOUR" but two. Don't get comfy because he's small - Rook might be quick enough to dodge a punch but you're one to many outbursts away from a broken nose.

Talking To Yourself (Developed) : Alright. Ace is officially convinced you're off your rocker and need to go visit the nurse. There's no way you know when Rook's skulking about - and if you did, why the heck are you talking to thin air? Just tell him to come out?...yeah, it's not uncommon to have a conversation with your 'boyfriend' when said man isn't visible to the naked eye. There are rumors you finally snapped, just so y'know. Rook physically had to go clear it up with Kalim before the sunshine child sent you on an all-paid tropical vacation to destress (Dammit Rook we were so close -)

“Mon cherie! You look positively radiant in the afternoon light! - ah. The answer is 27, adieu!” <- Call out any question on your Maths or Science homework to the barren sky, and an answer will sound from proximity unknown. The gods have answered your academic dilemma in the form of fleurian embellishments. No. Grim. You can’t just ask every problem - okay you might want to only do this when alone.

Compliments (Developed// Inherited) : Rook is a sweetheart. Maybe a bit of an acquired taste - but he always has something wonderful to say about everyone. No matter their faults...it's almost instinctual, the way you flip from boxed caution to returning his zeal with a genuine compliment. Each and every one. His reaction remains unique as well, he never grows accustomed to it. People groan at the 'shameless flirting' - only to blanch when Rook compliments them in turn, and you are so quick to back him up.

“Oh…mon amour, you never cease to surprise me.” <- Spoken with the most tender affection. Tips his hat to cover his blushing cheeks.

Habits he steals:

Surprises (Inherited): Rook often leaves little gifts and surprises for you to find - in a way he's testing himself, gauging your reactions and getting a spin of glee when you show him a new expression. A bouquet of fresh flowers (their meanings spelling a love letter), sweets from a far corner in the Shaftlands, poems hidden throughout your home in places he predicts you'll check, polaroids of sites across the Isle (urging you to find where for a surprise) etc. This actually started with you - knowing his love for the unknown, you wooed his heart by making little games for him. Not so much snooping into his affairs, but it was fun being under someone else's watchful eye. A bit clumsy but charming to have someone wanting to get the jump on him. Could he be considered prey, if he wanted to be caught?

Decor (Developed) : We've...we've all seen his bedroom, right? Now it isn't going to be the extent of Neige of Vil. Be this a concern or comfort to you? - it's subjective. He will preserve every little thing in regards to your relationship. That middle space above his bed? Cut a square right down the room's center, taking equal parts away from the Neige and Vil spitdown. Add some shelving, a few boxes under his bed and new linens...yup. Polaroids, mementos, paintings, love letters, mayhaps not a plush but if you consent to him having a tiny crochet doll or tsum of you then he will be thrilled. It's all there, right at the center of his organized chaos. He doesn't harbor the same feelings towards you as he does his idols, but that doesn't mean you're any less important.

Organization (Inherited): On that note, since Vil's your friend and the space can be a bit much? Rook will politely tone it down when you're over - flipping the posters and dolls if he's expecting a visit. It is wonderful that you accept his bonified fanboy behavior, but he concedes this much for your comfort.

“Ah…my limited edition Appleblossom-Vil sheets. I understand your discomfort my love, so I have graciously turned them into the perfect couch-cushion cover! Come and see how magnifique they match the drapes!” <-Again…compromise. You can’t even be put off with that level of creativity and excitement.

Freckles and Gloves (Developed): Stop. Covering. Your. Damn. Freckles !!!! This isn't about the hair. Believe it or not, his hair is cute and anyone who says otherwise can stfu because he likes it. If it's what he likes then it's what he likes. The freckles? You're slapping that damn bottle of concealer out of his hands. He'll wake up early to try and reapply it before you wake up. Nope. Nada. He cannot go preaching about the beauty of imperfections while still covering up what triggers the most extreme cute aggression known to man. You compliment every nick on his hands and forearms and wherever else, praise all the little freckles on his nose and cheeks until this man physically is sent to the moon and back from your passion.

“Aha! I am being assaulted by a ticklish foe! If my face is enough to elicit such sweetness from you, then I will certainly die the happiest man in this lifetime” <- He's never seen you so passionate about anything. it's enough to overwhelm him, in all honesty. Stops wearing the concealer most casual days, but won't concede his gloves. Might wear it on occasion to see if you notice (and get a bit of that fire in your eyes to come back).

Scrap Booking (Developed): Rook documents everything, why not keep a scrap book? You suggest the idea to him as a way to immortalize his findings without always needing some kind of trophy. Now he has a scrap book dedicated to literally everyone. Vil and Neige might have multiple…and at some point you have to wonder when it breeches scrap book criteria and just becomes a full detailing of his observations. It depends on how you feel about candid photos.

Newspaper Club (Inherited) : Oh yeah. Rook becomes an honorary member of the Newspaper club. He finds great thrill in trying to get those candid shots without being spotted by his targets <3. If he can help out his amour on his little escapades, then say no more. He's honored to be the only one allowed to use your ghost camera.

“Oh just look at that sunrise! It is the true embodiment of what our students stand for! To press through the darkness through tireless hours of study and labor - all to emerge in new dawn as promising mages! I must get the perfect shot for my darling’s club…non. A ground view will not do - to the skies!” <- He proceeds to break six rules, pilfer a broom from the Spelldrive team, get the photo and return to class without any evidence

-

“Oh mon dieu - how my heart soars! To be loved is to be seen, no? Ah, I could as for no greater compliment. Merci Beaucoup, mon amie!” == Others might make the comparison with scorn. Most find Rook’s mannerisms to be peculiar, some find him distasteful. He is merely an appreciator of beauty, and you are one of the most marvelous creatures he has ever set eyes on. In body and mind. It is an honor to be mimicked. To be loved is to be changed. If anyone holds a true appreciation for sharing habits, it is Rook Hunt. He detests others prying into his personal affairs…and yet, he finds himself willingly giving hints to you. Oho?

Habits you steal:

Dialect and Slang (Inherited) : The most obvious. You don’t spend hours upon hours with someone and not walk away without some of their lingo. Do you REALLY think he has the energy to maintain that primmed facade all the time? The moment it’s closed doors Epel lets loose like no one else on campus. The personality flip is insane. It’s like when you spend time in a foreign country and pick up a bit of their accent - but that southern drawl.

"I don' sound like that! Wait..." <- Slams his palm over Deuce's mouth when he and Ace were mimicking you who 'apparently' started to sound like a bumpkin. Doesn't help that Epel calls you a 'pumpkin' either....oh yeah, the teasing is relentless.

Survival (Inherited): Epel could get you off a stranded island with just a coconut, three sticks, and a rock. Not even exaggerating, he’s just that resourceful. Navigating through woodlands through any kind of weather, making deliveries across towns and encountering any spectacle the mind can trudge up? Yeah. Teaches a guy somethin’. He makes sure you don’t walk off the farm without a survival pack and even shows you how to tell time using the sky. If only he realized how attractive this sort of thing is.

Apples (Developed) : I sincerely hope you have a taste for apples and everything apple related. Epel will be carving away, picking the dud chunks with toothpicks and handing them off without a second thought. Who eats them? You. Also his family sends a care package at least once a month. Cider, pie, tarts, hell they somehow got apples in kugel? The others in your little possé help polish it off, but Epel’s family is so stoked that he has a partner. That Harveston event was a doozy, let me tell ya. A village full of elderly folks asking after you means you will never go hungry. Well…so long as you can survive on apples.

"You know...you kind of remind me of a McIntosh apple. Pretty sweet but also nice an' refreshing...a-ah? That was romantic? I was just thinking out loud but if you say so..."

Cold Tolerance (Developed) : Speaking of Harveston, did you know you got thirty-minutes? Oh yes, thirty minutes to run my friend. Just kidding. Don’t run. Not unless you want to see a sled coming at you in the distance at breakneck speed. Now that his family has a face to match their Epel’s sweetheart, you will always be expected to join him on trips home. They want pictures, updates, your measurements for new clothes and he better be sending notice so the guest room is made up. Epel will be sent right back to NRC if he ever comes back without you in tow. Congrats, you’ve been adopted. It’s chilly there but you get some hand-knitted mittens out of it. Epel is mortified but also so thankful he has someone to buffer the welcome-wagon with.

"Hey uhh...do you mind if we take a picture together? It's just for my mom's scrapbook. She's been asking for one 'a us together and I don' want to disappoint her....h-huh? What'ddya mean you already sent some?! When?!" <- You're writing to his family. Alright. He's totally not running through every embarrassing story his Meemaw or parents have in their arsenal...ah crap.

Cowboy Hat Rule (Developed) : One-hundred percent true across dimensions. You are NOT allowed to wear anyone else’s hat, ya got that? No one. Especially not no-one from the shaft-lands or the Savannah. Rook once offered you his brimmed-hat on a rainy day and Epel completely lost his mask for a moment. He quite literally yanked his jacket off and smothered your head with it, meeting Rook’s amused mirth with narrowed eyes. He didn’t care if Vil scolded him. That Hunt knew exactly what he was doing, ain’t Epel’s fault. Not this time, no way.

"A-a little water won't kill anyone! Let's just run for it!" <- Shoots a poorly-controlled glare as you both book-it to the nearest shelter. Rook's laughter was as boisterous as ever, always happy to push Epel's buttons.

Cat-Calls (Developed) : Assholes love to hit on Epel. The amount of times other students mistake him for a girl - man. Poor guy. It really peeves him off when it happens in front of you too. We’re talking veins popping out of his neck and red enough to rival Riddle on his worst days. What makes it worse is that you defend him. Ain’t it supposed to be the other way ‘round? On one hand he’s smug because you’re parading him like a prized trophy - hah! Look at that, ain’t he a catch? The high dies down a bit when the pursuer leaves. Then he gets sulky.

Heating Pack (Inherited) : Dear god farmlife is kicking your ass. Epel cackles and jokes at your suffering, but hauling those crates is no joke. Thank god he knows a remedy and lends you his heating pack every night. Some icy-hot on the joints, a foot bath for the ankles, and he might rub your shoulders if you ask nicely. He won’t admit to using the remedies himself, claiming they’re for his parents. He just wants to seem tough but you know better. Seven have mercy on your aching knees…there’s got to be a way to worm out of this.

There isn’t. You don’t work, you don’t eat. Haul ass dimension traveler.

"Howdy pumpkin, how're you holding up? Jeez, I warned you about lifting with your legs...nah, forget about it. Vil must be rubbing off on me with his scolding. Here's some hot chocolate to tide ya over until supper. Meemaw's got some herbal remedies lying around, want to give them a try?"

Habits he steals:

Thievery (Inherited): Goes in-hand with the care packages he's getting from home. Those are suppose to be FOR HIM, but you're sneaking all the good bits and leaving him with the barrels of apples. Get your own mail man...just kidding(-ish). He honestly is so glad to have some of the heat taken off his shoulders. Plus, you writing them means he gets a bit more freedom...but seriously. He has to keep stealing back the stuff you've pilfered. Sure he's getting an allowance, but c'mon. Half the stuff that gets sent are things from his room that he already owns, like clothes and his whittle knives...it was cool showing off his best stuff, until his parents sent over his baby album without saying nothing. He had to pry that out of your mitts and bury it under lock-and-key in his room.

"Son of a- Hey! The heck did I tell ya about stealin' my socks?! I know yous ain't that desperate! Go an' get et yer own already dammit!" <- Doesn't matter if he sends a letter back to his Meemaw, asking her to send some extra pairs of those fluffy slipper-socks. Maybe some stationary and a couple jars of jam that Grim'll just run through in a day. You're always fighting over stuff.

Delinquency (Inherited): You are literally Vil's worst enemy - undoing everything he's sought to instill. When Epel is with you, he reverts back to his most basic form. Aka. hunched over his carvings like a gremlin crescent, doing contortionist moves through the halls, sneaking cup-ramen at 2am just 'cause he's bored (Rook plays Hide 'n' Seek those nights, chasing ya through Pomefiore until you're back in Epel's room. Wanna eat? Gotta work for it) , and really the most unmannered bullshit possible. Spell Drive was his go-to outlet where he could get muddy and talk hot shit. Still is - what? You think the Savanaclaw students (70% of the team) are going to sit there and paint their nails? Nah, he's been initiated and all that. Had to show his muscle...but this is different. Vil's considered banning you from the dorm during important times like exams, parties, assemblies, etc. just to get some grounding. Doesn't work, since Epel will just sneak out. Riddle isn't the only one with crafty first-years looking to couch surf.

Malipulation (Inherited): Epel learns how you've managed to last this long in Twisted Wonderland with nothing but that pretty little brain under your belt. People are so quick to expect nothing from the Ramshackle prefect...and instead of proving them wrong, or getting heated? You let them think that way, because bad press was good press at NRC. Let them think you were a conniving, brown nosed kiss-ass who was getting it in with the dorm leaders. Let them think you were a walking sack of bad karma. Let them think whatever else - because those stereotypes are what's keeping you afloat.

"Ah - pardon me...I'll take that challenge on their behalf, if it's all right with you? Don't hold back on me now!.....ya pea-brained fucknugget." <- Epel twists this in his own way- aka. he starts using his pretty looks to his advantage. Let people think he's a weakling, so that when the time comes to prove himself he'll make a 180 change and give a big ol' can of whoopass. Your 'normie-ness' as Idia puts it, is your biggest weapon. Same for Epel's disarming visage.

Cologne (Developed): In an effort to be seen as more 'manly' in your eyes, Epel went down to the Isle shopping district and bought the most putrid smelling drugstore musk you can imagine. One whiff near-singed your nostril hairs off from how much he packed on...Vil did not approve, and gifted him a higher quality scent with notes of peppercorn and jasmine. You personally went and thanked Vil in secret - unable to tell Epel just how bad he smelled since he did it trying to impress you.

Lint Roller (Developed): Vil runs a tight ship - Epel's needs to get Grim's fur off of his uniform for every inspection or else he'll get his head chewed off. Especially if his dorm uniform gets dirtied.

Confidence (Developed): Stops masking his accent when with friends. Never had anyone cheering for him before. Like, really cheering for him. So you coming to his Spelldrive games is such a boost. Wears Ramshackle colors (bandanna and waist-flags) on his club uniform - Vil not mad bc Rook wouldn’t shut up about it being in the name of love -

"Woooo! Score! Blue must be my lucky color! Hahaha!" <- Epel always looks for you in the crowd. Luck isn't nothin' to do with it, but if wearing blue and white gets him playing better? The team isn't complaining.

Protective (Developed): Part insecurity, part him being a bit old-fashioned, part being sick of stereotypes against the underdog (aka. ya both), and part pure country-boy lovin'. He's not a raised gentleman like Riddle, doesn't know the ins and outs of 'romance' like Rook, honestly bro is fumbling half the time...but ain't no one seen Epel flair up like he does in your defense. No one can talk him down. On the protectiveness scale he would get 15/10, because there ain't many friends to make back at Harveston. Surely not anyone to love. He's got some good examples for how to treat a life-partner, and knows 13 different moves to dislocate different joints across the human body.

"Sure ya want ta go there, huh? Huh? Say that again to mah face. I'll put ya nose to the dirt so fast that filthy mouth'll o' yers will taste nothin' but soil fer weeks!" <- He'll do it too. His Meemaw trained him for more than just the Sledathon...nah, years of hauling crates built muscle. Back when he was still a first-year on the Spelldrive team, he'd get shit from his teammates while they 'tested' him. The worst mistake they made was coming for you though, even if it was a bit. Epel was full on ready to clobber a Cheetah-beastman twice his size, and if Jack hadn't stepped in...he probably would've, no mercy.

-

“That’s….that’s somethin’ else, ain’t it? Heh. Heheheh,” == Epel had to excuse himself to go giggle on his lonesome. Can’t have anyone see how happy that small comment just made him. You really love him that much? You respect him that much? He can’t begin to put two and two together - his heart was pounding like some lovesick ninny…oh. Oh hells. He is a lovesick ninny. Needless to say that Epel is absolutely riding a high for the rest of the day.

[teukiemomo]

It is true I didn't follow the US politics before the election. This is just based on what I've seen so far since the election (since like the debate where Trump said questionable things about dog and cat eating since that kinda blew up everywhere lol):

As far as I know Fox News is Trump's ass-kisser. CNN is the opposite. NBC, MSNBC are anti Trump's dumb things which are... all Trump's things. I'm not sure what their usual stance is before the election, but during the election it was kinda like Fox News vs. everyone (it still is now). And based on what I've seen so far on Fox News their correspondences sound so... insensitive and delusional I'd immediately question their professionalism and therefore no longer trust whatever excuse they make for Trump.

Late night shows hosts are very against Trump. They dissed him every time I saw them on youtube and this is like every night? Some of them do sound unserious so people may disregard them, but Jon Stewart and John Oliver are 2 people whom I think really look into the issues like Project 2025, gun issue, inflation, crime etc. and bring evidences to the table, lots of times, to expose Trump. Both are also very critical of Dems on certain issues but often pointed out how Trump is always the worse option. With that much exposure to Trump's darkness (and, like, with proofs) I honestly thought the result would go the other way. Unless there's something I missed.

Twitter - I know there's an agenda pushed there 'thanks to' Elon Musk but somehow most of the posts showing up on my 'For You' are against right-wing extremists, like I don't even follow, like or retweet any political tweets that should make the algorithm swing that way (and gosh I WISH they could've done the same for my favourite artist, I like him and somehow they only show tweets talking shit about him, like Elon DO BETTER PLZ?) Anyways, my point is, even on a platform that is so blatantly right-wing, I'm still able to see that many tweets (with actual proofs, logical arguments etc.) criticise Trump, warn about Trump and his ppl, etc. that reach huge amount of engagement on Twitter, I was kinda under the impression that whatever right-wing propaganda on Twitter wasn't really working that well.

Trump is just... idk after those 4 years of bad-mouthing everything everywhere, fumbling Covid terribly, leaving White House with a coup, getting into another election running his mouth about dog eating cat eating, 'i'mma do this to women don't matter if like it or not', 'criminals coming from prisons and insane asylums', convicted felony, convicted rapist, proposal to get rid of Dep of Education, performing oral thingy with the mic on stage (??????), etc. Evidences of him doing stupid shit, saying stupid shit are like everywhere, and most things he said can be easily proven a lie by a simple google search. People may be disappointed at the Dems and hate the establishment, but how a man like Trump can be a better choice, under any circumstance, seems... baffling. Lots of ppl seem to choose him for the economy, which actually can be debunked by looking at other countries after Covid and Russia-Ukraine; inflation was a common issue, and the stats showed it's already gone down considerably at the time of the election. To me it just seems very easy to figure out all the arguments Trump used are pretty bullshit: no pro free speech person will bash and threaten to harm people who don't talk nicely about him, no 'America-first' person will ever spread lies and lead a coup, and never trust a multi-billionnaire when he says he's all for the working class.

I'm not saying the US mainstream media is not to blame, or the Dems is not to blame. They should've done a better job, but at the same time, the US is one of the countries where it's easier to see through propaganda. Freedom to access information and opinions from a wide range of perspectives with little restriction is a privilege some other countries don't even have.

I'm not from the US, I only made this comment based on what I've seen, and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one outside of America who experienced this bewilderment. But if I've missed something, I'm willing to learn.

Gotta admit the headline is a banger.

[scarletwinterxx]

maybe maybe - jeon wonwoo imagine

hellooooo ~ i need to give myself a pat in the back for this bcs OH MY GOSH EVEN I WAS GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET WHILE WRITING THIS. the slooooow burn on this🫠 we love a nonchalant and oa combo (if u know u know)

also i was listening to maybe maybe by lola amour while writing this. give it a listen to get the maximum feels😅

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’ve liked Jeon Wonwoo for as long as you can remember. It’s not a fleeting crush or some shallow infatuation—it’s the kind of feeling that lingers, like a persistent shadow. He knows it; everyone does. But as much as your friends tease you about your obvious affection for him, Wonwoo has never acknowledged it.

Not once.

Wonwoo is the epitome of calm indifference. He’s polite, sure, but he never goes out of his way to engage with anyone outside of his tight-knit circle of friends, Vernon and Minghao. They’re always together, laughing at inside jokes and radiating an air of effortless cool that only makes him seem more unreachable.

And yet, you can’t help yourself. You’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame, even though he treats you no differently than anyone else.

Sometimes you wonder if he even notices the little things you do for him—the way you save him a seat in class when he’s running late, or how you always bring an extra drink to study group just in case he wants one. You tell yourself you’re just being nice, but Mimi, your best friend, sees right through you.

“This is ridiculous,” she tells you one afternoon, leaning back in her chair with an exasperated sigh.

The two of you are sitting outside on the campus lawn, the warm sunlight doing little to ease the frustration in her voice. “You’re bending over backward for a guy who can’t even spare you a second glance.”

“He’s not that bad,” you argue weakly, though even you know it’s a poor defense. Mimi raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Not that bad? Y/N, he’s like a brick wall with glasses. Sure, he’s good-looking, but you can’t build a relationship on eye contact alone.”

“I’m not trying to build a relationship!” you protest, though your cheeks heat at the lie. “I just… I like being around him, that’s all.”

Mimi rolls her eyes. “You like torturing yourself, is what you mean. Honestly, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you enjoy the challenge.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe there’s a part of you that holds onto this unrequited crush because it’s safer than the alternative. If you never confess, you can never be rejected. And as much as Wonwoo’s aloofness stings, it’s still better than the thought of him outright telling you he doesn’t feel the same.

But then there are moments—rare, fleeting moments—when you catch a glimpse of something softer beneath his exterior. Like the time you lent him your notes for a class he missed, and he returned them with a quiet “Thanks” and a small, almost imperceptible smile. Or the way his eyes lingered on you for just a second longer than usual when you bumped into him at the library last week.

It’s those moments that keep you hanging on, no matter how much Mimi scolds you for it.

“You’re hopeless,” she says with a shake of her head. But there’s no real malice in her words, just the weary affection of someone who’s watched you pine for too long. “I swear, one day you’re going to look back on this and laugh.”

You doubt it, but you don’t say that out loud. Instead, you change the subject, steering the conversation toward something less painful.

Later that day, you find yourself crossing paths with Wonwoo outside the campus café. He’s with Vernon and Minghao, as usual, but when he sees you, he slows his pace, letting his friends walk ahead without him.

“Hey,” he says, his voice as steady and unreadable as ever.

“Hi,” you manage, your heart doing its usual somersault at the sight of him.

For a moment, you stand there, unsure of what to say. But before the silence can stretch too long, Wonwoo speaks again.

“Thanks for the notes,” he says simply.

It’s not much, just two words, but the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard. For once, it feels like he’s really looking at you, not just through you. And in that moment, you think that maybe, just maybe, there’s hope after all.

It’s a small step, but it’s enough to keep you going.

Mimi is relentless, as she always is when it comes to your love life—or lack thereof. She’s leaning against your desk chair in your dorm room, scrolling through her phone with a dramatic sigh.

“I’m telling you, Y/N, this guy is perfect for you. He’s into photography, loves indie films, and he’s even in your lit class. Plus, he doesn’t act like he’s living in a perpetual state of indifference.” She shoves her phone in your face, showing you a photo of a guy you vaguely recognize from class. He’s cute, objectively speaking, with a kind smile and a soft, approachable vibe.

But you shake your head before Mimi can even finish her pitch. “I’m not interested.”

Mimi groans, tossing her phone onto your bed. “Why do you do this to yourself? It’s not like you’re dating Wonwoo, or that he’s even trying to date you. You’re wasting your time on a guy who can’t even bother to hold a real conversation with you.”

Her words hit harder than she probably intended, and for a moment, you feel the weight of the truth behind them. She’s right—nothing about your feelings for Wonwoo makes sense. You know it’s a losing game, but every time you even consider the idea of moving on, it feels wrong. Like you’d be betraying something you’ve held onto for so long.

“It’s not that simple,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you intended.

Mimi softens at your tone, sinking onto the edge of your bed. “Then make it simple, Y/N. I get it—you like him. But you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You deserve someone who actually sees you.”

“I don’t know if I want someone else to see me,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

It’s frustrating—you’re frustrated with yourself.

Every time you see Wonwoo, it’s like all the logic and advice you’ve been given evaporates into thin air. All you see is him: the way his glasses slide down his nose when he’s reading, or the rare laugh that lights up his face when Vernon says something ridiculous. It’s like he’s carved a permanent space in your mind, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t make him leave.

Mimi looks at you like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re not even ready to like someone else, are you?”

You shake your head, a small, self-deprecating smile playing on your lips. “I don’t think so. It’s stupid, right? Holding onto feelings for someone who probably doesn’t even think about me.”

“It’s not stupid,” she says, surprising you. “It’s just… hard to watch. You’re one of the best people I know, Y/N, and it sucks to see you stuck on someone who doesn’t appreciate that.”

You’re about to respond when your phone buzzes on the desk. It’s a notification from the group chat for your literature project, and your heart skips a beat when you see Wonwoo’s name among the participants.

“Speak of the devil,” Mimi mutters when she notices your expression. She doesn’t need to ask who the message is from.

You open the chat to find a simple message from Wonwoo: I have some extra notes from class if anyone needs them. Just let me know.

It’s not directed at you specifically, but your heart still flutters at the thought of him offering to help. Mimi catches the way your lips twitch into a faint smile and groans dramatically, flopping back onto your bed.

“You’re hopeless,” she declares, though her tone is more resigned than annoyed.

You don’t argue with her this time. Maybe you are hopeless, but you’re not ready to give up just yet. Because even though it doesn’t make sense, even though it’s frustrating and irrational and probably a little pathetic, a part of you still believes there’s something worth holding onto.

The next day, you’re determined to take a small step forward.

Wonwoo’s message about the notes keeps replaying in your mind, like a sign you can’t ignore. It’s a flimsy excuse to talk to him, sure, but it’s enough to make you gather your courage and head toward the study hall where you know he likes to hang out.

You spot him right away, sitting at his usual corner table. His laptop is open, and a notebook lies beside it, his familiar neat handwriting filling the pages. But before you can take another step, you see her.

She’s sitting across from him, her dark hair tied back in a sleek ponytail. She’s gorgeous in a natural, effortless way that makes you want to disappear on the spot. And the way Wonwoo looks at her—it’s like someone punched you in the stomach. His smile is soft, easy, like he’s known her forever. He’s speaking to her with a comfort and warmth that he’s never shown you.

You freeze in place, your confidence evaporating in an instant. All the what-ifs and maybes that have kept you going suddenly feel childish and naive. You turn on your heel and leave before either of them can notice you.

The rest of the week feels like a blur. You don’t have the energy to pretend everything is fine, and Mimi is quick to notice.

“What’s wrong with you lately?” she asks on Thursday, her eyes narrowing in concern as she sits across from you in the campus café. “You’ve been moping around like someone stole your dog.”

You shrug, poking at your untouched sandwich. “It’s nothing.”

“Liar,” she says immediately. “Come on, spill.”

When you hesitate, she leans in closer, her voice softening. “Is it Wonwoo?”

The look on your face is answer enough.

Mimi lets out a groan, rubbing her temples. “Y/N, you’ve got to stop doing this to yourself. If he’s making you feel like this—”

“It’s not his fault,” you cut in quickly. “He doesn’t even know how I feel.”

“Exactly,” she says, exasperated. “You’re tearing yourself apart over a guy who doesn’t even know what he’s doing to you.”

You don’t respond, and Mimi sighs. After a moment of silence, she leans forward with a determined look in her eyes.

“Alright, that’s it. I’m not letting you mope around all weekend. There’s a party on Saturday, and you’re coming with me.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand to stop you.

“No excuses. You need a distraction, and I’m going to make sure you have fun whether you like it or not.”

True to her word, Saturday evening finds you standing in front of the mirror, dressed in an outfit Mimi picked out for you. It’s a little more daring than your usual style—an off-the-shoulder black dress that hugs your figure in all the right places—but Mimi insists it’s perfect.

“You look hot,” she declares, grinning as she adjusts the necklace around your neck. “Wonwoo who?”

You laugh despite yourself, though the sound feels hollow. Mimi doesn’t miss the way your smile falters, and she grabs your hands, forcing you to meet her gaze.

“Listen, Y/N. Tonight is about you. Forget about Wonwoo, forget about everything else, and just have fun. You deserve to feel good about yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur, even though you’re not sure you believe it.

But as Mimi drags you out the door and toward the party, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she’s right. Maybe it’s time to let go, even if just for one night.

The bass from the speakers reverberates through your chest the moment you step inside the party venue. It’s dimly lit, with neon lights flashing and a sea of people crowded around the dance floor and bar.

You feel out of place immediately, but Mimi, ever the extrovert, is in her element. She practically radiates confidence as she scans the room, her hand firmly gripping your wrist.

“This is going to be fun,” she says with a grin, already pulling you toward the bar.

“Mimi, wait—” you start to protest, but she’s not listening. Within moments, she’s ordering shots, her energy infectiously bold.

“Two tequila shots, please!” she calls out over the noise, turning to you with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “Come on, Y/N. You said you’d let loose tonight!”

“I didn’t say I’d drink,” you mumble, eyeing the small glasses as they’re placed in front of you.

Mimi rolls her eyes. “One shot won’t kill you. It’s called liquid courage. You’ll thank me later.”

Before you can object again, she’s shoving one of the glasses into your hand. Everything feels like it’s happening too fast—the music, the lights, the crowd, and now this. You glance down at the clear liquid and then at Mimi, who’s already downed hers like a pro.

“Cheers to forgetting about all your worries!” she declares, clinking her empty glass against yours.

You sigh, realizing you have no way out, and tip the shot back. The alcohol burns as it goes down, and you cough slightly, grimacing at the taste. Mimi laughs and pats your back.

“There you go! See? That wasn’t so bad,” she says, already signaling for another round.

As Mimi orders more drinks, you glance around the room, trying to get your bearings.

You don’t notice the way heads turn in your direction, but Wonwoo does.

From his spot in the corner of the room, he’s watching you.

He’d seen you the moment you walked in, though he wasn’t the only one. It’s hard not to notice you tonight. You look stunning, completely different from your usual casual, understated style. The black dress you’re wearing accentuates your figure, and there’s a confidence in the way you carry yourself—even if you don’t feel it.

Vernon nudges him lightly, leaning in to murmur, “Isn’t that Y/N?”

Wonwoo doesn’t reply, his gaze fixed on you as you stand at the bar with Mimi. He’s used to seeing you in hoodies and jeans, always looking comfortable and approachable. But tonight, you’re turning heads left and right, and it’s clear you’re out of your element.

“She cleans up well,” Minghao comments casually, sipping his drink.

Wonwoo doesn’t respond, but his jaw tightens ever so slightly. He watches as Mimi drags you further into the chaos of the party, her energy pulling you along like a whirlwind. You seem hesitant, your eyes wide as you take in the unfamiliar environment, but there’s something endearing about it.

For a moment, Wonwoo feels a strange pang in his chest, though he can’t quite place it. Maybe it’s because he’s not used to seeing you like this, so far removed from the quiet kindness you usually exude. Or maybe it’s the way other people are looking at you—the guys whose eyes linger a little too long, the girls whispering behind their hands.

“Dude,” Vernon says, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You good?”

Wonwoo blinks, finally tearing his gaze away. “Yeah,” he mutters, though his voice lacks conviction.

But even as his friends return to their conversation, Wonwoo can’t help but glance back at you. There’s something about tonight that feels different, and for the first time in a long time, he wonders if he’s the one being left behind.

The alcohol was starting to buzz in your veins, making the room feel warmer and the noise more distant. Mimi was in her element, laughing and chatting with a group of students you vaguely recognized from campus. Somehow, you’d gotten swept up in their drinking games, and before you knew it, one shot had turned into two, then three.

Now, you were standing in a loose circle, your nerves on edge as you watched the current game unfold. Someone had explained it a moment ago: take the shot, then grab the lemon wedge held between another person’s lips. It was bold, far outside your comfort zone, but you didn’t want to be the odd one out.

“Your turn, Y/N!” someone called, handing you a small shot glass filled with tequila.

Your hands felt clammy as you accepted it, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t even look at the person who was supposed to hold the lemon for you—your nerves wouldn’t let you. All you could think about was how awkward this was going to be, and how much you wished you could disappear into the floor.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes briefly as you downed the shot in one go.

The burn of the alcohol hit first, followed by a rush of heat in your chest. When you opened your eyes and turned your head to face whoever had volunteered to hold the lemon, you froze.

Wonwoo didn’t expect it to happen so soon, but there you were, standing at the bar with a shot in hand, the challenge in your eyes as you glanced at the person next to you holding a lemon.

And then—before he even realized what he was doing—he found himself walking over.

You blinked, wondering if the tequila was playing tricks on you. But no—he was standing right in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face as if this was the most natural thing in the world. The room seemed to fall away, the noise and chaos fading into the background.

The lemon wedge was between his lips, his sharp gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

Your heart felt like it might burst out of your chest as he leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. His touch was warm, steady, grounding you even as your mind spiraled.

Every nerve in your body was on high alert, the proximity making your head spin even more than the alcohol.

The way you looked at him when you saw him standing there, so close, made something stir in his chest. He was used to seeing you in passing, in casual greetings, but never like this.

Never with this... spark in your eyes, the nervous energy swirling between you two as if the whole room had faded into the background.

His hand found its way to your face without him thinking about it. It was like instinct, like he was meant to touch you, to make the moment real, to ground you in the present. He could feel your breath against his lips as he held the lemon between his teeth, his own heartbeat quickening as he leaned in. The closeness was intoxicating, and even though everything around you was chaotic, there was a stillness between you two—something unspoken that hummed in the air.

His lips brushed against yours, and for a split second, the world stopped moving. The taste of tequila, the sharpness of the lemon, it all blurred together, leaving just the feeling of your presence, warm and electric. It was over in an instant, but the memory lingered like an echo in his mind.

When he pulled away, he noticed the slight tremble in your breath, the flush creeping up your cheeks. His fingers lingered on your skin, just for a moment, before he let go and took a step back. He couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or something else that made him act on impulse, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

“Careful with those shots,” he said, his voice steady as he turned to leave, wanting to disappear into the crowd before he did something even more foolish.

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd.

You stood there, your heart racing and your mind spinning, wondering if what had just happened was real—or if it was just another tequila-induced dream.

The morning light is harsh, seeping through the blinds and hitting you like a freight train.

Your head pounds, your mouth is dry, and you feel like your body is made of lead. Every movement feels like a chore, and the only thing you want is to pull the covers over your head and pretend like the world doesn't exist.

But then you remember last night. Bits and pieces of the party flash through your foggy mind—Mimi dragging you into the chaos, the shots, the people... and then, the moment with Wonwoo.

You sit up, your stomach flipping at the thought of it.

What had happened? Was it real? Or just a tequila-fueled dream? Your heart sinks into your stomach as the hangover makes itself known in full force. You groan, leaning back against your pillow.

Mimi, ever the morning person, bursts into your room without knocking, as if she doesn’t notice the state you’re in.

“Morning!” she says brightly, a little too brightly, given your current condition. She’s holding a water bottle and some aspirin in her hand. “Here, drink this. You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, taking the bottle gratefully, but your eyes are still squinting against the harsh light. “Mimi... what happened last night? What... what did I do?”

Mimi plops down on the edge of your bed, clearly already recovered from whatever wildness the night had thrown her way. She grins, almost too smugly for your current state.

“Let me think,” she says, tapping her chin like she’s in deep contemplation. “Well, first you got a little tipsy, then you got a lot tipsy... You were a little shy at first, but after a few shots, you really started to loosen up!”

You wince, already imagining how embarrassing you must have been. “And…?”

“Then,” she continues, barely able to contain her laughter, “you and Wonwoo had a moment.”

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. “Wait, what?”

“Oh yeah,” Mimi says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You two were definitely the talk of the night. You guys played that game, and then...” She pauses for dramatic effect, clearly enjoying every second of your discomfort. “...Well, let’s just say the lemon wedge wasn’t the only thing shared.”

Your brain stumbles over the words as the memory floods back. You and Wonwoo, so close, his hands on your face, the taste of tequila and lemon... And then the kiss, the soft brush of his lips against yours, lingering for just a heartbeat.

You feel your cheeks heat up, even as you cringe internally. “That wasn’t a kiss, was it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, it definitely was,” Mimi says with a teasing grin, clearly delighted by the reaction she’s getting from you. “A very brief one, but yeah. It happened.”

You bury your face in your hands, groaning in embarrassment. “Oh my god, I’m going to die.”

“No, no, no.” Mimi leans in, trying to comfort you—though her laughter is a little too apparent. “It wasn’t a big deal! You didn’t embarrass yourself too badly. Besides, from what I saw, he didn’t look like he minded.”

You look up at her, eyes wide. “What do you mean? Did he say anything?”

Mimi shrugs, her grin turning a little more thoughtful. “He didn’t say much”

Your heart skips a beat. You hadn’t even considered that. Did he... stay because he was just being polite? Or was there something else there?

"Did anything else happen after that?" you ask cautiously.

Mimi shakes her head. "No, you two went your separate ways pretty quickly after that. I mean, you were a little tipsy, so I didn't want to push you too much. But trust me, you're not imagining it. Something happened, even if you're too hungover to remember all the details.”

You lean back against the pillows, the weight of her words settling in your chest. Wonwoo. That moment. Had he really felt something too? Or was it just the alcohol making you think there was more to it than there actually was?

"Mimi..." you trail off, unsure how to even phrase your next question. "What do I do now?"

Mimi's expression softens slightly, though she still has that mischievous glint in her eye. "You let it play out. Don't overthink it. If something’s meant to happen, it will. If not, then at least you got a pretty wild story to tell."

You nod slowly, still unsure about everything. The hangover isn’t making things any easier, and your head feels like it’s full of unanswered questions.

But as you drink the water and swallow the aspirin she handed you, you can’t shake the feeling that this could be the beginning of something you’ve been waiting for. Even if you don’t have all the answers yet.

The next few days felt like an emotional rollercoaster, and you were stuck somewhere near the top, trying to keep your balance.

After last night’s chaos, you couldn’t bring yourself to face Wonwoo. You avoided him like the plague, keeping your distance whenever you saw him around campus. It wasn’t because you regretted what happened, but because... well, it felt like you were the only one who cared about it, and that made everything awkward.

Wonwoo didn’t say anything, didn’t acknowledge you or the kiss. He acted like it was nothing, like it was just some silly game, just like the other shots and the other people. But the longer you avoided him, the more you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was aware of it—aware of you. And that only made it worse.

His friends had caught on, too. Vernon had laughed it off, saying it was cute how you were avoiding Wonwoo. Minghao seemed amused. They didn’t think much of it, but you couldn’t ignore the tension that built up every time you crossed paths with them.

But it wasn’t just them noticing. Wonwoo was noticing too. You could feel his eyes on you whenever you went to class or sat in the library. His usual nonchalant demeanor didn’t give anything away, but there was something in the way he lingered a little longer, just enough to make you feel seen, even when you wanted to disappear.

Then, one afternoon, when you thought you were finally in the clear, it happened.

You were walking home, head down, lost in your thoughts as the weight of the last few days pressed heavily on your shoulders. You should’ve stayed in and avoided the outside world. But, no, you were out here, walking alone, hoping the fresh air would clear your head.

And then, you heard the familiar sound of an engine approaching. You looked up just in time to see Wonwoo’s car slowing beside you. Your heart skipped, and for a moment, everything inside you screamed to turn around and run. You were already panicking, your steps quickening, but before you could escape, the car came to a stop beside you.

Wonwoo rolled down the window, his expression as unreadable as ever, but his voice—his voice was what made you freeze.

“Y/N,” he called out, and your pulse quickened. You turn slowly to face him

"Hey, Wonwoo. Uh what's up?" you casually, trying to hide the fact that your face is burning because of him and not the cold winds

"Just got out of class, are you walking home?"

"Yea, on my way home too. Anyways, I better get going. See you... around" you wave goodbye and started to walk again.

You hear the car door open and steps behind you, "Are you avoiding me?" his question makes you stop on your tracks. Turning around to see him leaning against the passenger side of his car

“Uh... I... It’s just—” you stutter, and then you realize you can’t lie about it anymore. “It’s because of... the kiss.”

His face doesn’t shift, no surprise or confusion. He just looks at you, his dark eyes locking onto yours for a moment too long. And then, as if it’s nothing at all, he shrugs.

“It wasn’t even a kiss, Y/N,” he says coolly, as though it’s no big deal. “It was just... part of the game. Nothing to worry about.”

The words hit you like a bucket of ice water. You’re disappointed, though you try not to show it. You wanted something more. You wanted him to acknowledge the tension, the fact that there was something between you two, something real.

But of course, that was just how Wonwoo was—nonchalant, distant, and always acting like everything was just nothing.

You couldn’t help the slight sinking feeling in your chest. You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Right. Of course,” you mutter, hoping your voice doesn’t betray the disappointment you feel.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. You feel awkward, standing there on the sidewalk, his car still idling beside you. But then he speaks again, his tone softening just slightly, though still with that signature aloofness.

“Get in. I’ll drive you home.” he opens the passenger door, waiting for you.

You hesitate. You should just say no, continue walking, put some distance between you. But you’re tired, emotionally drained, and there's something about his voice—something about the way he’s offering that makes it hard to refuse. You sigh, not knowing what to say but not wanting to make things worse. You step toward the car, sliding into the passenger seat without another word.

As he pulls away, the silence in the car is thick, and you can’t stop the thoughts that swirl in your head. You want to ask him, want to know if that kiss meant anything to him, or if he really did feel nothing about it.

But that’s just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Always distant, always playing it cool, never letting anyone get too close.

The drive to your place feels like an eternity, but in the back of your mind, you know this silence between you two is only going to build the tension more. You just wish he would break it.

It wasn’t easy, but you were getting better at avoiding him. The subtle things you used to do for him—saving him a seat in the library, offering him drinks or homemade cookies—had all stopped. You still couldn’t bring yourself to fully confront your feelings for him, and honestly, it felt like the only way to protect yourself was to distance yourself from him as much as possible.

You told yourself it was for the best. You told yourself that the space you were creating would help you get over him. But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much time passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was always watching, always noticing.

And, of course, he noticed. Wonwoo wasn’t the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but he was observant, maybe more so than he let on. He noticed that you stopped going out of your way to be kind to him. He noticed the absence of the small, thoughtful gestures you used to offer. At first, he didn’t say anything, uncertain of what was going on, or whether he even had the right to ask you about it.

But eventually, he couldn’t take the silence anymore.

It was late in the afternoon when you were walking alone on campus, heading toward the library to meet up with Mimi. The cool breeze made your hair dance around your face, and the noise of the campus life seemed distant, as if you were in your own little bubble.

As you passed by the gym, you saw him. Wonwoo. He had just finished his workout, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his T-shirt sticking to his body in that way it always did after a session. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but you quickly turned your attention elsewhere, pretending you hadn’t seen him.

But he saw you. Of course, he did.

“Y/N,” Wonwoo called out, his voice cutting through the ambient noise, his footsteps quickening to match yours. You tried not to flinch as you heard him approaching, but your pulse was racing.

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him, hoping your expression didn’t betray the nervousness bubbling up inside you. “Wonwoo?” you said, keeping your voice steady even though it felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest.

He stopped in front of you, looking at you for a beat too long, like he was sizing you up. The look on his face was unreadable, but you could see the confusion in his eyes, the way his brows furrowed slightly as he took you in.

"Why did you stop?" he asked, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.

"Stop?" You repeated, confused by his question. What was he even talking about?

"Yeah," he continued, his voice casual, but there was something different in it now. Something that made you feel like you were under a microscope. "You stopped... saving me seats, or bringing me stuff. You used to do that all the time."

You didn’t know how to respond. A part of you wanted to lie, to say it was no big deal, that you were just too busy or distracted with school, but something in his eyes made you hesitate. The truth, the real reason you were avoiding him, was too complicated. You couldn’t say it outright.

“I just… I guess I’ve been busy,” you said quietly, avoiding his gaze. “Things just… changed, I guess.”

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, as though trying to understand, but he didn’t push. There was no challenge in his voice, no annoyance. It was just curiosity, genuine and unassuming.

"Okay," he said after a beat, his eyes still locked on you. “I just thought you were mad at me or something.”

You felt a pang of guilt at his words, but you brushed it aside. “I’m not mad, Wonwoo. I’m just... I don’t know." You shook your head, unsure of how to explain your feelings without making things even more awkward. “I guess I just needed space.”

There was a pause, and then, for the first time in a while, he looked almost... vulnerable. "Space? For what?"

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You could hear the underlying question in his voice, even if he wasn’t asking it directly. Why had you pulled away from him? Why had you stopped the small things that used to come so naturally?

Before you could say anything else, Wonwoo let out a small sigh, and though his expression was still unreadable, there was something softer in his tone. “Alright. I just wanted to know.”

Without waiting for you to respond, he turned to leave, his steps slow but purposeful. For a moment, you just stood there, watching him walk away, the weight of his question lingering in the air between you.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment, though you weren’t sure what exactly you were disappointed in. Was it because he hadn’t pushed you to explain? Or was it because, deep down, you were still waiting for him to say something, anything, to make you feel like your feelings weren’t so one-sided after all?

But that was just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Detached, distant, and never quite giving you the answers you needed.

And yet, even as you watched him disappear into the distance, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder—maybe he did want to know.

The cool breeze of the evening felt nice against your skin as you walked through the quiet neighborhood, sipping on your banana milk. The streets were relatively empty, the soft hum of the evening a welcome relief after a busy week. You didn’t have a particular destination in mind—just wanted to clear your head and enjoy the peace for a while.

As you walked past the familiar basketball court, you spotted a figure out of the corner of your eye. At first, you didn’t think much of it, but then the silhouette registered in your mind. It was Wonwoo.

You stopped in your tracks, unsure whether to approach him or just keep walking. He didn’t seem to notice you at first, too focused on dribbling the ball and taking shots at the hoop. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the court, and for a moment, you found yourself just watching him. There was something about his movements that seemed different, something tight in the way he played—like he was working through something that was bothering him.

Maybe it was the way his jaw was clenched or the way his shoulders were hunched. He looked almost frustrated, the usual nonchalance replaced by something more intense. You stood there, quietly sipping your drink, lost in thought as you watched him.

You were so absorbed in the moment that you didn’t see the ball coming toward you. It hit you squarely on the head before you could react.

"Ouch!" you exclaimed, wincing as you staggered back a step.

Wonwoo’s head snapped toward you immediately, his eyes wide with concern. He jogged over, his long legs covering the distance quickly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice laced with worry. He stood in front of you, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of injury.

You rubbed your head, trying to play it off as no big deal. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wasn’t paying attention,” you muttered, but you could tell by the way Wonwoo was looking at you that he wasn’t convinced.

“Are you sure?” He reached up to gently touch the spot where the ball had hit you, his fingers lightly brushing the area. His touch was surprisingly soft, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest despite the situation.

“Really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, pulling back slightly. The last thing you needed was to be caught up in another one of these awkward moments with him.

But before you could brush it off entirely, something in you gave way. The distance you’d been trying to maintain, the walls you’d carefully built to protect yourself—suddenly, it felt so fragile. Maybe it was the way Wonwoo was looking at you so intently, or maybe it was the fact that it had been days since you last spoke. Whatever it was, the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them.

"I just thought I was being too much," you murmured, your gaze dropping to the ground. "And it’s not like you liked it."

Wonwoo froze, his expression unreadable for a moment as he processed your words.

The air between you seemed to thicken, the awkwardness of the situation now mixed with something more vulnerable. You could feel your heart beating faster, the confession hanging in the air like a weight.

You regretted saying it the moment it left your lips, but it felt like the truth—no matter how painful it was. You didn’t want to keep putting yourself out there, offering him small gestures and favors if he wasn’t interested in them, or in you.

For a long moment, Wonwoo didn’t say anything. His gaze softened, and he seemed to be carefully considering his next words. It wasn’t the detached, nonchalant Wonwoo you were used to.

This time, he seemed almost... human.

"You’re not being too much," he said quietly, his voice lacking its usual coldness. He met your eyes, and for the first time in a while, you saw something different in his gaze—something that wasn’t easy to define. "And I didn’t think it was annoying or anything."

You weren’t sure if you believed him, but the sincerity in his voice made you hesitate. Was he really saying that? Did he mean it?

“I thought you wouldn’t want me to keep doing those things for you if you didn’t care.”

Wonwoo’s expression softened even more, and he let out a small sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that was far more human than the usual composed Wonwoo you knew.

“You’re not being too much, and I guess I see why you think I didn't care. I never said I didn't” he says, this time with more conviction. “I just…” He trailed off, like he was searching for the right words. “I just didn’t know what to make of it. You were doing all these things, and I didn’t know how to react.”

There it was. The reason for his distance. The reason for his coldness. He hadn’t known how to handle your kindness. He hadn’t known what to do with the way you made him feel, and so he had kept his distance, just as you had.

“I’m sorry,” he added after a beat, looking slightly embarrassed, as though the admission was a little difficult for him.

You didn’t know what to say, your mind swirling with a mix of emotions. Had you really been wrong all along? Had he cared, but just not known how to show it?

You were so taken aback by his answer that your mind couldn't keep up. The words he had said, so simple, yet so unexpected, rattled your thoughts. I never said I didn’t care. Had you misread everything? Had all your attempts to keep your distance been for nothing?

"But then the kiss..."

"That was me being stupid, I should've apologized for invading your space like that and you look really bothered by it. I was being dumb"

"Well you did say it was just a game" you mumble

"Like I said, I was being dumb and I apologize" he shoots you a quick apologetic smile

Before you could process anything more, your face heated up with embarrassment. You felt suddenly shy, the weight of the conversation pressing down on you, making it harder to breathe.

“I—” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt a nervous energy surge through you, a mix of confusion and the rush of emotions you were trying to keep hidden.

“I’m fine, really.” You managed to give him a small, flustered smile, hoping it would make him stop worrying about you.

But Wonwoo wasn’t convinced. He stepped a little closer, eyes scanning you with concern. “You don’t seem fine,” he said, his brow furrowing as he looked you over. “You sure you’re not concussed or something? You hit your head pretty hard.”

Your heart raced at the proximity, and you could feel the overwhelming urge to escape before you made a bigger fool of yourself. He was too close.

“No, really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, the words coming out in a rush as you took a step back. You were panicking, trying to make sense of everything, but all you wanted in that moment was to get away from him. To breathe. To process what had just happened.

Before you knew it, your feet were already moving, backing away from him at a faster pace. You didn’t even think about it—your body just reacted, the instinct to escape taking over.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo called after you, his voice filled with concern, but you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t deal with this right now. Not with him standing there, looking so sincere and worried, when you were still trying to understand everything that had just happened.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go!” you shouted over your shoulder, not daring to look back.

You could hear him calling your name again, but you didn’t stop. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you turned down the nearby street, running as fast as you could without looking back.

You kept running, trying to outrun the mess of emotions that swirled inside you. The awkwardness, the guilt, the confusion—it was all too much. And you couldn’t deal with it now.

As you finally slowed down, your breath coming in heavy gasps, you leaned against a nearby wall, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your heartbeat. You’d never done anything like that before—just ran away from a conversation like it was nothing. But in that moment, it felt like the only thing you could do.

What had just happened? Why did his words make you feel like everything inside you was unraveling?

You were doing well—at least, you thought you were.

For the past few days, you had managed to avoid any direct interaction with Wonwoo. You kept your distance, keeping your head down whenever he was around, avoiding his gaze, and hiding whenever you could. It was easier that way. You convinced yourself it was better this way.

But then, on this particular day, as you were gathering your things at the end of class, preparing to leave, you felt a tug on the hood of your jacket. You froze, instinctively jerking away from the sudden contact.

"Y/N," a calm voice spoke, and you looked up to find Wonwoo standing there, looking down at you with a slightly amused, yet nonchalant expression. He didn’t seem angry, just... observing.

You felt your heart skip a beat, and before you could stop yourself, your cheeks began to heat up. His gaze was steady, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as if he was asking you, Are you really doing this?

You didn’t know how to respond. Every part of you wanted to turn away and just leave before things got any worse, but your feet felt rooted to the spot.

“I... I wasn’t... trying to hide,” you stammered, but your voice came out weaker than you’d intended.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, not saying anything at first. He didn’t need to. His gaze alone spoke volumes. He was just waiting for you to admit what was going on.

You shifted uncomfortably, biting your lower lip as you awkwardly tried to avoid his gaze. “I... didn’t know how to talk to you,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s been... confusing. And I thought... maybe it was better to just keep my distance.”

Wonwoo didn’t seem angry. In fact, the amused look on his face lingered, but there was something else there, something softer that you weren’t used to seeing from him. “You’ve been avoiding me for days now,” he said in that same calm tone, his voice unbothered. “But running away won’t make this go away, you know.”

You winced at his words, feeling the weight of them more than you wanted to admit. But you couldn’t deny that he was right. It wasn’t going to disappear just because you ran away from it.

“I... I don’t know what to say to you,” you confessed, feeling all your anxiety bubbling up again. “I don’t want to make things awkward. I just...”

“Just what?” Wonwoo asked, his expression unreadable now, his voice still quiet but insistent. “You think I won’t understand?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I don’t know if you will,” you murmured, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I thought maybe... maybe it was easier to just pretend it didn’t matter.”

Wonwoo studied you for a moment, his gaze softening slightly. “You think it doesn’t matter?” he asked, his voice low, almost thoughtful. “You’re the one who’s been giving me things, doing things for me. It matters.”

You felt your heart beat faster, unsure of how to handle this newfound vulnerability in his voice. It was unlike him, and it was making everything even more complicated.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you said quietly, your hands still fidgeting with the sleeves of your jacket. “I thought... maybe I was just being annoying.”

Wonwoo let out a soft sigh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Y/N... you weren’t being annoying. I just didn’t know how to respond to you, okay?” His voice softened further, a hint of frustration in it now, but not at you—at himself, maybe. "I didn't know what you wanted from me."

You stared at him, unsure what to say. His words were hitting you in a way you hadn’t expected, and the confusion that had been gnawing at you for so long started to ebb, replaced by a different kind of uncertainty.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

He looked away for a moment, as if embarrassed by his own admission, but then his gaze returned to yours. “I didn’t know how to. It’s easier for me to just... not talk about these things." He paused, then gave you a small, almost hesitant smile. "But I’m trying, okay?”

The sincerity in his words made your chest ache, and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, but at the same time, it was replaced by something new—something you weren’t sure you were ready for.

“So... what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, almost afraid of the answer.

Wonwoo stepped closer, a subtle movement that somehow felt like the most intimate thing. His expression was still calm, but there was a softness in it now that made your heart race. “Now, we talk. No more running away.”

You didn’t know what that would mean for you, for him, for whatever this was between you. But right now, it felt like you might finally be able to stop avoiding the truth.

You find yourself sitting across him at a diner outside campus. The booth was cozy, the dim lighting giving the place a warm, inviting atmosphere. But despite the warmth of the surroundings, you felt cold. The walls you’d carefully built around yourself seemed to be crumbling, and the closer you got to Wonwoo, the more vulnerable you felt.

You hadn’t said much since you’d arrived, your gaze bouncing around the diner, avoiding his eyes whenever they found yours.

Wonwoo, however, was watching you with quiet amusement, his gaze flickering between you and the menu in his hands. He could tell you were uncomfortable, restlessly fiddling with your hands, your eyes constantly darting away whenever he caught you looking at him.

"Hey," he finally said, his voice calm but carrying a teasing edge. "You seem a little... tense."

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond, but before you could say anything, you noticed your own body language—a slight fidget, your shoulders stiff, your legs crossed tightly. You shifted in your seat, trying to make yourself comfortable, but it wasn’t working. You couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze on you.

“I... I just don’t like sitting across from people,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your gaze still averted. “It’s too much pressure, I guess.”

Wonwoo didn’t hesitate. Without saying a word, he slid out of the booth, shifting to the side next to you. The movement was casual, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. He wasn’t judging you for your discomfort. Instead, he was meeting you halfway, making you feel... seen.

He settled beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned back against the booth, a relaxed smile spreading across his face. He was so close now, and you felt a sudden rush of warmth flood your chest. Your heart skipped a beat, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves. It was from the unexpected comfort of his presence.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low and surprisingly gentle, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of unease.

You nodded, but this time, you didn’t shy away from meeting his gaze. The proximity made everything feel a little more real, a little more grounded. And, for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel the need to run away.

“Yeah,” you murmured, still a little flustered, but this time, the smile on your lips was more genuine, more relaxed. “This feels better.”

Wonwoo smirked, clearly pleased with your response, but there was a softness in his eyes that made your chest tighten. “Good,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable around me.”

“So…” You hesitated for a moment, still unsure of how to navigate this new dynamic between you. “What now?”

Wonwoo’s gaze softened, and he shrugged casually, though his eyes held a certain sincerity. “Now, we eat, and we talk. You don’t have to worry about running away anymore.” He paused, then added with a small smile, “And no more avoiding me, okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. This wasn’t going to be easy, but maybe, just maybe, you were ready to start figuring things out—with him, and with yourself.

You nodded slowly, the silence between you wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t easy, either. It felt like there were a thousand unspoken words hanging in the air, and neither of you knew how to address them.

Then, Wonwoo spoke, his voice calm and steady. “What’s your go-to drink order?”

You blinked, startled by the question. Out of all the things he could’ve asked, that wasn’t what you expected. “Uh…” You hesitated, glancing at him briefly before looking back down at your hands. “Probably... iced vanilla latte. Or banana milk,” you added with a nervous laugh, gesturing to the nearly empty carton in front of you, you pulled it out of your bag a few minutes ago.

Wonwoo nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I figured you liked banana milk. I see you drinking it a lot.”

Your cheeks heated up at his observation, and you ducked your head, suddenly very aware of how closely he paid attention to you. “Yeah, it’s kind of a comfort drink,” you admitted softly. “What about you?”

“Americano,” he replied easily. “No sugar.”

You scrunched your nose at that, and Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle at your reaction. “What?” he teased. “Not a fan of bitter drinks?”

“Not really,” you admitted, daring a quick glance at him before looking away again. “I like sweet things.”

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving you. “What’s your favorite dessert?”

You bit your lip, trying to think. The way he was watching you so intently made your brain feel foggy, and it was hard to focus. “Probably... cheesecake,” you finally said. “Strawberry cheesecake.”

He hummed thoughtfully, as if filing that piece of information away. “Strawberry cheesecake,” he repeated, his voice soft. “Noted.”

“Why are you asking me this?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Wonwoo shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just trying to get to know you better.”

That answer caught you off guard. You looked down at your lap, your hands twisting nervously. “But... why?”

He didn’t answer right away, and when you finally gathered the courage to look up at him, you found him watching you with a softness in his eyes that made your heart ache. “Because I want to,” he said simply, his voice quiet but certain.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you quickly looked away again, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Wonwoo didn’t push you to say anything else. He let the silence settle again, but it didn’t feel as heavy this time. It felt... different. Like he was giving you space to process, to breathe.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe he wasn’t as far out of reach as you’d always thought.

It's suppose to be another normal day. You're in class, sitting next to MImi still feeling sleepy but then something slides infront of you.

You stared at the banana milk on your desk like it had suddenly sprouted wings. Slowly, you turned back to look at Wonwoo, who was casually flipping through his notebook like this was the most normal thing in the world.

Mimi, sitting to your right, nudged your arm, her expression a mix of confusion and barely-contained glee. “What’s going on?” she whispered, her eyes darting between you and Wonwoo like she was trying to piece together a crime scene.

“I have no idea,” you whispered back

You leaned slightly toward Wonwoo, lowering your voice as much as possible. “What are you doing?”

“Attending class,” he replied, not even looking up from his notebook. His tone was so calm, so casual, that for a moment you thought you’d imagined him moving seats altogether.

“Here?” you pressed, glancing over your shoulder again to see his friends Vernon and Minghao, who were both watching the two of you with poorly hidden smirks. Minghao even gave you a small wave, which only made you more flustered.

Wonwoo finally looked at you, his expression as neutral as ever. “Why not?”

Before you could respond, he nudged the banana milk closer to you. “You like this, right?”

You blinked down at the carton, your brain short-circuiting. “I... yeah, but—”

“Then drink it.” His tone was soft but firm, leaving no room for argument.

Beside you, Mimi’s jaw was practically on the floor. “Okay, what is going on here?” she hissed under her breath, leaning closer to you. “Did you bribe him? Threaten him? Sell your soul to some matchmaking demon?”

“I don’t know!” you whispered back, your voice frantic as you stared at the banana milk like it held all the answers to life’s mysteries.

Wonwoo, clearly aware of the hushed conversation happening beside him, leaned back in his chair and glanced at Mimi. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his calm demeanor never faltering.

Mimi froze, her eyes wide as she realized he was addressing her directly. “Uh, no? Nothing’s wrong,” she stammered, clearly trying to play it cool. “Just... curious, that’s all.”

Wonwoo nodded, satisfied with her answer, and turned his attention back to his notebook, leaving you and Mimi to exchange bewildered looks.

The rest of the class passed in a blur. You were hyper-aware of Wonwoo’s presence beside you, the subtle sound of him turning pages, the occasional shift in his seat, even the faint scent of his cologne. You couldn’t focus on the lecture to save your life, and every time you caught Mimi looking at you, she wiggled her eyebrows in a way that made you want to crawl under the desk.

When the class finally ended, you quickly packed up your things, eager to escape before your brain completely melted. But as you stood up, Wonwoo grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Walk with me,” he said, his tone more of a statement than a question.

You glanced at Mimi, who was watching the scene unfold with wide eyes and a grin that was far too smug for your liking. “Go ahead,” she said, waving you off. “I’ll meet you later.”

Before you could argue, Wonwoo gently tugged your wrist, guiding you toward the door. You followed him, your heart racing as you wondered what on earth he was up to now.

You were half jogging to keep up with Wonwoo’s long strides, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist as he led you through the campus. It wasn’t like he was walking that fast—it was just that his legs were ridiculously long compared to yours.

Your steps were hurried, almost clumsy, as you tried to keep up. “Wonwoo,” you huffed, glancing at his back, “can you slow down? Not all of us have tree trunks for legs, you know.”

He glanced back at you, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “We’ll be late if I slow down,” he said simply, but his pace did ease up slightly.

It was almost cute—too cute, honestly. The height difference, the way you had to trudge along behind him like a kid trying to keep up. And then there was him: calm, composed, and acting like dragging you to your next class was just a normal, everyday occurrence.

By the time you reached the door of your classroom, you were slightly out of breath. Wonwoo, of course, looked as unbothered as ever. He gently let go of your wrist and gestured for you to go in.

“Go,” he said, his tone soft but firm.

You blinked up at him, confused. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To my class,” he replied, as though it was obvious.

You frowned, gesturing vaguely in the direction you had just come from. “Your class isn’t here?”

“Nope,” he said, already turning on his heel to walk away. “It’s on the other side of campus.”

You stared at him, your jaw dropping. “The opposite side?”

He paused, glancing over his shoulder to meet your incredulous gaze. “Yeah,” he said nonchalantly.

“Then why did you—” You cut yourself off, not even sure how to finish the sentence.

Wonwoo just shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Felt like walking you,” he said simply, as though it was no big deal.

And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing at the door of your classroom, completely flustered and at a loss for words.

What is he doing to me? you thought, burying your face in your hands. Whatever game Wonwoo was playing, it was definitely working.

This new routine had become so normal that you almost stopped questioning it—not that you were any less flustered every time Wonwoo waited for you after class or walked you across campus. It was just easier to let it happen, even if your heart constantly felt like it was doing somersaults. Mimi teased you endlessly about it, of course, but you’d stopped trying to defend yourself. What could you even say?

One afternoon, just as class was ending, Wonwoo approached you while you were packing up your things. You were expecting him to grab his bag and lead you out of the room like usual, but instead, he hesitated.

“I have something to do after class today,” he said, his voice soft yet direct, his hands casually shoved into his pockets. “I can’t drive you home.”

You blinked up at him, surprised. “Oh, that’s okay. I can just—”

“Wait,” he interrupted, giving you a look that made you freeze. “Are you going to walk home alone?”

You faltered, unsure how to answer. “I mean, it’s not that far...”

He frowned at that, clearly not liking your response. “I don’t like the idea of you walking home alone.”

Your heart did a little flip at his words, but you quickly brushed it off, waving your hand dismissively. “It’s really fine, Wonwoo. I’ve walked home alone before.”

“Not anymore,” he said firmly, pulling out his phone.

You raised an eyebrow as he started dialing, wondering what on earth he was doing. “What are you—”

“Hey,” he said into the phone, cutting you off. “Where are you right now? Can you drive someone home for me?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he really calling someone just to make sure you didn’t walk home alone?

A few moments later, he hung up and turned back to you. “Vernon and Minghao are nearby. They’ll drive you home.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, your voice rising slightly in disbelief. “Wonwoo, you don’t have to—”

“I already did,” he said simply, grabbing his bag. “They’ll meet you outside in five minutes. Just wait for them, okay?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look he gave you stopped you in your tracks. It wasn’t stern, exactly, but it was... serious. Protective. Like he genuinely wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to you.

You sighed, realizing there was no point in arguing. “Fine,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

He softened at that, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good. I’ll text you later.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind reeling.

When you made your way outside, Vernon and Minghao were waiting by Vernon’s car, both of them looking far too amused for your liking.

“So,” Vernon said, leaning casually against the hood of the car, “you’re the one Wonwoo’s been babying lately.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Can we not talk about this?”

Minghao chuckled, opening the passenger door for you. “Don’t worry, we won’t tease you too much. Wonwoo’s been... different lately, though. It’s kind of interesting to watch.”

“Different how?” you asked, sliding into the car and buckling your seatbelt.

Vernon smirked as he started the engine. “Let’s just say you bring out a side of him we didn’t know existed.”

You couldn’t decide if that made you feel flattered or even more flustered. Either way, as they drove you home, you couldn’t stop thinking about the lengths Wonwoo had gone to just to make sure you were safe. And even though it was embarrassing, a small, shy smile found its way to your lips.

Later that night, just as you were about to settle into bed, your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You blinked at the screen, momentarily stunned when you saw the name.

Wonwoo.

Your heart immediately started racing. He had texted you before, sure, but calling? This was new. Hesitantly, you picked up, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” His voice was deep and smooth, laced with a certain warmth that made you grip your phone a little tighter. “Did you get home okay?”

You felt your lips twitch into a smile despite yourself. “Yeah, Vernon and Minghao dropped me off. You really didn’t have to go that far, you know.”

“I did,” he said simply. “I told you, I don’t like you walking alone.”

There was something about the way he said it—calm, steady, certain—that made your chest feel warm. You bit your lip, trying to ignore the giddy feeling bubbling inside you.

Instead, you changed the subject. “How was your thing after class? You never said what it was.”

“Just something for a group project,” he answered. “It took longer than I expected.”

You hummed in understanding. “That sucks.”

He let out a quiet chuckle. “Yeah. Anyway, how was your day?”

At that, you perked up, launching into a detailed retelling of everything that had happened since class. You told him about Mimi’s latest antics, how she nearly got into an argument with a professor because she was convinced she turned in her assignment when she actually hadn’t. You talked about how Vernon and Minghao teased you the whole car ride home, about the new café you wanted to try, and even the silly little things that made you laugh that day.

Somewhere along the way, you noticed he had gone quiet.

“Wonwoo?” you called, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Are you still there?”

There was a pause, then his voice came through the speaker—soft, almost gentle.

“Go on, I’m listening.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

There was something different about the way he said it. He wasn’t just saying it to fill the silence. He meant it. He liked listening to you.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, but you pushed forward, finishing your story despite how shy you suddenly felt.

When you finally ran out of things to say, he let out a contented hum. “You should get some rest,” he murmured. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your heart melted at how soft his voice was. “Okay,” you said quietly.

“Goodnight,” he added, and you swore you could hear the smallest smile in his voice.

“Goodnight, Wonwoo.”

The call ended, and for a moment, you just sat there, staring at your phone. Then, all at once, the emotions hit you like a tidal wave.

You let out a loud groan, grabbed your pillow, and screamed into it.

“What are you doing to me, Jeon Wonwoo?!”

Your pillow, of course, had no answers. But one thing was clear—you were so doomed.

It's a few weeks later, you're at the cafe you frequently hang out when you have free time. The usual, you're on your yapping mode while Wonwoo listens. But then you said something you didn't mean to tell him.

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze.

You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It was just one of those things you only ever admitted to Mimi—how you were so confused about what was going on between you and Wonwoo.

But now, you had just said it. Right in front of him.

Your heart stopped.

Slowly, hesitantly, you turned to look at him.

Wonwoo was already staring at you, that small, amused smile still lingering on his lips—but his eyes held something else. Something unreadable.

For the first time, he didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t tease you, didn’t brush it off. He just watched you, as if he was carefully thinking about what to say.

You scrambled to fix it. “I-I mean—” you let out a nervous laugh, waving your hands. “Forget I said that! It was just, um, something stupid I told Mimi—”

Wonwoo tilted his head, his gaze still locked on you. “You’re confused?” he asked, his voice calm.

You swallowed. “I mean... yeah?”

Silence.

The tension was unbearable. Your heart was practically screaming in your chest.

Finally, he leaned back, eyes flickering to the coffee in front of him. Then, after a long pause, he spoke again.

“What do you want us to be?”

Your breath hitched.

You stared at him, unsure if you heard him correctly. Your mind raced, completely unprepared for the question.

“I—” you fumbled, gripping the edge of your sleeves. “I don’t know...”

Another pause. Then, he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Liar.”

Your head snapped up. “Excuse me?!”

Wonwoo met your gaze again, eyes knowing, almost too knowing. He didn’t look mad. If anything, he looked fond—like he had already figured out the answer before you even realized it yourself.

Your face burned. “I’m not lying—”

“You’ve liked me for a long time.” His voice was so casual, so matter-of-fact, that it left you speechless.

Your entire body tensed.

Oh my god.

He knew.

Of course, he knew.

Everyone knew. You knew he knew. But hearing him say it so bluntly, with no hesitation—it made your stomach flip.

You wanted to disappear.

“I—” You swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at him. “Okay, so maybe that’s true, but—”

“But?” He was still watching you, waiting.

“But I don’t know what you want.” The words came out smaller than you intended, but they were honest. “You... you’re always around now, Wonwoo. You drive me home, you wait for me after class, you listen to me ramble all the time. I just—” You bit your lip. “I don’t know what that means to you.”

Another silence.

Wonwoo didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he reached for his coffee, taking a slow sip. Then, with the same infuriatingly calm expression, he set it back down, resting his chin against his palm as he gazed at you.

And then—

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Your hands clenched under the table, heart pounding in your ears. You knew what he was implying, you felt what he was saying without words, but you still couldn’t believe it.

And Wonwoo—knowing you so well—could see that.

So, he leaned in slightly, his voice quieter this time.

“I wouldn’t do all of this if you weren’t special to me.”

Your brain short-circuited.

You felt like your heart had stopped entirely, like you had forgotten how to breathe.

Jeon Wonwoo—who had spent years acting nonchalant toward you—was now sitting here, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You didn’t know what to say.

So, naturally, you panicked.

“I—um—I need to go to the bathroom!” you blurted out, shoving your chair back as you stood up abruptly.

Wonwoo blinked, a bit startled, before letting out a soft chuckle. “You’re running away?”

“I am not running away!”

“You’re literally running away.”

“I need to pee!” you lied, voice high-pitched as you quickly turned toward the restroom.

Behind you, you heard Wonwoo laugh—actually laugh—before calling out, “I’ll be here when you get back.”

You groaned, covering your face as you rushed away.

This was too much.

Jeon Wonwoo was too much.

When you finally gathered the courage to come back, your heart was still hammering in your chest. You had taken extra minutes in the restroom just to stare at yourself in the mirror, mentally screaming and trying to convince yourself to act normal.

Except—how could you act normal after what just happened?

You cautiously made your way back to the booth, and there he was—Wonwoo, sitting comfortably with one arm draped over the back of the seat, sipping his drink as if he hadn't just dropped that bomb on you.

And then, when he noticed you, his lips curled into that teasing smile.

“You good?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. “Took you a while.”

Your face heated.

“I had to—um, you know—actually pee.” You sat down stiffly, eyes fixed on the table.

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t look convinced at all.

You fidgeted, not knowing what to say. Now that you knew he felt something for you, you had no idea how to act around him. You weren’t prepared for this. You had spent so long assuming your feelings were one-sided that the moment he admitted otherwise, your brain completely shut down.

And Wonwoo—of course—noticed.

He watched you with that quiet amusement, letting the silence stretch between you. Then, after a beat, he spoke again.

“Are you still confused?”

Your breath caught.

You looked up at him—finally meeting his gaze—and you regretted it immediately because he was already staring at you.

His dark eyes, calm and steady, held a kind of certainty that made your stomach flip.

“I—” You swallowed. “I don’t know.”

Wonwoo hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly. “I see.”

You thought that would be the end of it, that he would back off and give you time to process—but no.

Instead, he leaned in.

Not dramatically, not forcefully. Just enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence, enough that your breath hitched and your hands curled into fists in your lap.

Then, in a voice so quiet that it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered,

“Then tell me…”

His eyes flickered to your lips before locking back onto yours.

“What do you want me to be?”

Your brain short-circuited.

Your body went completely still.

The weight of the question—the meaning behind it—hit you all at once, and suddenly, everything felt too real.

Wonwoo was still watching you, waiting, his face unfairly close to yours. He wasn’t teasing anymore. He wasn’t joking. He was giving you the choice—asking you to decide what this was between you.

And you…

You had no idea how to answer.

Because for the first time ever—

You realized that your silly little crush wasn’t so one-sided after all.

Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you were sure he could hear it.

What did you want him to be?

For so long, you had thought the answer was simple—you wanted him, you always had. But now that he was actually asking you, the words caught in your throat.

You were frozen, caught between the overwhelming weight of your long-time feelings and the terrifying reality of facing them head-on.

Wonwoo didn’t move. He was still leaning close, his dark eyes fixed on yours, waiting patiently. He wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pushing you to answer, but that only made it worse.

You wanted to say something, anything, but all that came out was a small, breathless,

“I—”

And then you panicked.

Your body moved before your brain could catch up—you quickly grabbed your drink and took the biggest gulp imaginable, as if that would somehow wash away the moment.

It didn’t.

Instead, Wonwoo let out a quiet chuckle, finally leaning back, giving you space.

“You’re cute when you panic.”

You almost choked.

“I’m not panicking,” you sputtered, setting your drink down with a little too much force.

His lips twitched, clearly not believing you. “So, what’s your answer?”

“I—” You exhaled, gripping the hem of your shirt. “This is a lot, okay? You just—you never made it seem like you liked me before, and now you’re—” You gestured vaguely at him. “—doing all this and it’s messing with my brain.”

Wonwoo tilted his head, looking at you with quiet curiosity. “I never made it seem like I liked you?”

You gave him a look.

He hummed, gaze flickering downward for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “That’s not true.”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

“I just… don’t show it the way you do.” He said it so casually, so matter-of-fact, as if it was something you should’ve known all along.

You stared at him, your brain struggling to process his words.

And then, as if to prove his point, Wonwoo reached out—his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment before he grabbed your wrist, gently pulling your hand closer to him.

Your breath hitched.

“Do you really think I would’ve let just anyone take care of me the way you did?” His voice was lower now, softer, as his thumb absentmindedly traced slow circles against the back of your hand. “I noticed, you know. Every time you saved me a seat, every time you gave me something without expecting anything in return.”

You swallowed thickly.

Wonwoo glanced down at your intertwined hands, as if realizing he was still holding you. But instead of letting go, he gave your fingers a small, almost hesitant squeeze.

“I didn’t ignore it because I didn’t care,” he admitted. “I just… didn’t know how to respond.”

The confession made something in your chest tighten.

Wonwoo had always been unreadable to you—his quiet, nonchalant demeanor making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. But now, sitting here with him, listening to him actually talk about his feelings, you realized that he wasn’t cold at all. He was just careful.

He let out a quiet sigh. “But when you stopped…” His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “I didn’t like that.”

You blinked. “You didn’t?”

He shook his head. “No.”

It was such a simple response, yet it made your heart race all over again.

There was a small beat of silence before he spoke again, quieter this time.

“I missed you.”

Your chest ached.

All this time, you had thought your feelings were a burden to him—that he barely noticed you, let alone missed you. But here he was, telling you otherwise, proving you wrong in the gentlest way possible.

Your fingers curled around his, gripping back.

“…I missed you too.”

Wonwoo smiled, the kind of small, rare smile that made your stomach flip.

“So,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, “are you still confused?”

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. “…Maybe.”

He chuckled. “Then should I make it clearer?”

You sucked in a breath when he leaned in again, just close enough that you could see the soft curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes.

His gaze flickered to your mouth, then back to your eyes.

“What do you want me to be?” he asked again, voice barely above a whisper.

"Do I have to answer now?"

Wonwoo just smiled at your question. That soft, knowing kind of smile that made your stomach do flips.

“Take your time,” he said simply, "You waited for me, without expecting anything. It's my turn now" he tells you.

You could barely meet his eyes, your fingers twitching against his. “I just—this is a lot, okay?”

“I know.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles in a soothing motion. “That’s why I’m letting you decide.”

That didn’t help at all.

You groaned internally, dropping your forehead onto the table in defeat. “You’re making this so much worse, Jeon Wonwoo.”

He chuckled, and you could feel his amusement. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

“You’re the one blushing like crazy.”

“Shut up.”

He laughed again, and you hated how much you loved the sound.

After a moment, you hesitantly lifted your head, still unable to look at him directly. “…So, you’re not gonna, like, be weird about this?”

“Nope.”

“You’re not gonna pressure me?”

“No.”

“You’re just gonna… wait?”

Wonwoo leaned back against the booth, his hand still comfortably wrapped around yours. “As long as you need me to, as long as you want me here”

Your breath hitched.

Oh.

You bit your lip, feeling your heart squeeze at his words.

“…Okay,” you mumbled.

“Okay?”

You nodded shyly, finally—finally—glancing up at him. “I’ll think about it.”

His lips twitched, amused. “Good.”

And then, like it was the easiest thing in the world, Wonwoo lifted your hand to his lips and pressed the lightest, softest kiss against your knuckles.

Your brain completely shut down.

“You—” You squeaked, yanking your hand back as if you had just been electrocuted.

Wonwoo just smirked.

“Take your time,” he repeated, looking way too satisfied with himself. “I’ll wait.”

And you knew—you knew—that no matter how much you tried to think about it, your heart had already decided.

[delswine]

LET'S CLARIFY THE COMMENTS 𝄒 ⸝. P. SH

the thing is, you couldn't even imagine how Enhypen's visual Sunghoon, who made millions fall in love with him, would react when you gossiped with your idol friends about his sex life.

"you seem to know too much, baby."

ᆢ ۢ pairing: arrogant¡idol¡dom!sunghoon × bratty¡idol¡sub!f.reader

contains some members of enhypen, aespa, le sseraphim, ive.

ᆢ �� genre: smut (MDNI) with a tiny plot.

ᆢ ۢ warning: strangers to smth, unprotected sex (nope, not for you babe), spitting, hair pulling, pet names, dirty talk, reader is down bad, some praising, oral (f&m rec), teasing, overstimulation, hickeys, fingering, slight choking, begging, manhandling... may contain more, lmk if i missed.

ᆢ ۢ notes: well, my little braincells, this is my first on tumblr so don't judge me plz. and this girl is not a native english speaker, fyi. hope you enjoy?? (plz enjoy or i'll kms)

more undercut!

you leaned forward slightly as you brushed your waist-length hair out of your eyes, continuing your speech that had caught the girls' attention as if you were going to tell them a secret. "don't he seem like a sub? sure, he may be handsome, but he's so cold and arrogant. god, I swear on my soul that his dick is small!"

well, those weren't exactly well-supported thoughts. more like- more like the hatred you spewed at Park Sunghoon for not even having his number. who could've blame you? Park Sunghoon was arguably the most cold and apathetic one in the industry among idols. if any idols topic came up while talking to girls, at least one of them would definitely have hung out with that person, but Sunghoon? nope, not even a chance. he refused to talk to any female or male idol who asked for or contacted him for his number, distancing himself from everyone with that condescending look on his face.

and you... you wanted him, god damn it, you wanted him so bad. Sunghoon fucking you was something that had been haunting your dreams lately. while you can have all the male celebrities you want wrapped around your finger, it was making you angry that you didn't even have Park Sunghoon's number. when you asked him he said he wasn't interested. to you! who could say no to you?

and here you are, venting your anger at Sunghoon for no reason and without him even knowing it by belittling him and starting rumors.

Wonyoung sipped her drink while laughing lightly. “you really have a grudge against him, he’s not actually that arrogant. he’s just cold. you're just mad because he didn’t give you his number, y/n.” Giselle couldn't help but tease you. "our queen bee got rejected for the first time in her life! let's get a depression blanket and a jar of nutella for miss y/n!" you let out a frustrated breath and leaned back. you looked at sunghoon’s face a few tables away and spoke sarcastically.

“i’m sure he’s a virgin and gay or something. and i’m not depressed or anything, Gigi. i could have a line of guys at my door if i wanted to. his loss.”

—

well, fuck the loss. you're the one who is losing. every time that man performed on stage, you felt like you were going to explode. how could a person look so flawless? you wanted to beg to get under the man you were raving about just a few minutes ago.

as you focused on the song to distract yourself from thoughts about Sunghoon, you curiously took the paper that an staff had reached out to you. he wasn't part of your group's crew, so you could tell the paper was from another idol. you tucked the paper in your pocket so the fans wouldn't think anything of it.

a few minutes later, when the performance was over, you got up from your seat and went backstage to go to the bathroom. as you walked to the bathroom among the rushing staff, you took out the paper from your pocket.

"you will come to my waiting room after the show ends to clarify your comments about my small dick."

as an angry and confused laugh spilled from your lips, you didn't even think about going. why would you listen to him?

and yes, your thoughts didn't seem to matter because you found yourself in front of Sunghoon's personal waiting room after the ending ceremony.

even though you came here, you were just standing in front of the door, not knowing what to do. as you debated with your thoughts between knocking on the door, going straight in, and turning back, you felt a shadow rising from behind you.

Park Sunghoon.

as you turned your head slightly to look at him, Sunghoon walked past you and opened the door, not even bothering to look at your face. he spoke with firm and demanding tone, leaving the door open behind him. "come in and close the door."

while you entered inside, doing as he said, without knowing the reason, Sunghoon took off his tie, which was part of his stage costume, in front of the table with his back to you and left it on the table. once he had taken off his jacket and was left with a white shirt hugging his muscular upper body, he turned to you. he walked towards you and spoke in a cold voice as he unbuttoned the cufflinks of his shirt and folded one of his sleeves.

"it's surprising you're not still on your knees."

you were taken aback. your eyebrows furrowed slightly, and your lips parted in surprise. as you searched for your voice that you thought you had escaped into, Sunghoon spoke once more. there was now only a step between you.

"what's with this reaction? wasn't that the reason you made those know-it-all comments about my dick because you wanted it deep inside all your holes?"

you tried to focus on forming sentences without stuttering. you were embarrassed that your voice sounded so weak. "what are you talking aba-" Sunghoon grabbed your chin, pinching your cheeks between his fingers, causing your lips to pucker as he leaned over you. he spoke in a sarcastic tone while raising one eyebrow. "did I say you can talk? on your knees."

the feeling of wetness in your panties made you feel humiliated as your hands trembled slightly. as you looked into Sunghoon's eyes with a slightly timid but eager gaze and didn't even attempt to kneel down, Sunghoon let out a deep breath. his hand reached your throat and squeezed lightly, taking your breath away as he pushed you hard against the door behind you and leaned on you. you placed your hands over Sunghoon’s as a small groan escaped your lips from the pain in your back. he didn’t completely take your breath away, just made it a little harder. "we both know that what you said was just to piss me off and provoke me to fuck the brat out of you. now, you'll get what you wanted. on your knees. if you make me say it one more time, i'll overstimulate and edge you for hours."

when Sunghoon’s hand left your neck, you swallowed and fell to your knees, biting your lip lightly. he was right, this was what you wanted. now you could show him what he was missing at first, then leave him begging you to continue.

"you know what to do."

your hands found the waistband of Sunghoon's pants. you undid his belt first, then the button, and pulled down the zipper. you pulled down his pants and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. as you raised your eyes and looked down at him, you saw Sunghoon unbutton the top buttons of his shirt. when he looked at you with dark eyes, you looked away and pulled out his not erect cock from his boxer. the big dick in front of you, even when not erect, was proof that what the things you were saying would soon go into your ass. besides being huge, it was also mouthwatering.

you turned your eyes to Sunghoon once more and parted your lips, taking the tip of his cock into your mouth. no reaction.

you started to caress the dick with your hand, then took it into your mouth and started sucking it. no reaction.

you wrapped your tongue around him, running it over his veins. no reaction.

even though you had made his cock semi-hard, Sunghoon continued to look at you without even the slightest moan. when you got angry and touched it your teeths lightly, Sunghoon hissed lightly and grabbed you by the hair. he pulled your head back and leaned over you. "you're pushing your luck too much. open your mouth."

before you could swallow the saliva that spilled from his mouth to your mouth, Sunghoon pushed his dick into your mouth with the help of his hand in your hair. your hands quickly found Sunghoon’s thighs as he moved your head back and forth, moving his waist at the same time and started to fuck your throat. you digged your nails into Sunghoon’s skin as you rolled your eyes at him once more, letting out a meaningless moan because your mouth was full. even though you felt like you had won a victory when you heard a soft groan from Sunghoon who was looking at you, what had happened to your plan to leave him alone? as you watched with lustful eyes from below as Sunghoon threw his head back and moaned, every time you tried to pull away and leave him, Sunghoon would push your head back down onto his cock.

"nuh-uh, you're going nowhere baby. you'll take it just like you wanted."

you stared at him desperate as your eyes filled reflexively under Sunghoon’s harsh thrusts. the fact that you were enjoying this made you feel humiliated. you had created a pool in your panties while sucking the cock of a man who was using you shamelessly.

Sunghoon’s moans filled the room and the words he used made you want to suck him even more. "fuck, yes- just like that. take it like a good girl.. ah, look at your eyes.. you're enjoying this, don't you?"

Sunghoon pulled back as your hot seed formed a web in your throat. you fell onto your hips, out of breath, and pressed your hand to your lips. grabbing your chin and forcing your angry gaze into his own eyes, Sunghoon grinned. "you seem to have lost the bet on your soul. c'mere."

Sunghoon easily manhandled and lifted you up, grabbing you by your waist. he grinned as he pulled you closer to him. his free hand slid under your skirt and caressed your skin, dangerously close to your pussy. your hands quickly move to his shoulders, applying a weak and reluctant pressure to push, while Sunghoon’s hand quickly reaches your clothed clit. contrary to his calm demeanor, you quickly broke apart and moaned, letting out a shaky breath. Sunghoon grinned at the wetness he felt through your panties as he moved his fingers in circles over your clit. he mumbled between your messy moans.

"sub under the handsome face, huh? at least you have the decency to admit that you think i'm handsome."

your legs trembled as his two fingers pushed your panties aside and entered your warm cunt without warning. you felt like you were going to fall, but Sunghoon’s hand on your waist kept you upright. he leaned down and whispered in your ear as he started to move his fingers rapidly, turning you into a moaning mess.

"beg."

your lips parted quickly, Sunghoon hadn’t even done anything to turn you on this much yet but you couldn’t resist. you were absolutely nothing when it comes to Park Sunghoon.

"p-please, god- fuck.. please do so-something.."

Sunghoon's eyebrows rose as he smiled. as his fingers in your pussy sped up, he looked at you mockingly, and spoke. "well done, but not enough. you should try harder, honey." his thumb rubbing your clit roughly, leaving you breathless once again. you were digging your nails into Sunghoon’s arms as your eyes filled with arousal.

"fuck- i'm so s-sorry, i'm so-fuck- i-i won't lie again! please-Sunghoon please make me cum!"

Sunghoon's eyes filled with pleasure as he sped up his fingers, giving you the movement you needed to cum. you stood on your tiptoes, your moans filling the room as you came, legs shaking from the hard thrusts inside you. your head fell back, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

the moment he thought you could open your eyes again, Sunghoon lifted your head and pressed his lips to yours. after a passionate kiss, he pulled back and pointed to the couch behind him. "strip and lie down, baby. we're not done yet."

after getting rid of your clothes, when you reached the couch with an empty mind and lay down, Sunghoon quickly found his place on you and settled between your legs. he grabbed your ankle and pressed his lips gently against your skin to leave a few kisses on your calf. sweet whimpers escaped your lips until his lips reached your thigh, leaving light marks with bite marks on your legs.

you wouldn't have to think twice to realize that if you weren't an idol, Sunghoon would have left his marks all over your body.

when Sunghoon’s lips found the lips of your pussy, your back tensed up quickly, you grabbed Sunghoon’s hair with a moan as you jumped like a spring. your grip on his hair tightened and your moans got louder when Sunghoon started making out with your pussy without waiting.

Sunghoon’s grip on your hips tightened as you tried to get out of his grip while your tearful moans continued. you try to keep your voice down by pressing your lips with one hand, while your other hand is still on Sunghoon's hair. you could feel Sunghoon smirking at your reactions as he tongued your clit, ignoring the harsh tug on his hair.

"shit-so good.. ngh- please d-don't stop--"

you felt your body rush into relaxation, pressing Sunghoon’s head into your hips as you dug your nails into his scalp. when Sunghoon lightened his grip, allowing you to use him, you rolled your hips towards Sunghoon’s face, grinding against his tongue. you thought it was done when you chased another orgasm filled with lots of moans and tremors.

but Sunghoon didn't think like that.

he grabbed one of your legs, lifted it up, spread your legs and aligned his dick at your entrance, sliding inside without warning. you shook as tears of pleasure flowed from your eyes, digging your nails into the seat as you shivered and tried to catch your breath. Sunghoon slowly started to move as he straightened up and took off his shirt, throwing it to the side. before you could even taste the sight of his completely naked body, Sunghoon sped up. you were making meaningless sentences as he thrust into you faster, making you cry even more.

"fuck, look how wet you are.. you're really having fun, don't you princess?" Sunghoon's voice thinned slightly between his own moans, then a deep groan escaped from his throat. "yes, god, y-yes! S-Sunghoon-!"

Sunghoon thrusts hard into your cunt, as he grips your hips tightly, leaving fingerprints on your skin. Sunghoon continued talking as the two of you’re moans filled the room. "so tight f'me.. fuck.. you're too pretty to be real." you were too messy to even hear his compliments. your neatly styled hair was a mess, your makeup was smeared all over your face, your eyes barely distinguishing a straight line.

when you felt like you were going to cum again because of Sunghoon’s fingers playing with your clit, you wrapped your arms around Sunghoon’s neck in an effort to feel close. "hnghm— s-so good-"

Sunghoon didn’t resist your grip, leaning over you and letting you hug him as he began to leave passionate marks on your neck. your sobbing was the only thing that graced the room with your moans as you filled the young man’s back with marks with your nails. when Sunghoon’s lips found yours, you felt like you could barely hold in the kiss for all the moans you were letting out.

as your body tensed as you neared orgasm once again, Sunghoon noticed it too. while your waist was constantly moving up and down on the couch, Sunghoon kept you on the couch by pressing his hand hard on your waist, erecting you and increasing his play on your clit. "d-don't stop, please, mngh— S-sunghoon-oh—fuck!" as Sunghoon grinned at your messy state, he intensified his thrusts one last time as he felt close to cumming.

you came almost at the same time as your scream of pleasure and Sunghoon’s moan as he buried himself deep inside you. while you were waiting for your breath to recover, Sunghoon must not have thought so because his fingers on your clit continued their rapid movements, slowly moving in and out of you. "use your words, baby. show me you've learned your lesson."

you moaned at the movements in your sensitive pussy as your hips wiggled to escape Sunghoon’s movements. your lips parted quickly, you spoke without thinking. "Sunghoon, S-Sunghoon-please.. fuck, i-i learned my lesson, i, i am sorry, i am so sorry, p-please slow- fuck aghmn- i won't do it again—"

Sunghoon listened to your pleads until he was satisfied, then smiled and slowed down, pulling out. before removing his fingers from your clit, he gave your swollen pussy a light slap.

as your body collapsed weakly onto the couch, Sunghoon leaned over you and placed a few gentle kisses on your shoulders. as you both caught your breath, he got off you and gently helped you clean up with a towel he had picked up from the table. it was surprising to see that the man who was pressing you down into the couch a few minutes ago was the same man who was holding your legs as if they were porcelain that would break. but you liked it anyways.

Sunghoon leaned down and kissed your waist roughly as he cleaned you up. he hummed as his hand caressed your skin. "you okay? was i too rough?"

you felt your heart beat faster as you listened to Sunghoon’s words. you swallowed hard, avoiding his intense gaze and mumbled. "it's okay, i'm okay.. i.. i rally enjoyed it.." Sunghoon smiled and left a few more kisses on your skin before cleaning you completely.

—

okay, let's start from the beginning. here you are, giving a trailer with red cheeks to your idol friends gathered at your house.

Karina said while laughing excitedly. "okay okay, just tell us, was it big?"

the girls laughed at you as you pressed your head against Kazuha's shoulder next to you, the images flashing before your eyes. another question from Rei filled the room. "was he rough? did he aftercare?"

as you shook your legs in embarrassment and anger and lifted your head, the girls must not have finished messing with you because your groupmate Inchae asked you another question. "unnie, how many times he made you cum?"

the words had just escaped your lips when you couldn't stand the effort any longer and threw the chocolate packet in your hand at Inchae.

"yes it was so good I cried because of pleasure! are you happy!?"

as the girls' teasing filled the room, you were distracted by a message on your phone. you swallowed hard as you read the message on the screen, trying to suppress your racing heart.

"be ready at 8 pm on Sunday, I need to meet my little brat properly."

[honeyedmiller]

A Burning Desire part eight

firefighter!joel miller x f!reader

series masterlist

rating: 18+, minors do not interact.

warnings: fluff, vulnerability, shimmer mention!, brief mentions of past verbal abuse, angst, mentions of pregnancy (reader’s sister), extremely inaccurate descriptions of how insurance / payout works (just go with it, it’s fiction lol), smut (fingering, m!oral receiving, masturbation, phone sex), no use of y/n. if there’s anything i missed, please lmk.

word count: 10.6k

synopsis: joel and tommy are sent on a dangerous work trip.

a/n: fuck. thanks for being so patient with me. there’s hints of foreshadowing in this unrevised (sry) monster of a chapter, and the next chapter will be angsty. i hope you enjoy tho. thx for sticking around and reading my silly little story <3

Getting back into the swing of things after the holidays has always deemed itself to be arduous. You’re lucky you work from home, but you’d taken on the responsibility of getting Sarah out of the house in time to drive her to school. It’s not that you mind at all, you just hate getting up out of a warm bed, especially when you have Joel as your own personal furnace now. 

Having two weeks off of said responsibility was nice because you and Sarah got to sleep in and you made her breakfast with hot cocoa nearly every morning before you had to clock in for work. She’d spend most of her break over at her friend’s house or reading a book either in the living room or her room, anyway. 

She has since gone back to school, and having the house to yourself again is still a bit unnerving, which is why it’s nice on days like this where Joel has off from work and can spend some time with you. Even if you’re stuck in your home office on days like today, he checks in on you once in a while to make sure you’re doing okay. 

Today has been particularly hard, only because the client you’re working with is demanding as hell and your boss is jumping down your throat to make sure you appease said client. Your face is buried in your hands as you sit and decompress for a minute, and that’s when Joel decides to check in on you. It’s like the man has spidey senses for when you’re going through it or something. 

“Hey baby, I brought you some—” He stops short when he sees the state you’re currently in. 

“You okay, honeybee?” His voice is gentle and honestly concerned, and your heart melts yet again at how sweet he is. 

“Work’s just stressing me out a bit,” you answer truthfully. You look up at him from your seat as he stands beside you, setting down a small bowl of fruit for you to snack on next to you on the desk. You softly smile at the fruit before looking back up at him. “Thank you, handsome.” 

“Ain’t a thing, baby. ‘M sorry you’re so stressed. Anythin’ I can do to help?” 

He steps behind you now and his large, warm hands land on your shoulders before he begins to massage them. You groan softly and loll your head to the side, rolling your lips into your mouth before shaking your head. 

“Nah. Luckily this is my last day dealing with this client, so it’ll only be for a few more hours. Thank you though, baby. It means a lot.”

You reach up and grab one of his hands, giving it a thoughtful squeeze before you let go to reply to an email your boss sent you. 

“Well what if I told you that I have a date planned for us this weekend?” 

You look up at him with furrowed brows. “Where?” You ask, excitement taking over your body. 

“Well, I know everythin’s been kinda hectic with my accident and me healing, your sister’s news, you movin’ in, the holidays, and Tommy and Maria’s engagement. We’ve been so busy n’ we’ve barely had any time to ourselves outside of the house in a while, so I wanna take you somewhere kinda peaceful.” 

He doesn’t give away too much, but you’re already on board.  

“You’ve got me intrigued. Can’t wait to see what you have up that sleeve of yours.” 

“Good, ‘cus I also bought you a couple ‘a things to go along with this weekend’s date.” 

“Oh?” You give him an incredulous look, but his boyish shit-eating grin is all you need to see to not ask any further questions, no matter how piqued your curiosity is. 

You smile up at him and shake your head, focusing back on your work. You sit in silence for a couple of minutes as he continues to massage your shoulders while you type away. 

“I’m gonna go on a run. I’ll be back in time to fix you up some lunch.” He kisses the top of your head before you look up at him with a small smile. 

“If I wasn’t glued to this desk right now I’d join you,” you laugh. “Be careful out there, baby.” 

“Always am. Maybe I can exercise you in another way later on,” he says, smirking down at you with mischief written all over his face. 

“You’re insatiable, Mr. Miller.” But the idea doesn’t sound half bad. 

He holds his hands up defensively. “Can’t blame a guy for wantin’ to love his lady right, can you?” 

You roll your eyes with a laugh and tug him down gently by his shirt before giving him a lengthy kiss. You release him and pat his abdomen twice. “Have fun on your run, cowboy.” 

-

After a long week, the weekend finally rolled around and Joel still wouldn’t tell you exactly what you two were going to do on your date. 

He just kept reassuring you that you’d love it, and you’ve slowly learned to just go with the flow and not ask anymore questions. 

He insisted you wear a blindfold this time, and made you get into his truck as he took the next few minutes to put whatever it was in the back seat before you both took off. 

You ride passenger for about thirty minutes or so with soft tunes of George Strait playing in the background before you hear gravel crunch under the tires of the truck as Joel turns left. 

“You aren’t exploring a new kink right now, are you?” You snort, turning your head in his general direction. “Blindfolding me like this just to take me in the middle of nowhere and have deliciously rough sex with me and make me fall in love with you even more, hm? Is this your diabolical plan?” You can’t help but wiggle your eyebrows at your own absolute absurdness. 

He chuckles deeply and you can practically feel him rolling his eyes at you as the brakes squeak slightly and the truck comes to a slow stop. It’s silent for a moment before you hear him move, and you feel the heat of his body right next to you. 

“Not today, sweet girl.” The deep raspiness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. He huffs a laugh before kissing your cheek and taking off your blindfold. 

You blink a few times as your eyes adjust to the light, the sun shining brilliantly on land—lots of it. Something shimmers in the distance, and you realize it’s a creek that runs along a trail that looks like it’s meant for horseback riding. 

Then it clicks. You look at him with pure excitement in your eyes. 

“Are we going horseback riding?” 

He can’t help but grin at the giddiness in your tone. “Yeah baby, we are. Figured we’d eat first, though. Packed us some of our favorites and thought we could make a picnic of it as we sit by the creek.” 

Your heart absolutely flutters and grows ten times fonder for the man in front of you, if that’s even possible. You try to hold back your tears of gratitude, but one can’t help it and slips down your cheek. 

Joel wipes the tear with his thumb as he leans in to kiss your forehead. 

You grab his face gently in your hands before admiring his beautiful brown irises. 

“Oh, Joel,” you choke out, leaning in for a loving kiss. You rest your forehead against his as you sniffle once. “This is so thoughtful. This place is beautiful. Thank you.” 

“‘Course, my honeybee. Life has been too hectic lately n’ I wanted to treat my woman to somethin’ a little more… relaxing.” 

“What a lucky lady she is,” you giggle, smiling against his lips and giving them one more peck before you pull away. He opens his door and hops out of the truck, jogging over to your side to open your door before offering his hand to you. You take his hand and he helps you out, feet hitting the ground with a thud. 

You both gather the stuff for the picnic before making your way over to the creek that was no more than a hundred yards away. 

You set up the blanket on some soft grass as Joel puts the cooler down beside you both, and you sit down across from each other. You admire the atmosphere, with the sun beaming enough to warm you up some and the song of birds chirping in the trees. The sound of water flowing up the creek adds to the blissful ambience, and you sigh in content before noticing a house off in the distance. 

“Does someone live over here?” You ask, stretching your legs in front of you as you lean back on your palms to hold yourself upright. 

“This is actually my uncle’s land. Tommy n’ I grew up playin’ in these fields and this creek. We’d used to help him on the ranch to earn some extra allowance durin’ the summertime when we got older.” 

You imagine a little Joel and Tommy running around in these fields whose grass sways with the gentle breeze—and then you’re picturing kids of your own. Kids that you’d eventually have with Joel. Hearing their little squeals of joy, chasing them around in the soft grass, making new memories for years to come. You imagine Sarah would be the best big sister, despite any age difference they might have. 

“This place is beautiful, Joel. Does your uncle still own the land?” You ask, eyes shifting back to him. 

He nods. “He does, but he’s had to hire help since he’s a bit too old to take care of the place himself. I know for a while he’d been thinkin’ about sellin’ it, but he says there’s just too many fond memories tied to this place.” 

“That’s understandable. I can just imagine a young you and Tommy causing a ruckus around here,” you laugh, and he nudges your leg with his own. 

“Don’t mean our mama and pops didn’t talk some sense into us,” he chuckles, face tilting toward the bright blue sky. 

“Looks like it did you two some good. They’d be proud of you both, I’m sure. Wish I could’ve met them.” You give him a sympathetic smile, and he gives you a small sad one in return. 

“They would’ve absolutely loved you, baby. I can just hear my mama now: ‘Bout damn time you wanna get settled down with someone nice,’” he sighs and reaches for you, and you maneuver yourself onto his lap. You rest your head against his chest as he wraps his arms around you, giving you a small squeeze while kissing your hair. 

“She sounds like a lovely woman,” you say, nuzzling into his strong chest. 

“She was. I’m very lucky to have had parents that gave my brother n’ I a great example of what true love really looks like, whether it was through their relationship with each other or the love they showered us with. I knew even back then that what Sarah’s mom n’ I had wasn’t true love. It was staying together out of convenience because she’d gotten pregnant. I really tried with her, but nothing made her happy. She became verbally abusive toward me after a while, too. It got even worse after Sarah was born. She didn’t want to be a mother. After everythin’ her and I went through, even after she left us, I’m grateful for her bringin’ my daughter into this world. I love my baby girl more than life itself,” he sighs, taking a breath for a minute as he recounts his past. 

“Raisin’ Sarah as a single dad truly was full of trials and tribulations. I did have help from my family, which I’ll always be grateful for, but I was doin’ it all on my own for the most part. Havin’ the odd schedule I have now and makin’ it work around Sarah’s took a long while, but we finally got it down. Nobody had ever wanted to stick around after a night together because they thought that me havin’ a kid was too… complicated. I can understand it from their perspective, but truthfully, nobody ever gave me a chance to get to show them the real me. They just saw me as someone they can check off their bucket list and mess around with because of my job and the uniform I wear. And then you come along, unexpected, knockin’ me off my feet in the best way possible and showin’ me that love is still in the cards for me. You’re it for me, baby. I don’t think I can ever express my gratitude to you for showin’ me what it feels like to be seen and—god—to be loved the way you love me.” 

You soak his words in before wrapping your arms around his torso. You press a kiss to his stubbled jaw, letting him silently know that you’re here for him. 

“Thank you for opening up to me,” you murmur, tracing your fingers over his back in a soothing motion. “I can’t even imagine what that was like. I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that.” Your voice holds a gratefulness and sadness that isn’t missed, and he shakes his head. 

“Thank you for allowin’ me to be my true self, emotions and all,” he says, and you hug him tighter. You recall him telling you that his ex would tell him ‘real men don’t cry’, and your heart hurts for him even more. How could somebody be so cruel to such a loving man? 

He sighs and lays down, sun glistening against his beautiful golden skin. You admire his handsome features and softly smile as you bring a hand down to run through his curls. 

He pops one eye open before giving your wrist a tug, and you land on him with an oof. 

He chuckles and wraps his arms around you, trailing his fingers down so he can put both of his hands in the back pockets of your Wranglers. 

“I love you so much, baby.” His voice is thick and low, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. 

“I love you too.” 

The easiness of which the phrase rolls off your tongue is a beautiful thing, you think. You’ve come so far with opening up your heart to Joel, and he, you. You look down at him and savor the way his eyes look like a smooth whiskey in the sunlight, the way the skin around them crinkles when he smiles at you. 

You lean down and finally seal your lips to his, and you feel him fully relax as he moves his hands from your back pockets up to the middle of your back and back down again. You stay like this for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of each other as the soft breeze causes the grass to rustle and the sound of water and lips smacking is a harmony lost in the wind. 

It isn’t until you hear his stomach rumble that you pull apart from him with a laugh, maneuvering yourself off of him to sit up. 

“Sounds like someone’s hungry,” you tease, reaching for the cooler. 

“I’m hungry alright,” he says, leaning over to capture your lips in yet another searing kiss. 

“I’m serious Joel,” you laugh against his lips. “You gotta eat.” 

He sighs and puts his hands up in defeat. “Fine.”

You nudge him with a grin before opening the cooler, revealing sandwiches, grapes, chips, waters, two soda cans, and… chocolate covered strawberries. You raise an eyebrow at him as he smiles sheepishly at you. 

“Chocolate covered strawberries?” You parrot your thoughts, moving to sit criss-crossed. 

“I know how much you like them so… I made ‘em for you special.” 

If your heart could burst anymore, this man would probably be the end of you with his unconditional love. You don’t know how much more you can possibly handle, even though you know you’re going to spend the rest of your life with him. It’s the little things like this that he goes out of his way to do for you that has never been done by anyone, so getting used to his kind gestures has been a rewarding challenge. 

“Thank you, honey. This is so kind of you.” You lean over to kiss his cheek before handing his food to him, and you both dive into your meals as you enjoy the serenity surrounding you. Then a pressing thought pops into your head. It takes you a few minutes to conjure up the courage to ask Joel the burning question on your mind, but you eventually find the words. 

“Are you serious about wanting kids with me, Joel?” Your voice is soft as you look around again, then meet his gaze. 

He swallows his food before nodding. “I’m one hundred percent serious.” 

Your heart flutters. “You don’t think the age gap between Sarah and her future siblings would be weird?” 

Joel thinks about it for a moment. “No, I wouldn’t say weird. Might just take some time t’get used to. Ever since she was a toddler she’d been beggin’ me to give her a sibling, but I obviously couldn’t do that considerin’ I didn’t have anyone to… procreate with,” he chuckles at the last part. You laugh with him and nod, swallowing the last bite of your sandwich. 

“I couldn’t imagine growing up without my siblings. Even when there were times we all fought, we all still laughed about it later on and got over it quickly. Bless my mom and dad’s hearts, ‘cus I know we were all a handful.” 

You smile as you reminisce growing up with your brothers and sister. You’d want your future kids to have that type of sibling bond, too. 

“I know what you mean. I remember when my mama and pops told me they were havin’ another baby. I was over the moon about it, ‘cus it meant I’d have someone by my side for life. Tommy might be a grade A pain in my ass, but I’m grateful that he and I grew up so close together and stayed that way throughout adulthood.” 

“I think Sarah would be a great big sister,” you say, and Joel sports a proud smile that makes your heart melt. 

“I think so too, baby.” 

“I never thought I’d be talking about having kids with a partner ever again, you know. I’m happy we’re on the same page about this. I think it’s important to discuss this even before we eventually decide to take the next step in our relationship.” 

He nods in agreement as he opens the tupperware that has the chocolate covered strawberries, taking one out before bringing his other hand to coax your mouth open. He offers you a bite of the strawberry, and he finishes off the rest of it after you take your bite. 

“I’m happy too, baby. ‘S good that we can clarify things now. I’ve never been with someone who can communicate with me so easily, so I thank you for that. I really am just a lucky bastard who got hit on at a coffee shop,” he chuckles, shooting you a wink as you laugh. 

“Thanks for taking a chance on me, Miller. Glad I didn’t disappoint.” And with that, you lean in for one last searing kiss before you both finish off the strawberries and dust yourselves off as you take the cooler and blanket back to his truck. 

You’re about to head for the stables in the distance, but Joel stops you. 

“Wait, I have somethin’ for you,” he says, reaching further into his back seat. He pops his Stetson on and you bite your lip before shooting him a look. 

“Haven’t we already established that you in your cowboy hat drives me absolutely wild?” You cross your arms over your chest as you continue to stare at him incredulously.

“Yeah, baby,” he laughs. “But now you get to match me.” 

He pulls out another hat and spins around, plopping it onto your head. Your eyes also drift down as he hands you a shoebox. 

“Joel, oh my– is this–?” You’re at a loss for words, and he sports a smirk on his face. 

“Open the box, sweet girl.” 

You do as you’re told, carefully opening the box to reveal a beautiful pair of brown leather cowgirl boots with white floral stitching across the front. 

“Joel, these are beautiful. Thank you so much.” 

“Ain’t a thing, baby. Try ‘em on.” 

You slip off your sneakers and try on the boots, which fit perfectly. Joel adjusts the hat on your head before giving you his million dollar smile. 

“Beautiful.”

“You think so, cowboy?” 

“Absolutely. And y’know,” he pauses as he slides his hands comfortably on your hips, pulling you flush against his body. “Every cowboy needs his cowgirl.” 

He gives you a twirl before dipping you, leaning down to kiss you before standing you upright. 

You’re all smiles and giggles as you walk hand-in-hand to the stables, where one of the ranch workers greets you both with a smile. 

“Hey Joel, you’ll be ridin’ Stella and Shimmer today,” the man says. Joel gives him a curt nod as the corner of his mouth twitches up into a half smile. 

“Thank you, Drew.” 

Drew tips his hat to you both before walking off to tend to the other animals near the stables, and you turn toward Shimmer as you begin to gently pet her. 

“Hi beautiful girl,” you coo, stroking her snout. She nudges you gently and you grin before glancing at Joel. 

“She likes you,” he says. 

You beam at him before he chuckles and comes behind you, boosting you by your waist as you situate yourself on the saddle on Shimmer’s back. You continue to stroke her mane as you place your feet in the stirrups, grabbing a firm hold of the reins. 

Joel follows suit as he mounts himself onto Stella, and clicks his teeth twice to lead the way out of the stables. Shimmer follows suit, and soon enough, you’re both riding side-by-side on the trail by the creek. 

“Thank you for all of this,” you gesture your hand around you both before grabbing back onto the reins. “It means a lot to me. I had a lot of fun.” 

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice hopeful. 

“Yeah. It’s been absolutely perfect.” 

You take a moment to admire him and how the sun’s golden rays shine on him as it slowly starts to set, casting a beautiful orange and pink glow in lieu of bright blue. He gazes at you with such a softness you’ve never witnessed before, and you think it’s a thing beyond love. Devotion, compassion, protection—all in a single look. 

A look that has taken care of your heart when it was tender and aching, a look that has pumped it full of love again. It’s a look that flips your world around in the best way possible.

It’s a look that could make you cry. It’s funny, because you never used to be so in-tune with your emotions before. Before Joel, a majority of your life with and after Christian had you feeling so numb and devoid of any feelings or emotions. It was draining, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to feel so lively ever again. 

Well, never say never. 

There are no words to describe the love and gratefulness you feel for this man riding beside you, but you know you’re going to spend the rest of your life proving it to him, even if it’s wordlessly done so. 

-

A few months down the line, the ranch ends up becoming a small escape for you and Joel. When you both had free time, you’d slip away and drive to the open fields to enjoy the calmness of the water under the starry nights, laid up in the bed of his truck on top of a bunch of blankets. 

It’s the only house around for miles, so it’s super private and quiet. It’s like your own little secret with him as you’d lay there, talking about anything and everything—and sometimes leading to more. 

You’re in the middle of more, trying to muffle your moans with Joel’s mouth on yours as his fingers curl inside of you. You’re aching and needy, rocking your hips against his palm so your swollen clit rubs against his flesh. It’s intoxicating, the way his fingers move so perfectly inside of you. 

You gasp against his lips as a dark chuckle rumbles in his chest. 

“Thas’ it. Atta girl, jus’ like that,” he murmurs his praise as you rock your hips so willingly and meet every thrust of his fingers, so close to your release that your whines start to mesh with your panting. “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

You fist his hair between your fingers and smash your lips to his in urgency, crying against him as a wave of toe-curling bliss surges through your veins.

”Oh, fuck!” 

You gush around his fingers and down his wrist, and he lowly hums as your body convulses a few more times, stomach drawing taut as you come down from your high. 

“Make such pretty messes, baby. So fuckin’ beautiful.” He kisses your forehead as he withdraws his fingers slowly, sweeping them over your sensitive clit to spread your arousal before bringing his fingers up to his mouth to suck them clean. You clench around nothing at the sight as your head falls back against the makeshift pillows, gaze bleary as you try and slow your breathing and heart rate by staring at the stars twinkling so brilliantly. 

Joel dips his head down to kiss you, and you tangle your fingers through his curls once more before dragging a hand down his neck, to his chest, and down to the waistband of his sweats. You palm him through the material, arousal blooming in your core once more as you feel how hard he is for you. Feel how much he wants you.

You stop your ministrations for a beat, separating yourself from his lips as you lick the palm of your hand, only to dip it into his sweats and boxers to wrap it around his length. You give him a small squeeze and he groans, eyes fluttering shut as his head tilts back. 

You huff a laugh and lean up to kiss at his thick, warm neck, licking a stripe from his earlobe down to his pulse point. You suck a little on the skin there, loving the way he twitches in your hand. He feels so heavy and warm, and all you want to do in this moment is take care of him the way he deserves—so you do just that. You slide your body down after giving him a kiss, and the dazzling look in his eye is all you need to keep this going. 

You settle your shoulders between his thighs, now face-to-face with his weeping cock. You hum before giving the silky flesh a few more tugs before leaning forward, licking the salty bead of pre cum from his slit. 

“Such a pretty cock,” you praise, rolling your lips into your mouth before you look up at him. He doesn’t say anything, but you can see the flush that has taken over his neck and face in the pale moonlight. His lips are parted and his breathing is a bit ragged, and he’s just waiting for you to pounce. 

Usually, you love to tease him just to see how worked up you can get him, but you’re too impatient and want to hear those delicious moans only reserved for you. 

You lick a long, wet stripe on the underside of his cock before sucking his balls into your mouth, pumping his length as you gently massage him with your tongue. 

“Oh, fuck me,” he groans, hand shooting out to cradle the back of your head. You hum appreciatively around him, pumping him at a steady pace now before moving your mouth up onto his shaft again. You swirl your tongue around his tip a few times before taking him all, feeling his head hit the back of your throat. Tears prick your eyes as you try to swallow around him and refrain from gagging. 

“Holy fuck, baby, you like doin’ this don’t you?” His voice is a deep, raspy mess, and you clench your thighs together at the sound. 

He pulls your mouth off of him, the tip of his cock coating your lips in saliva. 

“Answer me. You like this, huh?” 

Fuck. The possessiveness in his tone makes you want to roll your eyes into the back of your skull as you moan, but you opt for a nod as you rasp out a yes. 

“Look so pretty with my cock down your throat. Can fuckin’ see it when you take all of me.” 

You suck in a sharp breath before your dazed, fucked out mind conjures up the words before you even realize it. “Like this?” 

You lower your mouth back onto him, and he’s spewing a string of groans and curses together, and he eventually moans your name like a prayer on Sunday when you keep deepthroating him like this. You don’t let up, either. You know your throat is going to be absolutely fucking wrecked by the time you’re done, but it doesn’t matter. 

Not when you get to see him like this. 

He sucks in a breath through his teeth as you let up on his length and just focus your tongue and lips on his tip, making his hips buck up involuntarily. His fiery gaze meets yours and you can tell he’s nearly a goner. 

“So…fuckin’...sexy,” he grunts. You grin as you kiss his tip and flutter your eyelashes up at him, taking him in your mouth and down your throat one more time before slowly coming back up, tightening your lips around him. 

“Fuck, baby, ‘m gonna–” 

He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence before he’s coming undone, coating your tongue and throat with his cum. His body shudders as you slide your tongue up from his length. You swallow and wipe the saliva off of your chin with the back of your hand. 

“You really are somethin’ fierce, woman,” he praises. You’re too dazed to respond, so you offer him a grin and a kiss to his thigh. 

Joel tucks himself back into his boxers and pulls his sweats up, pulling your body up to his so you’re cuddled into his side. He pulls a blanket over both your bodies and kisses you, and you nuzzle your head onto his chest. His steady breathing and strong heartbeat is what does you in before you even know it. 

You wake up in a bit of confusion, amidst hearing a constant buzzing noise. You’re still in the back of the truck with Joel, who’s passed out beside you. His breathing is steady and he looks so at peace, so you try not to move around so much before you finally realize that Joel’s phone is ringing. 

You have to dig around a bit to find it before you lift it up and squint against the bright light, only to see he has three missed calls from Tommy. Your heart drops, because Tommy is a huge texter. He only ever calls if something’s really wrong. 

“Joel,” you rasp, throat sore from your earlier escapades. His brow furrows and he softly groans, and you softly tap his shoulder. “Baby, wake up. Tommy keeps calling you.” 

His eyes crack open and he sits up, grabbing the phone from you. He dials Tommy back and presses the phone to his ear, still clearly trying to wake his mind up. 

You can’t ignore the anxious thrum of your heart. You have no idea what it could be about, and Joel’s face reads worry clear as day. You wrap your arm around him and kiss his shoulder in reassurance. 

“Tommy, what’s going on?” Joel asks, and you can faintly hear Tommy’s voice on the other end of the line, but can’t make out the words. 

“Shit, okay. I’ll be back at the house in 30 minutes.” 

Joel hangs up the phone and scrubs his hands over his face before looking down at you. He gives you an apologetic smile before leaning down to kiss your forehead. 

“Sorry honeybee, we have to go back home. Our captain wants everyone at the fire station in an hour. Somethin’ important he needs to tell us all.” 

You furrow your brows and sit up, starting to fold the blankets and pack them away in the cab of the truck. You ride in silence for about fifteen minutes, your hand on Joel’s as his sits comfortably on your thigh. His thumb brushes back and forth in reassurance, but your mind is reeling with possibilities of what could be so important for all of them to know. 

“Do you have any idea what your captain might say?” 

Your voice is soft with a sleepy lull to it, and Joel looks at you for a couple of seconds with a small smile on his lips. 

“No idea, baby. It has to be somethin’ big ‘cus he only calls us in like this if it’s super urgent.” 

You nod in understanding, giving his hand a squeeze of reassurance. You arrive home fifteen minutes later, and Tommy greets you both at the front door. You give Tommy a hi/bye hug and Joel a kiss before they’re out the door and driving down the street. 

You decide to stay in the living room. Watch a movie or something, and wait for them to come back. You settle onto the leather couch, wrapping a blanket around you as you turn the TV on and keep it at a low volume. Exhaustion sweeps through your bones as you lay still. Your eyelids get heavy, and before you even realize it, you’re out cold once again. 

-

The front door unlocking stirs you from your sleep, and the familiar tread of boots is heard walking into the living room. 

“Baby, I’m back,” Joel says. 

You open your eyes and yawn, gaze landing on the clock. Eleven p.m. 

“Hey,” you say, voice timid. “How’d the meeting go? Is everything okay?” 

You sit up, allowing room for Joel to plop down next to you. He spreads his legs and leans his head back against the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I have to leave. Well, Tommy and I have to go. There’s a huge fire that broke out in San Angelo earlier today and it’s spreading fast. They need all hands on deck.”

You take in the information and furrow your brows, pausing for a beat before speaking. “How long will you be gone for?” 

He moves his hand from the bridge of his nose and looks at you with a sad expression. 

“‘M not sure, sweet girl. Could be for a few days or a few weeks. It really just depends on the conditions of the fire and the surrounding areas.” 

You nod in understanding before grabbing his hand, once again squeezing it in reassurance. 

“When do you and Tommy leave?” 

“Tomorrow morning. Captain told us to rest up as much as possible before we head out. It doesn’t look pretty, and it’s a four hour drive for us.” 

“I think you should go wake Sarah up and tell her,” you say. He nods and kisses your head before he trudges up the stairs. You turn off the TV and follow suit, settling into your side of the bed after you wash up and change into your pajamas. 

Joel comes into the room a few minutes later, closing the door behind him. 

“How is she?” You ask, opening the covers for him. He strips down into just his boxers before climbing into bed with you.

He nods. “She’s okay. Sad that I have to leave, but I told her you’d take real good care of her.” 

You huff a laugh and nod in agreement. “That I will, Mr. Miller.” 

Then realization hits you—since Tommy is leaving, that means Maria will be alone. 

“Are you okay if I invite Maria to stay over here while you guys are gone? I know she can take care of herself, but I’d rather her not be alone for however long.” 

“‘Course, baby. ‘S your home, too.” 

And, it is, which is an aspect you’re still getting used to. 

He settles into you, nuzzling his face into your chest as he inhales deeply. He kisses the skin there once before wrapping his arms around you. You rest your head on top of his, running your fingers through his hair. He falls asleep in a matter of minutes, but you remain wide awake, plagued with the thought of him going out to do his very dangerous job.  

You sigh and scold yourself for even thinking about that, because even just the prospect of telling him to stay is so unbelievably selfish. You’d never actually tell him, of course, but you think it and the thought is all-consuming. 

You just worry, like any partner would, but you worry even more especially after the nasty accident he had. You know he’s been doing this for a long time, but you’ve learned that fires can be unpredictable and life doesn’t deal in absolutes. 

A couple of hours pass and Joel is still sound asleep, meanwhile you haven’t gotten a wink of rest. Your eyes roam to the bedside alarm clock—four fifty in the morning. You sigh softly and get up as carefully as possible, trying not to disturb Joel. 

Since you can’t go to sleep, you decide to use your energy to make Joel and Tommy some lunches and a few batches of your cookies that everyone at the firehouse loves so they have something to snack on while they’re on the road. 

You start with the cookies and make enough dough for at least three batches, trying to stay as quiet as possible. You hand mix everything and put the three baking sheets in the oven, setting a timer on your phone. While the cookies bake, you make both of their lunches and pack them away. 

You can’t stand still and need to keep your hands busy to distract yourself from your looming thoughts, so you go ahead and make a fresh pot of coffee, too. 

You pour yourself a cup and put a dash of creamer in it, taking a sip as you lean over the counter and sigh. You close your eyes and rub your temples in an attempt to ease your mind. 

You hear a door open upstairs and some shuffling down the steps soon after, and a sleepy Sarah emerges. 

She rubs her eyes as she gives you a small smile, making her way to the barstool that’s on the other side of the counter from you. 

“You’re up early,” you muse. 

“Couldn’t stay asleep,” she says, and she looks at the oven as she sees cookies baking. She raises an eyebrow. “I’m assuming you couldn’t sleep at all.” 

“You’ve got that right,” you huff a laugh, taking another sip of your coffee. 

“I don’t want him to go.” 

Her blunt confession takes you aback, but it gives you a bit of comfort knowing you and her are in the same boat. 

“I know, sweetheart.” You reach your hand out to cup hers, running your thumb back and forth over her knuckles. 

“I know he’s doing this for good. I just… I don't want to see him hurt again.”

You nod in understanding. “It’s a catch twenty-two.” 

She sighs, and you round the counter to bring her into a hug. 

“I know it’s not much of a distraction, but how about we go get a pedicure later on? Just to relax a little.” 

She nods against you before leaning back to meet your gaze. “I’d love that.” 

“Great. In the meantime, are you hungry? I can make you some waffles.” 

“Thank you, but I’m not super hungry right now…” she pauses, eyeing the oven. “I’d love one of your cookies, though.” 

You laugh and nod, your phone timer going off at the perfect moment. You take all three sheets out of the oven and set them down on racks, letting them cool down. You serve her one before starting to clean up, and that’s when you hear Joel’s heavy footsteps make their way downstairs. 

“Morning cowboy,” you tease, pouring his cup of coffee as he stares at you two in confusion. 

“Mornin’…you’re both up early.” He makes his way to Sarah and kisses her hair before moving to you, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. You hand him his cup of coffee and he wraps his arm around you and gives you a gentle squeeze. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, taking a sip. 

“What time do you and Uncle Tommy need to be at the station?” Sarah asks, biting into her cookie. 

Joel’s eyes glance at the clock on the stove. “Around nine.” 

It’s silent for a moment, and Joel looks back and forth between you both. 

“Y’all still haven’t told me why you’re both up so early.” He raises an eyebrow, looking to you for an answer. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrug. 

“At all?” 

“No. I laid there for a couple of hours before I got up to make you and Tommy some lunch and a few batches of cookies for the crew while you’re on the road.” 

Joel’s eyebrows tug together. He sets his cup of coffee down, circling his arms around your waist. He holds his arm out, silently coaxing Sarah to join in. She hops down from the stool and hugs you both, and you nuzzle into them both. You all stand there for a good minute before Joel is giving you both a squeeze and kisses your heads. 

It’s like the sense of dread and anxiety hung in the air, and he clocked in almost immediately. 

Not much gets past him—you’ll give him that.

“I love you both very much. I’ll be alright,” he says. “I promise to check in every day when I can, okay?” 

His comforting embrace and reassuring words warm your heart. 

You all untangle yourselves from the embrace, and you give him a soft smile. 

“We love you too, Joel. We just worry for your safety.” 

“I know baby, I know. Believe me when I say there’s nothin’ I’d rather do than stay at home with you both, but this is an all hands on deck situation.” 

“We’d never ask you to stay, dad. We know this is part of your job and it’s important that you’re there,” Sarah says, pausing as a tremble overtakes her bottom lip. She wraps her arms around him, voice broken and soft when she speaks next. “Just be careful, okay?” 

You can see a flash of emotion in Joel’s eyes as he hugs her back, leaning his cheek on top of her head. 

“I will, babygirl. I swear to you.” 

-

You’re standing in a small group in the fire station, getting ready to send Joel and Tommy off with the rest of their crew. You’re having a conversation with them two, Maria and Sarah when one of their coworkers—Mark, you think—walks up to you, holding up the bag of cookies. 

“I just have to say thank you for these. They’re the firehouse favorite.” 

You grin and shrug. “Not a problem. Just a small thank you for everything you guys do.” 

He smiles at you and looks at Joel. “She’s a keeper, Miller.” 

Joel wraps his arm around your shoulder and kisses your temple. “I know. I’m a lucky, lucky man.” 

“Alright, it’s time to head out,” their Captain calls. 

You sigh and turn toward Joel. You offer him a small smile as your heart clenches with anxiety, but your expression never wavers. 

Sarah gives Joel a tight hug, expression still a bit sullen. You can tell she’s trying her best to hide it, but it slips through and it’s a look you recognize all too well. You give her shoulders a squeeze of reassurance 

He has that look in his eyes. The one where it’s filled with worry, with anxiousness. The same look that’s probably in yours, too.

You want to lighten the mood, so you tug him flush against your body by pulling the leather strap of his radio holster that sits across his chest. He laughs as his hands land on your waist, and you push your lips to his. 

You separate from him after a few seconds, smiling softly against his lips before you pull apart just enough to see those beautiful, worried brown eyes. 

“Be careful out there, cowboy. I love you.” 

He squeezes your hips. “I will, baby. I love you too.” 

He leans down to give you one more peck on the lips before he moves to say goodbye to Maria. You do the same to Tommy, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a soft little peck on the cheek. 

“Take care of each other, yeah? Life’s a lot more fun when you’re both here with us, unharmed.” You look between Joel and Tommy with a sternness they’ve never seen before. 

Tommy’s eyes crinkle as he smiles at you, his dimple showing up along with a flash of white teeth. 

“You got it, boss.”

He salutes you, and you sidle up beside Sarah and Maria as you wave them both goodbye. They climb into the same truck, and they’re on their way to San Angelo. 

-

Two weeks have passed, and Joel still isn’t home. He keeps his promise on checking in every day when he can, sometimes shorter conversations than others, but you’re grateful nonetheless. 

Today, your siblings all agreed that a lunch was much needed between you four so you could all catch up. It was the perfect distraction, and with Sarah at school and Maria at work, you agree immediately. It’s so odd being in an empty house when you’re not on the clock, and since you’d finished with your clients early, you had the rest of the day to yourself. 

You meet up with them at a local diner, slipping into the booth next to Emily. She has a small belly now, and you lean down to air kiss it before greeting her, Andy and Cole. 

“I’m so glad we got to do this,” Emily says, and you all nod in agreement. 

“I know. It’s been awhile since I’ve harassed you guys,” Andy jokes. You roll your eyes and throw your crumbled up straw wrapper at him. 

“So how goes it?” Cole asks, leaning back in the booth. The young waitress stops by your table to take your orders before collecting the menus, and Emily starts. 

“Things have been great, actually. Baby boy is healthy and Josh got promoted at work.” She runs a hand over her belly, and your eyes light up. 

“I’m so happy for you, Emi. How does Josh like the promotion?” 

“It’s great, really. He gets more time off now, especially to come with me to my appointments, and he got a pretty significant increase in his salary.” 

“That’s so good. I still can’t believe you’re having a kid. My nephew is gonna be a little stud with the coolest uncles,” Andy says. 

“What am I, chopped liver?” You laugh, rolling your eyes. 

“You’re only semi-cool. You’re with a cool guy, though, so I guess that raises your points.” 

“God, you men are so fucking weird with your logic sometimes.”

“Yeah yeah,” Andy waves your words away, before his expression gets a bit more serious. “How is he though? How’s Tommy?” 

“They’re okay. They’re exhausted, though. The fire had spread rapidly because of the winds, and they’re still in the process of containment, but I think it’s almost at one hundred percent.” 

“Fuck. I can’t even imagine. We had a pretty dry winter too, which probably didn’t help much,” Cole says. You shake your head and gnaw on your lip, deciding to change the subject for your own sanity. Emily senses it, because your sister knows you like the back of her hand, and she finds your hand folded in your lap and gives it a reassuring squeeze. You squeeze right back.

“So what’s been going on with you two? Anything new?” You look between your brothers, and the waitress drops off your food before they can say anything. 

Cole’s eyes avert to the basket of fries in front of him, and you raise an eyebrow as you watch him carefully. He finally opens his mouth to speak, but snaps it shut when Andy starts to talk. 

“Not much. Work is good. Can’t complain.” Andy shrugs his shoulders and takes a bite of his burger, and you nod before looking back to Cole. You nudge his foot under the table and his gaze snaps up to yours, and you give him an encouraging smile. 

“That’s good, Andy,” Emily says. 

“I, uh, I met someone,” Cole starts. Everyone’s eyes shift to him, and he sports a small smile. “It’s still pretty new, though, so that’s why I haven’t mentioned it before.” 

“Hell yeah, brother. Happy for you,” Andy claps Cole’s shoulder and he smiles. 

“Where did you meet?” You ask, popping a fry into your mouth. 

“Met her at the bar we went to a few months back. Finally bucked up and asked her on a date a couple of weeks ago, and it’s been going good ever since.” 

Although Cole seems to exude confidence, you know he’s more on the shy side when it comes to romance. You and him have always been the shy kids, while Andrew and Emily were outgoing and bubbly. When Emily first told you to put yourself out there with Joel, the shy shell of a woman you used to be went into fight or flight mode—but she ultimately ended up being right. 

You can hear it now: That’s what big sisters are for.

You’re grateful you and your siblings are all close in age. Although you’ve all fought over stupid, miniscule things that seemed like the whole world when you were younger, you all ended up being very close, which is something you’ll never take for granted. 

“That’s great, Cole. I hope we can meet her when you’re comfortable enough to bring her around our crazy family,” Emily laughs, and you all chime in and chuckle along. 

“I think Josh and Joel can attest to that,” you say. “I told him he could’ve run for the hills before Emi’s wedding, but that man stuck by my side and told me he wanted to meet all of you.” 

“Now that—” Cole swallows his bite of food, “—Is a real man.” 

“And look at how happy he’s made you. I love seeing you together, especially after everything you’ve been through,” Emily says. 

Andy’s face turns sour, frowning at the vague mention of your ex. “If I ever see him in person again I won’t hesitate to deck him in the face.” 

You didn’t have to question who he was. You already knew. “Get in line, Andy. Joel has first dibs.” 

The corner of his mouth lifts up in amusement before he reaches out to you, palm upward, making a ‘give me’ motion with his fingers.

“Give me my ticket.” 

You laugh and push his hand away, and lighter conversation ensues the rest of lunch. 

The waitress drops the check off at the table, and you mumble that you’ll Zelle whoever pays as the other three fight over the check. Your phone rings and you pull it out of your pocket to see who it is.

Your eyebrows furrow as you see your attorney’s name across the screen of your phone. You slide the answer button over and cover your other ear so you can hear him better. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey! Long time no talk. I have some good news,” he says. 

“Hey, yeah, how are you? What’s the news?” 

“I’m good, but even better now—apparently whoever hit you in your accident was some big wig’s kid, and the parents want to pay you out a big amount for your car and, as they said, ‘any emotional damage caused by this accident’.” 

“Oh fuck,” you say. You rub your forehead with your thumb and forefinger. “Sorry, sorry. Uh—how much?” 

In all honesty, you’d sort of forgotten about your accident because so much has happened in your life since that day. You smile fondly at the memory of Joel kissing you in the back of that ambulance, within only hours of knowing each other at that point. 

You had no idea that it would’ve led to this. A good life with an even greater man. 

“They sent out a check to your house, but I think it’s in the hundred thousands range.” 

Your eyes bug out of your head and your jaw drops. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

Your siblings all look at you in confusion, but you still can’t wipe the look of shock off of your face. 

Your attorney laughs at your initial reaction, but you’re still in utter disbelief. 

You can’t even fathom that kind of money, but you’re sure your attorney is used to those kinds of numbers. 

“Yeah, so keep a lookout for a check in the mail,” he says. 

“Um, yeah, will do. Thanks for giving me a call.” 

“Of course. I’ll touch base with you if anything else comes up.”

You say goodbye and hang up, and you meet your siblings’ gazes. 

And, with a small smile, you pluck the bill from Andy’s hands. “Actually, lunch is on me today.”

-

You almost fall over when you open the envelope with your check in it. 

Half a million dollars. You don’t know who the hell this kid’s parents are, but writing a check for five hundred thousand is fucking insane. 

You stare at the numbers in disbelief as you sit at the edge of the bed, sun casting its brilliant golden glow across the paper in your hands. The paper that reads half a million fucking dollars. It’s like a jackpot lighting up in Vegas or something.

You don’t know how long you stare, but if you did any longer, your eyes would burn holes in the paper. You slide the check back in the envelope and put it in your underwear drawer underneath your sports bras, because you honestly just can’t believe that it’s real. 

And later that night, when Joel FaceTimes everyone to say hi and check in, you don’t say a word about it. 

It’s not that you want to keep it from him, but you have an idea of what you’d like to do with a portion of the money, and you’d rather keep that idea a surprise for the time being. 

You trudge upstairs once more after Maria and Sarah say goodnight to Joel and Tommy, but Joel tells you to stay on the phone. He watches you do your night routine before you slip into an old oversized Texas A&M sweatshirt of his, sliding into bed. 

“I miss my woman somethin’ awful,” his deep voice rings through the phone. You look at the screen and sigh, a small smile settling onto your lips. He looks so exhausted, and all you want is for him to be safe at home again. By your side in bed. 

“I miss you too, handsome. How’s it looking out there?” 

He groans as he settles onto a bed himself folding an arm to lay his hand behind his head. 

“‘S kickin’ our asses. Embers from the original fire sparked a new one. It’s smaller, but these winds ain’t helping a damn thing.” 

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry to hear that,” you say, gnawing on your lip as your eyebrows furrow in worry. “I feel awful that I can’t do anything to help.” 

“There is one thing,” he says. You recognize the tone in his voice—want. 

“What’s on your mind, Mr. Miller?”  

“You wearin’ my old sweatshirt?” He asks. 

You purse your lips and nod, watching how his expression turns lustful and determined in the confines of his temporary bedroom. 

“Wearing it ‘cus it smells like you,” you confess. 

A groan rips from his throat and scrapes low in your belly, and your eyes flutter shut as you feel slick already beginning to pool from the heat between your legs. 

“Are we really gonna do this?” You huff a laugh, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“I was a touch-starved man before I met you, baby. Then you go n’ spoil me with your pretty hands that can’t seem to keep to themselves.” 

“You could always tell me to stop, you know,” you purr. There’s some shuffling on the other end, and you see his heavy lidded eyes gaze at you. 

“I’d be insane to do so, darlin’.” 

“Would you?” 

He moans softly, and you realize he’s probably rubbing himself up. God, you wish that was your hand. 

“Mhm. Love when your hands are all over me, especially wrapped around my dick.” 

You can’t help but giggle, and a ghost of a smile curls at the corner of his lips. 

“Love that sound, too,” he adds. 

“You know what I love?” Your voice is teetering on the edge of a seductive whisper. 

“Hm?” 

“I love when my big, strong hunk of a man makes me feel so loved and protected. Allows me to delve into my femininity. Uses his strong hands and thick fingers to make me see stars.” 

You realize you’re probably babbling at this point, but your words seem to do the job just fine. Joel’s eyebrows pinch together and that all-too familiar muscle in his jaw ticks wildly. 

“Turn the camera around, Joel. Show me.” 

He doesn’t hesitate to flip the camera around to face the impressive outline of his cock in the gray sweats he’s wearing. Your thighs clench together at the sight, imagining what it’d be like to grind on him until he came undone. Hear his moans and strings of curses as he reaches his peak. 

“Fuck, honey,” you whine. 

“This is what you do t’me, baby.”

His voice almost sounds pained, but you know it’s because he’s held in so much tension the past couple of weeks with no way to release it. You’d do anything to distract his mind from the exhaustion he feels and fires at hand, even if it’s for a brief few moments. 

You decide to be a little raunchy, because fuck, you’re already in this position, and you want to be a good distraction—again—even if it’s brief. 

You make a show of yourself sliding your fingers down the valley of your breasts and down your stomach, wasting no time to reach your desired destination. You swipe your middle and ring finger through your slick folds, coating them in your arousal before you bring your fingers up to show the camera—to show Joel—how much he turns you on. 

You separate your fingers, and a string of your slick connects between the two. 

“This is what you do to me.” 

Joel all but growls at the sight, slipping his hand into his sweatpants to grab his aching cock. You can just imagine how warm and heavy it feels in his big palm, and you sigh at the thought. 

“Fuck, baby. Be a good girl n’ touch yourself for me.”

He’s breathless, but the sound sends shockwaves through your body as more slick gushes eagerly from your aching, needy center. 

You slip your two fingers in your mouth, humming around them as you taste the tangy-sweet flavor of yourself. 

“Shit,” he says, a moan scraping from his throat. You grin like the Cheshire Cat before slipping your fingers down again, alternating between rubbing your clit slowly and dipping your fingertips into your cunt. 

You flip the camera around to show him, and it sounds like he nearly whines from the sight. You suck in a breath as you stop teasing yourself, slipping the two fingers fully into yourself. You pump them languidly, and hearing Joel’s ragged breath and gasps on the other end of the line has you writhing. 

“You don’t know how bad I wish these were your fingers and not mine,” you gasp out, grinding your hips up into your palm. 

“Oh don’t worry baby,” he pants, “‘M gonna give you everythin’ you need n’ more when I come back.” 

“That a promise?” 

“Mmm—mhm.” 

He matches the stroke of his cock with the pump of your fingers then. 

“Can’t wait to be buried in that pretty little pussy. Take me so well. Fuckin’ made for me, baby. So fuckin’ tight n’ warm. ‘S like a dream,” he babbles, and you have to bite down on the collar of the sweatshirt to keep a moan ripping from your throat.

”Need your mouth all over me too, Joel,” you cry, “Love it when you let me cum by your tongue.” 

“Yeah? Next time I’ll have you usin’ my face as a fuckin’ seat. Hold you down so you have no choice but to cum in my mouth over n’ over again.” 

“Oh, god.” 

“You like that, huh? The thought of fuckin’ my face to get you off?” 

The words die on your tongue as you try to speak, but the pleasure that was once a low burn in your belly is now its own full-fledged sun. It’s so white hot and you’re on the edge, gripping the phone in your hand for dear life. 

“Answer me,” he growls. 

“Fuck, yes! Yes yes yes,” you whisper-cry, and you’re unraveling before him on camera. You soak your hand and undoubtedly the sheets beneath you, but that’s a tomorrow problem. Your body convulses a few times and you moan as you see the white spurts of cum land on his stomach. He moans your name like a prayer on Sunday, and it makes you shiver with seemingly untamable arousal. 

He breathes heavily before grabbing a tissue to clean himself up, tucking himself back into his sweats before he flips the camera back around to his face. 

His cheeks and neck are flushed, and you can see the sweat on his forehead as he tries to steady out his breathing. You stretch and roll over on your side, laying your head on his pillow to inhale his scent. 

“I love you, my honeybee.”

You smile at the nickname and yawn, stretching your limbs one more time before curling in on yourself. 

“I love you too, cowboy. I can’t wait ‘til you’re next to me in bed again.” 

“I can’t wait either, darlin’. I hope this is all over with soon n’ I can love on you the way you deserve.” 

You grin sleepily at his words, post-coital drowsiness wrapping around your body like a weighted blanket. 

“Stay safe out there.” 

“I will. I promise.” 

And you’re fast asleep soon after you hang up. You dream blissfully of life with Joel in the fields by the ranch, of your future with him, of the memories you’ve yet to create. 

You dream of Joel happy and safe, not an ounce of the beautiful man troubled. 

But this is real life. This isn’t a fantasy where you can wish good things for people and it just magically happens at the snap of a finger, a rub of a lamp. 

His resolve was slowly crumbling. The weight of the world was sitting steady on his shoulders, breaking him down piece by piece. 

Each broken fragment of him, scattered and fragile, lay in your hands—

and this time, it was up to you to put him back together.

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[from-the-owls-nest]

mhm. what if you're too broken, in too tiny pieces, even the base too shattered to rebuild from. what if there's too little good left.

*swallow* that... that probably wasn't the most helpful answer. but I know what you mean. and I don't really have a fix or anything.

*drily, like, ironically* should probably clarify that the you in that first sentence meant me and just me. so. before you get any more ideas. because of course for Me that's Different! At least for my chaos brain tangles.

[ooc: Philosophy Below. idk brain ran away with thoughts call me if u find it /silly]

*silence, thinking over the words again* I don't know. All I can hope is that - that sentence from the movie Aria likes. When we can see no future, all we can do is the next right thing. the next little ray of sunlight. the next little moment of peace.

And if none of that is possible... Wait, and hold on, and look for them, and hope they come back soon. This is just my thoughts - my little agreement with myself. I gotta try the best I can, even if the best I can is a break from trying to recover. And then I'll know that Past Me did their best for me now and that I owe it to Future me to do my best for what they might become. Even if they weren't very successful. Like deciding that however I am right now is me too, and so I am all these things and parts, the good and the rough ones, and they all together make the full me. It's these nice little shortcut across the self blaming and infighting that take a long time to work out but help wherever they hold.

But like. I think I owe it my future self to hold on, and to get through the storms. Our past selves have come such a long way, and who knows where we'll go next, what our future selves and lives might be like. So like. I do think that new paths open up all the time, possibilities. Even if the ones now are all bad, who knows where we can still go. And the only way to find out is to try, and to do our best.

*they pull out their diary, and from the front a little calendar page* Look. I... It's one of these pages I'll keep forever and ever because I need the reminder, and give to others when they might need it. I don't know if it's right. I hope so. and I think the only way to find out is to try and hold on.

For me that's enough. That, little hopes, little good moments, even just the memory of warmth and hope and the knowledge that all that was once can come again - in different forms, maybe, but it can. *turning to lay it next to Will's sneaker*

*more silence* But. Well. That's really big thoughts, and hard to see when everything is so dark. Hm. okay just to throw some thoughts out. You don't have to tell me, you don't have to think about it, just... some ideas. Little windows into that maybe, whenever you're able to look.

what do the voices say? can they maybe be talked to, or be both a little right?

is there anything you wish wouldn't stop? or come back? any little thing. ignore realism and context all that. if you were playing make-believe, your own little world, what would it look like? if you want to we can take turns. I play that game regularly cause, well, bad memory, and i probably should start again.

and... does it have to be a *bad* hurt? like. yes. you're different. stuff happened, and it changed you, and that really really hurt. you might not be the same person as before. is that a bad thing? or, you said nasty. sure. right now it's raw and painful and doesnt fit yet. but... could all these little shards grow back together and become something scarred and mended, and different?

I hope they could. I'd really miss you - not you from before, you however you are right now and however you want to be. Idk doesn't make much sense but - people if they change are still that person, right? just... changed, by a situation or because they got to know themselves better or whatever. Like Butterflies. I'd like to see the next chapter, with you if you want or just knowing there was one for you.

Image Credit @thelatestkate and her website

Love love love characters that present themselves as emotionally open social butterflies but the more you see of them the more obvious it is that they’re the most closed off fuckers in the story. Sure, they want to help you with your personal problems and messy emotions, but if you turn that shit back on them, they’ll shut down or deflect every time. Why are you sticking your nose in their business anyway? It’s not like it matters. They’re not a person, they’re just a role being played. They’re the guy who fixes things and saves people. Please ignore the man behind the mask, he’s fine. Everything’s fine.

[softtdaisy]

your favorite brother / Aaron Hotchner

summary. you thought you would never deal with Hotchner brothers again. And here came Aaron. Arresting you. And making up for the arrest.

words count. 3,055

what to expect. mention of murder, mention of abuse, mention of Sean (guess it's important to say it) not a real smut because i'm still uncomfortable writing it but it's implied

a/n. this might be one of my favorite fic since i started writing again, i really took the time to do something sensual. and i'm trying to something new with the gif so??? i hope you will love it 🤍

F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

You’ve seen Aaron Hotchner more these past two days than the whole time you were dating Sean, his brother. 

It’s not like you didn’t try to back then. You always found it sad that both brothers weren’t in touch and didn’t seem close at all. Sean didn’t seem very fond of his brother, criticizing him a lot for many things that you didn’t even understand most of the time. You often thought that he was looking for excuses to blame Aaron for many things in his life that were not his fault. But it wasn’t your place to defend a man you never met. 

You only met Aaron once, in your ten months relationship with his brother.

You guessed he tried to do some effort by inviting him to Jack’s birthday that year. You almost didn’t come. It was the beginning of your relationship with Sean and you weren’t sure it was right to be there after months (years?) of the Hotchner’s brothers not seeing each other.

But Sean insisted. Saying he didn’t want to go alone in case they argue. So you were there. 

You remembered the first time you saw Aaron Hotchner.

He looked nothing like your boyfriend. Neither physically or mentally. Maybe that’s why it was harder to contain the immediate attraction you had for him.

Aaron had this dark masculine figure, so serious and imposing, yet with a little light coming from the happy look on his face that it was impossible to miss him. It was his son's birthday and Aaron was the center of attention.

You guessed the FBI outfit was different from the one he was wearing that day: a dark blue shirt that was revealing his biceps and veins and a dark jean that looked so good on his long legs. His hair was not styled, almost like he woke up a few minutes before you arrived.

And when he turned around to greet you, the smile that he gave you was easily one of the most beautiful ones you’ve ever seen. Sincere, genuine and glowing.

He was far from the gloomy figure that Sean described to you. You even wondered if he didn’t overstate that description to prevent you from falling for his brother. 

Funny coming from a confident man that never seems to fear losing his women.

As much as you tried to fight it, you ended up daydreaming about Aaron more than once that day. 

The way he bent over the table, talking to his coworkers, got you lost in your mind about being in this position too. With him.

The way he put a hand on your shoulder to thank you for being here got you thinking about the heat of his skin and how good it would feel elsewhere on your body.

Your brain even memorized his features so well that Aaron was even part of your dirty dream that night. You claimed it was the other Hotchner brother but you could never forget the feeling of the dark haired hands on your body. 

But the two brothers ended up fighting only a few days after Jack’s party and you put aside everything you remembered about Aaron right after. Not only because of the fight but because of the way Sean ended up treating you.

You never wanted to hear about the Hotchner brothers ever again.

And you could have easily gone with that state of mind for the rest of your life. If your coworker wasn’t killed in the elevator. 

Real problem.

You weren’t sure why the FBI got called on the case. Sure it was terrible and premeditated, you don’t kill someone on an elevator out of nowhere, not even after a bad day. And that man had a few complains against him for sexual harassment. It didn’t take two detectives to get the motive.

So when your boss told you that the FBI would work on the case, you didn’t really get it but accepted it.

But when you saw Aaron Hotchner coming through the door, you thought that maybe fate was behind it.

If the attraction was born on Jack’s birthday with his casual look, it came back bigger when you saw him. The charcoal grey suit, the burgundy tie, the dark hair perfectly styled, the silver watch shining on his wrist and the serious look on his face, everything made you lose it that day.

You weren’t the only one surprised by the unplanned and supposed-to-never-happen-again reunion. 

“Didn’t know you were working here.” Aaron said after he finished talking to your boss. He walked straight to your desk, his knees barely touching it. Like he was trying his best to not enter your life again.

“It’s not like you knew a lot about me.” you replied, folding your arms against your chest. You noticed his eyes looking down on you before going back to your face. This was almost a criticism. But could you really blame him for not staying in touch with his brother’s ex-girlfriend?

Aaron sighed, looking away to make sure nobody was listening. “Listen, I know you complained about the victim. We need to hear you.”

You tried not to look disappointed that it took him less than a minute to change the conversation and focus on the case. There was so much more you wanted to say. 

But you also noticed that it took him that same amount of time to change his mind about his place in your life and put a hand on your desk.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked, frowning. “He was convinced every person that walked through this door wanted to have sex with him. To the point he didn’t mind cornering people to get what he wanted.”

You noticed how the hand Aaron had put on your desk turned into a fist. “I slapped him, once.” you added. “It was during last year Christmas’ party. Apparently, my red dress attracted him like a bull to the point he followed me to the toilet to finally have his rest. He said it was my fault.” you took a break, breathing. “He’s the one who’s dead now.”

Maybe you dreamt it but you’re sure you saw a smile on Aaron’s face. Short and very small. But a proof he heard you. Anything else, Aaron?”

“I’ll tell you.” you loved how his eyebrows went up and down, just like his eyes on you. He took one second from his time to look at you before walking back to his team. 

You spent the whole day searching for him in corners and other rooms. Your colleagues always laughed about you being closed to the coffee machine as a way to satisfy your caffeine addiction. Which wasn’t completely false. But you were more than glad when the man haunting your thoughts came to take one more than once. It was good a distraction from work and the mess happening that day.

Next thing you knew, it was 8 p.m., your day was over and Aaron Hotchner was waiting for you. But not casually. 

He was waiting to bring you to the police station. 

“That’s a joke, right?” you asked, chuckling at the idea. It was kind of funny to be arrested by your ex brother-in-law. But there was no sight of fun on his face. 

And when he walked behind you to escort you, Aaron leaned closer to your ear. “Don’t make things more difficult.” he whispered. You closed your eyes for a second, imagining other moments where this man could whisper things in your ear. But only for a second. Because Aaron was walking quickly behind you, hurrying you up outside.

He was the one helping you get in the car. You appreciated the irony of him opening the door like a gentleman. Aaron noticed the look in your eyes, the anger of being arrested for something you clearly didn’t do. And the betrayal of him being the one arresting you. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled so softly you almost didn’t hear it.

But you did. And it was the melody that stayed in your head the whole ride.

The questioning was pure torture.

Aaron asked to not do it, a conflict of interests that the team quickly learned about when they did some research on you. So you met agent Prentiss and Morgan. Well, meet again technically because you remembered seeing them at Jack’s birthday. But there was no time for chatting.

Maybe it was because of your connection with their boss or they saw the sincerity in your words, but none of them seemed to believe in your guilt.

But you still had to stay there because you were one of their unsub. Telling the same story over and over.

“You said you wanted him dead.” Prentiss said, showing you a screenshot from a conversation with your colleagues. 

You couldn’t contain your laugh. “That son of a bitch tried to abuse me. He tried to abuse almost every woman that walked in our office. He was waiting for them like a goddamn hunter. And I should ask for his happiness? He’s better where is now.” you looked at her in the eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I killed him.”

This continued like that for hours. Of them leaving the room and leaving you alone. Even if you could still feel Aaron’s look on you through the glass -at least you liked to think he was there. And both of them coming back to ask you more questions about work and the victim. 

It was midnight when you finally were allowed to come home. This time, you didn’t look for Aaron at the station. But you found him in your dreams. Whether you wanted it or not. 

That was how you ended spending the day at your apartment instead of work. You took your day off and learnt in the afternoon that the real responsible had been caught. 

And again, you thought this case being solved meant you were finally free from the Hotchner brothers.

When the sun started to come down, you heard three knocks on your door. The atrocity of what happened the day before didn’t stop you from opening your door to strangers.

Except it wasn’t a stranger.

It was the man hunting your dreams and fantasies. 

“What do you want Aaron?” you asked, moving away to let him come in.

You weren’t the only one to whom the first meeting between you two was engraved in your mind. Aaron perfectly remembered the day Sean brought you to Jack’s birthday.

His brother didn’t tell him he would bring someone. And when he heard the gossips when you arrived, before seeing you two, he regretted inviting Sean. Of course his brother would do something to annoy him.

Then he saw you.

You had lowered to be at Jack’s level and were laughing at a joke he apparently told you. You looked mesmerised, like his son was the most interesting person in the whole garden. And if you asked Aaron, he would say it’s true. But to see that look on someone that didn’t know either him or Jack was flattering. And appealing.

It wasn’t only the way you acted with Jack. It was you, entirely.   

He remembered the glow in your eyes when you first talked. He remembered how you always seemed to look for him. He remembered seeing you get lost in your thoughts, wondering if he was the cause.

He remembered the necklace you were wearing: a gold chain with an emerald. A gift from Sean. He remembered thinking how his hands would look so much better around your neck. 

Aaron felt bad for having such a sudden and massive desire for his brother’s girlfriend. And just like you, you were the only one in his mind when he went to sleep that night. Or during the showers that lasted longer than usual the following days.

Then life carried on. He somehow forgot about you or his attraction for you. And after his fight with Sean, he wasn’t even aware that you two broke up. Not until yesterday, when you revealed during the questioning that you were single.

“Apologize.” he finally replied. You turned around to look at him. Aaron leant against the wall, like a statue that belonged there. You guessed his day was over by the way his tie was a little less thigh around his neck than yesterday or how the first button of his shirt was undone. He looked tired. This case was draining. Not only by the murder itself but by you being part of it. 

You nervously chuckled at this. “Don’t worry Aaron, I’m used to the Hotchner brothers hurting me.” 

You haven’t thought about Sean since your breakup. You even erased the memory of him in your apartment. The way he would always sit at the same place, the mug he always used -one you got rid of- or how his perfume would always stay for a day or two after he left. These were gone from your mind and you were glad that your life didn’t change after he went away.

Aaron being here could have revived this.

But it didn’t.

Seeing him here made you want to create new memories. With him. 

It started with him taking long steps to catch your wrist. “I’m not Sean.” a fact he needed to hear more than you. Thank god he wasn’t his brother. Otherwise he would never have come. “What did he do to you?” 

Anger. Passion. Eager. You could see all that in his eyes. You could feel it in his hand, how he was gripping your wrist but softly touching your skin with his fingertips. You could hear it in his breathless sighs. 

“Does it matter?” you whispered, close to his lips.

You didn’t know which one of you was leading this dance that couldn’t be seen but you soon felt the wall against your back and Aaron’s body against your chest. “Maybe we should focus on what I can do to you now.” 

Next thing you knew, Aaron's lips were on yours. Angrily kissing the memory of his brother on your mouth away. Passionately biting your lips to taste more of you. Eagerly taking your shirt off to discover your body. All his thoughts went silent with you around. All he wanted was to get more and more of you.

His hands felt exactly like you thought they would on your body: hot and firm. He was grabbing your hips, pressing his body harder against yours. Soon your legs were around his waist. You felt the tense in his arms being tighter holding you like this. But not like it was hard. Like he was living every single second of that moment with appetite. 

When his lips slid on your neck and your hands got lost in his hair, you knew you never wanted this moment to end.

Later, you would find it funny how Aaron found the way to your room without even looking. He was too concentrated on kissing every piece of skin he was unveiling to think about that. Yet, he had no problem walking through the corridor and laying you on your bed. He followed his gut and his gut was driven by his need to be inside you.

When Aaron started untying his tie, you stopped him by putting a hand on it, meticulously placing it on his heart.  “Let me do that.”  you said, your lips so close to his ear that you almost kissed it.

You always had a thing for undressing men. Especially men in suits. 

You took your time with his tie, letting it slide all along his neck in a soft way. You slowly did every button of his shirt, kissing his chest centimeter by centimeter. You lost it for a few seconds looking at the strand of hair running through his chest. This would be a new addition to your dreams, you knew that.

His belt fell on the floor, his pants made the best noise sliding through his legs. And there you were, both naked, and you in front of the man with whom you had the most insane fantasy.

Aaron took a moment to look at you. You were close to it, with him on top of you. You got lost in the beauty of his eyes while he was admiring you. “What does it mean?” you asked him, softly bringing a hand to his cheek in a moment of tenderness that you didn’t expect to happen. 

You saw the conflict in his head. Being torn between knowing he shouldn’t be there with you -because of his job, because of his brother, because of who he was as a man. And putting everything aside for once in his life. “I don’t know.” he replied, still leaning closer to you. 

“And I don’t care.” he added, finally letting his body explore yours entirely.  

You got lost in Aaron’s arms that night. Every minute felt better than the past one. Every kiss felt nicer than the post one.

And every moment, you let yourself fall for him harder.

You couldn’t say you had feelings for him already, except for the obvious attraction you both had for each other. 

But looking at Aaron, asleep in your sheets at 4 a.m. after making love to you multiple times, you thought that maybe. Maybe. You could let yourself be in love with a Hotchner brother again. 

“I see you,” you heard him say in his hoarse sleepy voice. You were a little to blame for it after making moan harder than you thought he even would.

You laughed a little which caused a sweet little smile on his lips.“With your eyes closed?”

“I can see you everywhere.” he replied, opening his sweet eyes. “Even when you’re not there. And I know you did too.”

“Are you a magician, Aaron Hotchner?” you asked with a fake surprise. Slowly, his hands guided you on his lap again. A place you never wanted to leave.

He never answered your question. Not now nor ever. He simply kissed your lips in the softest way, his arms tightening around you so you could lie on his chest.

An offer to discover that yourself, if you were willing too. 

[celestialgalaxyglow]

Batfam and Danny, Part 12

Danny: Hey Alfred, I was going through some old files and I was wondering if you could explain something to me.

Alfred: Sure thing Master Daniel.

Danny: How long were each of the Robins, Robin?

Alfred: Well Dick was Robin from the time he was 14 till he was 17, when he decided to become Nightwing. After that your father was Robin from the time he was 14 till 16, when the Joker... killed him. He was gone for six months but by the time he retuned Tim had become the new Robin so your father become Red Hood. Tim was Robin from the ages of 14 to 17, Till Steph came to us and he gave the mantel of Robin to her and became Red Robin. Steph was Robin from the age of 17 to 18, she gave up the mantel to Damian when he was dropped off by Miss al Ghul and took the name Spoiler. Damian took up the mantel of Robin upon his arrival at the age of 10 and has been Robin for the last two years.

Danny: Ok, how old is everyone?

Alfred: Dick is 25, Jason is 22, hopefully you knew that one, Tim and Barbara are 20, Steph, Cass, and Duke are 19, Damian 12, Master Bruce is 34, and my age is classified information.

Danny (laughing): How do I gain clearance to access that information.

Alfred: I grant the clearance.

Danny: Can I have clearance?

Alfred: No.

They laughed.

Alfred: I must ask Danny, what brought along this line of questioning?

Danny: It's the way Bruce talks about the former Robins. The official reports state their ages the way you told them, but between the lines, and the way Bruce talks about their times of Robins I imagined they were all around ten when they took up the mantel.

Alfred: That's a reasonable conclusion to reach. Even though everyone, except Damian, were already teenagers when Bruce took them in, he's always talked about them as if they were little kids. And in all honesty he still does.

Danny: Hmm, interesting. Wait so Bruce took on Dick in when he was 24?

Alfred: Yes. Not even a fully grown adult, the brain doesn't fully develop till the age of 25, but yet Bruce decided to adopt a kid 10 years younger than him.

Danny: Our family is strange.

Alfred (sipping his tea): That it is.

Later at Jason and Danny's apartment.

Danny: Dad can I ask you something?

Jason: What is it kid?

Danny: How did everyone react when you came back to life?

Jason: Oh, that is a story! So after I fought my way back to the Land of the Living I woke up in my coffin and dug my way out. I was a bit disoriented, but somehow made my way around the manor to the front door. I remember nocking and Alfred opening the door and that's it. This part I got from Alfred, I feel into his arms, he called for Bruce, and I was sent to a medical bed in the Batcave. When I came to, Bruce, Alfred, and Dick where next to me. They were happy to see me again, but very confused as to how I came back to life. I explained my story, and Dick started laughing, saying only I of all people would fight my way back to being alive. Bruce on the other hand would not stop apologizing for my death, no matter how many times I told him I forgave him. That's also when I learned that Bruce had killed the Joker.

Danny: What about Tim?

Jason: Tim was hiding behind a wall. Poor kid thought I'd be mad at him for stealing my job as Robin. I told him I wasn't mad and that I was done with all the vigilante stuff for the time, and wanted to take a break. He was also a little worried that Bruce would kick him out but we all put a stop to those concerns, he was part of the family and he wasn't getting rid of us that easily. Anyways, the next day Bruce tackled my legally dead status by creating a fake body of me and putting it in the coffin. So when the police asked questions, they saw a very alive me, and a very fake body in the coffin, and Gotham being Gotham, they didn't ask further question, and my legally dead status was revoked.

Danny: Really? No further questions? Like where you've been for the last six months?

Jason: Nope. But I was allowed to keep my death certificate.

Danny: What about Gotham high society and the general population?

Jason: We told this story that some madmen had kidnapped me and that I managed to escape and make it home. Everyone bought it, or at least knew better than to question it.

Danny: Honestly, that checks out.

Jason: Anyways, after that I started helping Tim train, and after two months of rest I decided to jump back to work and took up the name of Red Hood, and started infiltrating Gotham's criminal underground and quickly rose the ranks. Keep in mind I didn't tell anyone, so Bruce got concerned about this new guy taking over Gotham's criminals and sent Tim to spy. I quickly caught him and brought him for an "interrogation." I expected Bruce to send Tim so I prepared an evil monologue and everything. After I was done monologuing I removed my mask and started lecturing Tim about how easily I caught him, and that Bruce, Dick, and I taught him better. Tim got mad and we started having a screaming match. Shortly after that Bruce arrived and saw us. Bruce was not happy that I decided to go back to vigilante business without saying anything, but he was proud of the work I was doing, so I got away with it. And that's more or less everything.

Danny: I love this family.

Jason: Yeah, we're great. I still have a grave, right next to grandma and grandpa. ... Please don't tell Bruce I called his Martha and Thomas, grandma and grandpa, poor guy will start crying and hugging me while calling me his son.

Danny (laughing): Don't worry I won't.

(Master Post)

Current ages

Bruce - 34

Alfred - [Classified]

Dick - 25

Jason - 22

Tim - 20

Barbara - 20

Steph - 19

Cass - 19

Duke - 19

Danny - 16

Damian - 12

[sometimesanalice]

Oh I adore getting your reblogs! It's always so fun getting to read someone's thoughts about things! But I'm also so happy that you enjoyed this one!

more for you!

Many thoughts...

He’s never been able to resist a bad girl wrapped up like the girl-next-door.

I can 100% see that-- that man never stood a chance! he likes to play the game, especially when the girl he's interested in is leading the way 🤭

He knew how good his biceps looked in the short sleeves of his uniform. And the way his pants clung to his legs and ass. He’d been spending a lot of his free time in the gym lately and it showed.

Yeah, let's show it off 😌-- he's such a slut (affectionate)! but if you ask him he'd just say he's a feminist and doing it for the female gaze, lmao

 He wanted that smile turned on him. Wanted to see if the look in your bright eyes would be just as playful with your gaze pinned on him instead. He wanted to be the one making you laugh.

A man on a mission-- my favorite little attention whore

It’s not like he’s going to go over there and lick your face like a kid might try and claim dibs on a cupcake.

Lmao that would be funny though 😅-- maybe next time, lmaooo. but also he knows what he's bringing to the able and backs himself all the way, he's not afraid of a little competition (not that there is any, haha)

Bradley’s never been one to shy away from making an entrance.

Oh, we all know 😅-- the cockwalk alone deserved an oscar

“Well, shucks,” you say with an over exaggerated shrug. “What about if I said I was roped into waking up at an ungodly hour to catch a flight up here because my best friend’s boyfriend is a Naval aviator and she wanted me to keep her company for the ‘casual five-hour cruise’, as you called it.” “Now that I believe,” he drawled. “So, what’s his name?” “Well, she calls him Jacob. He has one of those silly callsigns too, but I always forget it,” you scrunch your nose adorably as you search for it, “Something-man.” “You mean Bagman?” “Yeah, that sounds right.”

A woman teasing Jake? Bradley is probably thinking about proposing right then and there😅-- the easiest way to win over bradley bradshaw is to dunk on jake at any given opportunity, lol

“A private tour? Lucky me,” you purr. “Lead the way Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.” You knew what you were doing, he’d give you that. And he was eating it up with a spoon ready to ask for second, third, and fourth helpings. 

😌🤭😌🤭-- she's got him soooo wrapped around her finger, and good for her it's what she deserves!

And he knows he shouldn’t, that he could get in some big trouble for showing you areas that weren’t explicitly on the official list of tour stops. But he’s always been more of the apologize later type. Plus, he hasn’t been on this ship for very long, it’s not his fault if he manages to get conveniently turned around.

Definitely not his fault 🤷🏻‍♀️😅-- he's innocent your honor!

You reach up and run a playful finger along the brim of his cap, “So what’s a girl got to do to get a turn wearing the hat?” His mind flashes with images of the last time he’d let a woman wear it. “I’ll have you know this is technically Naval property, they don’t let just anyone have one. You usually have to earn it. But for you?” he pauses and gives you a heated once over, “I’ll let you try it on for free.”

His hat has probably been worn by multiple women before 🤭-- that hat has definitely seen some action that's for sure, lmao. and who he is who deny anyone who wants to try it on for size 🤭

He likes that you want to know these details about his job, he likes that he gets to share this with you. Even if the clock is ticking down before he has to get back on deck.

That's so cute 😍-- he doesn't often get to share this side of things so indepthly with anyone, he's definitely not missing his moment here!

“It represents strong ties, baby. It’s a symbol for the supportive partners and wives of those serving onboard,” he whispers low and sweet into your ear. “Bradley,” you sigh as you turn your head towards him for a kiss. It’s desperate and wet. And he can almost taste the neediness of your moan on his tongue. He’s never done anything like this while on duty on a ship before, and the thrill of it has his veins thrumming with adrenaline.

There always has to be a first time 😌-- the man likes to live on the edge! the adrenaline rush of it all! plus everyone else is busy, and it is called the ready room after all haha

“You’ve had me hook, line and sinker since the damn second I saw you.” He grinds himself against your ass and you whimper at the contact. “What do you want from me? I’ll be so good to you, so good for you.” “Fuck me.” He can feel his pulse thundering in his throat. “I’m trying to,” you whine.

Oh I bet he does 🤭🤤-- we all know that man doesn't half ass anything and we thank him for his service!

And he’ll sure as shit never be able to be in a Ready Room again without getting a hard-on. The memory of you bent over the table before him will forever be ingrained in his brain.

🤭🤭🤭-- she's definitely made a lasting impression on him!

“I see you found your gift early, baby.”

Ahhhh omg-- i love a good twist!! and this one is one of my favorites!! 🤭🤭🤭

Bradley would never forget the first time he saw you that night at the bar downtown last year during Fleet Week. He had noticed you right away, it had been impossible not to. You and your girlfriends had been all done up in hot pink outfits for the Bachelorette party you were out celebrating. Your friend had flounced right up to Jake taking the shot of whiskey out of his hand before swallowing it down then cheekily offering to buy him a replacement. Hangman had been wrapped around her finger ever since.

Love that they both met each other's partners on the same night out 😅-- i ended up writing about the night they met! if you ever want to read it it's called "wildest dreams"! it's another cheeky and fun one, but I loved getting to explore just what happened the night they met!

He could never be mad at you, especially not with his necklace around your neck. You were his, and he was so gone for you. “It looks so pretty on you,” he tells you softly as his fingers brush over your collarbones.

Oh he is so in love🥰-- he's so down bad!

“Oh my god, Rooster, I can’t we defiled Naval property.” You giggle as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to circle your arms around his neck. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been defiling Naval property ever since you brought me home with you the night we met.”

^^ the most perfect gif in existence, lmao. they're both go getters ahahahaha

You take that cap off of your head and set it back on his, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek, “Glad I’m getting a good return on my taxes then.” 

Facts 🤷🏻‍♀️-- i wouldn't mind getting a return on my taxes this way, just saying... lol

“Maybe it has a little something to do with the man in the uniform,” you make a little hum as you check him out. “You’re so tan, Bradley, have you been using the sunscreen I sent with you-”

Wear that SPF!!-- my fav hc is that he's always getting sunburnt because he just doesn't have the patience to put it on.

When you’re both back on the open flight deck he walks you over to the railing along the edge of the ship and wraps you up in his arms to watch the coastline crawl by with his last few moments of freedom. 

Ahh I loved all of this so much 🥰-- i'm so happy you liked it!! thank you for reading!!

Hey, Sailor

Summary: It’s Fleet Week and Rooster would rather be anywhere else than on the flight deck of the USS Portland. That is, until a pretty thing in a sundress catches his eye and then suddenly his day is looking up. 

Pairing: Bradley”Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.8K

Warnings: Flirty Banter, Smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in Summer Whites (Minors DNI)

Note: When @roosterforme​ asks you to write her a Fleet Week fic, you write the Fleet Week fic! Here you go, Em!  💛

Normally, Rooster loved Fleet Week.

He loved the lively atmosphere and the parades. He loved the free drinks that were handed to him as soon as he entered a bar. And he especially loved all the attention he got from women when he wore his Summer Whites.

He usually came back to the ship looking less than pristine with lipstick on the collar of his uniform and hidden on other places on his body.

The USS Portland was teaming with excited families and camera-happy civilians taking in the sights from deck of the transport ship as they settled in for the five-hour journey to the San Diego. It was a Fleet Week tradition to welcome people aboard for an immersive experience, picking them up from a port further up North and then cruising along the coast before making their final docking for the week.

There were grills set up on the deck and the smell of flame kissed hamburgers and hotdogs mixed with the sea salt air. The sun was shining and the mood was light.

But this year, Rooster simply could not be bothered to give a fuck.

Keep reading

[steddieas-shegoes]

if you fall, i will catch you

for @steddielovemonth day 2 using Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper

rated t | 855 words | no cw | tags: high school, prom, slow dance, flirting, open ending but assumed getting together

🪩🕺💃🪩🕺💃🪩🕺💃🪩💃🕺🪩

Prom is stupid.

Steve didn’t even want to come. He didn’t have a date and nothing is more embarrassing than showing up to prom alone. Even the nerds come as a group, dancing and laughing together.

His mom made an appointment for his suit fitting and he couldn’t really explain to her that there was no need. She still thinks he and Nancy are on track to be married when Nancy graduates high school. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he’ll probably die alone.

Okay, that’s a little dramatic. He’s probably not gonna die alone.

But he may die unhappy, and that’s worse.

Most of the music hasn’t been terrible so far, at least. Only one slow song played and no one seemed interested in dancing to it.

Steve’s a fucking wallflower at his own prom. He never saw this coming.

He figures he could probably escape within the next few songs, no one would even notice his absence. He makes a mental plan to wait until one of the parent chaperones walks back to the other side of the room.

Then he’s off.

He manages to escape to the hall behind the gym, the one that leads to the auditorium and drama class, not the main building of the school. No one should be back here. It’s the perfect escape route.

“Never thought I’d see the day when King Steve is trying to escape prom,” a voice says from the end of the hall. The music from the gym is echoing in here, but the voice is much louder. It’s familiar, too. “Miss Wheeler too busy with Byers to dance?”

It’s Munson. Steve sighs.

“Why are you even here?”

“It’s my senior prom, too! Or should those of us not graduating not be allowed?” Eddie walks closer and Steve sees that he’s actually dressed up. It’s not a designer suit like he’s been forced into, but it’s nice. Eddie looks…nice.

“Wait,” Steve registers what he actually said. “Not graduating?”

“Yep. Apparently quadratic formulas are crucial to my development and I cannot enter society until I understand them.” Eddie kicks his foot across the tile, leaving a scuff mark from shoes that have probably been waxed beyond necessity. “And I guess dissecting a frog and turning in homework may have helped.”

“But aren’t you pretty smart?” Steve thought he was one of those dungeon dweebs like Dustin. Dustin’s the smartest person he knows, without a doubt, kid or not. He thought all the nerds who play that game were like that.

“Sure, I’m smart enough,” Eddie scoffs. “But I don’t play by their rules. I forget to do homework. I argue.”

“But if you know the stuff, they can’t fail you.”

“Ah, but they can. I don’t have the Harrington name to convince them to change a D to a C. It’s all good. Everyone expected it.”

Steve’s brows furrow, forehead creasing as he thinks about how many things people expected of him that won’t happen.

“Just because people expect it doesn’t mean you have to give it to them,” he says.

Eddie’s eyes widen and he seems shocked by Steve’s words. But the shock wears off quickly. Steve wonders if he imagined it.

“Right you are! Very wise words from the king,” Eddie bows dramatically.

Steve laughs.

Eddie glances up, tense until he realizes Steve’s not laughing at him, just at the entertainment. He stands straight and holds out his hand.

“I do believe such wise words should be repaid with a dance,” Eddie puts on a fake British accent, nose pointed to the sky, smirk playing on his lips.

Steve thinks this must be what it’s like to be charmed by someone.

“A dance?” Steve asks. “Here? With me?”

“It would be my honor,” Eddie loses the accent and turns his head back down so he’s looking right at Steve’s eyes. “Miss Lauper wrote this song just for us, after all.”

Steve’s confusion grows until he hears the song coming from the gym. He can only imagine how awkward it must be in the gym while some couples slow dance with chaperones watching their every breath. He reaches out and takes Eddie’s hand.

“The honor is mine, sir Munson,” Steve tries for an accent like Eddie had previously, but it falls flat.

Eddie pulls him close, but hesitates before he puts an arm around his waist. Steve feels breathless all of a sudden, like they’ve rocketed into space and he forgot one of those astronaut suits. He nods, giving permission for Eddie to take the lead.

When Eddie pulls him closer, they’re almost flush against each other.

Steve’s heart is racing.

“I didn’t know you were weird,” Eddie admits quietly. It sounds a lot like admiration. He’s swaying them back and forth gently, and Steve finds it’s easy to lose track of everything but the way Eddie’s hands rest on his body. “It’s nice to see you, Steve.”

It’s a lot more than what it sounds like.

As Cyndi Lauper plays, Steve wonders if this is how his prom was always meant to be spent: in Eddie Munson’s arms, falling.

[sturnslutz]

Smut with CEO matt?

this has been rotting in my inbox and drafts because i genuinely don’t know what to write for ceo matt…

matt had invited you over again to babysit amelia. this has been kind of a weekly thing where he just goes to the bar or wherever he needs to on the weekends and you’re stuck at his house watching bluey for 4 hours.

the thing is, he’s basically forgetting about the plans you have. you’re a college student and don’t want to be just at work or babysitting all the time. you actually do have to study, or just hangout with friends.

this is where you’re at, at his house basically arguing.

“matt cmon! i can’t always be at work or babysitting lia! i have an actual life!”

matt scoffs, looking to the side where the staircase is. “i understand that, but you can at least try.” “try to what? try to be sane? no, matt.”

he’s tired of this attitude from you, as his face softens a bit. he knew you were stressed, and he wanted to take that stress away. he walks over, wrapping his arms around your hips and pulling you closer to him softly.

“i know you’re stressed, baby. i’m sorry.” he ducks his head down into your neck, peppering soft kisses across your skin, occasionally biting a bit. “lemme make you feel good, yeah? how’s that sound?”

you can’t miss the growing wet patch in your panties. it’s been a while since you and matt have actually done anything, and you’ve been aching. it doesn’t take long for matt to break your stubbornness, eliciting a small nod and whine from you.

he smirks, grabbing your hand and bringing the two of you upstairs to his room. he pushes you to the bed, closing and locking the door. “lia is watching one of her shows so she should be occupied for a bit, but make sure to watch your volume, bee.” you nod softly as you watch him take his shirt and sweatpants off, you doing the same.

the two of you are left in your underwear, matt grabbing your ankles and bringing you closer to the edge. he kisses your stomach and chest softly, whispering “i’m so sorry” “you deserve better” but those words quickly fade out of your head at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

he can feel your aching, and slips his arms under your chest to unhook your bra, letting your boobs pool out. he leans down and kisses all over them, some open-mouthed. he lets his fingers come to the waistband of your panties, hooking his fingers through them while looking up at you for your approval.

that’s one thing about him, he’s a slut for consent. no matter how many times you two could hookup, he’s always asking. you nod softly, your patience running out. “needa hear words, kid. y’know that.” “yes, matt. you can.” he doesn’t waste another second, tugging down your panties, causing a slight chill to run through you.

he kisses your clit softly, giving it a kitten lick. “matt stop teasing!” a choked sob releases from your mouth as he just nods and chuckles softly. he leans up, taking off his boxers and patting your clit with his tip a couple times.

he slides his tip inside before taking it out in the same second, continuing to tease, earning a small whine from you. he pats your cheek before tugging on it gently. “i know, baby. y’wanna be stuffed, huh? yeah, i know. you’ve been so good taking care of my house.” he coos.

he finally slides himself in, being a bit careful as this was only the second time you guys have actually had sex. he waits for your approval to start moving, and when you finally nod and say, “move”, he does.

he goes in and out slowly before going a bit faster, his eyes stuck on your tits moving and your face twisting in pleasure. a choked moan is released from you as he angles himself a bit differently in you, hitting a certain spot you would never be able to reach.

he smirks at this, continuing to hit it repeatedly, the pleasure almost becoming too much for you. “matt- fuck!” he chuckles softly, patting your cheek once again. “cmon, bee. use your words, smart girl.”

he goes faster, and your thoughts are immediately erased. the pleasure is so good and you can’t believe you’re even able to feel this good.

you cover your mouth tightly as he goes even faster, the sounds the two of you making thankfully covered by the increased volume of bluey matt had turned up before.

the knot in your stomach started tightening by each thrust matt was taking and he noticed this. “gonna cum?” you nod repeatedly, moaning as his thumb makes way to your clit, rubbing softly before pressing slightly harder, and rubbing faster, but not to the point it wasn’t pleasurable.

with a final moan, you release all over him and his eyes make their way to his now even more soaked dick and he groaned a bit at the sight. “m’ almost there, baby. think you can last a bit longer?”

“mmph- yes! yes, i can!” you get out barely and he chuckles at your attempt. he grips his hands on your hips, hitting a certain spot inside you that feels amazing for the both of you.

“wan’ me to fill you up, bee?” he looks up at you as you nod and whine out a small “yes” and he nods, finally stopping his movements, filling you up. he also got another orgasm out of you, so you finished all over him once again.

the mixed fluids of the two of you sat at the base of his dick as he pulled out carefully, earning a small whine out of you. “i’m sorry, bee.” he says softly as he picks up the liquids, pushing them back into you with his middle finger.

he stands up and walks to the bathroom that was thankfully in his room, and grabs a now wet towel and a water bottle.

he comes over to the bed, spreading you apart once again as he pats you softly, cleaning you. once he was finished with you, he used the towel to clean himself up too.

once he was finished, he tossed the towel and cracked open the water for you, holding it up to your lips. “drink, bee.” his hand makes way to the back of your head, lifting it up carefully so you wouldn’t choke.

once you were finished, he drank some of it himself before closing it.

he walked over to his dresser, grabbing you both some clothes, helping you put them on. he tucked you in before finishing dressing himself before kissing your forehead. “i’ll be right back, baby. i’m gonna go check on lia.” you nod softly as he smiles a bit before walking out.

[hyperfocusthusly]

Sweet things

@bucktommyfluffebruary - day two prompt ‘cooking together’

Notes: established relationship, domestic fluff, Tommy is too busy staring at his boyfriend to be an effective sous chef | Rating: G | Words: 700

[Read on A03]

——-

“Sorry I’m late!” Tommy calls through the house, “there was an accident, traffic was a nightmare.”

“That’s okay,” a familiar voice calls back. “I had to start without you.” Tommy comes into the kitchen to find Evan whisking a bowl of egg whites. “Need to keep on schedule so it has to bake and cool before we put it together.”

Tommy half remembers the 20 minute run down of why you have to let a meringue cool slowly, something to do with sudden temperature change causing cracks? In his defence he had been half asleep at the time, laid out on the sofa with Evan’s fingers carding through his hair.

Ever since Athena had assigned them the dessert portion of the menu for their barbecue this evening Evan had been spending every spare minute searching for the perfect thing to make. Several internet deep dives, three new recipe books and countless conversations later he had come to the conclusion that a pavlova would be perfect for the job.

“It’s the best of all things.” He had explained one evening, plastered against Tommy’s back while he did the washing up. “It’s crunchy and chewy, sweet but if you choose the right flavour crème, I was thinking passion fruit, then it’s not too sweet. Plus it’s light enough for after a big meal, perfect for a summer barbecue.”

Tommy comes around the kitchen island, rests his hand on Evan’s hip and presses a quick kiss to the back of his neck.

“Hope you didn’t do all of my jobs for me. I want to look Hen in the eye and tell her I helped make this thing, I’m pretty sure it’s high on her list of things she doesn’t believe are possible.”

Evan laughs,

“I need you to separate some more eggs, 3 yolks should do and then they need to go on a double boiler-” he shifts out of Tommy grasp, pulling the scales out of a nearby cupboard and measuring sugar into a bowl.

“I thought we were making meringue.”

“We’re making a pavlova, three key components; meringue, crème and fruit.”

“Oh yes of course, how could I forget the three key components.”

Evan pulls a face of mock shock at Tommy’s sarcastic tone.

“How indeed” he reaches up and taps the recipe card taped to the cupboard. “All the instructions are there if you need them.”

Tommy separates the eggs carefully, and puts them in a double boiler on the stove. He is stirring them gently when he feels Evan’s gaze boring into the side of him.

“Can I help you with something?”

Evan waggles his hand in the direction of the drawer Tommy is stood in front of.

“Can you pass me a spoon?”

“Sure.”

He digs one out and gives it to Evan, their fingers brushing over the handle. His gaze lingers on Evan for a moment too long.

“You know you have to stir those constantly right?”

“Mmm?” Truth be told, Tommy is a little less focused on the steaming bowl and more on his gorgeous boyfriend. He feels a bit lost with the way the afternoon sun is catching the lighter tones in Evan’s hair, lifting the golden tones of his skin.

Evan reaches over with the hand not currently occupied whisking egg whites and closes it over Tommy’s wrist, forcing him to stir the mixture.

“If you don’t they will scramble.”

“We can’t have that.” Tommy murmurs softly, still entranced by the way the light makes Evan’s eyes shine, picking up the different shades of blue in his eyes and making them sparkle.

Evan catches Tommy’s eyes and stops for a moment, his trademark frantic cooking energy slowing down as he looks at Tommy. He knows realistically that 24 hours is not a hugely long time to go without seeing someone but the way he feels immediately lighter under Tommy’s gaze makes him realise how much he misses him when he’s at work.

“Sorry,” he mumbles “I didn’t even say hello.”

“That’s okay baby, I know how important the structural integrity of meringues is to you.”

“You’re important to me too.”

Tommy smiles and Evan thinks he may never get tired of seeing it.

Tagging some beloveds (as always let me know if you want to be added/removed);

@leashybebes @livelaughlou @loucifersbitch @dark-alice-lilith @mmso-notlikethat @laundryandtaxesworld @bucksaiga @littlepaws9 @sad-girl-hours23 @evansbuck-ley @jamieroyjamieroy @typicalopposite

@moonydanny @teenmaximoff @bucksboobs @ohithankyou @bi-bi-buckleys @rubydaiquiri @hellion-child @aringofsalt @sweaters-and-silly @theotherbuckley @comfortingevanbuckley @epiphainie @wikiangela @bidisasterevankinard

@sunnywithachanceofbi @desert--moonchild @blitzynatural @actuallyitsellie @big-urchin-energy @fyrehose @buckleyskinards @owlgirl495 @honeyloulou @setmeatopthepyre @salty-autistic-writer @thecarrott

[ts-janus-rp-blog]

"Didn't want you to?" Remus snorted, "well, sucks to be him, huh? It's a good thing you didn't, I bet he would've hurt you if you did... And yeah, probably. Really? You don't mind your body?" Remus nodded, "I thought you would've, if I'm being honest. You pass so well that I thought you would've hated your body. I don't mind it either, whatever you're happy with then I'm happy with. I just...wanted you to know that you don't have to keep this body if you don't want to. I'm happy with anything." He smiled to him, then he worked his way back up to start washing the blood off of his neck. "I really have made quite a number of bruises on your neck... We better talk to Patton before he freaks out about this."

"Hm, I doubt that would work... I mean, he won't believe you if you call him. Even if you get Roman to call him and tell him directly that he's safe and happy, I doubt he would believe it. I mean, you can try... But that's just my opinion." The man shrugged, "Yeah? Alright, I'll send him a few dogs with a note. Mhm... Well, he clearly likes dogs, judging by Janus, so I think dogs may be the best bet. I'll get on that right away." The man grabbed a pencil and started writing that down on his notes.

"Oh, also, I have something else to report, talking about Remus... So, one of the boys mentioned that they've been keeping tabs on their ex. This ex lives close to Remus, and he used to be Remus therapist. He also is friends with Roman. But neither of them has spoken to this ex for some time. However, as of recently, after you finally got Roman, he's been spending an awfully long time with Remus all of a sudden. He's got some cameras set up inside of his ex house, and this is what he's caught." The man pulled out his phone, and he hit a few buttons. Finally, he presented the phone to Virgil, it was a live feed of Remus and Emile in the shower, and how they were giggling and moaning. "There's feed of them having sex too. Remus cares so much about his brother that he's having sex with someone he hasn't talked to in years instead of searching for his missing brother. That's horrible, don't you think?"

"Oh? He actually wore that and didn't complain? Huh, I thought he would've complained. I bet he looked quite adorable in it! Did you take any pictures of him? I would love to see it! Oh, I'm sure you made that clear amongst the boys, I heard them chatting about how they would love a piece of roman but they cant. Wow! And he let you do that?" The man chuckled, "I bet that was incredibly hot. Have you had sex with him yet? Do you think he's going to get pregnant anytime soon?"

"Hm... Well, that's another matter I wanted to talk to you about. I feel that the mutt is a liability. He may be working on getting out, or be Romans voice of reason. And we can't have that. I do understand that it makes Roman happy, so I agree that he should stay. However..." The man smirked as he opened his file and slid it over to Virgil. "I have an idea... I've been really interested in doing this experiment, but the opportunity hasn't presented itself yet. This is the perfect opportunity." He grinned, "Why don't we turn Janus into a stuffed animal? He won't be able to talk, he won't be able to get into Romans head, and he won't be able to help Roman escape. Hell just be a little plush toy that Roman can hold and feel comforted by. Now... Obviously, Roman would feel distressed to find his friend has turned into a plushie. But, I can manipulate Romans memories to make him think that his plushie has always been that, a plushie." He sipped.

Patton knocked desperately at the strangers door, praying someone, anyone was home. His heart beat as fast and loud as the rain thundering against the sidewalk. He was sure he was being followed, they were going to catch him. They were going to drag him back. He wasn't sure if whoever lived here might be worse, but he was willing to risk it at this point. Anything to escape.

{@moralpuppylover2}

Janus didn't know who would be at the door. It was late, but his master won't surely be home at this time. He normally doesn't get home until the sun starts to come up.

So, as the dog hybrid walked up to the door and opened it, he wondered who it could be. And if he should open it at all... Who knows, he may get in trouble with his master for opening the door. But, his curiosity was getting the better of him-

He stopped when he saw the soaking wet cat standing at the doorway. He could tell that this cat needed help almost immediately. Well, if his poor state of clothes were anything to go by. His eyes flickered up and down the sidewalk before he grabbed pattons arm and pulled him inside.

"are you alright?" Janus nervously asked as he grabbed a towel from the mud room. "Well, that's a stupid question, of course you're not alright! Are you...running away from your owners?" As Janus walked, the collar around his neck would jingle loudly. And even though it was cold outside and even in the house, he only had a pair of boxers on. Because of that, Patton would be able to see the numerous large scars that covered his body...and the countless amounts of fresh bruises.

@moralpuppylover2

[nashusglasses]

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i finished s1 of apothecary diaries recently and for some reason high ranking military official!zayne x courtesan!mc will not leave my head!!! (>/////< " ) (cw: extreme yearning!!!!!!!! intimate kisses!!! this may or may not have been inspired by absolute zeal huehuehue)

he visits you once every two weeks. the attending staff like to tease you when he arrives (7pm sharp – no later, no earlier) by saying the prince has come to steal you away, and all you can do is roll your eyes. yes, he's devastatingly handsome and has some money to his name, but you can't imagine him buying you out of here anytime soon. you don't mind the job, anyway – you're paid to play chess, serve tea and the occasional glass of wine, stealing a kiss or two when they're drunk enough – and you refuse to imagine leaving your sisters behind.

zayne is different, though. he only requests tea (jasmine white, every time), requests exactly three games of chess, and always asks you to fill the silence with stories of the previous two weeks he'd missed.

one night, it changes.

zayne is fifteen minutes late.

you don't care for the schedule, but it's a change of pace you didn't know you'd kept. when he does finally come to your room, he is flushed straight down his neck, his uniform unkempt like he'd been clawing at the fabric.

when he sees the concern on your face, he has the decency to look sheepish. "i apologize," he breathes, then gulps. "i – the barracks had an impromptu party and i–"

"please," you interrupt. in the low light of oil-licked lamps, he calms. "you have no need to explain yourself. would you like to sit down?"

he gulps again. blinks stupidly for a quiet few seconds. a part of you wants to warn him the manager will probably charge him for the full two hours regardless of any excuses, but you don't think he can process anything in what seems to be an incredibly muddled brain.

you gently grab his arm, and he looks hypnotized.

"come. i'll make you tea," you say.

the next five minutes of crushing leaves and boiling water is hilariously silent. zayne's posture is sagged where he sits in front of the chess board, he's still blinking stupidly, and you already know the reason why. you smelled it the second you came within one metre of him.

"so did they force a cup of sake down your throat?" you tease, readying a small porcelain plate for the hot teacup on a serving tray. "or was this your own doing?"

he watches your careful steps toward him. keeps his hazy eyes on your form when you lean over to place the tea in front of him, and he's a second too late to ignore your tits. (you wear this low-hanging hanfu for a reason – and if your words aren't getting to him, he may as well use his sight to communicate. your game sense isn't the only thing that's keeping you in the highest ranks of courtesans.)

zayne licks his lips, then remembers himself. he immediately turns his attention on a high-point of the ceiling. you watch his ears turn sun-red in record time. "the former," he answers.

"i figured as much. let me put this tray away then we can get started. please don't burn your tongue."

he's already finished his cup when you come back to seat yourself in front of him.

"are you sure you're of the right mind?" you reassure him. "i wouldn't want you to waste your money on trivial conversation."

zayne almost looks offended. "no conversation with you is trivial."

oh. now you're burning up. "i understand. shall we play?"

he hardly sobers after your first game. he loses so spectacularly you'd thought he was teasing you when he let you take his bishop way too early in the game, but you realize he's just that drunk. you let up in the second match when you start to see him swaying in his spot.

"maybe we should stop for the night," you suggest. zayne ignores you, eyebrows furrowed with intent to continue, dangling a pawn over a column you know he's contemplating with zero strategy.

you stop him before he drops it down with a warm palm on his knuckles. he freezes. "i insist."

zayne looks at you, teary-eyed. you're almost tempted to smother him in your chest and croon. so you stand up, beckoning him over to your bed where he can relax.

he keeps a respectable distance from you at the edge of the mattress. but in the warmth of your pink blankets, all his harsh lines soften. underneath his uniform, you know he's made of hard muscle. trained strength. he could probably lift you with one finger.

he makes a strangled sound when you cup his face, tracing the thin skin of his cheek.

"you're safe here," you whisper. truthfully, you have no idea how to comfort him. all you can offer is another cup of tea, and you scold yourself for being such a terrible host.

zayne closes his eyes, then leans into your touch.

you stay still. he kisses your palm. you squeak.

"oh," you say.

zayne offers no explanation, waiting for you to retreat. inevitably, you are star-struck.

with his eyes still closed, he grabs hold of your arm, trailing a light kiss on your wrist, the inside of your elbow. the middle of your bicep. your shoulder.

he stops, and says: "may i please?"

the neurons in your brain are firing at sonic speed. you tingle where his lips rained. and because you are the most indulgent person in the world with a beautiful man in your bed, you nod. "you may."

he aims for your jaw but misses terribly. his kiss is wet on your chin, and you can't help but laugh. he smiles, hovering his mouth over yours. letting you take the lead.

you make him swallow your joy.

he is a pliant lover, tasting you only when you tongue at him first. he is so, so gentle. when you break for air, he pants.

"you have all of me," he whispers.

he yelps when you tackle him onto his back.

.

.

.

(later that night, your manager asks you how the hell you doubled your rate for your service. you shrug, wiping your bottom lip, savouring what you can.)

[writeriguess]

Hey hun! Welcome back 😘

So, i have a kind of slow burn idea for a Bakugo x fem!reader fic. They both like each other and when she tries to ask him out or talk to him about it, he's kind of an ass 😅

He thinks she'll be in the way or a distraction to his goal, so he pushes her away. He can't get her out of his head though and their friends tell him he's being an idiot. Eventually, he cracks and tells her (in his very 'katsuki' way) that he does want to be with her.

Angst ending with lots of fluff, confessions, and a kiss please!

author's note: Thank you so much! <3 I just wanted to say that your idea was incredible, and I had such a great time writing it. It turned out to be much longer than I expected, but it was definitely worth it!

Heart of Dynamite

It started with stolen glances. You weren’t sure when you first noticed, but something about the way Bakugo Katsuki acted around you was different. He wasn’t nice, not by any stretch of the imagination, but there was something else buried beneath the rough edges and sharp remarks. A fleeting glance when he thought you weren’t looking. The way he always seemed to hover nearby during group exercises, subtly ensuring you didn’t get caught off guard.

You weren’t blind. You saw the way his crimson eyes would flick to you during lunch, only for him to look away just as quickly if you caught him. You noticed how his explosions during sparring would seem almost… controlled when directed your way—less destructive, more calculated. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make you wonder. Enough to make you hope.

The problem was, Bakugo being Bakugo, he’d never admit to something as human as feelings. If he did like you, he was keeping it buried under a mountain of anger, pride, and whatever complicated emotions made up Katsuki Bakugo.

But still, the moments added up. And with each passing day, your crush grew stronger. You hated the way your heart fluttered when he called you by name instead of his usual nicknames for everyone else. You hated how you’d secretly look forward to his biting remarks because, in some twisted way, it was his version of paying attention to you.

And most of all, you hated how much courage it took to even consider confessing to him.

After weeks of agonizing over it, you finally decided you couldn’t live with the "what if." No matter what, you needed to know.

The opportunity came on a rare quiet evening at the dorms. Everyone else had gone out for karaoke, leaving you and Bakugo alone. He was sprawled on the couch in the common area, his arms crossed, staring at some mindless action movie playing on the TV.

You hovered at the doorway, your heart racing. You almost turned back, but then his gruff voice interrupted your thoughts.

"What the hell are you standing there for? You look like a damn idiot."

You flinched, but quickly steeled yourself. "I just… needed to ask you something."

His gaze flicked to you, crimson eyes narrowing slightly. "Then spit it out already. Don’t waste my time."

Your hands were clammy as you stepped closer, each word feeling heavier than the last. "Do you… want to go out with me? Like, on a date?"

For a moment, Bakugo just stared at you. His usual scowl didn’t shift, but you could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes—so quick you almost missed it. His jaw tensed, his hands clenching into fists on his lap.

Then, he scoffed. Loudly.

"You serious?" he said, leaning back against the couch like your question was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. "Why the hell would I want to go out with you?"

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your throat tightened, and your chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

"I mean, come on," he continued, his tone sharp and cutting. "What makes you think I’d waste my time on something dumb like that?"

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but not from embarrassment—from the sting of his rejection. You struggled to keep your voice steady. "I just thought… maybe—"

"Well, you thought wrong," he cut you off, his voice cold and unrelenting. "So stop acting like some lovesick idiot and get over it."

The silence that followed was unbearable. You felt like the floor had been ripped out from under you, like you were standing on the edge of a cliff with no way to step back.

"Got it," you said finally, your voice small and strained. You turned on your heel before he could see the tears pooling in your eyes.

Bakugo didn’t move. He stayed on the couch, staring at the TV that he wasn’t really watching. His nails dug into his palms, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

"Idiot," he muttered under his breath, though he wasn’t sure if he was talking about you—or himself.

Hours passed, but Bakugo didn’t leave the couch. He replayed the scene over and over in his mind: the look on your face, the way your voice had cracked when he tore you down.

He hated himself for it. Hated the way he’d lashed out, even though he knew it was because he was terrified. Of what? He didn’t know. Maybe of admitting to himself that he cared. Maybe of the fact that you could make him feel so out of control with just one stupid question.

But now it was too late. He’d pushed you away.

You, on the other hand, locked yourself in your room, curled up on your bed, and let the tears flow. You couldn’t believe you’d been so stupid, so naive. Of course Bakugo didn’t like you. Of course he didn’t care. You’d just been projecting your feelings onto him, imagining things that weren’t really there.

Still, the hurt lingered. You tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter, that you’d move on, but the ache in your chest said otherwise.

Little did you know, Bakugo was sitting downstairs, fists clenched, consumed by his own turmoil. Because for all his bluster, he’d never wanted to hurt you. He just didn’t know how to deal with the truth: that he did like you, more than he was willing to admit.

Bakugo tried to convince himself that what he’d said to you was necessary. He had goals—real, tangible goals—and nothing, no one, was going to distract him. Becoming the Number One Hero wasn’t just a dream for him; it was a mission, an obligation, a destiny he was determined to carve out with his own blood, sweat, and tears. He didn’t need complications. He didn’t need feelings. He didn’t need you. That’s what he told himself over and over as he sat alone in his dorm room, glaring at the wall like it had personally offended him. His fists were clenched tightly in his lap, the tendons in his hands straining from the pressure.

But no matter how hard he tried to justify it, he couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind. The way your expression had crumbled when he snapped at you, the hurt in your eyes as you turned and walked away—it all replayed in his head on an endless, agonizing loop. He could still hear your voice trembling when you’d asked him out, soft and vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to hearing from you. You weren’t the kind of person who let your guard down easily, and he’d taken that rare moment of courage and crushed it underfoot.

“Tch,” he growled under his breath, running a hand through his hair and gripping the strands in frustration. “Stupid.”

He thought that pushing you away would make things easier, but it didn’t. If anything, it made everything worse. You were everywhere. Every time he walked into a room, his eyes automatically searched for you, even when he told himself they wouldn’t. When you laughed with your friends, the sound sent an irritating warmth through his chest, only to be followed by a sharp pang of regret when he remembered the look on your face that night. During training, he found himself tracking your every move without even meaning to, his instincts on high alert every time you dodged an attack or threw a punch. He hated it. Hated how you’d wormed your way into his head and refused to leave. Hated how much he wanted to be near you, even after he’d made it clear that he didn’t want anything to do with you.

It didn’t help that everyone else seemed to notice his turmoil. His friends had started giving him strange looks during meals, their eyes darting between him and you as if they were waiting for something to happen. Kirishima, in particular, had been annoyingly persistent, watching him with that infuriatingly knowing expression he always wore when he thought Bakugo was being an idiot. Bakugo did his best to ignore it, but the tension was impossible to escape.

One evening, when the others were hanging out in the common area, Kirishima finally confronted him. Bakugo had been sitting on the couch, staring at his phone without really looking at it, when Kirishima plopped down beside him with a heavy sigh. Mina and Kaminari weren’t far behind, hovering nearby like vultures waiting for a meal.

“Alright, spill it,” Kirishima said, his voice casual but firm. Bakugo barely spared him a glance.

“Spill what?” he snapped, his tone as sharp as ever.

“Don’t play dumb,” Mina chimed in, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him. “You’ve been acting weird for days, and we all know why.”

“I’m not in the mood for this crap,” Bakugo growled, standing up to leave, but Kirishima quickly stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Bakugo glared at him, his crimson eyes blazing. “Move.”

“Not until you admit what’s going on,” Kirishima said, his voice steady despite the obvious tension in the air. “You pushed her away, didn’t you?”

Bakugo froze, his scowl deepening. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Kirishima said, his tone unusually serious. “Come on, man. It’s so obvious you like her. Everyone can see it.”

“I don’t—”

“Save it,” Mina interrupted, stepping closer with a look that could cut through steel. “We’ve seen the way you look at her. And don’t even get me started on the way you lose your mind whenever she partners up with someone else during training. You care about her, and instead of doing something about it, you’re being a total dumbass.”

Bakugo’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “I don’t have time for this crap,” he muttered, shoving past Kirishima and heading for the door. But before he could leave, Kirishima’s voice rang out behind him, stopping him in his tracks.

“You think pushing her away will make you stronger,” Kirishima said, his voice softer now, almost sad. “But all you’re doing is proving how scared you are.”

Bakugo’s shoulders tensed, his hand gripping the doorknob so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“You’re scared because you like her so much it freaks you out,” Kirishima continued, his tone unwavering. “But running from it won’t make it go away.”

For a moment, Bakugo didn’t move. The room was silent, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Finally, he yanked the door open and walked out, slamming it shut behind him without another word.

That night, Bakugo lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling with an intensity that could have set it on fire. Kirishima’s words echoed in his head, mingling with the memory of your voice and the image of your face. He hated how much it all got to him, how much he couldn’t stop thinking about you no matter how hard he tried. He hated the way his chest ached every time he thought about the hurt in your eyes and the way you’d walked away from him, your shoulders slumped in defeat. But most of all, he hated how much he wanted to see you again, to fix things, to say something—anything—that could make up for what he’d done.

Meanwhile, you were doing your best to move on. You’d been avoiding Bakugo as much as possible, throwing yourself into training and schoolwork to keep your mind occupied. It wasn’t easy, though. Every time you saw him, whether it was in class or during meals, you felt a sharp pang of hurt that refused to go away. You hated how much he still affected you, even after he’d made it painfully clear that he didn’t feel the same way.

But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter, that you’d be fine without him, the ache in your chest lingered. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong to hope, if you’d been foolish to believe that he might have cared about you even a little.

Little did you know, Bakugo was sitting in his room, wrestling with his own feelings and cursing himself for the way he’d handled things. Because for all his bravado and pride, the truth was unavoidable: he couldn’t stop thinking about you. And the more he tried to push you out of his mind, the more you consumed his every thought.

The days following your rejection from Bakugo had been a haze of hurt and confusion. You tried to keep yourself busy—extra training, study sessions, anything to keep your mind from replaying the harsh way he’d dismissed you. But no matter how much you told yourself to let it go, it lingered. You still felt the sting of his words, the way he’d looked at you like you were an obstacle instead of someone he cared about. That wound didn’t heal easily.

You avoided him as much as you could. You’d shift to a different group during training, sit at the far end of the cafeteria during meals, and leave the common area whenever he showed up. It wasn’t as subtle as you hoped; your friends noticed, and you were pretty sure Bakugo did too. Still, you couldn’t face him—not after everything he’d said.

What you didn’t know was that your absence weighed on him far more than he let on.

Bakugo was not a man who easily admitted to mistakes. Pride had been ingrained in him from an early age, and he carried it like armor. But lately, that armor felt suffocating, like it was pressing in on him from all sides. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop replaying the hurt in your eyes when he’d lashed out. Every time he saw you purposely turning away from him or laughing with someone else, he felt a sharp pang of regret that he didn’t know how to fix.

Kirishima’s words lingered too. “You’re scared because you like her so much it freaks you out. But running from it won’t make it go away.” As much as Bakugo wanted to punch him for saying it, he knew it was true. He’d been running from his feelings because they terrified him. You terrified him—not because you were weak, but because of how much power you had over him without even realizing it. And that was what scared him most of all.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. Watching you avoid him, knowing he’d been the one to hurt you—it was eating him alive. If he didn’t do something soon, he was going to explode.

That’s what led him here, standing awkwardly a few feet away from where you sat on the bench outside. You hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused on the notebook in your lap. For a moment, he hesitated, his chest tightening with something unfamiliar. Was this… nerves? He growled under his breath, frustrated with himself. He was Bakugo Katsuki, for crying out loud. He didn’t get nervous.

“Oi.” His voice came out rougher than he intended, and you jumped slightly, startled by his sudden presence.

You looked up, your eyes widening for a split second before your expression hardened. “What do you want?”

Bakugo flinched at the coldness in your tone, though he tried to hide it. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” you asked, already sounding exasperated. “If this is about training or some stupid lecture—”

“It’s not about training,” he cut in, stepping closer. His jaw tightened as he tried to find the right words. He wasn’t good at this, but he had to try. “It’s about what I said to you before.”

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into your expression. “Why are you bringing that up now? You already made your feelings perfectly clear, Bakugo. I don’t need to hear it again.”

He winced at the way you said his name—so formal, so distant. You used to call him Katsuki, back when things were simpler. Back when he hadn’t ruined everything.

“Just shut up and listen for a second, will you?” he snapped, though there was no real heat in his voice. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “I… I screwed up, alright? I said some shit I didn’t mean, and I hurt you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your expression softened slightly, but your arms remained crossed, a barrier he knew he’d have to break through. “Then why did you do it? Why push me away if you didn’t mean it?”

“Because I’m a goddamn idiot,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. His gaze dropped to the ground, his fists clenched at his sides. “I thought… I thought if I let myself like you, I’d lose focus. That you’d get in the way of my goals.”

“And now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Now I know that’s total bullshit,” he said, finally looking up to meet your eyes. “You don’t make me weaker. You make me want to be better. And no matter how much I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You’re in my head all the damn time, and it’s driving me insane.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, but you still hesitated. “You really hurt me, Katsuki,” you said softly, the pain evident in your voice. “I don’t know if I can just forget that.”

He stepped closer, his gaze intense and unwavering. “I’m not asking you to forget it. I’m asking for a chance to fix it. I was a dumbass, and I don’t deserve it, but… I want to try. With you.”

The vulnerability in his voice was so raw, so uncharacteristic, that it left you speechless. You searched his face for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was regret and determination.

“Katsuki…” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

“Look, I know I’m not good at this,” he interrupted, his hands twitching at his sides as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I’m not some smooth-talking idiot like Kaminari, and I’m probably gonna screw up a hundred more times. But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m not gonna hurt you again.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his words sank in. This was Bakugo Katsuki—the same boy who never admitted when he was wrong, who bulldozed his way through life without looking back. And here he was, laying his pride at your feet, just for a chance to make things right.

“You’re really bad at this, you know,” you said finally, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

He huffed, his cheeks turning pink. “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly my strong suit.”

You laughed softly, the sound making his chest tighten in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. For the first time in weeks, you felt the tension between you start to dissolve.

“So, what now?” you asked, taking a tentative step closer.

“Now I do this,” he said, his voice low as he reached out to cup your face in his hands. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he leaned in. His crimson eyes searched yours for a moment, and when you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance and kissed you.

The kiss was tentative at first, almost shy, but it quickly deepened as you responded, your hands reaching up to grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer. He kissed you like he was trying to make up for every moment he’d wasted, pouring all the unspoken feelings he couldn’t put into words into that one act.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads resting together, you were both breathless. He smirked, his usual cocky confidence creeping back in. “Told you I’d make it up to you.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “You’ve got a long way to go, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the warmth in his gaze betrayed the gruffness of his tone. “Guess I’ll just have to stick around and prove it.”

And for the first time in weeks, everything felt right.

Feel free to request <3