#i was reading a fic where two characters had their first kiss

[touchlikethesun]

despite the current state of things, good things have in fact happened. if they’ve happened in the past, they can and they will happen again.

[hauntedfictionland]

❝His dear princess❞

☾︎✰❛❀ Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem! Reader!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Jacaerys did not want you, or the vow he was bound to for life. Yet when he makes a big mistake, and potentially loses you for good. He realises just how much you meant to him.

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Bastardphobia, mentions of death and grief, kissing, marrage of convenience and grumpy X sunshine trope, Jace is down bad, flirty!reader, guilt and anxiety and happy ending;)

🪐𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: This is one of my first house of the dragon fics ever, so I truly hope it's not too bad. Jacaerys is one of my favourite characters in hotd after Alicent so I really wanted to get his characteristics and behaviour right. Also, I didn't like the way they showed his grief after Luke died, as if he just moved on after two or three days. But overall, I enjoyed writing this:)

Jacaerys was infuriated with you.

You—his betrothed, acted like you owned the castle as soon as you strutted in. Speaking with no formality and a sharpness in your tongue that only infuriated him further. And especially when you did not seem to care for his heritage, who he was. The heir to the iron throne. Yet you acted as if he didn't exist to you. As if he meant nothing to you.

A marriage pact with the martells was only one of convenience. You, a princess of dorne, he, the firstborn son of queen Rhaenyra. Yet, they were stuck in dragonstone, and needed support to match the strength of the green armies. His mother needed this arrangement more than the martells did, and you made that very clear by acting carelessly and so freely, like you were in your own home. By taunting him, sitting at the great council table with your legs on them, a coin in your fingertips and a smirk in your lips. He hated it, he hated especially how good you looked.

He hated being betrothed to you already.

Rhaenyra had told him martells were rather, open and modern people. They took part in adultery even after being married, especially with the consent of their own partner. He did not know how anyone could be okay with such acts. He did not know what to expect when he met you, but it certainly wasn't how you commented on his face, calling him one of a beauty. It was inappropriate, calling a prince by such bold remarks on the first meeting, yet you did not seem to care.

But what edged him to his limit was the day you called him a bastard.

Jacaerys had been worried, he couldn't find you anywhere. Not that he cared, he was just stressed you would create another ruckus. He looked around everywhere, the garden, the great council, the dining hall, your room, even his room, but you were nowhere to be found. His chest tightened, a restlessness growing in his stomach. It seemed he always felt that way without being with you for too long. Not because he missed you—of course, but because he wanted to ensure everything was going smoothly.

He was going around circles, head spinning with a feeling that made him uncomfortable. Where were you? did you flee the castle? or were so bored of him you went to the city to a brothel in search of another man to keep you company. Anger and jealousy filled in his chest at the mere thought of that.

Jacaerys did not seem where he was going, many thoughts inside his head, before he harshly opened a door to the library. And to his surprise, there you were, a book in your hand. ‘Adventures of Aegon the conqueror’, he could read the name of the book by how you were holding it. He felt he could breathe again. By the loud sound of the door opening your head flitted towards him. Your usual smirk growing up your lips. Something that made his heart flutter in a way he didn't want it to. He clenched his jaw, holding his fists in a tight ball.

“Where have you been?” he asks, desperate tone in his voice.

“Ah, Prince Jacaerys.” you smile, closing the book and turning your attention towards him. He hated how your eye lashes fluttered, your hair falling down in just the perfect way. “I've been gaining some Targaryen knowledge, as you can see. Since we are to be married, I thought I should know my husband's family. Don't you think?”

Husband.

That word rose heat to his cheeks, quickly clearing his throat.

“I'm not your husband.” he spoke, in a tone harsher than he intended, “At least not yet anyway.”

You smile wider, making his heart race. He was always a bit stubborn, and uptight. Yet you were always so carefree and light, always so kind with his demise. He didn't know what to make of it all. A curious look grazed upon your face, eyebrows furrowing. You sat up, walking onwards another shelf of books, lips pursued. Before looking at him.

“I have always wondered, hmm,” you say, your finger coming up to your lips, “do tell me prince Jacaerys, is it true that you were born out of wedlock?”

His eyes widened, “What did you say to me?”

You either did not notice the offend and defensiveness in his tone, or simply pretend not to. Turning to look at him, “I mean, all Targaryen children have white hair. Do they not? Even if they did not, none of your formal parents have black, dark hair like yours.”

His breath hitches, all of the insecurities he had contained in a jar of fireflies fled out the second you brought out his hair. A wall rising inside him. You were acting as if you just did not ask the most dangerous question ever. As if it did not matter to you.

“How dare you insinuate such filthy claims?!” his voice rises, almost shouting. Your eyes flicker surprise for a moment, before turning back to the usual stoic look.

“Ah, you are offended.” you state, as if he shouldn't be, “I meant no harm, my prince. I have no problem with you being a bastard. In fact, it only makes you more interesting. The thing I don't like is your distaste for the truth. One should own up to who they are.”

Bastard.

You, called him a bastard. He isn't able to speak for a moment, too tongue—tied. You....think of him this way too? you? he can't hear as you speak further, a ringing in his head. It only intensifies. Only when you start talking about dorne is when he snaps back from his haze.

“And I have thousands of brothers and sisters back in dorne, no one cares ther—”

“I don't care, what you dornish do back there, but here you don't speak to me with filths of a claim.” he grits, his voice cold, “I am the queen's son. And if I hear you say one word about that again, I will see you hanged.” his words held so much malice in them, one would believe it to be true.

Of course, he could never actually do that, the blacks needed martells armies more than ever. His mother couldn't afford them raging war at her and joining the green's side. And, he could never harm you either. It was just a baseless threat, one he said out of anger and insecurity. He immediately regretted it when he saw the look on your face; hurt. But even worse, fear. Before he could even begin to take them back, it was too late. Your spot, where you stood, was already empty.

You had seen him less and less after that. Of course, you were your usual self. Taunting and teasing him, but something was off. Something distant. He hated it. He hated how much he missed it. Your remarks, your witty replies, your cockiness. He wanted it back. He wanted you back.

Next time he sees you, it's in a completely unexpected place. Dragon—pit. He was about to ride on Vermax to patrol the skies, when he stops. There you were, sat on the hard rock, legs swinging at the edge of it and his dragon's head in your hands. You..you were feeding him. “What the hell do you think you're doing?!” he shouts, eye wide.

You turn your head to him, a smirk on your lips grows. You enjoyed the fact he was on his nerves, furious.

“What does it look like? I'm feeding this cute little angel right here.” you coo, talking to his dragon in a baby voice. Vermax was known for her temper, yet with you it magically dis—appears? a little bit inside him was flustered, heart beating faster than ever that you and his dragon, a very important part of his life, bonded flawlessly. But he shrugs it off, he has to. Flushing over you isn't his duty.

Protecting you is.

As much as he would like to deny it, you're his now. Lawfully so. And he wouldn't let anything happen to you. Especially Vermax. He wouldn't know how to live with himself if his own dragon were to be the cause of, of.. your demise. His throat burns, even the mere thought of harm coming to you feels as if he's being drowned to death. After Luke, he cannot lose anyone. Jacaerys cannot lose you. Even if that was the first thing he tried to do after meeting you. You were the most part of his frustrations yet the only thought when he's in his bed at night.

“Have you lost your mind?” he asks, his voice harsh, as if you were his child and he was scolding you for doing something childish.

“Have you had no fear? you could have died what were you even thinking?!” you falter for a moment, upon seeing the trembling of his hands and the tightness in his voice.

“Jacaerys—”

“No!” he interrupts you, “You, you could have been...do you even realise..”

Your eyes widened as he struggled to even breath, huffing for air anxiously. You quickly get up, walking towards him. He's so much inside his head that he doesn't notice your hands coming up his face, slinging through his dark curly hair. An act that slowed and claimed his beating heart down. Your soft palms make contact with both his cheeks, a peaceful shush in your voice and he finally breathes. Properly. He sighed, eyes closing as his hands came up to hold yours.

This, you, him? this felt oddly peaceful. This felt like home. Vermax watches the whole interaction with a quiet huff, turning away back to the pits. You nudge closer towards him, resting your forehead against his. Love. This felt like love. “Promise me” he starts out, his voice low and timid, “promise you will never do that again.” Instead of putting on a fight like you usually do, you nod, gently caressing his cheek. His head leaned further into your touch, putty in your hands.

“I promise.”

That, gives him great relief. “Good.”

Time seems to slow down, Jacaerys could count every freckle on your nose to cheeks, every small cut in between your knuckles or lips, every curve of smile you put on. And all the scents coming from your body that drove him crazy. You notice his lips still trembling, and above your judgement, you decide to kiss it better. He inhales a sharp breath as your lips touch his, but makes no movement to push you away. It's gentle, barely brushing against his. Jacaerys realised how they fit perfectly amidst his, and how much he was craving it all these months until he finally tasted them.

You slowly pull away, hesitantly. His eyes are still closed. Hands crawling up your waist. He speaks again, a whisper almost.

“I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

He's talking about the library, and you smiled softly, shaking your head.

“It's okay. You can't get rid of me that easily, Jace. Should have known that when you got betrothed to a dornish princess.”

You had already forgiven him. But he didn't want you to. He didn't want to be at your mercy this easily, not when he wasn't able to forgive himself. You, you had crept your way into his heart when he didn't want you to, and now he never wanted to let you go. It was all your fault.

“No I...” he shakes his head, “I never should have said that. Not only because it was so wrong but also because it was completely untrue.” Jacaerys swallows his breath, every bit of him wanted to turn away and never look back, but he couldn't do that. “I have been called names, about my heritage. Ever since I was a child. About my parenting and what not. And it's very...when anyone talks about it, it's like a bandage ripping off a new and fresh wound. No matter how many years pass by, it's still like that for me.”

You nod your head slowly, in understanding. This was raw. He had finally told you one of his darkest parts, his worst fears, and you hadn't run away.

“I understand. I should have never said that. I did not know it was like this for you.” He feels relief in your words.

But there was still something he needed to let out.

“But I...” he didn't know how hard this was for him until he started to actually say it, “I really could never mean it. What I said. Even if you have committed the worst treason or crime, even if you had taken my heart and carved it out, I still wouldn't be able to do one thing that might be even close to harming you. Believe me I have tried. And I have failed.”

He looks away from you, cheeks closing red. Jacaerys had just poured his heart out and gave it to you. But the chances of you, and feeling the same? were very dim. He sees stars when he sees you, what do you see? just him? or even worse? a filth in the name of a true born prince. A gasp leaves his lips as your fingers trace the outlines of his jaw, trailing down to his neck to his chest. You stopped at the red and black three dragons symbol made on the polish cloth he wore.

“Why do you think I agreed to this marriage? not because of this.” you point to the very symbol engraved on his chest, of the house targaryen, “If it was just for this, I certainly would have never.”

He turns his head back to you, confusion in his face. He also feels a bit of guilt in him. At first, he only agreed to this pact because his mother had no choice. Because of your house. Nothing else. And you're saying that his house didn't even matter to you when you agreed to this betrothal? then why? you did not even know what he looked like, and you simply agreed?

“Why then?”

That's the question that's now left in him. Why, if his house and title didn't matter?

“Well,” your lips curl up, a glint in your eyes, as a blush arose your cheeks, “From years I had heard stories of Targaryen princes. How arrogant and unkind they were, your cousins, Aegon and Aemond, well I certainly didn't hear anything good about them. And then you came. The velaryon prince, the son of the realm's delight, born with a kind heart and a fierceness to protect. I knew I had to marry someday, but I only agreed to marry you because I knew—you wouldn't mistreat me. Because I fell in love with the stories of the dark haired prince who had the most beautiful brown eyes ever, who protected his brother when he was a child himself, who stole my heart before he even claimed it.”

Jacaerys doesn't know what to say, his throat falls dry. It doesn't feel real, when he's wanted something so dearly and someone just gives it to him freely; it does not feel real. You do not feel real. But you are. He knows you are when your hands tug at his collar, his face close to you as you pull him towards you and your breath fanning on his cheeks. He knows this is real, and it's better than any dream he's ever had.

“I do not want our marriage to be an unhappy one.”

You say, a plea in your voice.

He smiles, wide. And he doesn't even have to make an effort this time, “For me, the words unhappy and you? well they don't go in the same sentence.”

That seals it for you, he can see that. As you kiss his words, an unspoken understanding and passion in it. Jacaerys realises he could get used to this. Kisses, hugs, reading each other books, waking by the warmth of your body besides his; in fact, there's no one else he'd rather do it by. And nothing he would want more.

𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑚:) 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛! 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒.

[luviestarz]

nishimura riki fic recs!

✷ jock!niki x tutor!gn!reader - @delcakoo (how is niki supposed to focus on biology when his shy tutor is so irresistible and fun to tease?)

✷ take (me) out - @jennaissantes (eating from each others plates)

✷ CUPID’S CORNER — nishimura riki - @amakumos (because he’s a little shit, nishimura riki sends a totally embarrassing confession about you to “cupid’s corner”, a twitter account that posts anonymous confessions from decelis academy students. but when that joke confession suddenly makes a bunch of people confess to you on cupid’s corner (for real this time!) riki finds that he’s jealous — and oh… he can’t believe it took him a fake confession to realise that he’s crazily in love with you.)

✷ NISHIMURA RIKI B☆YFRIEND HEADCANONS... - @tyunni

✷ NERVOUS : NISHIMURA RIKI - @str0l0gy (IN WHICH you make riki nervous.)

✷ THE ATTRACTIVE THINGS NISHIMURA RIKI DOES - @enhyqenn

✷ JOAH (I LIKE YOU) - NI-KI SMAU - @jayujus (in where fashion student and model, jo y/n, has been openly crushing on dance student, riki nishimura for god knows how long. that is until one day, she crushes on someone else and riki goes feral.)

✷ ( 尤も ) NATURAL — riki nishimura ᯽ - @latriii (It was natural to call you pretty, it was natural to approach you, it was natural to confess to you, and it was natural to like you. Sadly for Nishimura Riki, his liking for you was meant from afar. Riki had seen you at the volleyball court during the first day of hybe sport summer camp, since then— he developed a huge crush on you, word spread that a huge amount of people have.)

✷ [ NISHI RIKI AS YOUR HS TROUBLE MAKER BF — 🩹 !! ] - @invvuu

✷ ｡⋅✴︎｡⚬⋅ WHAT ARE WE? - @goldenhypen (the way you and riki act as best friends has everyone questioning what you two really are.)

✷ bad game (aim) - nishimura riki - @saursoob

✷ three strikes - nishimura riki x fem! reader - @boydepartment

✷ READ YOUR CONTACT— ni-ki - @mandukkul (riki gets a bit confused end ends up texting his talented gf)

✷ “kissing, I hope they caught us” ┈ ❊ ﹒ 🌪️ - @chlorinecake

✷ and you?  - @palajae (niki x tutor!reader)

✷ team captain - @jongseongsnudes (badboy!niki, bf!nishimura)

✷ ୨୧ KISS IT BETTER — n. riki - @bywons (badboy nishimura riki x f!reader)

✷ i’m just a teenage dirtbag baby ( like you. ) - @leaderwonim (nishimura riki was infamous for being handsome and also quite the character. he’d purposely throw papers everywhere, bump into people without a care, and ditch class like it was nothing. you were the complete opposite, but deep down, nishimura riki knew you were just like him)

✷ DUOLINGO DATE : NRK - @chaewandz (niki catches u practicing japanese on duolingo just for him while he’s asleep)

✷ plushies and pouts ☆ riki nishimura - @star-sim (that one time that riki punched your plushie and you got mad at him.)

✷ TEXT ME BACK! - @hoony2k (it's the middle of the night, the phone keeps buzzing, you've been trying to fall asleep, there's a knock on your window...wait what?)

[ihavethedreamies]

Only You | Bang Chan

Bang Chan - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: King! Bang Chan x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Married

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Breeding Kink (a bit), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Big Dick! Chan (duh)

Summary: You are a nobleman's daughter and your father is struggling to find you a husband. The king refuses to marry all of the women brought to him and will not take any concubines. You end up meeting each other.

Author's Note: Oh boy! Here is the first part my dudes. I wanted to have this out sooner but I'm living with my uncle with my parents right now and so I don't have the same freedom to hole away in my room all day like I would prefer. Also can't really write smut in the living room with your dad like two seats away from you.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.

P.S. I only need to write the smut part for Lee Know's and Changbin's parts right now and then I can do the others after. Hopefully I will have one if not both of those up tomorrow. Hopefully.

Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.

-> Series Hub <-

-> Lee Know's <-

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

Sighing deeply for a third time, you lazily turned the page of your book, head tilting to rest on your shoulder. Your braid fell over your shoulder, the purple daenggi draping down and covering the characters in the book. Didn't matter, you weren't really reading it anyway. Already had several times. It was nearly impossible to get books you hadn't already read several times, or things that were actually interesting to you, because your father wouldn't let you get them. Most of the books not directed toward women that you had, you more or less smuggled into your house. Because of that, it was hard to get more, and so you were once again bored with your choices. A delicate breeze wafted in through the open window, a small bird flittering down to rest on the sill. You looked over its various shades of brown feathers and you wondered if you could ever get a book for studying birds. Probably possible, but not probable. Men don't want women that know more than them, that's why you can't keep a suitor. Your father's voice echoed in your head, and you rolled your eyes. Unfortunately, though, it seemed he was right. You had many suitors out of the sons of noblemen, but none of them stayed around too long when your conversations turned from dainty and feminine matters to things that actually made them think. Looking out to the sky, you wondered if there was anyone out there at all that wouldn't mind your learned state.

 ~~~

On a day you were actually able to go out, you were grateful it was your brother who could go with you. You both were wandering the various seller's stands and storefronts, only just glancing at most things. If you had a guard escorting you, you wouldn't be able to smuggle another book home, but your brother would help you. As you pretended to look over various different earrings, you cast a glance from under your sseugaechima to where your brother was at the book seller. Rummaging through what they had, he held a few up to look closer at the contents before putting them back down. Must all be fiction… Looking back at the wares before you, you nodded to the shopkeeper and moved on, instead looking at some shoes. You were closer then to your brother, enough that you could see when he held a book up toward you, pretending to rest it on his shoulder as he continued looking, like he was reserving it. When you caught his side glance, you shook your head no. Already had it. He sniffed, putting it back, and kept looking. As you moved on yourself, across the way, you watched a young nobleman sidle up next to your brother. He was a great deal shorter; it almost made you giggle, but you tried to remain inconspicuous.

"Oh, my lord, the book you were looking for arrived!" The book seller slipped inside his shop, coming back with a book you had never seen anything like before.

"I managed to get in contact with the Arab trader and he got it here all the way from the far west!" The book seller smiled wide, and you had fully turned around at that point, your brother looking over his shoulder at you.

"Thank you." The man smiled, handing over a significant string of mun before turning to leave. You weren't able to react fast enough, and he caught you looking at him. Well, not him, but the book he was holding. It was bound in what looked like leather and you had never seen writing like it.

"Wait, my lord, this as well!" The shopkeeper reached under his stall and the man went back, taking the locally bound book from him.

"Might be hard to read without the translation." The young lord smiled and then went to leave again, pointedly looking right at you as he did, a small smirk on his face.

"Let's follow him." You whispered to your brother, yanking him down to your level.

"Are you sure? He paid a lot for that, he's not just going to give it to you, and we don't have that kind of money on us."

"I just want to look at it, come on." You hissed out, following after the man before he got too far out of view. You heard your brother sigh dramatically, but he hurried after you anyway, making sure he didn't lose sight of you.

You finally managed to catch up with the man in a small courtyard behind a restaurant not yet open. He was standing at the edge of the stream, watching it, the two books held in his grasp as he rested his arms behind his back. Right as your brother caught up with you, the man turned around, a playful smile on his face. It was then you realized how gorgeous he was.

"Interested in this?" He turned toward you, holding the book up, and in your excitement, you dropped your sseugaechima, the garment fluttering to the ground.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, grabbing the head covering. You had moved so fast, you were already standing in front of the man, ogling the book. Even though he was probably four or even five chon shorter than your brother, he was still nearly a head taller than you.

"Aigo, put this back on." Your brother draped the garment back over your head, dragging you back by the shoulders a few steps.

"Wait!" You reached for the book, not having gotten to touch it, but your brother stepped in front of you. Stupid societal chauvinism.

"Apologies, my lord, but she's…intense about her hobby." You rolled your eyes behind your sibling.

"This isn't a normal book." The other man said, and you rolled your eyes harder. Obviously, that's why you wanted it!

"It's all the way from Dogil." Huh? Where?

"If she wants to look at it, she can." You shoved your brother out of the way, so hard he not just stumbled, but fell on his butt. The man held the book out to you and with shaky hands you took it. The text was so incredibly foreign, and when you flipped the book open, it didn't even look handwritten. Then again, you couldn't be sure since it was such a foreign script. Little symbols sat in the top corner of each page, and the words were horizontal rather than vertical. Each little letter was so small, the book cramped with lines. It was heavy too.

"This goes with it." The other man held the translation book up and snatched it from his hands without thinking.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, hurrying to get off the ground.

"She's fine." You moved toward a bench and sat down, opening the translation on top of the foreign text. Though, it wasn't a direct translation, just a catalog of what each word meant. It would take time to fully translate it.

"C-could I translate it fully?" You looked up at the man, your sseugaechima falling off your head again. He smiled and your heart skipped a beat, but you weren't sure if it was because he smiled, or what the smile meant.

"I would rather not just give it to you. What if you don't give it back?" His tone was slightly teasing. You deflated then and he held back a chuckle.

"You know, I have a lot of far western texts that I don't have the time to translate myself. You could come to my home and do it for me?"

"Wait-" Your brother's tone grew stern and you looked between them, the other man holding his hand up to stop the other's words.

"Rather improper I know. Though, the King can get away with quite a bit." The man was smirking, and your eyes widened. What?

"Y-You're-" You met your brother's gaze and you both fell to your knees before him, bowing so your foreheads touched your hands. Immediately, you realized how brazen your actions were. You were doomed.

"Don't worry about it." He waved you both off and you stood, head still bowed, avoiding looking at his face. Instead, you glanced back at the books. You wondered if the book seller even realized who he was. Your brother sat up, but remained on one knee, if he stood, he would be higher than the king. That was not allowed.

"What is your name? Who is your father?" He asked and you swallowed hard, trying to get words out. You spoke your name and family clan, as well as your father's name and rank. If he told your father about what happened, you would never be allowed to touch another book.

"Your age?

"Twenty-two."

"You're unmarried?" He raised a brow, and you nodded sheepishly. Reaching around your back to tug on the end of your braid, hanging down to signify your marital status.

"Your name?" He nodded to your brother, and he told him.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind showing me to your home. I would like to converse with your father." Oh, no.

~~~

Nervously pacing around your room, even down the halls through the building of the estate you inhabited, you wondered what was happening. You had scurried away like a scared mouse once you all returned to your home, looking behind you to the books held by the King. The King! Geez, you felt like you just escaped with your life. You heard your mother being summoned to go to your father and it had been nearly an hour of them talking.

"(Y/N)." You heard a whisper from outside your bedroom window as you wandered around it. You opened the shutters and your brother's head barely could look over the sill from where he stood on the narrow edge of the building's platform base.

"What's happening?" You whispered back.

"A servant just brought them our family registry."

"What?" Why the heck would they need that?! Unless…

"You think he's going to court me?" Your legs felt week, you weren't sure what to make of it. Your father had desperately wanted you married, but not enough to submit you to the palace. A life of luxury and prestige wasn't actually very safe. Most adversaries tended to target the women closest to the king since they were easier targets. You knew the King was unwed, and that the palace officials were just as fed up with him as your father was with you. Sure, you would rather marry someone for love, but that was hard to do as a noble. But if you did…that meant you could have access to the King's library. Was that his plan to let you translate his foreign books without it being improper? Honestly, you were fine with it. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If marrying the king gave you access to even more knowledge and learning, than you would happily do it.

~~~

After the long meeting, the King left, and your mother came to inform you of the results. You were right, he wanted you to be his wife. But marrying a king to be the queen was much more intense than just being a concubine. Sure, the king had a lot of say, but so did his ministers and the Queen Dowager, his mother. Normally there was a long selection process, but instead you were brought to the palace and thoroughly analyzed by palace officials. They interviewed you rather extensively, then finally, his mother entered. After more questions, she left with the officials and you were left to sit in the pavilion, looking at the water, uncomfortable in your nicest hanbok ensemble. All of your fanciest accessories were in your hair, on your goreum was a heavy norigae, and heavy jade earrings sat in your ears. You twisted the jade ring on your finger in nervousness, feeling like you were waiting for hours. Soon though, the Queen Dowager reentered along with a few handmaidens and a eunuch. You had been approved of.

~~~

A grand dowry was sent to your family's estate, and in return your belongings were sent in as well. You were moved into a palace set aside for the future queen, and you were beyond grateful that your chest of books made it to your new home. Waiting for the actual ceremony and coronation, you were put through hours of etiquette training and lessons. Over the short time it took for you to learn everything, and have the ceremony and coronation performed, the King had spent a considerable amount of time with you. Every minute he could spare. He didn't want you, nor himself, to marry a stranger. Never having been in love, you were sure your feelings were either quite similar if not the predecessor for love. In a fleeting whisper he told you his name was Chan, of course it was part of his birth name rather than what he was crowned king with. He preferred you call him that though, even if you only could in private. When he could, he would bring a few of his foreign books for you to look at, but he said there wasn't time for you start the translations before all of the ceremonies. Chan seemed just as passionate about knowledge as you were, and that made you fall harder. And it appeared to work that way for him as well.

The day before the wedding, as he left before the time was improper, he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth with his soft lips. Your face blossomed red you were sure, and he chuckled gently to himself as he left.

The wedding itself was…a mess. Well, figuratively and only to you. You felt like you were being directed as a puppet going through so many specific rites and rituals. The most nerve-wracking part of the whole thing was being before so many people. Your tutor was proud you had learned all of your etiquette so well and you were ninety percent sure you did everything just right. By the time night fell, you were beyond exhausted. You weren't sure if you were more excited about your marriage, which felt more real thanks to your blooming feelings, or the future translation work. It was nice though that your love of scholarly pursuits didn't turn him away like all of your other potential suitors.

Finally, though, everything was more or less complete. You were wandering through the large room of the king's quarters, everything even fancier than where you had been. You picked at the white fabric of your sokchima, feeling naked despite being completely covered. Your hair was still in a chignon, the golden decorative binyeo holding it up made your head feel heavy. It was strange to have your hair up like that, but you were going to have to get used to it. For some reason, it felt nice to have that weight, signifying you were married, you honestly didn't want to take it out as much as you did. So, it stayed. You had bathed, rather, been washed by maids before going to the king's quarters. You presumed he too was washing up, and the longer he took, the more nervous you got. Finally, the side door that led further into the palace where the bath hall was, opened. Your heart thudded against your rib cage as you saw the King enter, also in white garments. He no longer had his headdress on, only the manggeon he wore under his crown was there. You wondered how long his hair was when down.

"My Queen." He smiled and you bit your lip, looking around almost like you were checking to see if anyone was around.

"What are you looking for, (Y/N)?" He stepped closer, hand going to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. All the lessons that had been drilled into you made you want to look away, but if he was okay with it…

"We're really alone?" Not even his Eunuch was there, he followed him everywhere as per his job description.

"Yes, my love." Your breath hitched, the term of affection hitting your heart, and you stepped just a bit closer.

"W-we-" He stepped once more, his lips placing a delicate peck on your forehead. Still not able to get any words out, his kisses moved to your cheekbone, the side of your mouth, then his hand cupped your jaw, tipping your head up. Your eyes met his and you couldn't keep yours from flitting to his lips. Chan smirked, and you gasped as he kissed you, hard. Your teeth clacked against each other at the force and your head swam, trying desperately to match his pace. You hadn't been kissed before, not like that. Chan himself had given you a few small pecks, but this was different. He was claiming you.

His strong hands gripped your waist, one sneaking down your back to pull you closer, the other sneaking up the ties of your sokchima. The hand on your back went even lower, gripping the flesh of your butt and you huffed, Chan's tongue sneaking its way in your mouth. When he withdrew, you heaved in breaths, heart racing and with a final tug, your sokchima fell to the floor, leaving you bare. You shivered, goosebumps rising on your skin, but his next actions distracted you from the embarrassment of being bare. He undid the ties of his own garments and as the white fabric pooled at his feet, your eyes rapidly danced over him. You were convinced he was molded directly by the deity of sex, because he was gorgeous.

"Oh." You sighed and he huffed a laugh, moving closer, taking your hands in his, and bringing them to the ties of his sokbaji. Your hands brushed over him through the cloth, and you froze.

"A-are you…?"

"No, love. But," his hands ran over the bare skin of your back, pulling you to him, your naked breasts pressing to him.

"I'll get there." Chan whispered in your ear, then he ran his tongue around the ridge, sucking on your earlobe. You whimpered, turning your head to allow him access, fingers clenching the hem on his pants. His lips then moved to your neck, laying searing kisses on the flesh, strong fingers digging into your skin, and when you were pulled even closer, you felt his cock hardening in his pants.

"Come with me, my love." He pulled away and you pouted in disappointment, making him laugh. The room spun as he yanked you to him, lightly shoving you on the raised bed. You huffed, then squeaked when he grabbed your ankles, yanking to the edge of the platform, kneeling on the floor below.

"W-Wait, Chan-!" You tried to close your legs, hide yourself from him, but he was too strong, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread.

"So cute." He hummed and your entire body jerked, back arching as you felt his tongue swipe through your folds, the sensation almost overwhelming. It was hard to get words out since you could barely take in air, your body immediately catching on fire, blood boiling. You heard him hum as he tasted you, and you flinched when his nose brushed your clit.

"C-Chan, it's too much!" You shuddered, not sure how to handle the sensation.

"I need to get you ready, love, I don't want to hurt you." He finished his statement by wiggling his tongue inside you. The foreign sensation made you clench, and he rubbed your tense thighs with his thumbs.

"Relax, pretty girl." You tried to do as he asked, taking measured breaths, whimpering when his tongue left you, flicking your button again. Heat pooled in your belly, rising fast and you logically knew what was coming, but had never felt it before.

"I-I…fuck!" Your head tossed back, and he groaned at the crass word leaving you. Chan kissed your clit and that sent you over the edge, wind roaring in your ears with your pulse, and you barely registered him filling you with a finger.

"You're so fucking tight sweetheart." The curse word riled you up more than it even did when you said it for him. He helped your ride out the orgasm with that finger, each press against your back wall seeming to draw out your climax. Finally, the waves dulled, then stopped, and you finally recognized his finger inside you. Because he did it when he did, it didn't hurt, but it felt weird.

"Oh, you're so good." He smiled wide, his normal warn grin was hot with lust. You mewled when he started to pump his finger, the wet squelch of your slick and release seemed to be louder than anything else.

"That got you nice and wet for me, but you're too tight." His thumb barely brushed your clit and your pussy clenched, body jerking again, it almost hurt.

"Sorry, love." He continued with the single digit and at some point, he decided to continue and you let out a shuddering breath when he added a second. That…didn't hurt per se, the slight burn of the stretch was somehow more pleasurable than painful, and you wondered how much his dick would make you sting.

"Oh, oh my." You tried to hold back a whiny moan when his fingers wiggled and spread, getting you further prepared, the same pleasurable feeling starting to build back.

"Ah!" Chan added a third finger, and you lifted your head to look at him, one knee resting on the bed so he could kneel over you. Eyes flitting down, you noticed the tent in his white pants, and you swallowed hard. You didn't have any metric to go by since you had never been with or even seen a man naked, but-

"That won't fit." You whimpered, not even seeing him bare yet. Chan huffed a surprised laugh, looking at himself.

"I promise it will." His fingers crooked up again, hitting some intense spot inside you and you shivered at the sudden intensity.

"N-no, no, no!" You whined when he removed his fingers, the pleasure had begun to crest and even if it was overwhelming, it did feel good.

"Hold on, love, I'll fill you back up." You propped on your elbows to watch him, the tie of his sokbaji coming undone by his fingers, then the garment fell. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

"Won't fit." You gasped out and he had a hard time controlling his smug grin.

"Let's see about that." He scooped you up in his arms, moving you up the bed so your head could rest on the pillow. The cool silk of the bedding did nothing to quell the fire Chan had set on your skin, especially not when he propped himself over you.

"I love you." He leaned down, nose rubbing over yours and you giggled at the innocent gesture.

"I love you too." Your hands cupped his face, and he kissed you again, gentler than the first. Distracting you with the kiss, he hitched one of your knees over his elbow, his free arm bringing his hands back to your slick cunt. His fingers ran through your arousal, then he pumped his fist over his hard cock, bringing the fat head to your entrance. Chan pulled back from the kiss, bringing your hands up to his shoulders.

"Dig your nails in if you have to." You should have taken it as a warning, not really sure what he meant. When his cock breached your core, the heated burn seared through not just your cunt, but all the way through you. Your back arched, and your mouth hung open in a quiet scream. You couldn't tell whether it hurt or was such an intense pleasure your body malfunctioned. His cock pressed deeper, and you could feel his pulse inside you.

"So tight, fuck, hmm, love your just perfect." He groaned, relishing the sting of your nails digging into his skin. After what felt like an eternity, he bottomed out, the head of his dick kissing your womb.

"Y-you're in my throat." You gasped, trying not to clench around him too much, cunt stinging but weeping, a drop of your slick hitting the bedding.

"Does it hurt?" His hand brushed some sweat-dampened strands of hair from your brow, and you shuddered through some breaths.

"I-I don't know." You had never felt anything like it before, obviously, and your brain seemed to be stopping and starting again over and over. He was being so patient, letting you adjust, but he shifted his weight differently, changing the angle slightly and the sting faded, pleasure rising, and you couldn't get words out again. He must have noticed the change in your gummy walls' pulsing, because he grinded into you slightly and, stronger than before, you came.

"Woah." Chan forced himself to breathe through your orgasm, the tight vice of your pussy nearly sending him over the edge and gushes of your slick shined on your skin as well as his. Your vision dotted with stars and your head swam, you finally were able to gasp for air, panting as you returned to reality.

"Are you okay, love?" He stroked your cheek with his thumb, and you held his hand to your face with your own. You nodded, swallowing a buildup of saliva.

"Y-yes, you…you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Please~!" Your like whimper heightened into a moan as he pulled back just a bit, going slowly back in to make sure it didn't hurt. It didn't. Sure, it felt like he was carving his cock through you, but it was more than good.

"Tell me, sweet, if I hurt you." The next thrust, he pulled back a bit further, and back in harder.

"Please, Chan, you- fuck!" He had picked up the pace just a bit, still going fairly slow, but the stretch of his fat cock was more than enough stimulation.

"D-don't-"

"Don't what, love?"

"Don't…oh, fuck, please, don't stop. Just-!" Your toes curled, throwing your head back, nails digging into the bedding as he pulled out about halfway, then buried inside you hard. He sat up more, slinging your other leg over his elbow as well, rolling his hips against yours. Chan's eyes skated all over you, beautiful and bare below him, and when he got to your face he groaned. Your eyes were hazy, mouth open, drool pooling from the corners of your lips. You had never felt anything even close to the pleasure he was wreaking on you. You couldn't think, and you seemed to lose strength in your body, the crest of another orgasm building.

"Shit- can't hold back anymore love." He grunted and you didn't have enough available thought process to react. He moved his hands to your thighs, pinning your knees up by your shoulders, then he pulled his fat cock out nearly all the way, and started to pound into you. Tears rose in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling, little squeals of delight forced out of you with each thrust and your cunt spasmed. Chan just thundered through your orgasm, not stopping or slowing and your eyes rolled back.

"Fuck, you're just perfect love." He huffed a laugh, "oh, I can't wait to fuck you full!" All you could focus on was the heat of his dick and how much hotter your womb would feel full of his cum.

"Pl-please! Chan, please, fuck!" You gasped, his pace growing unsteady, and he finally fucked as deep as he could, hot ropes of cum filling you and painting your cunt white. Your belly was on fire and a combined glob of both of your releases dripped out from where your bodies met. As Chan panted, looking down at your fucked out state, he smiled.

"You're my wife now, only you."

Daenggi - the ribbon that was tied around a unmarried girl's braid. Sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over their heads. Mun - Joseon Era Korean currency Chon - historical unit of measurement, close to an inch. Dogil - Korean word for Germany, might not be completely accurate for the time. Hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. Goreum - the ties that fastened the top of a hanbok. Norigae - accessories that were tied to the goreum of women's handboks Sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. Binyeo - the long pin that would hold a woman's bun up, mostly used for married women. Manggeon - the mesh-like headband men wore to hold their hair in place. Sokbaji - pants-like under-garment, mostly worn by women actually…

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[fushitoru]

WE'RE COOL FOR THE SUMMER !

PAIRING: beach boy!gojo x reader SUMMARY: on your way to meet your girlfriends on your summer vacay, you encounter an unforeseen obstacle: parallel parking. It’s good you have a hot beach boy ready to help you park! maybe you’ll give him a kiss or a bj or two to thank him for his effort… WARNINGS: minors dni, fluff, smut, oral (m receiving), meet cute, not beta read at all, first fic kinda nervous

“I really don’t think I’m going to make that…” you mutter to yourself, frantically checking the distance from the car already stationed behind you as you back up. Your anxiety spikes as you keep glancing at the road ahead to see if there were any impending cars. If there are any cars that come while I’m struggling through this parallel parking, I might as well kill myself. That might be faster for both of us.

You bite your lip in frustration as you try a combination of backing up, turning the wheel, going forward, and turning the wheel again, concentrated on inching your way into the tight parking space. After being in the state of half being inside the parking space and half out, you take a break to bang your head against the wheel, cursing Shoko for leaving you alone when she insisted on catching up with you at the hotel when she saw a pizza place she’s wanted to go to. The Hawaiian pizza she abandoned you for better be really fucking good.

As you ready for yourself to struggle through finishing parking properly, your soul almost leaves your body as you hear an assertive knock against your window. You pinch your eyes for a bit, steeling yourself for the mortification you’re about to bear, and then turn. Your eyes widen.

Looking at you through your window was a tall man, hunched over with an amused smile. He had blue eyes and white hair---hair you would’ve normally thought looked weird on people because you refused to dye yours with anything but naturally occurring colors, but it just worked on him. Without making him look like he was a weird otaku cosplaying an anime character.

Needless to say, you’re nervous and feel your face burning up as you roll down your window. “Hi, I know that I’m taking up a lot of space, but I’m just struggling through parking this right now. I’m really sorry. They did not teach this to me in driver’s ed---”

“Hey, hey. Calm down. You’re okay,” he chuckled. Wow, his voice was deep. Not crazy deep that he sounded like those TikTok guys straining their voice for their thirst traps or anything, but enough to definitely be deemed a panty wetter. “I’m Satoru. Let me park your car for you.”

Oh. Well, that was helpful. Kind of overwhelmed, you choke out a “oh, thank you” and get out of the car. As soon as you open your door, you blush at the rest of Satoru----he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt in the sluttiest way possible with some shorts. You covered your nose in case you got a nosebleed at the sight of his shirt open, glistening abs on full display.

As he got in, you awkwardly stood by his car, parked perfectly behind you. You gaped as he effortlessly got your car out of the weird orientation you had put it in and parked it, a perfect distance between the cars surrounding it.

He shifted the gears to park it and got out of the car, walking up to you. “So…what’s a girl like you doing out here?” He places his arm on top of his car, effectively caging you between his cars and his bare chest.

You cursed yourself as you began to feel yourself burning up in his oh so close gaze. “Uh, I’m here on a trip with my friends.” You were finding it hard to find a place to look at. Eye contact was impossible with piercing blue eyes looking at you, lidded, and you would probably face charges if you stole any more glances at his chest. You decided to keep looking at his biceps.

He smiled confidently. He knew he was hot, and maybe he even had pussy vision that consulted him on what to do around you because wow you sure were nervous and going crazy down there. “Where’s your boyfriend? Can’t believe he left you to park on your own, baby.”

Oh. “I don’t have one.” His gaze widened imperceptibly, and, slowly, he lowered his gaze to rake over you. Meanwhile, you were freaking out. No one this hot had ever flirted with you, except for some frat boys that were trying to get into your pants during college. You weren’t such a fan of STDs, though.

“You sure? It’s hard for me to believe a pretty girl like you isn’t cuffed up.” You would’ve scoffed at how obvious he was being, but you hadn’t gotten laid in a long time. And this was your ticket out of your dry spell.

It was time to lock in.

You put a hand on his shoulder and leaned back onto his car, flashing him a smile. “You know what? I really want to…show you my gratitude. Can I give you anything?”

Suddenly, you felt his face inching closer to you. His voice was breathy when he said, “Yeah, I can think of something.” He was looking at your lips, and you could feel his breath fanning your face. Clearly waiting for your consent, you pulled him in both arms to lock your lips together.

Satoru grabbed your waist and forced his leg between your thighs. You whimpered when you felt his knee rubbing you directly on your pussy as you continued kissing him. For stability, you started dragging your hands up and down his torso, finally having an excuse to feel up his abs.

You two went back and forth for a few minutes before pulling away, panting. You faux pout, trailing your pointer finger over his chest. “You know, I don’t really think that showed enough thanks. Can I give you a little something more inside my car?” You look up at him with doe eyes only to see him with a wide gaze and blushing face. He nods, and you grab his arm to drag him into your backseat.

“Aw, give it a little kiss, baby. It’s so excited to see you,” Gojo remarks down at you, but soon afterwards groans, throwing his head back when you give his tip a little kiss. You start kissing his cock all over, making sure to look at him as he falls apart over your mouth. Fondling his balls, you give his tip gentle licks, teasing him. And it clearly agitates him---he starts thrusting up, trying to get himself inside your mouth.

“Please, baby, don’t be mean,” he whines, “Be a good girl and open your mouth.” Done teasing him, you fully envelope him in your hot mouth, bobbing your head and trying to take him in.

He hisses as soon as he feels your mouth on him and starts blabbering. “Wow, baby, your mouth is so good. So tight and hot f’ me.” Blinking away your tears, you finally take your eyes away from his dick to look up, panties immediately sullied from the sight above you: him looking down, face strained and hot from the pleasure he was receiving. His abs clenched every time you took him In further, your hot breaths through your nose fanning his pelvis.

His hand comes down, stroking your head gently as you continue taking him in your throat. “You’re thankful, baby?” You nodded. “Lemme grab your hair for a bit, I’ll feel really thanked.” You bunch your hair in a ponytail, giving him the opportunity to grab it. He does as promised; he grabs your hair by the scalp and starts moving your head over his cock, setting his own pace with your mouth.

You can tell by his ragged breaths that he’s getting close; you start gently touching his balls again, which sends him over the edge. With a choked take it, baby, he spills inside your mouth. You, of course, take it in. As soon as he’s down from being overwhelmed from his high, you open your mouth to show him the cum you have on your tongue. He groans upon the sight, and you swallow it. He pulls you up and slowly gives you kisses across your face, and you reciprocate. After another heated make out session, you exchange numbers and a goodbye kiss.

Locking your car and walking out to finally enter your hotel,  you fantasize about meeting up with him later to do more debauched things. You were really excited for this summer.

a/n I might do more parts of this if people want more! I have some other ideas for jjk men that I’ve been dying to write so I will be doing those too :3

also sorry for any mistakes it’s unedited bc I got impatient and wanted to post it

reblog and comment if u liked it!

[take-it-on-the-run]

And I Love Her

Sam Winchester x Reader

The reader and Dean are being tortured by Gordon Walker because of her relationship with Sam, and all they can do is hope he'll get there in time.

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: Torture, graphic depictions of being cut into, descriptions of gore and severe bodily harm, Sam Winchester is out of character depending on who you ask

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Dean Winchester, Gordon Walker

@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! Can I request a Dean and/or Sam Winchester (sepperate) x fem! Reader set in season two, with an established relationship, where it's like when Gordon kidnaps Dean, but instead of just Dean he also kidnaps reader. (I can imagine if it's a Dean x reader Gordon uses reader to get Dean to not try anything, and if it's a Sam x reader Sam just going even more ballistic than he originally does in the show). Thank you!!"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Beatles title. My first Sam fic! Honestly, it was really hard writing this one for some reason, and after five revisions I'm still not completely in love with it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and heed the warnings! Do not read if this will make you uncomfortable!

Sam Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Gordon stared blankly at the wall in front of him while you tugged at the ropes on your wrists. A bandana was tied tightly around your mouth that tasted like dirt and your own blood. Dean was tied up to the left of you in a similar state, and both of you were staring down Gordon like it would kill him.

Traps lined every entrance from the doors to every small crack in the wall. Sam was powerful, but you doubted he could break through solid brick. Grenades, tripwire, even a shotgun trap that looked like something straight out of a movie; Gordon wanted Sam dead at all costs.

You knew your boyfriend would come to you and Dean’s rescue, but damn was this cutting it close. Gordon had already tried his best with Dean, but when it was your turn, he took his sweet-ass time.

He punched you, kicked you, even spit on you. Now, you tried your best to not scream as he dragged a knife against the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder.

You failed.

Biting down on the bandana, a muffled scream ripped through your lungs. You tried focusing on Dean, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes which were spilling over with more tears than you thought were in your body.

You could feel your blood dripping down your back and your chest, slithering its way to the floor as Gordon wiped his blade with the rag in his back pocket. He wrenched your head to the side, forcing the fresh wound close and for more tears to streak down your face.

He repeated his process on you a few times.

Your arms.

Your hands.

Your legs.

Every time somehow hurt more than the last, the hunter pulling open your skin and snapping it back together like a rubber band. Your vision was spotty, but you held steadfast to the thought that your boyfriend would be here any minute to save the day like he always did.

Gordon took a step back, wiping sweat and blood from his face and arms. He looked down at you with a glare that you’ve held plenty of times for the less-than-human creatures in the world. You guessed that, in his eyes, you, Sam, and Dean, were held in a similar regard.

Snaps.

Taunts.

Cracks.

Screams.

All because you fell in love with someone born under a bad sign.

You didn’t regret meeting Sam. Kissing him, falling for him, even the idea of just having him in your life was enough for your mind to justify the situation you were in. It wasn’t his fault you were having your life drained out of you minute by minute, and you hoped he would be smart enough to know that.

“Sam’s going to be here any minute, you know. Gotta convince himself he’s the hero of this story, and I’m the big,” Gordon turned to you, knife in hand, “bad, evil dragon. But I’m not the one with demon blood, am I, Y/N?” He placed the edge of the blade against the bottom of your chin. You could feel the cold steel heavy against your skin, and any sudden move would surely spill even more of your blood.

Dean glared at Gordon, his face shades of purple and blue, which mirrored the pain you felt along your entire body. Gordon dug the knife into the bottom of your chin, piercing your skin ever so slightly, but not enough to fatally wound you. Your mind was trying hard to hold onto the cracks of reality that remained in your vision; the smell of the dingy house you were in, the feeling of the carpet making contact with your boots, anything that wouldn’t send your consciousness reeling over was enough of an anchor for you to hang onto.

Gordon walked away from the two of you, returning to his position of peering out one of the boarded-up windows in wait for Sam. You glanced at Dean, which granted you a glance back from him. His eyes were dry, but they held enough behind them to let you know what he was thinking. Sam was going to burst into this booby-trapped hellhole, and Dean could do nothing but blame himself.

It’s all your fault, really, a thought that smashed through what you knew was the truth said.

This isn’t any of our faults, you told it back, wanting to tell Dean the same. Sam wasn’t to blame for the two of you being taken, and neither of you was at fault for being used as bait; it all landed in the hands of the rogue hunter who deemed himself holier-than-thou.

Though you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you were starting to resemble a bloody pulp more than a human being. Dean could barely look your way for longer than a second, and deep cuts that surged whether you moved or not continued to scrape away at your consciousness.

Gordon disappeared, and as you tried to turn your head to follow him, you felt a burning pain across your chest. Highlighted by a spurt of blood splattering over your thighs, you wanted to vomit. The top of your head started to feel like it was being lifted off from the rest of your skull, and the black spots in your vision connected at the edges of your eyes.

You grunted, head going slack and opening wounds on the back of your neck. Either spit, blood, or bile dripped out of your mouth, but at that moment you didn’t care- the black at the corners of your eyes bled together, and all you could do was limply hope Sam would find you.

You blinked, slowly, noticing light creeping in from the boarded-up windows. The second thing you noticed was the searing pain in your body, coupled with grunting and what you could guess was a well-landed punch.

“Y/N!” Someone called out to you, but you could barely lift your head to meet their voice. The bandana in your mouth was pulled away and hands cupped your face, warming your skin that was ice cold after losing so much blood.

The hands left your face and moved to the ropes at your wrists, cutting them off quickly and placing your arms in your lap. You forced your eyes up high enough to see it was your hero, Sam, standing before you with tears starting to fill his eyes. If your face would’ve let your smile, you would’ve, but every movement flashed the memory of Gordon cutting into you.

Gordon.

“Where’s-” You managed to sputter out through a sore jaw and a severely dry mouth.

“Dead,” Sam answered coldly. For the first time, you noticed his knuckles were a hue of bright purple, complimented with blood splattering up his arm. Sam moved your arms around his neck and picked you up as gently as he could.

“Dean’s already in the car patching himself up. I’m going to try and lay you down in the back seat so we can get to the closest hospital. I left Gordon in the room by the first door, so keep your head to my chest if you don’t want to see him, okay?” He asked softly. The tears that were in his eyes had faded slightly, but you could see the emotions he’d no doubt try to hide later on. Regret, blame, guilt - the more he looked at you, the more you could sense that your battered state was tearing away at his consciousness. You wanted to reach out, hold his face, and tell him you’d be okay, you’d survived worse, that it wasn’t his fault, but your thoughts were halted by Sam stepping past Gordon’s body.

If you could call it a body, that is.

His nose was sunken into his face enough that his eyes were slightly popping out of their sockets. His mouth had more gums than teeth, which were scattered around the room. He was lying against a dresser, and his limbs were spread out in the wrong directions. You thought you saw a bone, but before you could look closer, Sam turned and shut the door behind you.

Sam laid you across the back seats of the Impala, trying his best to be gentle with the abhorrent number of cuts across your body. You couldn’t guess how the hospital wasn’t going to ask questions, but you hoped the brothers would figure that out. Your head laid in Sam’s lap, and he looked out the window as Dean buried Gordon.

“Sam,” you slowly moved one of your arms to his face, bringing his attention to you, “thank you. You saved us both. You had to do what you had to do.”

Sam smiled but still didn’t say a word as he dipped down and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You wanted to be able to tell him everything your racing mind was coming up with but were beaten by the overwhelming need to not move. Dean climbed into the front seat, beating the gas pedal to the floor and hitting the highway as Sam ran his fingers comfortingly through your hair.

[anika-ann]

A Series of (Un)Fortunate Events - S.R.

Part 1 of 2

Type: two-shot, idiots-in-love, feel-good fic

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 7,3k

Summary:  It's just a bunch of Avengers and SHIELD agents who often cooperate on missions - hanging out and getting to know each other better on a camping trip. What could possibly go wrong?

A few things. A few things could and they all seem to have you at the centre. Luckily, you have a hero in shining armour to help you in the time of need.

Warnings: allusions to NSFW, minor injuries, mention of misogyny, brief reference to PTSD, language, attempt at humour, FLUFF , Steve being a menace

A/N: written for the Essie’s Summer Lovin’ 300 Follower Celebration. Congrats @bigtreefest and thank you for hosting 💕 I have chosen multiple prompts - in this one, you shall find “why’s it…sticky?” and modified “here, you can share with me”. I hope to finish the second part in time 😁

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; enjoy y'all 🥰 Several Agent of SHIELD characters are involved - I don't think you need any knowledge of the show to read this

The afternoon North Carolina sun warmed your skin pleasantly, even as you found yourself panting after the having climbed up the hill you. The backpack with an attached sleeping bag and a tent pack was growing heavier and heavier on your shoulders with every step, but the view and the company – most of it anyway – were certainly worth it.

Everyone seemed affected by the fresh air and exercise the Great Smokey Mountains provided, the atmosphere light and content as this was, for most, the first trip in a long time that had nothing to do with a mission.

Sure, one could argue there were some strings attached, as the ‘mission’ was to solidify relationships within the group – several Avengers and several SHIELD agents who were often outsourced for Avengers-level missions – but still: no one was shooting at you. And you wouldn’t have to write a report. That counted for something. For a lot, in fact.

Plus, the path was the goal. The destination, while set precisely according to Steve’s plan, might as well be just about anywhere.

You glanced at him as he walked by your side, smiling absently. The corners of his lips only twitched higher as he noticed you watching him, his gaze flickering to you as well.

He looked as if he was born to do this. A halo of dark blond hair around his head ruffled by the wind, sunlight painting them almost golden. The heaviest backpack of all sitting on his wide shoulders, straps around his broad chest and thin waist. Legs clad in light track pants that hugged his thighs and ass in the best way possible, a downright magnetic sight--- no.

Uh-huh, no.

No thoughts of that sort. You had forbidden yourself from that, at least for the duration of this trip, because you had known Steve would be a literal walking thirst-trap, the sheer happiness surrounding him making his glow ten times brighter. You had forbidden yourself from thinking like this, because this was not an appropriate observation to make about a colleague, a superior no less, even as everybody else probably thought along the same lines.

It didn’t matter that you wanted to throw hands at the mere idea of someone else making that observation as well. You didn’t exactly have the right to do that and it was a lost fight before it even started. Steve Rogers was simply too beautiful and essentially perfect in all his imperfections, and god knew that those imperfection had nothing to with his body. Ass included-

Gaze quickly snapping up back to his face, you found him smiling at you warmly, a soft dusting of freckles adorning his cheeks from the prolonged exposure to sun. The same phenomenon could be observed on his bare arms; a constellation of freckles, where angels had kissed their kindest, prettiest and most loyal creation; a constellation of places where you’d love to press your lips and linger, breathe in the scent of his skin and taste it.

God, he was breathtaking and all kinds of alluring. The nature around you was too, sure, the smell of pines and sandy rocks whispering of vacations and good times, but the way he-

“Whoa!” you yelped as you suddenly found yourself tumbling towards the ground, foot having slipped on a rock, you supposed.

Hands outstretched, you had no chance to break the fall, only to slow it, the burden on your back completely changing your momentum.

The second your palms as much as brushed the rocky floor, you were being held by your waist so firmly that none of your actual weight landed on the ground. You would recognize the arms holding you anywhere – just like the scent of sandal wood, musk, man and comfort, suddenly wrapping around you.

The safest place on Earth.

Steve’s arms.

Your stomach made a little flip-flop as his hands squeezed you gently and helped you up, only releasing you when his eyes found yours, silently asking if you were okay.

You responded with an embarrassed smile.

“Whoa, you okay?” Daisy rushed to your side, bless her, breaking the brief moment you had allowed yourself to bask in the sweet worry in Steve’s gaze and in the heat his body was radiating, despite the fact you could feel everyone staring at the newly nominated klutz of the group of superspies. You.

Heat of embarrassment flooded your skin under everyone’s scrutiny – and more so under the judgement in Agent Hopkinson’s glare, the jerk. Then again, you could hardly blame him for looking down on you right now.

Allegedly one of the deadliest agents known to the world; bested by a few rocks on a hiking trail and Steve Rogers’s smile.

You chuckled self-deprecatingly, quietly thanking Steve and turning to Daisy to assure her that besides your pride, nothing had been seriously wounded.

“I’m fine,” you said, scratching your forehead with a poor attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Must have missed a step, I don’t even know how…”

You did know how. You knew it precisely. You hadn’t been watching your step, too mesmerized by the beauty of your favourite Captain – and favourite person in the world. The man with the most honest, goodest, fiercest and most beautiful soul you had ever met, your closest friend.

“I do,” Agent Melinda May commented dryly, a pointed look aimed at your feet, revealing the culprit – and making you wish the Earth could swallow you, especiallysince it was her, the second in command at SHIELD – and one of the most admirable women in history of anything. And she had just seen you, an agent for both Avengers and SHIELD, a master of martial arts, to trip on nothing like a five-year-old. For the same reason too. “Your shoelaces are undone.”

“…thanks. And sorry. Go ahead. I think I can tie my shoelaces on my own,” you chuckled again, swallowing the shame even as you were among friends. Albeit some of them more reluctant than others.

“Clearly not,” Agent Hopkinson remarked, not missing the opportunity to belittle you, making you sigh as you crouched down, taking extreme care not to as much as wobble despite the heavy backpack.

Case on point, you supposed.

Having worked for SHIELD for years now, acting as the main liaison for situations where Avengers needed help, be it due to too many hostiles or the nature of the job leaning more towards spy-work that alien-invasion-work, your general experience was that tolerance and cooperation were the way. Some people were less pleasant than others, that much was true, but one should handle disagreements, various personality traits and different views on life. You certainly could; your approach to conflict, your supposedly calming presence and search for harmony in a team and the calm composure you maintained under pressure to quickly weigh your options, had even earned you your codename, Libra.

You genuinely believed tuning down an attitude for the sake of the mission was the custom, the golden rule.

And then you encountered Agent Martin Hopkinson. He was the exception. And a pain in your ass.

He got along alright with most people despite his arrogance; but you and him were a trainwreck happening in slow motion. He did not like you. Whether it was jealousy of your position, misogyny, or both, or something completely else, you wouldn’t know. But he was bitter and biting, always looking for a flaw, always making snidey comments.

You could handle that – an insult here, a mean comment there. After all, you could take a punch, a stab, a gunshot wound. You could take down men twice your size with your bare hands and just a little wit, if you tried hard enough. You had faced soldiers, rapists, murderers; Agent Hopkinson was but a small hindrance, annoyance on legs. But by god, your fists itched whenever he opened his mouth. And the feeling was mutual.

However, as a professional, you worked hard not to reciprocate his aggression, even as it only ever remained verbal; the same could not be said about him. And he didn’t care zilch about who heard him be ‘smart’ with you either, which, in turn, led to several reprimands; and on one delightful occasion, to Steve almost breaking his jaw when he heard him utter a comment about Coulson pimping out the pet agent again, clearly meaning you. The wrath Steve had showed was nothing hort of holy, and holy was the miracle that Hopkinson was still alive; the fact he barely toned down his attitude was just idiocy.

But had you mention Steve was an angel? A fiercely loyal protective friend, a gentleman, who might swear on occasion and be a little shit par excellence, but god should help anyone whose behaviour towards others offended him. He might be an angel, but was an avenging one.

A caring one too.

As soon as you stood up again, Steve was carefully cradling the backs of your hands, examining the teeny scrapes over your palms with about five droplets of blood in total, frowny gaze flickering to your knee which you hadn’t even realized you had grazed too.

“We should disinfect that.”

“Steve, I’m fine,” you laughed, even as you let him examine the barely-there bleeding, knowing there was no use trying to resist. “Thank you for caring, but it’s literally just a scratch… I’ve had worse.”

He shook his head, his expression darkening a bit. “That’s not comforting and you know it. And any wound, if infected, can be dangerous – I know I don’t have to tell you that.”

You knew instantly what instance he was referring too, a small shudder running up your spine. Yet, the rational part of you argued that there was no comparison, even if the cut on your arm over a month back had not been all that deeper and wider than this.

“That was literally a poisoned blade, Steve-“

“We were about to take one more break before reaching the destination anyway,” he interrupted you, unrelenting. “Let’s head up to that clearing and we’ll rest for a bit. I’ll take care of it, okay?”

“Steve-“

“I’ve got the first aid kit,” Bobbi uttered nonchalantly as she passed you, joining the others who had gone ahead already.

You sighed. Bobbi Morse – an agent with a clever sense of humour, sharp tongue and no-nonsense attitude, a good friend – and she was using all of her powers against you. Wicked.

“It’s just a-“

“Captain’s orders,” she almost sing-sang, earning a grin from Daisy who only shrugged, as if to confirm her words.

You sighed, rolling your eyes; acutely not aware that Steve was still holding your hands in his and your body was heating up from inside at the prolonged contact – particularly your chest and something deep within your belly.

You looked up at him, mildly annoyed and rather amused at his insistence and protectiveness. And even though you wouldn't admit that out loud, touched.

“You’re overbearing. You’re lucky I like you,” you scolded him in a whisper.

He only grinned, his worried gaze clearing and lightning up at your feigned outrage, and squeezed your hands before letting go.

“I love you too. Let’s go.”

You bit your cheek as you nodded, reminding yourself for at least the tenth time since you had set off hiking: friends. The keyword of this trip was ‘friends’.

It was just really hard to actually remember that when Steve looked at you like that, talked like that, and you could still feel the warm imprint of his hands on yours.

Steve Rogers was a man impossible not to fall for; from almost absurd handsomeness to even more absurd goodness he lived by, from his sharp wits to effective moves, from the crinkles in his eyes when he smiled to the tenderness in his touch. His sense of humour equalled to the one of duty, his drive and determination in leading interlacing with a soul of an artist and a simple man who appreciated the most ordinary things.

You had clicked instantly; your friendship bloomed almost effortlessly, working alongside him making for many opportunities to spend time together. Despite barely having met about three months ago, the times you owed him your life for were numerous; and the few times he owed you his, even as there was no such thing as keeping score, only strengthened your bond. Moments where you thought you wouldn’t make it out. Long nights at motels or in a stake-out cars, filled with mindless chatter, profound talks and comfortable silences. His goddamn smiles alone, always feeling a little warmer, fonder, when directed at you.

The fact he had quickly slipped into a habit of calling you Lee, a nickname derived from your codename with a wordless implication of you being his refuge, with that damn smile on his plush lips, was making something in your ribcage tremble with affection.

You had fallen hard. But who wouldn’t? You were only human.

And his proximity, his friendship, his affection, they were most precious to you; no matter which form they’d have, you’d take it.

Even if it meant inappropriate thoughts and your heart racing fast enough to collapse from exhaustion when he cleaned your scraped knee and palms with such care and focus one might believe they were fatal wounds.

Your heart would tremble less if he hadn’t kneeled in front of you as he did so, but you supposed Steve Rogers was just that kind of deadly. He cradled your hands in his huge ones as if they were as fragile as butterfly wings, smiling when he was done; and grinning when you said Thank you, nurse Rogers, the words carrying both humour and respect for his late mother.

His smile resembled the sun so much you almost missed how the actual sunrays grew less and less warm. It was only a few minutes later – every one of them making you aware of the either knowing or incredulous looks following yours or Steve’s every move, almost enough to make you self-conscious when snacking – when you realized you were getting cold.

The solution was easy; and despite how effective it would have been in chasing away the cold and lifting your spirits, it did not involve hugging Steve. Instead, you dived your hand down your backpack through the layer of snacks and other small necessities towards your clothes for the occasion.

And your hand reached something it most definitely shouldn’t have.

“What the-“ you murmured, still acutely aware of all the gazes on you, now joined by Steve’s. “Why is it… sticky?”

Puzzled and horrified – and suspicious, because Hopkinson might have never played a prank on you, but lines always had to be crossed for the first time someday – you threw out the things from the top, pulling out what was normally one of your favourite sweatshirts.

Fairly soaked in a rusty-red oily substance that now resided in your luggage.

Not that it hadn’t been there before – but before, it was safely stored in a Tupperware container along with the thin marinated steaks you had been tasked to carry for the team’s first dinner above fire, Hunter carrying the grate.  

“What is it?” Bobbi asked, frowning at the poor article of clothing you had intended to wear.

You didn’t have to sniff it to answer; mostly because the scent of spices was strong enough to answer for you.

“It’s the… marinade from our dinner,” you informed her with a grimace, a small whine escaping you as you went to inspect the rest of your clothes with dread and irritation rising. Because you already knew that the sweatshirt would not be the only thing having been hit. There had been enough to marinade to drown Steve and Bucky in – that was why you had triple-checked it was secured when you had pulled the straw for carrying it in your backpack. “How is that even possible?! I swear I checked it at least five times! I used rubber bands and a plastic bag and- ugh.”

“It probably gave out with all the moving around,” Natasha said, compassion evident in her voice. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you sighed.

And it was. You were only just beginning to feel the mountains part of your destination. You weren’t even shivering – and god knew you had been exposed to much worse conditions with fewer clothing. It wasn’t even raining. You had been through much worse – this was but an inconvenience.

Kinda like Hopkinson himself.

Your gaze flickered to him as he himself put on a thin hoodie, your gaze narrowing in subtle suspicion; but there was no way. He almost looked as if he was pitying you. Genuinely. Though not enough to share his clothes; not that you’d accept if he had offered. But that was beside the point. The point was he probably wasn’t to be blamed for your current misery. Not where marinating your clothes was concerned anyway.

It was probably all on you. It seemed your Tupperware skills still needed some work. Goddamnit.

“It is fine,” you spoke to yourself more than anyone else. “I’ll walk the cold off and then stay close to the fire-“

Your heart skipped a beat as you felt a presence by your side, a large navy-blue hoodie entering your sight; it was as if talking about your potential inconvenience summoned him.

An angel by your shoulder.

With a soft frown and a welcoming smile, he set the hoodie next to you as your hands still held onto your tainted clothes.

“Hey… here, you can have mine.”

You opened your mouth to protest, the words dying in your throat when you met Steve’s gaze. The golden hour had arrived, highlighting the freckles and the god-like warm glow of his smile. Your fingers reflexively twitched in the fabric of the t-shirt in your hands as the urge to run them through Steve’s hair instead hit you like a sledgehammer.

Friends, you reminded yourself again. FRIENDS.

He was offering a friendly gesture. It was no different than borrowing boxing wraps from Hunter for training if yours had torn, borrowing a dress from Natasha because none of yours fit the theme of a party, or borrowing heels from Daisy because they matched better than anything you owned. There was nothing special about this and no one would think twice.

Yet, it was a gesture you had to turn down, no matter how gentlemanly it was – no matter how at home you knew you’d feel in that hoodie. The idea alone was tickling along the most sensitive parts of your body and for that alone you should refuse.

“Thank you, Steve… but that wouldn’t be fair,” you said. “You shouldn’t be cold because of me.”

Plus, I know this one is your favourite, you wanted to say, but bit your tongue, aware that the scene was already out-of-chart intimate as it was. It certainly felt like it.

“I won’t. You know I run pretty hot…”

You are hot, you wanted to say – but a little choked noise from Hopkinson and Bucky had you quickly set your mind straight.

Until Steve pulled out the big guns – rather literally. Long fingers wrapped around your bare forearm, goosebumps erupting on your skin despite the nearly burning sensation, breath catching. It did not help the situation that something you didn’t dare to identify for the sake of your sanity flashed in Steve’s eyes when he touched you.

Friends. Friends, friends, FRIENDS-

“See. All warm. And it will stay that way even without a hoodie. Take it. Please,” he added. And soon, a content smile appeared on his face, because he recognized the signs of you yielding.

A girl had to pick her battles. Arguing with Steve was not one of those which you had no chance at winning – it would be like trying to move a ton-worth block of concrete with bare hands. You had enough experience with that – fighting with Steve on the matter of your comfort, not moving concrete – and there was no winning. He respected your choices, yes, but he’d fastened straps of a parachute on you himself if it came to it, even if it meant he wouldn’t have one himself; he was a sweet hypocrite like that.

“Fine,” you sighed, smiling just a bit. “If you insist… thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

You would swear you heard at least three people mutter under their breath: I bet.

Thoroughly warm and comfortable despite the numerous miles in your feet and tens of pounds on your back, you trailed behind Hunter and Bobbi, who were fighting animatedly – and most lovingly – about which European brand beer was the finest. For a couple who had been married and divorced, once talking about each other in not so nice terms including Bobbi being called ‘a demonic hell-beast’, they sure appeared very much in love – but every bit professional when it counted. They were lucky to find each other again, that was for sure. It made one long for a love like that; explosive as they were, you wouldn’t shy away from calling them soulmates. They belonged with each other; they were lucky to have find one another.

As you tugged at the sleeves of the hoodie you were wearing, long to easily hide your palms, you wondered if you were being lucky or cursed on this trip so far. Tripping. Spilling sauce onto your clothes. Withstanding Hopkinson’s moody glares of which exactly one resembled a shred of compassion and only lasted until you put on the hoodie of the Captain America himself. And yet, surrounded by colleagues, friends and Steve, on a trip with a sun that had slowly begun its descent at your back, you had to count your blessings.

Lucky. You were luckier than most.

Daisy had joined you for a bit, walking side by side with you when the path allowed it, meaningless chatter altering with meaningful; a natural course of conversation between close friends who were together for a few hours with nothing else to do but take it step by step, literally, admire the nature and talk.

Steve had promised it would only take less than an hour and you’d make it to where you were supposed to set camp. He had fallen behind, walking with Natasha and Bucky, who, judging by his tone and Steve’s groans, roasted the team captain about something with Natasha’s occasional but effective help.

Now, about what you assumed was twenty to thirty minutes later, the last challenge of today’s journey awaited you; fording a river.

A rather cold river.

The weather was nice, sure, and you were having a good time; but the idea of warding through water reaching your thighs was not all that alluring.

But of course, Steve Rogers was the man with a plan.

Walking down the river and finding a relatively shallow section of the river with several large rocks, all you had to do was to step from one slightly slippery stone to another without face-planting or letting your heavy backpacks break your balance. Easy – or it should be for a group of athletic agents.

Yet, Bucky and Steve were discarding their shoes in a blink, rolling up their pant legs, ready to dip in and get wet so other wouldn’t.

Your heart skipped a startled beat, a lump growing in your throat, as you watched Steve regard his friend, already knee-deep in water, with the tinniest bit of hesitance.    

Cold water. Cold water.

In the early June, the water couldn’t be colder than fifty, fifty-five degrees; but if the supersoldiers planned to stand there until all of you crossed the not-so-unsignificant distance while they’d assist, they would certainly feel it. And while history taught you both Steve and Bucky could clearly take the cold better than anyone, the idea of being the person knee-deep in the water was anything but pleasant.

Especially to someone who had already laid his life by diving a plane into icy waters of the North Atlantic.

Without a second thought, you left the line forming at the best crossing point, walking down the bank to crouch at Steve’s side.

He noticed your presence in an instant, snapping his head to you, an all-easy smile forming on his lips. As if you couldn’t see the brief flash of anxiety before he hid it. As if you couldn’t see his carotid pulsing wildly. As if he, the supposedly fearless man to all, could hide the one flicker of apprehension he allowed himself to feel from you.

“Are you sure about this, Steve?” you asked, voice as low as possible as not to attract attention.

As you met his gaze, understanding flashed in his eye. A silent conversation; he knew why you came to him, where your concern came from.

And in a very Steve Rogers fashion, he ignored it. He just gulped and squared his shoulders and rose to his feet, suddenly towering over you again.

“Of course I am.” Of course he was. “It will be much easier than all of us fording through.”

You sighed, looking at him pointedly as you swallowed your irritation – and worry. That was not what you were questioning and he knew it. And you weren’t questioning his dedication or his ability to help either; just the decision to put himself through discomfort anyone else could have taken upon themselves, when it meant more hardship for him than others.

“I know. It just… it can be literally anyone else-- hell, I can do it.”

You could. You’d warm up after soon enough, judging by the terrain awaiting you. It was a better option that him going in there to freeze his toes off at and bring him back to--

To prove your point, you reached for the backpack buckles on your belly to take it off.

Steve’s hand was on your forearm stopping you before you could undo a single one, squeezing.

As your head snapped back to his face, there was a little crack through the mask he had put on, showing just the slightest hint of anxiety now. But there was a fresh wave of warmth in his expression too; gratitude lit up the blue of his irises the way the sun lit up the summer skies, dreamy and sweet.

His thumb pressed into your forearm gently, stroking, reassuring. You felt the tension melt from your shoulders faster than a butter on the stove, something stirring deep inside your bones as you took a shaky inhale.

“Thank you, Lee, but I’ll be fine,” he said, one of his eyebrows arching, a little quirk to his lips. “And we don’t want to undo the work the hoodie has done on you.”

Right. The hoodie. His hoodie.  Yes, you were very much aware you were still wearing it, while he remained in a t-shirt that was at least one size too small for him and did all things delightful for his already insanely impressive physique.

Not the point.

You opened you mouth to argue, only to be interrupted by a shout from behind you.

“Oi, punk! You gonna help or just stand there enjoying the view?”

As you both turned to Bucky, you could see him helping Agent May cross the river, already halfway through.

Steve let go of your forearm, smiling at you once more.

“At least take the hoodie,” you insisted. He shook his head, your mouth opening on empty, deeming your effort fruitless.

“I have a jacket if I want… don’t need the hoodie,” he assured you, his grin earning a glint of danger that made your stomach flip-flop funnily, the heat in your abdomen burning hotter. “Plus, it looks much better on you.”

With that, he set off, jogging towards the water, and leaving you stand there with cheeks exploding with heat.

Damn you, Steven Grant.

Shaking your head, you returned to the line, anxiously watching Steve climb down into water, a shudder running down his spine.

“Come on. I saved you a spot,” Daisy said, gesturing for you to stand in front of her, earning an eyeroll from Hopkinson who stood behind her. “Everything okay with you and Steve?”

The phrasing had your head snap up with a startle, heart speeding up.

“What?”

What did she mean by that?! You and Steve?

No. There was you. There was Steve. Two separate entities. Friends.

Checking up on each other. Wearing each other’s clothes. Typical friends.

You relaxed when all you found in Daisy’s gaze was genuine care and curiosity, no trace of implying anything. Right.

You smiled back. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

Hunter and Bobbi followed after May; then it was your turn. The sight of the river, while beautiful, got a little less pleasant as you stepped on the first stone, testing just how slippery the surface was. It wasn’t awful – you could handle that, even as you felt the extra load on your back disturbing your balance.

But hey – the worst that could happen was you taking a cold bath. Just another inconvenience, right?

Yet, you didn’t have to worry. You didn’t even make it to the second large stone when a familiar pair of warm hands wrapped around yours, offering a gentle but firm support.

You met Steve’s reassuring gaze, a message without words: I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.

You send one back, squeezing his hands: I know. You makeme feel safe. You okay?

A tiny nod on his part and then you were on your way, careful taking step after step, always testing the surface first, making sure your every move was secure before shifting your weight. From one to another, you made it halfway to the deepest part of the crossing without any issue, actually enjoying the little adventure – which had obviously nothing to do with Steve’s touch, because you were not at all disappointed to see Bucky heading back from the other side of the river where he had left Bobbi to take you off of Steve’s hands. Not at all.

You were just stepping on the next stone when you felt a sudden drop in weight on your shoulders and back, an embarrassing yelp erupting from your throat as you scrambled for balance.

A fleeing thought of this trip being cursed for you indeed flashed through your mind as you braced yourself for the impact into cold water despite still trying not to have it come to that.

And it didn’t.

A splash sounded next to you, a few drops cooling your ankle, but that was it; you stood tall and firm on the irregularly-shaped stone, a hot vice of a grip on your hips, your hands having found purchase on just as hot and solid surface nearby.

Steve’s hands securely holding your hips.

Your hands on his shoulders.

Attentive blue eyes looking up at yours to assure both you and himself that you were okay.

Your face heated up, but the rest of your body was set on fire; indecent images of a wholly different situation with Steve’s hands having a steel-like grip on your hips and his eyes boring into yours flooded your mind, a wildfire of visceral need spreading through every single cell of your body and lightning it up. Steve was all about touch. Steve was all about eye-contact. You knew with absolute certainty that he’d never once let his gaze wander from your face when he’d sheathed himself inside you, feasting his eyes, because he lived for capturing images of beauty and he was a giver, the pleasure of people he loved being his own--- and you wouldn’t dare to look away. Your eyes might flutter shut at the sensation of utter-

Forcing yourself to snap back into present – into reality –, looking everywhere but at Steve as your whole body burned, a floating object caught your eye behind Steve’s back. A dark prolonged object, neatly packed, carried away by the stream.

Your tent. The thing that had fallen into water and nearly knocked you off balance was your tent, slowly sinking lower and lower as it slowed down its path down the river.

Great. Really great.

You were fucked.

How did it even-

“I got it!” Bucky hollered, changing course, heading to retrieve what was supposed to be the roof over your head for the next three days.

He’d get it; you weren’t worried. It was fine.

And the tent would be fine too. It was in the waterproof case. It would--- it would be absolutely soaked, because it was sinking. The entirety of the tent had gone under water, including the protective layer that was meant to save you from rain should it come to it.

There was no cloud on the sky but you had a feeling there’d be water dripping on you all night anyway.

How could it have fallen off? You had secured it with the buckled straps to the bottom of your fairly new backpack, checking repeatedly – every time before you put the backpack on again – that it held.

Then again, maybe you hadn’t done that after the fiasco – and the lovely result of it – with your marinated clothes. So you might be cursed, but by your own fault, really-

A squeeze to your hips brought your attention back to Steve, making you realize you were still standing in the middle of the river, stalling.

“I’m sorry, moving on, moving on,” you babbled, only to have him still your movements, eyes scrutinizing your face.

“You okay?”

Funny you should ask.

“Are you?”

You reciprocated the scrutiny; eyes roaming his handsome features, you searched for any signs of discomfort – not from having to hold you, but from still soaking his legs in the cold water. All you found was a reassuring smile; and yet, you couldn’t but brush your thumb inconspicuously over Steve’s shoulder in an attempt at comfort, incidentally along the hem of his t-shirt. An emotion flashed in his irises, eyes darkening a fraction, the grip on your flesh turning almost bruising before he began to release it, taking one of your hands again and then the other. You licked your lips – and you’d swear Steve’s gaze flickered to your mouth at that – standing up straighter.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky dropping your tent on the bank of the river.

“Thank you, Bucky!”

“No problem, dollface. Get moving though, my old knees aren’t built for this cold anymore,” he said, causing you to glare at Steve accusingly.

He had lied.

Of course he had fucking lied.

And he had the audacity to grin when you looked at him with accusatory and genuinely worried eyes.

“Let’s get you to the other side, shall we?”

“I packed your favourite snack, but I just decided I’m gonna eat it alone,” you threatened your vengeance for him for not being honest.

Steve feigned hurt so well you might as well believe it; but the hold on your hands remained gentle and secure as he helped you continue the path. “That’s cold, Lee.”

The corners of your lips quirked up.

“I know it’s cold. Now was it so hard to admit it?” you questioned as you beckoned to the water – causing Bucky to chuckle and Steve to deadpan when he instantly realized your trickery.

“You should be around more often, dollface,” Bucky said, approaching you and taking up on Steve’s task.

Steve just grunted and made his way to help Daisy. You felt your face heat up further at Bucky’s remark, grateful no one else could hear the exchange.

…were you though?

“I’ll take your words for it… and Steve?” He glanced at you over his shoulder, clearly not really offended. “Thank you for catching me.”

His smile, no matter how small, said it all and felt like the softest blanket to wrap around you on a cold winter morning; I’ll always catch you.

Always.

Just as you had expected, once you all made it through the river, you reached the camp spot in no time; and just as you had expected, your tent was a lost cause. You could build it, hoping it would dry out overnight at least bit, but actually sleeping in it was out of question unless you wanted to wake up soaked up and sneezing.

In a brief moment of self-pity you granted yourself, you planted your butt on the ground, laying the drenched parts of your tent next to you, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it as you stared at the traitorous pieces of equipment, including the buckles that had been meant to hold the package to the backpack but had given out.  

While everyone busied themselves with unpacking their temporary shelters as well – Natasha with Bucky, Bobbi with Hunter, May, Daisy and Hopkinson each on their own in the lightest and therefore smallest tents possible, Bobbi took note of your state, smiling compassionately.

“Are you okay? The water really did a number on that thing, huh?”

You reciprocated her smile wryly, no less grateful for her care.

“Yeah… But you know what? I win. Sleeping outside? I can stargaze. I’ll be fine,” you said, shrugging and rising to your feet to get to work. You could build the tent to have it dry out at least and wash your clothes in the lake you had settled at. “I’m just… gonna sleep by the fire under the open skies, in… borrowed, non-marinated clothes and with no sleeping bag, because with my luck, it’s probably full of bugs or itching powder or something. It’s fine. God knows I slept in conditions a lot worse than that.”

And wasn’t that the truth. You had slept in much better conditions too, but that was beside the point. You tried to summon the memories of horrible nights spent in damp clothes, freezing, teeth clattering so hard the sound made it impossible to fall asleep; unbearable heat, loud noises, even just annoying persistent chatter. Sleeping under the open skies was practically a blessing in comparison. A dream.

And you did not want to remember nights that had been very different, because that would only make you miserable at your predicament.

“Yeah, not on my watch,” Steve called out lowly, placing another hook in the ground, using his foot to step on it and dig it deeper. “Not when the solution is obvious.”

Your heart skipping a beat at the obvious solution, you barely had time to breathe in to respond when someone else did – in an extremely irritated manner.

“Seriously?! What, you gonna lend her your tent too?” Hopkinson spat, rising from where he had been crouching by his tent. “Maybe even keep her warm through the-“

Steve lunged his direction so fast you didn’t even have time to be offended by the implication.

But Bucky, the supersoldier he was, was much faster; his metal arm stopped Steve in his tracks, palm pressing against Steve’s chest before he could make the almost-breaking-Hopkinson’s-arm a pleasant memory for the man.

Still, Hopkinson had enough wit to shut up and step back hastily, raising his hands defensively. His face turned white as a sheet of paper; good. He had some brain left then, it seemed. How he had survived for so long you had no idea.

Gulping – and shamelessly satisfied at the fear in Hopkinson’s eyes, because Jesus he did not just say that, even as you had thought about exactly the same – you turned your gaze back to Steve and Bucky.

And something in your core exploded hot, a tug so violent and visceral it was almost painful.

If Steve had looked at Hopkinson like he could break his arm all those weeks back when he had made his stupid comment, now he looked like he could break every single bone in his body, snap the guy in half and enjoy it. And he’d enjoy doing it for you. To defend you.

Steve’s smile was always a beautiful sight and so was the softness he could look at you with at times; but the rage in his face now, the fire in his eyes, on your behalf, were nothing short of breathtaking.

Avenging angel indeed.

He might not be carrying a flaming sword, nor had his shield on his arm, but that made him no less menacing, no less divine; and no less beautiful.

“Do we have a problem, Agent Hopkinson?” Bucky asked calmly, despite the clear effort with which he was holding Steve back still, even as Steve visibly didn’t move a muscle.

You were barely moving at all too; your chest was heaving, the rest of your body strung tight with effort not to let show just how affected you were by Steve’s near literal white-knighting.  

“No, sir,” Hopkinson saluted, nodding stiffly, before he scrambled to finish building his tent.

“Good.”

Few seconds of deafening silence was only interrupted by the scrape of shoes against ground as the camp slowly came back to life again. Bucky shot Steve a look before he let his metal arm down, watching Steve avert his still flaming gaze from Hopkinson with shoulders remaining squared; and so alluringly wide you just wanted to run your hands over them, just as breathless at the sensation as you were now-

“I mean, makes sense you’d share,” Daisy broke the silence, everyone visibly relaxing. “It looks like your tent is pretty big, eh?”

Your eyes went wide.

Loud cough erupted from Hunter’s direction as he spitted the water he had been drinking; Bobbi patted his shoulders, amusement clear on her face. Bucky’s face twisted in a questionable grimace; Natasha pursed her lips, seemingly one second from making a comment. May bit back a smirk; Hopkinson was only showing his back, but he clearly froze in his movements.

Steve just looked shocked – shocked enough to snap from the anger that had overtook him on your behalf.

You would think it would take Daisy a few seconds to realize how she had worded her statement, accidentally referring to a figurative ‘tent’ men grew in certain situations – but judging by her seemingly innocent smile and the sparkle in her eye, she knew exactly what she had implied. And she had done so on purpose and with delight.

She was right, however. Steve’s temporary dwelling was probably the biggest one at your site and it even included a vestibule, where all the equipment which was meant for everyone was to be stored. His tent had the most space for the reason he could put his backpack to the vestibule alone.

Steve cleared his throat, taking a few steps to you, a relaxed smile having found way back to his face.

“…are you comfortable with sharing a tent with me?”

You reciprocated his smile, shrugging, even as you had to work hard to swallow your amusement at Daisy’s comment. One that was very much on point.

Yes. You were very comfortable sharing a tent with him indeed. More than, actually, but not everyone needed to know that; and you could feel several knowing gazes on you as you answered as levelled as possibly.

“I mean… we have shared a room before for a mission. I’m fine… are you? Comfortable with that, that is?” you asked, perfectly polite, considerate and friendly, even as your heart was racing in your ribcage.

There was no reason for the racing heart though. Because this was okay for friends to do. Absolutely. If you having shared the room sometimes included sharing a bed, which had naturally resulted in cuddling, body heat searching body heat, no one needed to know – especially not Agent Asshole Hopkinson. What happened in a motel room stayed in a motel room. Always.

A cute crinkle appeared in Steve’s eye as he gave the answer you already knew.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t. Of course, it’s fine.”

More than, whispered his gaze, so you averted it and busied yourself with gathering the wet parts of your tent, clearing your throat.

“Good… that’s good. Thanks. I really appreciate it, Steve.”

“Any time, Lee.”

You could feel his gaze on you, the warmth of his smile like a soft blanket on your back. It was going to be a long, long night.

Part 2

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I hope you enjoyed reading 🤭 if you did, please consider leaving feedback and reblogging💕

I hope July has been kind to you!

[mononijikayu]

lay your love on me — nanami kento.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as you prepared to drop your bombshell. “You know how I’m always worried about you being a sorcerer and putting yourself in danger?” He nodded, clearly not seeing where you were going with this. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that a few times.” “Well,” you continued, struggling to keep a straight face, “I’ve come up with the perfect solution to that problem.” “And what’s that?” Kento asked, raising an eyebrow. “I think you should quit being a sorcerer and become my house–husband instead,” you announced with a grin.

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: romance, marriage, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, possessive behaviour, protectiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, nanami kento is that MAN, reader petitions for nanami to be her house husband;

WORD COUNT: 5.4k words.

NOTE: i hope this makes up for the fact that i've been writing a lot of angsty fics. this was supposd to be a baywatch thing. but i changed my mind. anyway, i'll be doing the side - 900 works in advance. i hope you enjoy this!!! from this point, i might be slower in updating because i'll be back to uni again and probably will be a little bit more busy. thank you for reading and always enjoy this one too!!! i love you <3

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HE’S NOT PROUD OF THE MAN HE’S BECOME. But it’s hard for him, when it comes to you, his precious wife. Nanami Kento had always considered himself above petty emotions like jealousy. He was calm, rational, the kind of man who could look at the world with a level head.

Yet, ever since he met you, ever since he’s fallen for you, built his life, his universe about you — his life had taken a turn he hadn't anticipated. You brought out something in him that was unfamiliar and unsettling—a possessiveness, an insecurity that gnawed at him whenever he saw the way others looked at you. 

As he sat next to you on the sun-kissed beach, the warm Malaysian sunbathing you both in a golden glow, Nanami Kento found it difficult to fully relax. This was supposed to be your quality time, the belated honeymoon you both had both worked so hard to carve out from your hard and demanding schedules. For once, he had managed to take time off from his life as a sorcerer, a rare break that was meant to be a celebration of your love, their commitment to each other. 

You were just as busy as he was, if not more. As a lawyer, you were brilliant, successful, and independent. You made more than he did, something that had never bothered him—until now. Not because of pride, but because it made him realize just how much you had to offer. You could have anyone, and yet you had chosen him. The thought should have been reassuring, but instead, it only added to his insecurity.

Instead of peace, he found himself caught up in a swirl of emotions he couldn’t quite shake. It wasn’t just his possessiveness—it was the realization that, for the first time in his life, he was vulnerable. He was vulnerable because he loved you so deeply, because the thought of losing you, or of someone else taking your attention, filled him with a fear he didn’t know how to handle. 

Kento couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as you lay on the sunbed, basking in the warm Malaysian sun. The way the golden rays kissed your skin, making it glow, had him utterly captivated. You were wearing the tightest two-piece bikini, a vibrant floral design that contrasted beautifully against your sun-kissed skin. The colors brought out the vibrancy of your figure, accentuating every curve in a way that made his heart race.

He watched as you stretched languidly, your body moving with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly to him. The sunlight danced across your skin, highlighting the delicate contours of your body, the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, the curve of your waist, the length of your legs.

Every inch of you was perfection in his eyes, and it drove him mad how stunning you were. But it wasn’t just your physical beauty that had him so entranced; it was the knowledge that you were his, that this incredible, breathtaking person had chosen him.

His gaze lingered on your face, where a peaceful smile played on your lips, your eyes closed as you enjoyed the warmth of the sun. The gentle breeze teased a few strands of your hair, brushing them across your forehead, and he had to resist the urge to reach out and tuck them behind your ear. He loved these quiet moments, where he could just watch you, memorize the way you looked in the golden light, the way the sun turned your hair into a halo of warmth.

You were the most beautiful being to ever exist to him, and the thought made his chest tighten with a mix of pride and disbelief. How had he been so fortunate? What had he done to deserve someone like you in his life?

The longer he watched you, the more he felt that familiar, possessive edge creeping in. It was a feeling he wasn’t entirely comfortable with, one that he had never experienced before you came into his life. He had never thought of himself as the jealous type, but when it came to you, something primal and protective stirred within him. He didn’t want anyone else to look at you the way he did, to see what he saw, to appreciate the way you made the world a brighter, more beautiful place just by existing.

And yet, as he sat there, he knew that others couldn’t help but notice you too. It was impossible not to. You were radiant, magnetic, and he could see the way people’s gazes lingered on you, the appreciative looks that followed you whenever you walked by. He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to do something irrational, to pull you close and stake his claim in front of everyone.

Kento could see the way men’s eyes lingered on you, the admiration in their gazes as they took in your beauty. It made his blood boil in a way he wasn’t proud of. He wanted to stand up, to make it clear that you were his, that no one else had the right to look at you like that. But he stayed silent, gripping your hand a little tighter, hoping the feeling would pass.

You opened your eyes, and your gaze met his. The smile that spread across your face was one of pure love, your eyes softening as you looked at him. In that moment, all his insecurities melted away. You were his, and he was yours. It was as simple as that.

Kento leaned back in his chair, his own smile tugging at his lips as he continued to watch you. You shifted slightly, propping yourself up on one elbow, your expression playful as you caught him staring.

“See something you like?” you teased, your voice light and full of affection.

“Always, my love.” he replied, his voice deep and sincere. His gaze never left yours as he spoke, and you could see the intensity of his feelings reflected in his eyes. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You chuckled, a soft, melodic sound that made his heart skip a beat. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”

Kento couldn’t help but grin at that, though his expression quickly turned serious again. “It drives me mad, you know,” he admitted, his voice low. “How beautiful you are. How you’re mine.”

The way he said it, with such raw emotion, made your heart flutter. There was something in his tone, something almost possessive, that sent a shiver down your spine. But it wasn’t a bad feeling. If anything, it made you feel even closer to him, knowing that he felt so deeply for you.

“And you’re mine.” you replied softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours. The simple touch seemed to calm him, his fingers threading through yours as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Your eyes narrowed on him. “Only mine.”

And then there was your possessiveness. You couldn’t deny it—you were just as bad as he was when it came to jealousy. You tried to play it cool, but the truth was, you were no better at hiding it than he was. The moment you noticed the women stealing glances at him, their eyes lingering on his broad shoulders, his chiseled features, you felt a wave of irritation wash over you.

It was subtle, but Kento could sense the tension in you, the way your posture stiffened, the way you shifted closer to him, almost instinctively, as if to stake your claim. You wanted the world to know that this man was yours and yours alone.

Just as it does now.

Because if you were being honest, your husband was the most beautiful man in the world. With his muscular build and tall six-foot frame, he was the epitome of masculine perfection. The way his long, muscular arms held that beer bottle in his massive palm, the casual strength in his grip, made your heart flutter. His chiseled jaw tightened as he glanced in the direction of the men who had dared to look your way, his bright brown eyes narrowing in a clear, unmistakable warning. He didn’t have to say a word—the message was loud and clear: stay away.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to break through. This man belonged to you, and he wanted everyone to be sure that they knew it. There was something undeniably satisfying about the way he made it so obvious, so deliberate. And you knew that he felt the same way about you. 

His gaze flicked back to you, softening when he saw the look in your eyes. It was a look that said, “I’m yours.” and it made your heart swell with love and possessiveness all over again.

You didn’t care if it was irrational, if it was a little bit crazy—this man was yours, and you were his. And you wanted everyone to know that you belonged to each other, that nothing and no one could come between you.

Kento must have sensed your thoughts, because he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “You know you’re the only one I see, right?”

His voice was deep, reassuring, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “I know, babe." you whispered back, your fingers curling around his arm, feeling the solid muscle beneath his skin. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make sure everyone else knows it too.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes sparkling with amusement and something deeper, something more primal. “Good.” he said, his tone possessive and full of promise. “Because I’m not about to let anyone forget that you’re mine either.”

You grinned at that, the fiery possessiveness in his words matching your own. It was an unspoken agreement, a mutual understanding that neither of you would ever let anyone come between what you had. Because you both knew that what you had was rare, precious, and worth protecting at all costs.

As you stood there, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky you were. This beautiful, strong, and fiercely loyal man was yours. And you were his.

You pressed a kiss to his jaw, savoring the way he responded, the way his arm tightened around you just a little bit more. It was a simple gesture, but it carried the weight of everything you felt for him, everything you both felt for each other. This man belonged to you, and you belonged to him. And nothing in the world could change that.

It was a strange sort of dance, the two of you caught in a loop of possessiveness that neither could quite break free from. And yet, there was something oddly reassuring about it. In a world where you both faced so many uncertainties, where danger lurked around every corner, this shared jealousy was a reminder that you were both fiercely committed to each other. It wasn’t healthy, Kento knew that, but it was real. Even if you weren’t proud of it, even if Kento wasn’t proud of it — it was real. Between the two of you. It was love for you.

Still, the women’s gazes hadn’t wavered, you noticed. Their eyes still linger on your husband as if they had every right to admire him. The sight made your blood simmer, a protective, possessive streak flaring to life within you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Kento—he was as loyal as they came—but you didn’t appreciate the way they were looking at him, as if he were something to be desired, something they could claim if they tried hard enough.

Your grip on his hand tightened as you leaned closer and you cast a glance in his direction. Kento, ever composed, was doing his best to ignore the attention, but you could see the slight tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flickered to you as if seeking reassurance. He puts away the beer bottle on the side and looks to you again. 

A grin slowly spread across your lips as an idea formed. If those women wanted to look at your husband, you’d give them something to see—a clear, undeniable reminder that he was yours. You leaned in, your hand resting on his chest as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze.

Kento looked down at you, a question in his eyes, but before he could ask, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a hot, passionate kiss. The world around you faded as you poured all your love, your possessiveness, your desire into that kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a statement. A declaration that this man, this incredible, strong, loyal man, was yours. And no one else had any right to him. He only belongs to you. Only you.

Kento’s initial surprise melted away as he responded in kind, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, pulling you even closer. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that matched your own, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body relaxed into yours as if nothing else mattered. Kento’s arms slowly wrap around the small of your back, kissing you even deeper. 

When you finally pulled back, you were breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. You could see the effect it had on him, the way his eyes had darkened with desire, the small, satisfied smile that tugged at his lips. You glanced over at the women who had been ogling him earlier. Their expressions had shifted—some were embarrassed, others annoyed, but all of them had gotten the message loud and clear.

Triumph surged through you as you turned back to Kento, your grin widening. “I think they got the point, babe.” you whispered, your voice teasing.

Kento chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over your lips as if to savor the moment. “I believe they did.” he murmured, his tone filled with warmth and a hint of amusement. “Though I must admit, I didn’t mind that at all.”

“Then…..can we continue this upstairs?”

Your husband’s eyes narrow, almost awakening something in him. “What do you have in mind?”

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YOU DON’T THINK YOU WOULD EVER GET TIRED OF HIM. Nanami Kento always made you feel so many things—desire, love, passion—and you loved every bit of it. The tension between you had been building ever since that heated kiss on the beach, and as you made your way back to your hotel room, it only grew stronger.

Each step, each shared glance, every subtle touch added fuel to the fire burning between you. The anticipation was electric, and by the time you reached the door, it was like a dam waiting to burst.

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, the restraint you’d both been holding onto snapped. You pressed yourself against him, your lips crashing into his with a fervor that had your head spinning. It was as if you couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t close the gap between you fast enough. His hands roamed your body with a hunger that matched your own, pulling you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you.

The kiss deepened, growing more urgent, more desperate, as you both succumbed to the need that had been simmering beneath the surface all day. His fingers dug into your hips, guiding you back toward the bed as he claimed your mouth over and over again, each kiss more intense than the last.

You could feel his desire, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch, the low growl that rumbled in his chest as you tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head. The moment the fabric hit the floor, his lips were back on yours, his hands working to free you from your bikini. The way he touched you, with a mix of reverence and raw need, sent shivers down your spine. He breaks the kiss.

“Kento, Kento….” you breathed finally, your voice trembling with anticipation as you felt his lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. His hands moved with purpose, untying the strings of your bikini, and the sensation of the cool air against your bare skin only heightened the intensity of the moment.

He leaned back for just a moment, his gaze sweeping over you with a look of pure, unfiltered desire. “You’re perfect, my love.” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion, before his lips were back on yours, more insistent this time, as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you for even a second.

Your hands found their way to the waistband of his beach shorts, your fingers trembling slightly as you pushed them down, the fabric pooling at his feet. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way his hard, muscular frame pressed against you, and it sent a rush of heat straight to your core.

The bed hit the back of your knees, and before you knew it, you were tumbling onto the soft sheets, Kento following you down, his body covering yours in an instant. The weight of him, the feel of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. He presses his lips against yours again, the heat between your bodies burning you even more.

You moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled as he deepened the kiss, his hands exploring every inch of your body as if he was trying to memorize you all over again. You could feel his arousal pressing against you, the heat of him throbbing against your thigh, and it sent a jolt of electricity through your body.

His lips left yours, trailing down your neck once again and across your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. The feeling of his mouth on your skin, combined with the way his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, was almost too much to bear.

“Kento, babe.” you gasped, your voice breaking as he found that sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing the skin there in a way that made you arch against him, desperate for more. “It’s so….it’s so hot.”

“Tell me what you want, my love.” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with need.

“You.” you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, needing to feel every part of him against you. “I want you, Kento.”

The way he responded, with a deep, guttural groan, sent shivers down your spine. His hands moved to your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them. It was as though he found home again. You groaned as you felt his hands explore the exposed skin. He was enjoying this, you knew. He enjoyed teasing you.

“God, Kento.” you breathed out, your voice trembling with need. He was driving you wild, his touch lighting you up in ways you hadn’t thought possible. You needed more, needed him closer, needed to feel him in every possible way..

You could feel him pressing against you, his lips returning to yours in a kiss that was just as intense as before. It was almost too much, the way his body fit so perfectly against yours, the way his hands moved with such skill and tenderness, the way every inch of him seemed to be in tune with your needs.

The anticipation was building, the need for him becoming overwhelming as you felt his fingers deftly undo the last of your bikini top. The cool air of the room brushed against your exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating between the two of you. You could feel the wetness pooling between your thighs, the desperate longing for him growing with each passing second.

Kento’s touch was everything—gentle and firm, demanding and patient all at once. The way he handled you, the way he made you feel, it was almost too much to bear, and yet you couldn’t get enough. You wanted more, needed more, and he seemed more than willing to give it to you. He liked to give you more and more, to satiate your greed.

Your bodies moved together with a rhythm that felt both familiar and electrifyingly new. The room was filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, the soft rustle of sheets, and the occasional, intoxicating moans that slipped from your lips as Kento's hands roamed over your bare skin.

His touch was a maddening mix of tenderness and raw desire, each caress lighting a fire inside you that grew with every passing moment. His fingers traced the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, and the softness of thighs, lingering just long enough to make you gasp before moving on. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as his lips followed the path of his hands, kissing and nipping at every sensitive spot he could find.

You arched your back as his mouth moved lower, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your collarbone before trailing down to your chest. He took his time, savoring every inch of you as if he wanted to memorize the way you tasted, the way you felt beneath him. His tongue flicked over your nipple, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you that made your toes curl. You moaned his name, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, urging him on.

Kento responded with a low growl, the sound vibrating against your skin as he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before letting his teeth graze the sensitive flesh. The sensation was almost too much to bear, your body reacting with a surge of heat that pooled between your thighs. You could feel the wetness there, the way your body was aching for him, and you knew that he could feel it too.

His hands slid down your sides, his fingers tracing the curve of your hips before dipping between your thighs. The first touch of his fingers against your slick heat made you cry out, your hips bucking involuntarily as you pressed yourself against his hand. He moved with agonizing slowness, teasing you with light, feathery touches that only made your desire grow stronger.

You could feel the tension building inside you, the need for release becoming almost unbearable as he continued to tease you. His fingers slipped between your folds, stroking you with a skill that had your head spinning. Each touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your body trembling with anticipation as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. One after another, it was a pandemonium of pleasure. When you came, you sobbed as you felt his fingers tighten against your crevices.

“Kento, babe. Please.” you gasped, your voice trembling with need. “Please, I need you.”

He lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at you. There was something primal in his gaze, something that made your heart skip a beat. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him, and that knowledge sent a thrill of excitement through you.He removed his fingers, licking them clean one after another, enjoying the taste of you. The sight of him made you even more wet.

“What do you want, my love?” He cooed at you. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside, Kento.” You muttered, your eyes beaming with pleasure. “Please, babe. Please.”

He didn’t make you wait any longer, his dear love. With a practiced ease, he positioned himself between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips as he guided himself to your entrance. The tip of his cock brushed against your swollen folds, and you could feel the heat of him, the way his length stretched you as he slowly pushed inside.

The sensation was overwhelming, the feeling of him filling you completely making you gasp for air. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to anchor yourself in the whirlwind of pleasure that threatened to consume you.

Kento moved with deliberate, measured thrusts, each one sending a wave of ecstasy through your body that made your vision blur. He was gentle but firm, his pace steady as he worked to bring you both to the peak of pleasure. You could feel every inch of him inside you, the way he stretched you, filled you, in a way that made you feel utterly complete.

Your moans filled the room, each one growing louder as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping against yours with a growing urgency. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound almost drowned out by the symphony of your lovemaking. You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, the familiar pressure building as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

“Kento, I’m… I’m so close, babeeeeee!” you breathed out, your voice trembling with anticipation. You were right on the edge, teetering on the brink of a powerful release that you could feel building inside you like a storm.

“Let go, love.” he whispered against your ear, his voice rough with desire. “I’ve got you. Let go for me.”

His words were all you needed. With a final, powerful thrust, he pushed you over the edge, your body shattering into a million pieces as your orgasm ripped through you. You cried out his name, your voice breaking as waves of pleasure crashed over you, each one more intense than the last.

Kento followed you into bliss, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, his own release overtaking him. You could feel the warmth of him spilling into you, the way his body trembled against yours as he groaned your name, his voice thick with emotion.

For a moment, the world stood still. All you could feel was him, all you could hear was the sound of your racing hearts and the ragged breaths you both struggled to catch. He stayed inside you, his body pressed against yours as you both came down from the high, the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through you.

Slowly, he pulled out, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness that was quickly replaced by the warmth of his arms wrapping around you. He pulled you close, holding you against his chest as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I love you, love.” he whispered, his voice soft and full of sincerity. “So much.”

“I love you too, babe.” you murmured back, your voice barely above a whisper. Your body was spent, completely exhausted from the intensity of your lovemaking, but you felt content, safe, and utterly cherished in his arms.

As you lay there together, his arms tighten around you as if he never wanted to let you go. And in that moment, with the warmth of his body against yours and the sound of the waves crashing outside, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be—right here, in his arms, for as long as you both lived.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

epilogue

Later that evening, after the intensity of your earlier moments had faded into a comfortable, blissful haze, you found yourself curled up against Kento’s chest, his arm wrapped securely around you. You sighed, almost as though you were the most content in your entire life.

He’d already made sure to take care of you and clean you up, even making you some tea so that you could relax on your shared bed. And you love him for it. He always spoils you to no end. The sound of the waves outside your window was a soothing backdrop, lulling you into a state of utter contentment. 

As you lay there, a thought popped into your mind, one that made you grin mischievously. You tilted your head up to look at him, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on his chest.

“Kento, babe.” you began, your tone teasing, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Hm?” He glanced down at you, his expression warm and relaxed, though there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

You bit your lip to keep from grinning as you prepared to drop your bombshell. “You know how I’m always worried about you being a sorcerer and putting yourself in danger?”

He nodded, clearly not seeing where you were going with this. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that a few times.”

“Well, babe.” you continued, struggling to keep a straight face. “I’ve come up with the perfect solution to that problem.”

“And what’s that?” Kento asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I think you should quit being a sorcerer and become my house–husband instead.” you announced with a grin.

There was a moment of silence as Kento processed what you’d just said. His usually stoic expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to determine whether or not you were serious. You could see the wheels turning in his head, and it only made it harder for you to hold back your laughter. He looked cute, when he's thinking, you like to believe.

“A… house–husband?” he repeated slowly, as if testing the word out on his tongue.

“Yes! A house–husband, babe.” you confirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “You’d be amazing at it! You could cook, clean, and take care of everything at home while I go to work. And you’d never have to worry about exorcisms or curses or any of that dangerous stuff ever again.”

Kento blinked at you, his mouth opening as if to say something, then closing again as he reconsidered. Finally, a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “And what would I do all day at your house–husband?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d find plenty to do, babe.” you replied, barely able to keep a straight face. “You could perfect your cooking skills, learn how to fold the perfect fitted sheet, maybe even take up knitting! Plus, you’d have plenty of time to dote on me when I come home from work. Maybe even meet the old ladies at the corner store! They really like zumba, just as much as you do.”

At that, Kento let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Knitting, huh? I didn’t realize that was part of the job description.”

“Well, it’s optional.” you conceded with a giggle. “But I think you’d be really good at it.”

Kento shook his head, clearly amused by your antics. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Dead serious.” you replied, though the twinkle in your eyes betrayed your true intentions. “I mean, think about it. No more dangerous missions, no more fighting curses. Just a quiet, peaceful life at home with me. Grow old together and me spoiling my husband with bringing in the dough and you spoiling me with all your love. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He considered it for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “It does sound nice.” he admitted, his tone still teasing. “But I’m not sure how I’d feel about giving up my job to become a… house–husband.”

“Oh, come on.” you coaxed, poking him playfully in the ribs. “You’d love it. And I’d love coming home to you every day. Plus, you’d look really cute in an apron.”

That finally did it. Your husband Kento burst out laughing, the sound rich and warm as it filled the room. You couldn’t help but join in, your own laughter mingling with his as you both imagined the ridiculousness of the idea. But you suppose the ridiculousness of it is what made it so touching. Life is always strange anyway, you think. And he knows that too. 

When the laughter finally subsided, Kento leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I appreciate the thought.” he said, his voice full of affection. “But for now,  I think I’ll stick to being a sorcerer for now. Though I have to admit, the idea of being your house–husband is tempting.”

“Tempting enough to reconsider?” you asked with a grin, though you knew his answer.

“Not quite, love.” he replied, chuckling. “But I’ll keep it in mind as a backup plan.”

“Deal.” you agreed, snuggling closer to him. “But just so you know, I’m not giving up on the idea entirely. You’d make an excellent house–husband. Mine only, of course.”

Kento smiled down at you, his eyes soft and filled with love. “And you’d make an excellent lawyer who brings home the bacon.”

“Then it’s settled.” you said, laughing. “We’ll just have to make sure you stay safe so I don��t have to resort to plan B.”

“With you by my side, love?  I have no doubt I will.” he murmured, kissing you softly as you both settled back into the peaceful, contented silence of the evening.

[complete-clownery]

Hahaha okay rant about this amazing fanfic (you probably heard of this one already but still)

So whenever it comes to explaining and writing under my posts I just get lazy but I need to push through this cuz I need to talk

So the fanarts were made for the lmk fanfiction sunbreak, that a lot of you (probably mostly shadowpeach shippers) had read, and it is amazing, I read trough it as fast as my brain let me and as you can see it has pleasantly scratched my brain so much so that I even (attempted) to make fanart for it

Ngl if I wasn't a major pussy I would try to illustrate the whole thing or make covers for each chapter but Im unable to work on something more than 2 hours and I would want those to look good, but good looking art (if I don't mess up) takes 6 hours ughh--- annoying much---

Anyways I'm not good with literature but man is this fix a masterpiece *chefs kiss* its everything its amazing, I was unable to put it down once I started it

Okay i dont think I have the brain capacity to explain how much I worship the writer of this masterpiece @ladygreenfrisbee , so i'm just going to talk about the drawings a tad

So first picture with Red Son and MK its sort of like an au in the fic where the whole lbd plot is somehow nonexistent and after Macaque gets to his sisters domain they settle down and raise the kids together without much of an issue aside from assassinations keep happening and trying not to get in trouble with the heavens

Id like to think that Gongzhu still wouldn't let the court tailors to put any form of red or gold on MKs outfits and only allowed the yellow after when MK was old enough to declare that yellow was his favorite color, but even now she would insist on some form of purple and shadow motives to let others know who the mother is

We also got baby MK and toddler Red Son and sassy LIF and Mac

Third pic with the lion: I don't know what it was or why but I just love general Song so much--- he's a major dickhead but sgvshshsevkdididhr (actually I kinda love all the original characters in this one, from the generals to the old lady in the beginning of the book, (gosh I also wanna draw some scenes from those chapters I loved how Mac and she interacted hshsjsj))

so chapter 34 was probably my favorite so far I re read it about two more times cuz it was amazing to see Macaque being the schemer he is and try to piss of Song lol

Last picture: its a sketch/a wip or whatever (probably not going to finish it but im still putting it there cuz its somewhat decent looking)

Its the part where Wukong remembered of Macaque finally finding him and asking for him to come back to flower fruit mountain.

I tried to make Macaque look more unhinged on this one but since I didn't finish it I dont think its that noticable so fuck that but I also gave him a halo like the saints to symbolise his suffering and what not (thought it looked cool and fitting think whatever you want about it lol)

And that all ((((hollly mother))))

If you read this trough, thank you and congrats👏👏

[pomefioredove]

if you're still taking requests for the event could i request floyd with "Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" ? ty !

hehe ofc ofc!

summary: "maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" type of post: fic characters: floyd additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, pre book 3, kissing, yuu is very much canon yuu here lol a part of this event

Riddle's noble efforts to warn you about Floyd Leech had fallen on deaf ears.

"And stay out of trouble!" were his exact words, if you remembered correctly.

You'd almost scoffed.

You had already been at NRC for months; you'd fought monsters, solved mysteries, and come out of all of it in one piece.

You could handle a history of magic project.

Sure, this is your first mixed-year assignment; and yes, the project itself makes up a great portion of your semester grade...

...but if anyone had asked you, you'd say that a measly school presentation is nothing compared to what you've already been through.

"Remember not to play along with his antics; it only encourages him,"

Riddle had wasted no time lecturing you about your mysterious project partner the second his name left your lips.

You'd come to him to ask if he knew the guy, not his entire life story.

"Stay focused... and stay out of trouble!"

Trouble. Ha. Every second at NRC since you'd arrived had been trouble.

You walk into the library; like usual, it's mostly empty.

Floyd Leech, Floyd Leech... now, where would...?

"Hey, you!"

You turn on your heels to face the source of the shout; leaning against a bookshelf behind you is the tallest boy you've ever seen.

He even gives off the vague impression of towering over you, making you feel small regardless...

"Man, I almost didn't see 'ya, you're so tiny," he grins, baring a row of sharp teeth. "I'm gonna call you Shrimpy. Now, come onnn, I've been waiting forever!"

You're early. Before you can say as much, he grabs you by the forearm and drags you off to a table.

"Alright, Shrimpy," he says, taking a seat across from you. "What's on the docket for today?"

"Uhh..." you're still slightly dazed. He's got some energy, that's for sure.

Riddle's words flash through your mind.

"...Well, I was thinking we could find our material first, then outline..."

"Reading?" Floyd asks, slumping in his seat as if he'd just received terrible news.

You blink. "...Well, we're going to have to read a little,"

He groans, loudly. A few people in the library turn to stare before awkwardly shuffling away.

"...Nah, I'm not in the mood. Let me do 'somethin else,"

What had Riddle said yesterday? "He changes his mind at the drop of a hat. Arguing is no good,"

"...Okay," you say, tentatively reading his expression. "I'll start with the outline. Do you want to look for pictures instead?"

He's quiet, as if seriously considering the pros and cons of the offer, and then he shrugs.

You sigh. Riddle was just being overdramatic. This is fine!

Floyd becomes lost in his assigned job, leafing through an atlas in search of a map from the time period you're researching, leaving you to your reading.

It'd be an easier job with two people, but...

"You're real quiet, Shrimpy,"

You look up from your encyclopedia. He'd shoved the atlas aside, his eyes fixed on you instead.

You raise an eyebrow. "I'm reading...?"

"Aw. Don't tell me you're the serious type?" a loud, dramatic sigh follows. "I was hoping we could have some fun. I was really looking forward to meeting you and all..."

You have to remind yourself that you have a reputation here. Great...

"Well, sorry to disappoint, but I'm a pretty boring person. Normal,"

Floyd's brow furrows. "Nah, I don't buy that. You wanna know what I think?"

You don't like this. The way he's looking at you, like he sees something you don't...

"...I think you only act normal 'cause you're afraid of being judged. You try way too hard to be a good student and stuff 'cause you wanna fit in here,"

Ouch. You blink, momentarily stunned to silence. He could tell all that just from watching you read?

"I'm just 'sayin," he gives you another sharp smile. "I wouldn't mind if you stopped acting all serious around me. You're way too tense."

"...Tense? I am not tense,"

Your denial only encourages him. A wide grin creeps across his face.

"Yeah, you know. You could feel the stress in this place from a mile away...

...Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension,"

Riddle had drilled you for hours; Floyd stealing your things, making you chase him, getting bored and leaving, a thousand possible situations that could come out of a simple study session...

...This was not one of them.

Floyd grins again, wider this time. "Ahah, never mind. You're way too boring and normal for something like that, right?"

You suddenly feel hot; he's putting you on the spot, and he knows it. He seems to be living for your agitation.

"Hey, that's not fair-"

"Fair schmair," he cuts in. "I gave you a dare, and you can't do it. Happens all the time to you, I bet. It's-"

Riddle had warned you, several times, quite clearly, not to play along.

But... in your defense...

Floyd giggles against your lips, the delighted little noise giving away a hint of surprise. His hands, cold and clammy but nice nonetheless, grab hold of your face, drawing you closer into the kiss. He's threatening to pull you across the table at this point...

...It's a good thing you chose a time when the library would be empty.

After a minute or two, he lets go, leaving you breathless with another smile.

"I knew you had it in 'ya," he says, reaching across the table to pull the encyclopedia back towards him.

"My turn to read, okay? I was getting bored of the pictures,"

[sthwaaberry]

firsts - k.hongjoong

wc: 550+

pairing: subby virgin hongjoong x fem reader

warnings: p w/o plot, handjob, blowjob, make out scene, mention of sex, lmk if i missed anything (not proofread!)

hongjoong had a lot of his firsts with you. first hug, first kiss, first date. he loved being with you and experiencing what it’s like to truly be loved and appreciated, he did.. but there was always one first he was seemingly hell bent on avoiding.

almost a year into your relationship, and you guys still hadn’t fucked. never going beyond a quick make out session, you never even saw hongjoong naked. you respected his boundaries, no matter how much you wanted him.

it was a night like any other, he came home after coming home from airport, chunky glasses sitting atop his nose bridge as you watched whatever shitty rom-com you chose. not even 30 minutes into the movie and he was all over you, having placed you in his lap leaving sloppy, rushed kisses on your lips; odd. usually you were the one to initiate it. though, you weren’t complaining. though the way his fists bunched at the oversized tee you were wearing started to worry you at his change in character.

“joong, is everything alright?” you murmur, a soft peck placed on your lips before he answers “yeah, just— fuck. today was really stressful, love. i wanna forget about my responsibilities right now, wanna focus on you.” he pouts. “can you help me forget?”

his words sent a shiver down your spine. was this really happening? you tried to ignore how heated your ears felt. “hongjoong, are you asking—“ “yes. please. i come home and you’re sitting here so damn pretty.. w-we don’t even have to fuck yet.” he says, clearly desperate. you bite your lip before leaving your spot on his lap, falling to the carpeted floor below the sofa, in between his spread thighs.

your eyes widen at the bulge you see in his boxers when you finally take off his pants. you weren’t expecting it to be this big. you slip the remaining fabric off, mouth salivating at the sight before you.

he wasn’t exactly thick, but he made up for it in length. his tip red and angry, dribbling with precum. you look up at him, watching as he purses his lips, glasses slightly crooked and foggy to the point where you could barely make out his eyes. you looked so damn pretty like this, slotted in between his legs.

you wrap your fingers around his length, giving him an experimental stroke, a gorgeous moan leaving his lips. you wanted to hear it again badly. encouraged by his sounds, you start stroking him slowly but surely, thumb running across his tip as a string of whines and profanities leave his lips.

“p-please, y/n.. need my cock in your mouth, you’ll let me, right?” he whimpers out, and you obey, lips slowly wrapping around his cock. with what you can’t fit in your mouth, you continue to stroke, feeling him throb inside of you.

“a-ah.. f-fuck, wait- m’gon—” with little to no warning, strings of his warm cum shoot down your throat, making you pull away for a bit to swallow, catching your breath.

“give me a warning next time, joong.” you say with a breathless chuckle, while hongjoong looks away flustered, grumbling an apology talking about how he didn’t mean to. meanwhile, you could tell he was noticeably less tense than before, leaving a satisfied smile on your face.

a/n: AAAA im sorry i know im supposed to be writing two other full fics but these images appeared on the tl in the dead of night and i couldn’t help myself 😣 i didn’t proofread sorry for mistakes, please leave your thoughts i’d love to hear it since this is my first time writing smut and thank you if you read all of this !!

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Tim Drake: Ugly Duckling (dp x dc)

So this is the last day of pride month, and so also the last day of me trying to write as many LGBTQ+ canon dc characters. It’s been fun (and I got to read a whole bunch of comics which was actually much more fun than the first time I’d tried to read those!!)

Now even though this is the end of June, feel free to send an ask if you want me to write a blurb with any character. I make no promises, but I will very much try! (It might take a while especially if I’m in a Tumblr hibernation phase.)

Anyways, for the last day of pride month I wanted to do Tim Drake coz he’s dc’s main “it” gay girl. I’ve been working on this Dead Tired fic for ages, based on the post about Tim getting turned into a swan and meeting Danny, who as a prince has to give him a kiss to change him back (I can’t find the prompt but it was hilarious so this was my take on it).

Here’s the beginning of the fic:

Red Robin was on patrol duty, while Batman and Robin were following a lead on possible joker safehouses. All in all, It was a pretty quiet night with only two muggings, both low-energy as both perpetrator ran away as soon as a bat-shaped shadow moved. 

So Red Robin had spent most of the night chatting with Babs. He was grappling around town, as they started on the new date app they’d both found out Jason was using.

“I told him he can’t put only photos of his motorcycle but- wait I’m getting a call,” Oracle interrupted herself. Tim waited before the earpiece came to life again.

“Sorry to cut this short Red Robin, got a full-attention request from Canary. If you need anything, beep me, and Keep your coms open.”

“Bye, Oracle,” he said, and like that, Red Robin was alone once again.

 He stopped on Grand Avenue Station and just let himself take in Gotham. The city was beautiful at night, and Tim was itching for a camera. He seen hundreds of pictures of the city’s skyline but they always managed to be unique. The night sky may always be covered by dark clouds above, but Gotham had its own stars in the lights shinning on top of the skyscrapers. So lost in his thoughts, Tim was, he almost missed the soft noise that sounded behind him. The voice that sounded behind him was harder to miss.

“Wither away so late, Little Red Bird?”

Red Robin turned to see a tall woman standing half in the shadows

“Sorry, can I help you?” Answered the vigilante despite the bad feeling creeping up to him.

“I’d like to know where I can find your guardian,” the woman said, still in the shadows.

“You mean Batman?” He chanced.

The woman nodded and Tim resisted the urge to sigh.If this was another one of Bruce’s ill-advised fling, Tim was going to hack every electronic device the man had to play sex-eds on loops for at least a week.

“He’s busy at the moment.” Then feeling like he shouldn’t assume what the woman wanted Bruce for, he continued. “But if you need any help, I’ll do my best.”

The woman stepped forward, and Tim could see her better. Her face was bare, but her distinctive outfit seemed to indicate she was some kind of vigilante-slash-criminal. The outfit did, in fact, ring a bell in the back of his mind, but it was dim. Tim didn’t tense up, but he did angle his body in a way to accommodate for a better escape through grappling. She continued walking until she was within arm’s reach of Tim, towering over him. She extended a hand to lightly caress his cheek, and Tim went still at the touch.

“Such a kind Little Bird you are,” she said gently. “You know, you remind me of my daughter.” She sighed. “Oh, what pretty children you both are.”

“Thank you,” said Tim as he sidestepped out of the way. “I’m sure she’s a lovely person.”

“Oh she was,” the woman said and through his growing wariness, Tim spared a thought for the girl. “She had dark hair and the fairest skin, just like you. The most beautiful girl in the land some would even say.”

That niggling feeling came back as a feeling of familiarity poked at him once again. “You must’ve been very proud.”

The woman let out an airy laugh before saying playfully/contemplating. “mustn’t I?”

A shiver ran down his back. Alright, there was something wrong with this woman, and Tim wasn’t waiting around to find out what. Not without any information or backup.

“Well, if there’s nothing I can do for you, I really have to get going,” Tim said as he took out his grapple gun. In a second, the gun was ripped from his hand , and he was slammed to the side of the staircase leading up to the roof. He let out a gasp at the impact and his features tensed in pain. The woman hadn’t even touched him.

“Not so fast, Little Bird. We don’t want you going back to the Batman just yet.  I’m not ready to make him my Knight yet.”

“Your knight?” Tim managed to get out. He tried to move his arms, but some unseen force was pinning him in place. Shit, that meant he couldn’t reach the comm to send out a distress signal. Hopefully Babs would check in soon.

The woman smiled as she approached him once again. “What better for a Queen, than a Dark Knight?”

And just like that it clicked. “You’re the Queen of Fables.” 

“Well look at this, you’ve got the brains and the beauty,” she teased, her voice as smooth as honey.

“What do you want with Batman?” Tim asked though he could guess from previous encounters she had had with the Justice League that the villainess wanted to turn Bruce into a fairytale character of some sort. She’d done the trick on Clark, and twice on Diana, so it was probably Batman’s turn now. So, yes, Tim could guess, But the longer he kept her talking the more time he had to figure out a way out of this.

“I told you, he’ll be a Knight of the Queen,” She extended a hand and tilted Tim’s face up. “Do you know what that would make you Little Bird?” 

Most villains assumed the batclan worked like a crime family. So the family of a knight? “Nobility,” Tim guessed, unsure where this was going.

“Exactly.” She smiled, and then she moved. Tim braced for the hit.

Instead of a punch though, he only felt a tingling sensation. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, only for them to grow bigger as he took in his uniform. Or the lack thereof.

He was in something-century clothing, in some sort of frilly shirt and pants, all in white. This was worse than a punch. Then, as the thought hit him, Tim’s hands flew to his face only to come in contact with the silky fabric of a masquerade mask. He sighed in relief, and as he calmed down, he realized he was now free of the force pinning him down.

“The color is for my daughter,” the Queen said. Then, she let her head fall to the side before tracing a line across his forehead and Tim could feel something like a circlet setting down on it. “There you go. Now, it’s perfect. You could practically be siblings.” 

“No thanks.,” Tim answered.

The Queen tsked him. “That’s no way to behave Little Bird, has nobody taught you to say thank you when you receive a gift.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Tim disagreed mildly as he took stock of his weapons. Everything was gone, including the earpiece, which meant Babs had to have been alerted and someone was en route.

The Queen frowned. “I was going to be merciful, for you guardian’s sake, but I no longer feel generous.” She raised her hand and Tim tried to roll away, but the magic beam swerved and hit him in a blinding flash of light.

When he managed to open his eyes once again, the world seemed quite a bit bigger than it had been moments before. 

“What did you do to me?” He said. Or tried to say.

Instead a strange squawk echoed and Tim took a step back in surprise. However, he lost his balance and started to fall and as he tried to catch himself with his hand, two large white wings unfolded. He dropped down, which wasn’t as far as he would’ve estimated and laid stiff. He moved his left arm, and a white wing followed suit. 

Oh, no. Oh no no no.

A grating laugh interrupted his freak out. “There you are my pretty Little Bird, all better. White really is your colour, don’t you th-“

With a loud hiss, Tim propelled himself towards the woman. Making use of his newfound beak, he pecked and bit everything he could, as he flapped his wings.

“Blasted creature- Get off! Stop it, you despicable, puny-“ 

Finally she managed to grab Tim and throw him away from her. He landed with a squawk, but managed to get himself back to his feet quickly. “You little/awful brat,” she snarled. “You’ll pay for this!”

But as the Queen threw out her hand, something rippled in the air between them and the magic beam seem to explode midway into a green vortex. Tim’s clumsy attempt at waddling away had him head straight towards it, and it was in vain that he tried to redirect the course. She and Tim made eye contact as the swan-boy tipped right into the swirling green vortex, both of their eyes wide-open in surprise.

Danny was exhausted. He was currently on week one of the full month of Royal Duties he’d promised Clockwork. Being Prince of the Infinite Realm was not all that it was cracked up to be, and that was saying a lot since he had already been expecting it to be awful. 

When Clockwork had made the request, Danny had proceeded to freak out about his new status, and then tried to abdicate. It was only the master of time reminding him of all the terrible possible candidate for the throne per rites of combat (such as Vlad) that stopped him from washing his hands of this mess. And now Danny was forced to spend one whole month of his summer vacation in the Ghost Zone to fulfill his duty as a Prince. 

He thought it would be some paperwork, maybe a battle or two, nothing too bad, but nooo. Because, of course nothing was easy, Danny had to show up at Events, and be Diplomatic. It was meeting, after meeting, after weird parties that were a mix between Medieval Banquets and Debutante balls. 

And worse of all were the marriage proposals. Danny could sorta understand, marrying into royalty was a definite plus for a lot of more powerful ghosts but when they called him a half-breed behind his back, only to smile in his face with a marriage contract in one hand and flowers in the other, that was where he drew the line. 

Plus there was also the fact that he was, like sixteen.

Suffice to say, Danny was exhausted and hiding out in Pariah Dark’s old castle as a last resort. It wasn’t his favorite place all in all, but the gardens were absolutely beautiful, which was where he was walking. He was currently headed to the hedge maze, since it was the best way to get rid of any tails he may or may not have. 

The maze was nasty if it didn’t like you, and it didn’t like anybody but Danny, and even then, it still tried to take a bite every once in a while. Despite the snaking vines and roots trying to capture anything that moved, the flowers that wailed softly when disturbed or the sharp thorns of the hedge plants themselves, it was still a beautiful place. Uniquely, the closer you got to the centre, the more colorful (and dangerous) everything got, which was why he liked it best. 

He reached the centre much quicker than the first time he tried, thanks to the maze actually helping him, and something pale caught his eye right in the middle of the open area, right next to the bench Danny loved to use. As he got closer, he realized it was a swan laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

“Oh no,” Danny said as he approached. “What happened to you?”

As if awakened by the sound of his voice, the swan started to shift, its wings twitching and it rose its head groggily. As soon as it clocked in Danny, it let out a surprised squawk, followed by a long hiss as it struggled to move away.

“Hey, hey, none of that, Duckie, you’re ok.” Danny raised his hands placatingly. “I don’t want to harm you, ok? I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

The hiss subsided by a bit, but that may have only be due to the swan managing to get further away.

“Sh, sh, it’s ok,” Danny repeated as he slowly inched forward. The swan stopped hissing but still observed him warily. “I don’t want to hurt you Duckie, but I do think we’d better get you out of this maze.”

Danny took another step, and this time the swan stayed still. “How about bringing you back to my rooms just for now.” The swan hissed louder at the statement. “Don’t worry Duckie, I’m not keeping you prisoner it’s just this maze has been known to eat people. And you’re too pretty to be eaten,” Danny flashed a smile at the swan which had it stare back with a gaze saying really?

“So what do you say, wanna crash at my place?” Danny asked. The swan didn’t move forward but he didn’t move away either.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust a guy who talks to birds either,” Danny allowed. “And the place where I’m staying is a little gloomy, so I don’t blame you, but I can’t leave you here. The maze is honestly really dangerous, especially for a nice bird is like you. “

The swan seemed to hesitate before it hesitantly made its way to Danny. Ghost animals were usually smart but the swan seemed to understand English, which made communicating that much easier. Danny smiled and opened his arms. “I can carry you.” The swan just looked at him, with what Danny would’ve thought was a deadpan stare. “It would go much faster.”

If the swan was human it probably would’ve sighed, but instead, its wings just fell a little before it waddled towards Danny and looked up as if to say ‘get on with it’.

Danny smiled and gathered the animal in his arms. “Buckle up,” he said before flying off towards the maze exit, which was accompanied by a low hiss. Making sure there was nobody there to ambush him, Danny made it back to the castle in record time.

“Here we are Duckie.” Danny set the swan back down and it plopped down on the ground and just steadied themselves for a while.

Tim was a swan. He had wings and no fingers, and his feet were webbed.

He was handling it though. By which Tim meant he was shelving the impending panic attack for later when he wasn’t stuck in a swan body. 

Ok, so he’d been turned by the Queen of Fables, so there had to be an answer in a fairytale,a way to make him normal again. He knew the ugly duckling story. That had a swan in it, right? He didnt know any other swan stories, except maybe as a dish during the wedding banquet of whichever princess. He vaguely remembered a Barbie movie that had passed on the TV when he was younger but the only thing that came to mind were a scary-looking Troll thing, and ballet.  So with lack of better alternatives he was going to go with the ugly duckling. The ugly duckling’s happy ending was reuniting with family, so maybe all he needed was to make his way back to Gotham.

“Are you ok?” 

And that was another thing. The guy. The one Tim had at first wanted to get away from. He seemed nice and all, but he also had neon green eyes, and fangs. Unfortunately, while they suited the boy very well, they also marked him as an unknown. 

On the other hand, if the glowing portal wasn’t enough of an indication, the green tinge of everything around was clear indicator that Tim wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The guy seemed to want to help him, and having an ally wherever he was could only help.

Tim nodded as best as he could with his long weird neck, and he had to take a few steps to regain balance.

“That’s good,” the boy smiled with his white pointy canine. “How did you end up in the middle of that maze?”

Tim just looks back tiredly. He didn’t know how to even try and explain when he couldn’t say a word and had no opposable thumbs.

“Yeah, sorry.” The boy winced. “Maybe stick to yes or no questions.”

There was a sharp knock at the door that had the boy turning away.

“Prince Phantom!” A voice rung through the door.

Prince? 

The newly-dubbed Prince Phantom got up to open the door, “yes, what can I do for you?”

“Your meeting with Queen Dora is approaching. Do you still prefer to forgo an escort guards?” a purple lady was saying.

“I’ll be fine without, Maj but thank you very much,” Phantom answered with a polite smile.

“I’ll pass it along, my Prince.” She bowed and closed the doors behind her.

Phantom walked back to lay on the bed with a sigh. “I really hate that they call me that.” He turned towards Tim to continue. “I bet swans don’t have royalty. You guys had the right idea.”

[livingdeadgirlflorette]

YOUR FACE ⟡₊⋆∘ carl grimes x fem!reader

summary : with this weird dynamic between helping Carl smoke, tension-filled silence, and longing looks— maybe this time together might be where unspoken words aren't left unsaid.

word count : 4.9k

tags / rundown : fluff, slightly suggestive, smoking, awkward first kiss, confessions, kissing, inaccurate depiction of how smoking affects people, reader isn't good at feelings

a / n : This was in my drafts for such a long time oml! anyways the tile is based of the song "your face" by wisp, I just really liked the song with this :3 this isn't as long as my other fics but I hope you enjoy just as equally <3

dividers by me ! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

PART 1: SO HIGH ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

The smoke that fills Carl's lungs from your mouth gives him another familiar hazy feeling. It's been an unarguable routine from the two of you— whenever you guys get too overstimulated from the Alexandrian kids or just from the adults, you both go to the same clearing you guys met, sit down next to each other, Carl brings his comics to read and you bring your cigarettes.

And something that he'll always look forward to is you helping him smoke. The feeling of your hand holding his face, keeping him steady and blowing the puff you took into his mouth, him taking it in and breathing it out— all the while you both stare into each other's gaze. But as soon as he's done with the drag, you're eyes leave his— going back to your own devices.

your character had bemused him; how one second you both are sharing an intimate moment, holding him softly and with a fondness, and the next you're behaving like nothing had ever even happened.

Carl wanted to dispel that indifference you'd been feigning— that stoic face you'd been masquerading in and out of the walls. He desired to know what was behind all those barriers of distance you'd made to keep yourself safe. He wanted to know you. The real you.

"You know, I think you're ready to take off your training wheels and do it yourself, cowboy." If it wasn't already evident in the sluggish tone, you were relaxed from the amount of puffs you'd been doing already. Lifting your hand and pulling yourself away from him, he stops you by gripping your forearm. He had never done this before, and the unfamiliarity of it had startled you— but then registering his touch had your mind involuntary give you chills in your spine. It felt good, him holding you.

Carl didn't want you to pull away; he wanted to stay forever like this, with your face close and in his space. But he'd have to start saying it before he loses the chance.

"I think I'll need a few more practice runs." He stated boldly. Carl didn't really know what he was trying to say when he blurted that out. All he knew was that he wanted to keep your face close to his. He tilted his head and looked at your lips, before looking back to meet your startled gaze— but as quickly as it had shown on your face, you painted over a mask of nonchalance.

You let out a chuckle. Carl was always one to speak his mind about things, but he always seemed timid when approaching this. You like this side of him. With your free hand, you take another drag of the cigarette before putting in out. With his gaze studying you close, you blow the smoke in his face.

He definitely didn't expect that, because he let go of you forearm and waved his hands in front of his hands to get rid of the waft of smoke from his face. Despite all of this, he still managed to laugh at it.

"Maybe another time." You dismissed. You stand up and look down at him, clueless that he'd been left in the dust. "We gotta get back before they notice, remember?" You finish fixing yourself up before reaching out a hand at his still sat position.

". . ." Carl didn't know how to feel, he looks at the hand reaching out to him and back at you. ". . .Right." He finishes his contemplation and grabs your hand, getting support from you to stand up. He pats himself down to get rid of the dirt on his pants and flannel.

"I'll start walking back. Stay close, okay?" Your voice lets out a stable tone. Hesitant, he nods and goes back to tidy himself up and the comics strewn about on the grass. With that, you turn to the direction of Alexandria and start your walk.

With you figure walking away, Carl was left to drown in his own thoughts. He felt. . . dismayed? All you did was dismiss him but he felt like you threw his heart away doing it. He knew he shouldn't feel like this. He didn't have any right to, you guys weren't anything— You guys were just friends who helped the other smoke, but he didn't want just that. He wanted more. Carl looks back at your decreasing figure before finishing up and jogging to you, matching your pace and falling in step next to you.

He's gonna say something to you about it. He doesn't know when, but he will. He can't stand just being smoking buddies with you— he wants more.

"So. . . do you wanna tell me something you've been hiding from me?" Rick's voice cuts the silence of the dinner table, overpowering the clanking and screeching of utensils against the plates. Carl's movement of taking a spoon of his food slows with his gaze locking with his father's—but then, just as swiftly, he goes back to his normal act, breaking the eye contact.

"I don't know what you mean." He tries to act and put on an air of nonchalance, playing up an act and pretending nothing had happened—just like you do when you and him are in the forest clearing. Carl had never intended for you and him hanging out outside the walls a secret; however, with the fact that his father wanted the best for his son and still tries to show good towards him, he feels like Rick wouldn't be too happy if he found out his son was going outside the gates and smoking—maybe even worse when he finds out he's doing all of that for a girl.

". . ." Rick's eyes are trained on his son in contemplation quietly, watching every calculated movement his son does to see any tick of movement that would give him the assumption of nervousness. He already knew his son was hiding something—but he didn't take him as the type to lie about it; he just wanted to see if he'd tell him the truth.

"Sure then," Rick said. "If that's the case, I guess you wouldn't mind telling me about that girl you go on prancing around outside with?" And with the question alone, Carl stops his next move and fully becomes attentive.

How did his father know? He thought he was good at keeping up his face, but that inquiry from his father left his vocabulary in shambles.

"There's no—what? I don't know what you're—listen, whatever you're trying to say, I— . . . Okay, how did you find out?" Carl blurts out before he deadpans before dropping his utensils in defeat. He figured that trying to defend himself would make things worse, so he'd rather get straight to the point. He isn't going to get anything good out of dodging his dad's interrogation, but he needs to know how he knew first before he tells him.

"It was Tara's turn to keep watch in the tower," Carl should've known. With all the teasing looks he got from her whenever she talked about girls to him and how he would listen intently, he figured maybe Tara was just in a chipper mood these days, but he guessed he was wrong.

"She saw you and the other kid climb the back walls and walk away." His father finished. Carl didn't want to explain to his father why he did it; it'll just send him into a pit of shame. But he figures he'll have to cross that bridge when his father gets to it.

"Now I'm going to ask you this again, and don't lie to me," Rick leans back in his chair, a domineering aura surrounding him. You'd think he'd look all serious and stern—but with Judith squirming and cooing in his lap, it made him less authoritarian and more father-like.

"Do you wanna tell me something you've been hiding from me?" Rick's voice lowered, wanting an actual direct answer from Carl, not the 'I don't know what-you're-talking-about' bullshit he was spewing earlier.Carl didn't know what to say. If he was going to tell his father the truth, he'd have to open up to him about you. And that's hard enough on his own, but to his dad? He doesn't know how that'll go. But it's better now than never. So with a deep, defeated sigh—he starts.

"There's a girl I hang out with, just a few minutes outside the walls from here," Carl recalls the first time you'd met each other and how he told you how smoking was going to kill you. Oh, how much he laughs in his head at the thought of that, especially since he smokes with you now. With Carl finally confessing what Rick wanted him to say, his domineering stance softens, and he adjusts Judith on his lap—who was still moving around, now trying to grab his father's finger using her hands.

"We go to a clearing, and just talk there. She's—. . ." Carl's words pause. He was unsure what to call her; it would be weird calling her an acquaintance since they know each other more than that, and it would be even more peculiar to come out of his mouth calling her a friend—knowing what they've done together.

"She's something else." He finished. There wasn't a word that they could call what they were, and Carl couldn't think of one for the life of him. She really was something else.

"Well—I thank you for being honest with me that time," Rick adjusts himself to help Judith sit properly. "But I wanna know something else." He breathes softly through his nose, readying himself to ask.

"Why?" From the start, when the world fell to shit, Rick knew his son wouldn't be the same as he was before—his character would grow up to be more mature and stoic, having to leave the childlike nature he shortly had and take over this stone-faced disposition. He was forced to forget he was just a boy.

But, with the time that he'd been with that girl, Rick noticed Carl would be less tense, he'd laugh more, and he'd even let out a genuine smile without worry. Something that you had whenever you were with him had turned him back and made him experience what it felt like just to be a teenager. What it felt like to not be always vigilant, just relaxed and content.Carl was left speechless. Just like he couldn't think of what to call what you and him were, he didn't know why he was hanging out with you. Well, he did know; he just didn't want to say it. If he did, he'd have to acknowledge how all of your experiences with him in the forest were something more for him.

"I—I just, like her. She's good company." That was all Carl could say, before scooping another morsel of food and eating it. One confession mixed with another and a half-assed excuse. He knew his father was better to believe just that, but he also knew he wouldn't prod at him anymore.

Rick could read his son like a book. He knew that wasn't just the reason; that girl had done so much for him that Carl didn't even realize it, and he knew his son would think much more about what she was to him, but he knew Carl should let him figure it out himself—rather than condemning him for it. With a fatherly chuckle, he leans a little with the toddler in his arms to pat his son on the shoulder, letting a gentle squeeze.

"I bet she is. But tell her something before you do something stupid." That was all his father said before standing up and bringing Judith with him, walking up to the front door—presumably to sit on the porch with her. Carl seemed to notice that. With the amount of walls they were in, he saw his father felt safe enough to just enjoy the smallest of things, like how he'd just enjoy being with his daughter.

But after finishing his pondering about his father, his father's words rang in his head. 'Tell her something.' Should he? One side of his heart that still believed there was good in this world—how there is still hope in this—told him he should; he should tell her everything he wanted to let out—how entrancing her lips were when they were inches apart from his, how her presence alone could calm all the thundering thoughts pounding in his brain.

But the other side of his that was marred, cynical, and closed-off tells him he shouldn't; well, everything was going great for them, so why should he have the audacity to let himself ruin it? If he did something to shatter that with you, ruin the experiences you already had with him and in the future that you'd have with him just because he decided to do something he wasn't even sure if you'd reciprocate—he'd never forgive himself.

Carl was a mess, and he knew he was. All his thoughts were drowning in confusion just because your person was so enthralling. Your carefree personality and how you let him do the things he thought he could've never done—you were everything he wanted. He wanted you so badly.

But how would he tell you? You seemed so close, yet so distant. All those memories of being close with him and talking about the most nonsensical topics just for the sake of keeping the conversation going were layered on by the other set of events that follow—how after everything you've been through with him, you seemed to shut down—how you didn't allow yourself to get too comfortable with anyone, even him. How whenever you and him pause to get lost in each other's gaze, you flutter your eyes and pull away.

You looked afraid—you seemed to abhor letting people in, seeing who you were when you were vulnerable. Carl despised it. How it felt like you were close and far at the same time, all together. It was like you guys were at a standstill, and he wanted to stop the limbo your character put your relationship in. He needed an answer from you, even if it had the chance of breaking whatever you guys had with each other.

He dropped his fork. God damn it, with all the brainstorming in his mind about how to approach the thought of telling you, he had lost the appetite to eat. With a frustrated sigh, he picks up both his and his father's plates to put in the sink—going to wash it. He'll have to dwell on it later. Right now, he needs to distract himself from the mindless routine of washing the dishes—just to take his mind off it, off of you.

With the passing of the cigarette smoke, Carl looks back at your face. He wonders if he should listen to the wise words of his father and tell her the truth. But he's scared. He laughs at the thought; after all these years of living and surviving through this wretched apocalypse and off all things, the one thing he was most scared of was losing you. It was ridiculous to him; he's done heinous acts just to keep going in this cycle of life—yet he thinks that confessing what he felt to you would be the end of his world.

"What's wrong, you look?" You tilt your head in inquiry, visibly confused. Carl didn't even notice that you'd seen him staring at you, observing you like this would be the last time he'd ever see you.

"Sad. Or you could just be constipated with how concentrated you look."

Even with the amount of things he's been feeling about you and pondering the aftermath of what could happen if he told you—you still managed to make him let out a chuckle.

"I was thinking." Carl huffs a breath out. He was thinking, thinking of what you'd say. Without skipping a beat, you follow up on what he had said. "Thinking about what?"

As you ask, you take a drag of the lit stick of tobacco and gently grab his chin, just like you always did. No matter the repetitiveness, he'll always welcome that hazy feeling of you getting close.

But before you get to exchange the smoke in your mouth, he places his hand over yours that was holding him, looking at you with such a focus that could burn through your eyes. With his action, your movements halt from being startled, and you involuntarily let the puff in your mouth out slowly.

"This." Carl looked into your gaze. Just like the last time you were this close, you had pulled away. But you aren't sure if you'd like that. "I was thinking about you."

With the confession leaving the tip of his tongue, your face formed a light flush. Carl was always forward with you about things, but never this upfront about his feelings for you. Contrary to his belief, you know. You knew what he felt, ever since he had started to smoke with you.

Even though he was going through the same burden as you, he felt like he had to be there with you first. You hated it. You didn't hate Carl; you hated how you felt about it and how it felt with him. How you let the walls of your heart come down when it came to him, even after everything that you swore would never break. With a doubtful look slowly painting your face, you can't help but try to distance yourself from him.

"Oh. That's. . . interesting." With a heavy feeling, your vision goes to anywhere but his, finally breaking the chain of eye contact you'd been sharing in the blanket of silence. "I've been thinking too, about— stuff." You had muttered awkwardly, saying anything that comes out of your mind, just to fill the awkward silence.

"You think you can tell me?" Even with your eyes off him, you can still feel his perceptive gaze. Carl didn't want you to crawl back into that timid disposition you always had put up; he wanted you to open up to him—let him in that mind of yours.

"If I say it," you paused. "It's going to ruin everything." Your voice had barely let out the last sentence, your tone trembling. Your heart wanted to tell Carl everything—how your body felt flush whenever he did something to gauge a reaction from you, how you wanted his body near you—not just from helping him smoke—but more than that.

But would saying what you had wanted ruin the relationship that was one of the only highlights of surviving in this apocalypse? Will saying what you had dreamed of saying destroy what he had thought of you?

But with your self-doubt clouding your mind and making your body still, you had barely registered the warmth of Carl's hand on yours, holding it with such care you'd think of it more of an intimate gesture. With a gentle call of your name, he assures you.

"Hey, nothing you do will ruin—" Carl paused, unsure if he should state it as what they are. Friends? He isn't even sure at this point. "-will ruin us, okay? I won't get mad."

"I'm not expecting you to be mad," you counter. "I expect that you'll feel betrayed." You finished. If Carl didn't reciprocate what you felt, you were sure he'd be confused. Would he think that all you did with him was just an elaborate ruse to get him closer to you? You weren't certain, but you had an idea it would go down that route if he did.

"If you aren't sure how to tell me, then show me." Carl tilts his head, coyly lacing his time. Whenever he does those mannerisms, you always thought he looked cute. He didn't look like a stone-faced killer that was brought upon this apocalypse anymore, but just a teenager going through regular stuff, feeling normal things.

With that, you contemplate. You were irritated at yourself for not saying anything; it was as if your heart was in your mouth—disabling you from telling what you desired. But with a deep breath, you lean in close to Carl—his eyes going wide for a second, then adjusting to this newfound distance.

Carl knows he shouldn't be nervous; you've been in his vicinity close to him like this dozens of times. But with this unexplored feeling brewing in his stomach, he feels like he should be—because you were going to do something else.

"Don't—don't freak out, okay?" Your voice is so close to him, it makes his ears flush red. He's lucky he had long hair; he was sure you'd tease him for it if you had seen them.

The tension felt thick, just like all the times you had been close to his lips, mere centimeters away. Sometimes you wish that the times you were that close you'd just lean in and kiss him, but inevitably you always pull away.

And just like that, you realize that your embarrassment gets the better of you again. You pull away slowly; you think this is stupid. You shouldn't have done that. You turn away, one of your hands covering your face that was starting to burn up.

"I-uh, sorry, I think I should go back, yeah. I'm sorry—" Your face turned back to his. But before you could let out another apology, a pair of soft lips had met yours, your eyes fluttering shut.

Carl had kissed you. You had dreamt of what it felt like to kiss him. But now that it was actually happening, you felt so surreal. With a hesitant state, you tested the waters and kissed him back, a light push to see what it felt. His lips were chapped, understandable since chapstick didn't seem like a necessity in the apocalypse, but his lips felt gentle.

When you felt the absence of soft pressure on your lips, you fluttered your eyes at him. You were sure your cheeks were burning at this point; it was uncontrollable. Once you guys were at a normal sitting distance from one another, you finally piped up.

"That was, uh, good." Your voice barely above a whisper. Both your gazes found one another, and then, with heat creeping up your neck, you had looked away.

"Thank you, I guess...?" Confusion had still not left your tone. With this, you were also perplexed by your own words. What were you thankful for?

"Why are you thanking me?" Carl's voice didn't seem to miss a beat, going back to his playful self. You were thankful for this—how he could always help lighten your guys' mood even when it was awkward.

"I don't know, okay!" You let out a genuine laugh. "I've never had to think about what to say after. . . that." Your eyes met his. He seemed to have a glint in his eye, telling you all you needed to know that he was planning something mischievous.

"Well. . ."

"Yeah. . ."

This was one of the things that made you abhor having to actually commit to kissing him—the aftermath. What would become of you and Carl? Would it be just unbearably awkward, and you'd never have enough courage to look him in the face again? Or would it help express your blossoming feelings towards you and him?

"I've always liked you, y'know?" Carl speaks up first—his tone soft and careful, breaking the silence you both have been dreading. But with just a few words of confession, he seemed to melt through that weird tension that had permeated through the space between you.

"I know—or like I. . . knew, I guess?" Your voice comes out meek, nervous about what was still happening.

His face went slack—his face contorting to shock and embarrassment, with a noticeable flush of red rising up his ears.

"Wait wha-? How did you even-what. . .?!" His voice was getting higher, something you picked up on when he was getting nervous.

With a small giggle, you answer his question. "It doesn't take a detective to find out you like me, Carl. You were quite obvious." Your face grows a smirk, creating a playful atmosphere.

He looks away with another wave of shyness. This was disastrous. Was he really that obvious? "It couldn't have been that obvious." With a slow turn, he looks back at you. ". . .right?"

"Do you really think you were that slick? You looked." You paused, unsure whether to say what actually was on your mind. He looked in love, but you figured you shouldn't—it would be too fast.

". . . nevermind. It's just that eyes don't lie, Carl, and the way you look at me—it seems very telling." You end your sentence with a smile. With everything out of the bag, you felt light as a feather—with nothing left to hide from him.

"If you knew then, why did you stop?"

"What?" His question seemed vague, out of nowhere.

"Why didn't you kiss me?" Carl was sure you could tell his heartbeat going haywire, feeling the vibration of it beating up to the tips of his ears. He sounded so desperate, but he didn't care. All he wanted right now was an answer.

"Oh! Uh. . ." You didn't expect how much he looked like he was yearning, waiting for something, anything from you. Saying you were scared would be embarrassing, but with everything you and Carl already did, there didn't seem like anything else to do but go forward and be honest with him.

"It's a stupid reason," you say, looking up at him, with bashfulness filling your face.

Without skipping a beat, Carl's hand had already gone to yours to intertwine. He didn't seem to know it, but that simple gesture was already melting away that air of dread that was coercing you to not say it.

"If what you're going to say is stupid, then what does that make what we did?" His eye had a glint of wit that he always had when he wanted to cheer you up, encouraging you to go on.

With your free hand and the still-lit cigarette in hand, you take a long drag. It was funny to you how this small stick of nicotine used to be the only thing of happiness that helped you get through it—to go on and keep living. But now, the thing that was your hope and joy in this world was right next to you. 

"A bad idea?" You finally answer his rhetorical question.

With a dry chuckle, he looks to you and just gazes. He never thought that you'd feel the same way, let alone reciprocate kissing him. He felt like the happiest he's ever been since coming to Alexandria.

"I felt," Your mouth opens to let out another word, but you shut it quickly. Taking a deep breath and looking at the sky. "Afraid and. . . guilty is what I'd put as how I felt about you, I guess."

"Why would you feel that way?"

"'Cause it's you!" You look back at him, incredulous, and your hands gesture to his whole character.

"You and me, we were cool, y'know? And we just hung out; everything was going fine, and I didn't want to ruin. . ." You then gestured to both of you. "This, I suppose."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. I told you it was stupid." You look back at the golden hour of the sky, then just slump. It felt freeing telling him that, but it also filled you with shyness. This whole situation just made you want to get eaten by walkers alive and just sink into the world.

"I don't think it's stupid." His free hand goes to fix the loose hair that fell to your face and tuck it to your ear. The fact that his hand was ever so close to your face had your skin burn up so fast you're sure he already sees your skin blushing.

"I think it's cute."

Your eyes went shocked, but then quickly roll your eyes at the cheesy reply.

"Oh, just shut it already." You both giggle and simply bask in the playful mood that was created.

"No, I'm c'mon seriously!"

"You being 'serious' isn't you laughing, Carl." You smile and laugh as you say your quip. With a smile on his face and a shake of his head, you continue your tyrant of laughter.

But your laughter had come to a halt when he had lifted his head and held both your wrists, and he had said your name. "I like you, okay? You're so good to me, and you're such a comfort to come to when I need solace, and I just. . ."

As if the tables had turned, now he was the one losing his words, them dying at his throat.

"I just need you; is that enough? Can I please be with you?"

"If I ever say no to that, I think I'd need a checkup from our clinic."

Your response went out as fast as he had asked, eager and happy that he had finally decided that he wanted to be with you.

"Yes, I mean." With a final look from one another just looking into each other's gaze full of love and admiration, you both take a shy push in and finally kiss again, something you think you'll never grow tired of. But Carl pulls away just a breath away from your lips, wanting to get one last word in that he knows you won't ever forget—before he goes back in for more.

"I'm never gonna let you go."

woowee!! it's been a hot minute since I've posted! sorry guys for all of the people that were waiting for me to post when I never did, right now I've been really into my academics and I'm elbow deep into like 4 pending submissions to pass next week lolol!!11 anyways sorry for the rambling, I hope you enjoyed reading! ✮⋆˙ what did you think of this? don't be a silent reader and let me know ⭑.ᐟ

tags: @carlslvr @shadowybasementmiracle @kawliflo @xictoriiaa

wanna be tagged the next time I post my fics? tell me so I can ꩜ .ᐟ

[fics-and-quotes-andthelike]

Better Late Than Never

Title: Better Late Than Never

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female reader

Word Count: ~2,143

In which the reader’s love language is physical touch, but has never touched Dean…in public.

A/N: I really hope you guys like this one! Thanks so much for reading and for your support. If you have any requests for a fic, feel free to give me a character and a prompt/explanation for what you’d like!

Your love language has always been physical touch. A quick brush of hands here, an innocent kiss to the cheek there. Whether it was your friend or your significant other, touch was just something you used to show that you cared.

So it meant a lot to you when, after you moved in with the Winchesters, Sam had quickly picked up on your love language and allowed you to give him occasional hugs. He’d also gone out of his way to hug you, or even just put a reassuring hand on your shoulder once in a while.

But even though you felt more than comfortable with Sam, you were the first to admit that you’d never so much as given Dean a high five.

In front of others.

In the privacy of an empty bunker or motel room, you and Dean had no problem brushing against each other and exchanging brief touches. Eventually, the brief touches had turned into longer ones, and hands drifted from your shoulder to the small of your back. Then those touches turned into sitting right beside each other, your head resting on his shoulder as he peppered kisses on the top of your head. And after that, kisses on your head turned to kisses on your lips, while hands on your back turned into hands grasping your hips.

But as soon as Sam, Cas, Charlie, or anyone else walked through the door, you would revert back to no touches at all.

It’s not that you didn’t want to. He truly meant the world to you. But every time someone would walk into the room, he would pull away. And you never wanted to make Dean feel uncomfortable, even if it was killing you inside. So, to respect his space, you’d never so much as given Dean a high five in front of other people.

Until today.

A hunt had gone sideways when a djinn had outsmarted the three of you and gotten its hands on Dean while you and Sam had been out getting dinner.

When you got back to the motel room to see that Dean was gone and not answering his phone, you and Sam had come up with a plan. A questionable plan, for sure, but it was all that you could come up with in the limited time that you were allowed.

Now, the two of you sat in Baby, reviewing the plan before you burst into the abandoned warehouse where Dean was being kept.

“Whatever you do, don’t engage with the djinn, got it? I’ll take care of him, you take care of Dean.”

You nodded stiffly, your eyes on the building ahead. “I hear you, I got it. But if you’re in any trouble-”

Sam sighed in exasperation. “Would you just listen to me for a second-”

You looked up at him, fury in your gaze. “I will not let that djinn take you, too.”

Sam’s gaze softened. For all of the sweet touches that you passed around, you were still a hunter, willing to hurt anything that came between you and your family.

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and leaned towards you. “Hey. We’re going to be okay, alright? Us and Dean, we’re getting out of here. And that djinn isn’t gonna know what hit him.”

He kept his hand on your shoulder until you finally nodded in agreement, a half smile taking shape on your lips. You took a deep breath and checked the bullets in your gun and the knife hidden in your jacket as Sam checked the knife dipped in lamb’s blood and the colt in his holster one last time.

As you went through your mental checklist, you couldn’t help the bolt of fear that shot through you when you realized that the djinn could have easily killed Dean hours ago.

You shook your head at the thought. Dean was tough, and if the djinn was probably desperate to make his life force last as long as possible.

You shook out your nerves one last time before you straightened up and looked towards Sam. “Alright,” you muttered. “Let’s get this thing.”

The two of you got out of the car quietly before making your way to the door of the warehouse. Sam put a finger to his lips as he tried the door. You both made a face of surprise when the door gave way easily. Sam led the way as you crept inside, hoping against all odds that the rest of the revue would go this smoothly.

But of course, it wouldn’t really be a Winchester hunt if nothing went wrong.

As soon as you and Sam entered the building, you were ambushed by the waiting djinn. With the advantage of surprise on its side, it quickly overpowered Sam and tossed him to the side before it turned its attention toward you.

You cursed under your breath and raised your gun, knowing full well that it and your knife would do nothing to save you, since the plan had been that you would never have to face the djinn. The djinn smiled at your panic, pacing towards you swiftly.

Suddenly, Sam appeared once again behind the djinn. The djinn whirled around and just barely managed to dodge the knife that Sam swung its way.

Sam risked a glance over to you. “Go! Get Dean!”

You nodded, though he had already turned back to face the djinn.

You looked around wildly, hoping for some kind of sign as to where Dean could be. You startled when you heard faint gasping coming from one of the rooms to your right.

Dean. You sighed in relief as you followed the sound. He had probably saved himself from his fantasy world. You shuddered as you remembered what he’d had to do to escape his dream, and started moving faster.

You entered the room cautiously, gun in hand. From your left, a weak voice croaked out your name.

You whirled around to find Dean weak and bound, but utterly alive. You felt tears well up in your eyes as you ran over to him, shoving your gun back in its holster so that you could grab your knife and cut through his bindings.

Dean looked up at you and smiled weakly. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You ignored him, focused solely on setting him free. Your hands were shaking, making it harder to cut through the ropes. Finally, with an extra push, your knife cut through. You dropped it so that you could catch Dean, who slumped forward as soon as he was able to move again.

You slowly lowered the two of you to the ground, allowing him to catch his breath. “Are you okay?” you asked, a slight tremor in your voice.

Dean looked up at you, his eyes soft as he searched your face. “I’m alright.”

His gaze sharpened suddenly, and he looked around the room. “Where’s Sammy?”

Your head snapped over to the door, through which you could hear sounds of a fight. You cursed lightly under your breath as you stood.

Dean moved to stand as well, but you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back lightly. “Stay here,” you ordered. “I’ll help Sam.”

“I’m not gonna-”

“Stay. Here.”

Dean eyed you stubbornly, but seemed to think better of himself, and nodded once for you to go on. He watched as you picked up your knife and handed it to him before you exited the room, jumping straight into the fight.

He sighed and leaned back against the wall behind him. Normally, he wouldn’t have stayed behind, regardless of what you or Sam said. But as he lay still against the wall, he couldn’t help but remember the dream that he’d been forced into.

You, him, and Sam. There’d been no more monsters. No fighting, no war. Just the three of you, living peacefully.

Jess had been there. She and Sam had gotten married, and Sam was the happiest man around. Or maybe not the happiest. Dean himself had been pretty happy too, with you by his side, through sickness and health. Finally free to hug and love each other freely, regardless of who was around.

He smiled as he looked back on it, but immediately broke out of his memory and jerked to attention as he heard footsteps enter the room.

Panic filled his body. Was it the djinn? Had he gotten to you and Sam? He clutched the knife you had given him in his hand, ready to make good use of it.

He heard Sam call out his name, relief filling his body. Dean opened his eyes and stood slowly, smiling at the two hunters watching him with concerned eyes. “Hey, Sammy.”

You heard Sam laugh breathlessly in relief while your eyes raked over Dean’s body, making sure that he wasn’t hiding an injury.

Dean tilted his head slightly, meeting your eyes. “I’m fine. Honest.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You were aware of Sam saying something next to you, but you couldn’t focus on his words, your attention solely on Dean.

When Dean looked over at you again, a small smile on his lips and concern in his eyes, you couldn’t help yourself. You threw down your weapon and ran over, throwing yourself into his arms.

You’d never been hugged like that before.

His arms wound themselves around your body and tightened, pressing you against him. His hands were open, one resting on your shoulder and one on your side, both tugging you closer than you thought possible. His head rested on top of yours, and he murmured reassurances into your ear as he slowly rocked you side to side.

Through it all, you could faintly hear the sound of Sam leaving the room, giving the two of you some space.

When you finally pulled back, Dean’s hands didn’t leave you, instead resting on your hips as he pressed his forehead to yours.

Your hands fluttered between his shoulders, his neck, and his face as you closed your eyes and inhaled a shaky breath. “I thought you were dead.”

Dean chuckled and gave the barest shake of his head, bringing his hands up to rest them on yours where they sat cradling his face. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You laughed. “Because my life revolves around you?”

“Because then we’d never be able to tell Sam about us.”

You felt your face change, your smile dropping as you stepped away from Dean.

He looked back at you as his arms dropped down to his sides, hurt evident on his face. “What did I do? Are we not…?”

“No!” You exclaimed, shaking your head quickly.

You saw disappointment and shame flit across his features. You shook your head again. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant…I just…I wasn’t sure.”

“Sure about what?”

“It’s just…” You steeled yourself. “You always pull away from me. I thought maybe you were embarrassed or something. Or maybe you just wanted me to help you feel better-”

Dean’s whole body jerked with surprise and he stepped towards you, arms outstretched. “No, sweetheart, that’s not it at all. I’m just…” He hesitated, only a step away from you as his arms dropped. “I’m not good with mushy gushy crap. You know that.”

You smiled cautiously. “I know. Nothing wrong with that.”

He nodded, unmoving.

You took a step towards him. “Maybe we could…work on it together?”

A smirk crossed his face as he reached an arm around your back and pulled you closer. “Oh, yeah?”

A laugh crossed your lips. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Dean leaned his head down to softly brush his lips against yours. “I know.”

You felt him stiffen as you both heard footsteps re-enter the room, with Sam loudly complaining, “You guys good to go?”

You moved to pull away, muscle memory taking over, when Dean suddenly cupped your face with one hand and pressed his other hand against your back. His eyes searched yours. “Is this okay?”

Your heart was hammering against your chest, the knowledge that what you said could determine your whole relationship with both Winchesters weighing on your brain.

You heard Sam’s footsteps moving closer and smiled breathlessly. “Yeah,” you managed to say before he connected his lips to yours.

“Guys,” Sam repeated as he stepped into the room. His eyes landed on the two of you, your hands cupping Dean’s face as he pulled you closer still. He chuckled and turned away, but not before shouting, “It’s about time!”

He could hear Dean telling him where to shove it as he walked away, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that the two of you genuinely believed that nobody had noticed your secret relationship these past two years.

Oh well, he thought to himself. Better late than never.

[hannyoontify]

casual - yoon jeonghan

member | childhood best friend!jeonghan x fem!oc

genre | fluff, angst and angst and lots of angst, childhood best friends to ???

word count | 12k

synopsis | throughout her childhood, jeonghan was the one constant in jeong-ah's life. he was her rock and she was his. but there was always an unspoken tension between the two, something that made jeong-ah's stomach flutter and her pulse race. was it casual, like jeonghan said? or was there a possibility of it being something more?

warnings | kissing, a bit of cursing, oc is insecure abt her freckles, jeonghan and oc are both lowk products of the ultimate asian immigrant ‘tiger-mom’ parenting stereotype, jeonghan smokes half a cigarette

playlist | i also ended up making a playlist for this fic too bc i was so into it so here!

notes | inspired by this post from a while back AND I KNOW. PEOPLE HATE OC’S BUT PLEASE. js hear me out for this one. pls.  also a huge huge hugeeeeee thank you to the literal freaking best @fairyhaos for beta-ing this long ass fic. you’re seriously the best ilysm!!  and last but not least, happy birthday jeonghan!! thank you for always bringing a smile to our faces and gracing us with your love and presence.

Was it casual when you called my biggest insecurity beautiful stars?

“Shhh,” Jeonghan pressed his finger against his lips, stopping me from reading my paragraph aloud. “I think we won. Everyone else fell asleep.”

I looked up from The Last Olympian, the latest book of the Percy Jackson series that we were reading together, to see what he was talking about. All of our younger siblings were asleep in a messy pile of tangled blankets, pillows, and limbs on the floor next to the bed Jeonghan and I were currently lying in.

“We win the bet every year. Should we make them do the dishes this year?” I whispered. Jeonghan opened his mouth to say something when we both heard footsteps in the hallway outside. We frantically scrambled for the blanket and hurriedly tugged it over our heads, just in time as a parent opened the door to Jeonghan’s bedroom.

“They’re asleep.”

“As they should be,” another voice chimed in. “They’re still kids, pulling an all-nighter isn’t good for them.”

I couldn’t hear the first parent’s response as they closed the door and retreated back downstairs. Jeonghan poked me in the rib to grab my attention and once I was looking at him, he wiggled his brows, which I immediately took as a bad sign. He reached behind and pulled out a flashlight, shining it directly into my eyes.

I suppressed a yell and raised my arm to smack him. “Don’t-” Smack. “Do that.” Slap.

Jeonghan laughed and grabbed the side of his arm where I had hit him, jutting his bottom lip out into a faux pout. “I’m sorry, Jeong-ah. Will you forgive me?”

“No.”

“Even if I let you read the rest of this chapter?”

I paused to think about it. “... Okay, fine.”

With that, I grabbed the novel and flipped through until I found the page we last left off on. Jeonghan dimmed the flashlight to its lowest setting and aimed it towards the book as I began to read aloud in a quiet voice about Percy taking a swim in the River Styx.

We were lying on our stomachs with Jeonghan’s blanket over our heads as we delved further and further into the realm of Greek gods and goddesses. Every once in a while, one of us would shift and move around to try and get in a comfortable position. Eventually, we found a position we were comfortable with–our legs on top of one another and Jeonghan’s head resting on my forearm as I read aloud.

Thank God the chapter I was reading was a longer chapter. I didn’t like it when Jeonghan read out loud–not necessarily because he was bad, he really was good and read at a good pace–but because he liked to do this thing where he had these ridiculous voices set for all the different characters and he would overdramatize everything. I didn’t know how he remembered which voice belonged to which character, but it was funny and it never failed to make me laugh(or lose concentration).

Eventually, I had to shake Jeonghan off my arm because I was slowly starting to lose feeling in my hand. “Hannie, your big, fat head is about to get my right hand amputated.”

“Ouch, that was a bit too harsh, don’t you think?” Despite acting offended, Jeonghan immediately lifted his head off of my arm, which I appreciated, and lay back down on a pillow right next to my arm.

“Sorry, but the truth hurts.” I smiled and got back to reading.

Jeonghan kept his eyes trained on my face as I continued to read about how Percy was barely able to survive an attack from Ethan Nakamura, at the cost of Annabeth’s well-being. Jeonghan’s tendency to stare at me wasn’t new, and at this point, I was pretty used to it. Most often than not, he wasn’t even staring–he was just spacing out, thinking about something I’d never be able to comprehend, like quantum physics or something. 

Once I reached the end of the chapter, I looked over at Jeonghan, who was now fixated on the back of my hand. “Hannie, did you even hear anything I just read?”

“Uh-huh. River Styx. Curse of Achilles. Morpheus and Hecate. Ethan Nakamura.” Jeonghan responded in a soft voice.

“Are you-”

“Jeong-ah, I’m too tired to read. Can we just lie here?”

“... Okay.” I put the book down and shifted onto my back but Jeonghan stayed on his side, facing me.

I peeked outside the blanket. It was nearly midnight and the night sky was so clear I could nearly see every crater on the moon’s surface. A navy to black gradient night sky was the perfect backdrop for the full moon tonight. The bright, yellow glow from the moon provided enough light in the room for me to recognize all the silhouettes on the floor. I heard a small snore from the pile and smiled.

Retreating back under the blanket, I discreetly snuggled into Jeonghan’s side. Our only source of light was the flashlight, which was shining above our heads.

Jeonghan reached for my hand and I let him as he began lightly tracing indiscernible patterns onto the back of my hand. This went on for a while until I couldn’t ignore the tingling sensation anymore and I giggled at the feeling.

“Hannie, it tickles. What are you doing?”

“You have freckles?”

Oh, he was talking about the tiny freckles I had on the back of my hands. They had been there for as long as I could remember and it had always been an insecurity of mine. I remembered, when I was younger, my dad used to gently hit the back of my hands every night as a way of getting rid of those “damned” freckles. I hated it.

Because of society’s beauty standards, I learned to be ashamed of my freckles as I grew older. The longer I had my freckles, the more I grew to hate them. My mother always told me that it was because I didn’t apply enough sunscreen before going out and I was thankful for the wintertime because my freckles were less visible in the sun than they were in the summer and I learned to hide them from the sun as much as possible. 

So I was surprised that Jeonghan had even noticed the freckles in the first place, especially because it was December and my skin hadn’t seen the light of the sun for a couple of days now, thanks to the rainy weather.

“Um, yeah. I’ve had them since I was young,” I pulled my hand away and stuck it behind my back. “Ignore it, they won’t disappear no matter what I try.”

“No, Jeong-ah, they’re beautiful.”

“What?”

“They’re beautiful.”

“No, they’re not.”

“Yes, they are.”

“Why?”

Jeonghan laughed in what seemed to be frustration. “Jeong-ah, those freckles signify you. Your experiences and your growth, why are you embarrassed of them?”

“I don’t know. I was always told they were ugly and something to be ashamed of.”

“Jeong-ah, this just might be my most favorite part of you.”

“Really? Not my hilarious, sexy, bodacious humor?”

“What the fuck does bodacious mean? Regardless, yes.”

“But they’re like… little moles?”

“So? I have moles.”

“But it’s like a whole bunch of them in the same area and it’s gross.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.” 

“No, it isn’t.”

“Then what is it?”

Jeonghan grabbed my hands and stared at the tens of freckles that were distributed along the backs of my hands. I hated them.

“They’re… beautiful, glowing, tiny stars.”

“... What?”

“Beautiful, glowing, tiny stars sprinkled across a wide expanse of a night sky that is you.”

A pause. 

“Are you sure you’re a sixth grader because that was deeply poetic, Hannie.”

“You make me a poet.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, was that weird?”

Not at all, I thought to myself. My heart had begun to beat erratically and I was pretty sure I knew why.

“No… I like it.”

“Good. But-” Jeonghan suddenly let go of my hands so he could reach above his head and stretch. “I’m getting tired, JeongJeong. Let’s go to sleep.”

“Okay. Good night, Jeonghan.”

“Good night, Jeong-ah.”

That night, I fell asleep with my head pressed against Jeonghan’s side as his fingers gently ran across the skin on the back of my hands, over my new favorite part of me, soothing me into deep slumber with a familiar warm and tingly feeling in my heart and stomach.

Was it casual if I still think of you when I see lemons?

“Hi, Mrs. Yoon! It’s so good to see you!” I greeted Jeonghan’s mother with a tight hug and a grin. 

She hugged me back and smoothed her hand through my hair with a sweet smile. “How are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m doing great!”

“No boyfriend yet?” she asked jokingly. I chuckled along with her and Jeonghan rolled his eyes. 

“Mom, don’t bother her with questions like that. C’mon, Jeong-ah, let’s go to my room.”

As we retreated further into the house, Mrs. Yoon yelled from the kitchen, “Make sure to give her a tour of the house!”

The Yoon family had moved again recently, so it was only natural for Jeonghan to give me a quick house tour. Passing by the living room, I noticed that our younger siblings had already situated themselves by the coffee table with their dolls and toys. I smiled at the sight.

The last part of the tour was his room. It looked eerily similar to his old room but at the same time, it was completely different.

“Woah, your room is so big.”

Jeonghan sprawled out against his bed. “Yeah, it’s great. Especially since I don’t have to share rooms with my older brother now,” He looked around his room with a proud look on his face. “I have a basic layout down, but I still want to move around some things and decorate.”

I jumped into his bed, joining him on his comforter. “Ooh, with what?”

“You know, pictures and posters of basketball and football.”

I hummed. “You better have a picture of us together.”

“How could I forget?” Jeonghan rolled his eyes at me sarcastically and I laughed. “But I already have a Packers poster-”

I threw my wadded up ball of socks I had just taken off at him. “I’m telling you, Raiders are better.”

“Ew, get your nasty socks and opinions away from me.” Jeonghan threw my socks back at me with a disgusted look and I laughed. “I know it’s your opinion, but your opinion is just plain wrong in this situation.”

“Whatever, Hannie. You know I’m right.” I stuck my tongue out at him and looked up at his ceiling.

His new ceiling didn’t have the glow-in-the-dark stars he had in his old room and I frowned. “Hannie, you don’t have your stars anymore.”

He looked at me, confused. “What stars?”

“Our stars. The glow-in-the-dark ones we put up at your old house?”

Jeonghan rubbed his hand along the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah… I just thought they were getting a bit childish for me now.”

My frown deepened. “Childish? What do you mean, childish?”

“I mean, we’re eighth graders now, Jeong-ah. We’re gonna be high schoolers soon and I think glow-in-the-dark stars might be a bit too childish for a high schooler.”

My face fell. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry, JeongJeong.”

I tried my best to smile and brighten up. “It’s okay, Hannie. It’s personal preference. It’s your room, not mine.”

“Thanks. Well, do you wanna get started on math?”

“Okay! You better be a good teacher.”

Jeonghan laughed as I climbed off his bed. “No promises, JeongJeong.”

For the next hour and a half, Jeonghan and I sat on the floor of his new bedroom, solving algebra equations. He was sitting across from me, and I stared at him whenever I thought he wasn’t looking. I don’t know when it happened, but something about him had changed.

His shoulders seemed more broad and his facial features had somehow sharpened. We always knew that Jeonghan had attractive facial features, but when he was younger, he was much softer and adorable. In the past few weeks I’d seen him, he seemed more adult-like. Was this what puberty did to a person?

Sure, I already knew about the effects puberty had—I wasn’t exactly a late bloomer myself. But to see Jeonghan, my best friend who used to get bathed in the same sink as me before either of us could talk, having a taller, lankier build made me feel something in my stomach.

The fact that I had a crush on Jeonghan for a while now was no big secret either. All of my friends at school knew about it (thank God he went to a different school), and even my sisters and his younger sister knew too. Just a couple weeks ago, I confided in his sister about my not-so-little crush on her older brother.

Initially, Sua was a bit grossed out by the whole thing. Her brother? Out of all people? Despite feeling weird about it, she told me that she always thought we looked good together and she had always rooted for us for as long as she could remember. 

I had laughed when she said the last part, but that night, I tossed and turned in bed all night as I imagined what my life would be like if we were together. Would he pick me up every Wednesday like he always did, but with flowers instead of packets of algebra equations? Would he hug me more often instead of the awkward occasional side hug we did ever since I started puberty?

There had been so many instances where I considered gathering up the courage to tell him about my crush on him, and I always thought I had a chance, too. There was something about the way he looked at me whenever we were playing Mario Kart that told me he considered me more than a childhood friend.

Out of the blue, Jeonghan set down his pencil. “Wanna take a break?”

I looked up from my worksheet with a meek smile. “Please?”

He laughed and stood up, helping me up with him. “Come on, I haven’t shown you the backyard yet.”

My eyes widened with excitement. “You guys have a backyard?” 

“Mhm! There’s a lemon tree too. It belongs to the neighbors but they told us we can take from it whenever we want.”

I excitedly followed Jeonghan out into the hallway, living room, and to the backyard. It wasn’t the most spacious backyard I’d seen but there was enough area for all of the kids to play. 

I looked around, observing the trees lined up against the fence. “Where’s the lemon tree?”

“Try looking for it.” Jeonghan shrugged and walked around the backyard aimlessly.

I playfully rolled my eyes and began looking through the different trees to try and look for the lemon tree. The sun was hot and bright, making me feel sticky and gross. The forecast wasn’t joking when it said that summer was finally here, because the early July heat was making me sweat like no other. 

“Jeong-ah, a little birdie told me that you have a not-so-little crush on me.”

I froze in my tracks. “What?” My heart was racing at what felt like a hundred miles a minute and I frantically searched for something to say.

“Is it true?”

I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt with a nervous laugh. “Um… it depends?”

“Depends?” Jeonghan looked at me with an unreadable expression.

“Yeah? I mean it depends on a lot of things, right? Like your definition of like and my definition of like might be different and what do you mean by little bir-”

“I like you too,” Jeonghan interrupted my rambling with a smile. “Follow me, I’ll show you the lemon tree.”

I was so stunned that I could only wordlessly follow Jeonghan to a small space between the wall of his house and the wooden fence separating his backyard from the neighbor’s. 

At the edge stood a small lemon tree that hung over the fence. The actual tree itself was planted on the neighbor’s property but it had received so much love and care that its branches grew up and over the fence onto the Yoon property. 

“Woah… It’s so pretty. I can see some lemons beginning to ripen,” I reached up on the tips of my toes but the closest lemon was still too high up for me to reach. From behind me, Jeonghan laughed at my feeble attempt and effortlessly reached up for the lemon, ripping it away from the branch. 

My breath got caught in my throat at the way Jeonghan was looming over me. I was always the taller one when we were younger; when did he get so tall? He wasn’t that tall yet but there was a noticeable height difference that made my heart flutter. 

Jeonghan handed me the lemon and I thanked him with a small smile. “Jeonghan, about what you said earlier…”

He turned around to face me with a shy smile. It was obvious he was blushing by the way the tips of ears and his cheeks were flushed with a shade of bright pink. “Yeah, I like you. And Sua told me.”

“Why, that little—” I was about to storm into the house to give his little sister a piece of my mind, but because the walkway was so narrow, I wouldn’t have been able to pass without Jeonghan moving out of the way. I took a few steps forward, expecting him to get out of the way, except he didn’t.

“Can you, like, scooch? So I can—”

“I really want to kiss you right now,” Jeonghan said seriously. His eyes held an intense and serious gaze I had never seen from him before. The Jeonghan I knew was playful and lighthearted. Right now, whatever this was, this was the complete opposite.

“You should, if you really want to,” I managed to say breathlessly before Jeonghan took a step closer and captured my lips with his in one, swift movement. He placed a hand on my cheek, gently guiding my face up so my lips would be pressed gently into his.

I’d always been a hopeless romantic for as long as I can remember. I always dreamed of the perfect first kiss with the perfect person. It would be romantic, it would be swoon-worthy, and it would be everything I had ever seen and heard of from the books and movies.

Like fireworks. I always read about the fireworks feeling a person would get when they’d kissed ‘The One’ for the first time. I’ve always wondered when I would be able to kiss ‘The One’ and what those fireworks would feel like.

There were almost 8 billion people in the world. Statistics and studies show that an average human being meets about 80,000 people while they live. That would mean one only meets 0.00001% of the world’s population in their lifetime, which means I had almost 0% chance of meeting ‘The One’ in my lifetime. How lucky would I be, if the first person I kissed would be my last, because they were ‘The One’ for me? 

The moment Jeonghan’s soft lips touched mine, everything within me collectively exploded. An indescribable feeling blossomed within my chest, spreading all over the rest of my body. After what felt like years of imagining what it would be like to be kissing Jeonghan, it was finally happening. I was kissing Jeonghan and he was kissing me, and the rest of the world seemed to slip away. Jeonghan let out a small exhale and I felt the soft tickle of his breath beneath my nose, which made me giggle. 

My heart felt so full but so empty simultaneously as I poured everything I had within me for Jeonghan into this kiss. I felt like floating but Jeonghan kept me grounded with the way his soft lips were firmly pressed into mine.

I eventually reluctantly pulled away to catch my breath. Jeonghan ran a hand through his hair with a dazed look in his eyes and I grazed my lips with the tips of my fingers. They were still tingling from the sensation of kissing and I secretly hoped this feeling would never disappear. 

Jeonghan slipped a hand against my lower back and pulled me closer, pressing my body against his as our lips brushed together for a second time. I sighed against his lips, which made him laugh. 

“Did I just witness Yoon Jeonghan and Kim Jeong-ah kissing?” We heard a loud voice yell from above us. Immediately pulling away like two similar polar charges repelling against each other, Jeonghan and I scrambled to act nonchalant but it was too late. 

Jeonghan’s older brother, Jeongmin, was staring out the second floor window with an absolute shit-eating grin. “Jeonghan and Jeong-ah, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes the love, then the marriage-”

Jeonghan groaned, annoyed by the whole situation, as he ran a hand over his tired and blushing face. “At least I can say I’ve kissed someone now.” Jeonghan mumbled.

“I heard that!”

When we walked back into the house, my heart soared at the thought of having a boyfriend. Jeonghan was going to ask me to be his girlfriend and I could already imagine the look on my friends’ faces. Awe, shock, surprise, happiness? I was so excited, I couldn’t contain my joy as I bounded into the kitchen to get a drink of water.

Jeonghan trailed behind me. His steps were slow and hesitant and I turned to face him with an expectant look in my eyes. It was going to happen, Jeonghan was going to officially ask me to be his girlfriend. 

I handed him a cup of water and as he took a sip from the cup, I eyed him expectantly. After almost ten years of pining—

“So, do you want to get back to practicing derivatives now?”

At that moment, I thought my entire world had just shattered and I felt the ground underneath me open up and swallow me whole. Hell, I wish it would’ve instead of leaving me standing awkwardly in front of Jeonghan who was pretending like everything that happened in the past 10 minutes had never happened.

I guess Jeonghan noticed my reaction because he reached for the back of his neck with an awkward smile. “Our placement test is coming up and I want both of us to be really prepared, you know? I really want us to go to the same school.”

I swallowed back the bitter sting in my eyes and nodded. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

Jeonghan and I went back to his room where we spent the rest of the afternoon in complete silence, only with the occasional ‘Did I do something wrong in this equation? I keep getting a decimal’ to interrupt the silence.

Was it casual when you risked getting in trouble for my sake?

When my eyes fluttered open, the first thing I was able to register in the dark was Sua’s sleeping form on her bed. As I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark, I sat up from my sleeping spot on the floor. To my right, I was barely able to make out my sisters sleeping a few feet away from me and I felt a cold hand press into my cheek.

“You awake, squeak?”

My eyes had somewhat adjusted by now, but I was unable to recognize the squatting shadow in front of me. But I immediately knew it was Jeonghan.

I nodded and rubbed at my eyes with the back of my hands. “What time is it?”

“Five minutes before midnight. Come on,” With Jeonghan’s help, I stood up and we stumbled out of Sua’s bedroom and into the dimly lit hallway. “Follow me.”

Jeonghan grabbed my hand and dragged me downstairs. The entire first floor was fully dark, save for the Christmas tree in the corner next to the fireplace that was still up. The bright crystal lights illuminated the walls and ornaments in a whimsical, fairytale-esque light.

“Jeonghan? What are we doing?”

The taller boy didn’t respond. He simply walked to a small door on the side of the staircase we just took. The door was barely tall enough to fit a sixth grader, definitely not two high school sophomores.

“When we moved into this house, I found this room. It’s kind of like Harry’s room in the Dursley’s home,” Jeonghan said. He opened the door, and inside was a cozy nook overflowing with pillows, blankets, and… basketball posters. Of course. 

I giggled at the LeBron poster that had begun to slightly peel off the wall but followed Jeonghan inside. The room was just big enough to fit the two of us, but even when we were sitting at the opposite sides of the room, our knees would probably be touching. Jeonghan situated himself on one side of the room and patted the empty space next to him, motioning for me to sit down next to him.

“What is this place?” I plopped down on the floor next to him.

“My space. When I need a break from studying or the cello, I come here. It’s pretty cozy, huh? I decorated it myself.” Jeonghan puffed up his chest proudly and I laughed.

“Yeah, it looks great. The LeBron poster with the fluffy pink pillows. Very… you.” I fingered the throw pillow next to me and Jeonghan let out a small sound of frustration.

“I told Sua I didn’t want pink but she insisted… I wanted gray pillows,” Jeonghan groaned. He rested his head on my shoulder and pouted. I gently patted his head to console him.

“It looks great, Hannie. I promise.” 

“You should ask me why we’re in here instead of sleeping like everyone else.”

I let out a sigh that ended in a laugh. “Okay, Jeonghan. Why are we in here instead of sleeping like everyone else?”

Jeonghan immediately straightened up and turned his body to face me, and I mirrored his movements. The way he looked at me with shining, excited eyes reminded me of the same 5-year old who enjoyed pulling on my pigtails and showing me his Pokemon cards.

Despite growing a lot in the past decade, there were still some parts of Yoon Jeonghan that never seemed to change. For example, that mischievous look on his face whenever he was about to do something he wasn’t supposed to. 

“Wait here.” Jeonghan disappeared outside and I couldn’t help but smile at his excited, almost child-like demeanor. Resting my head against the wall, I looked up and saw the sloped ceiling decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars.

The door opened and Jeonghan reappeared with a single cupcake, a match, a candle, and two mini party hats. “I know we all got in trouble by our parents today so we can’t celebrate New Year’s, but I still wanted to do something for you. I know how much you love New Year’s celebrations.”

It was true. When all six of us had gotten in trouble earlier that evening because Jeonghan convinced all of us to try and help him set up a booby trap in his grumpy neighbor’s driveway, I was greatly disheartened when our parents decided that our collective punishment would be a bedtime of 9:30 and no New Year’s celebration.

I was particularly more upset than the others because my parents had promised me a year ago that this New Year’s celebration would be the year where I finally got to try champagne.

“Jeonghan, I-” I faltered. I couldn’t find the words to describe how grateful I was to have him at that moment. 

Jeonghan scrambled to sit in the empty spot next to me. “You can thank me and be impressed later, just put this hat on. We only have a minute left.” He snapped on his own party hat before sliding its identical piece over my own head.

With a shaky hand, Jeonghan struck the match and lit the candle that was stuck atop the cupcake. We had made these cupcakes earlier today, with the help of our siblings. It had always been a tradition of ours. My family would go over to the Yoon family’s house for the New Year’s and we would spend the night.

Jeonghan, his older brother, and I were the older ones so we usually resorted to playing video games, board games, and baking while our younger siblings played with toys or watched TV. Our time together was always fun and a big highlight of my winter break every year.

But two years ago, when Jeonghan and I kissed under that lemon tree, something changed. Our conversations became more stiff and awkward and he seemed to avoid me and my text messages more often.

When I consulted my mother about this situation (minus the kissing part), she had laughed and told me, “It’s because both of you are going through puberty now. It’s okay, it’s natural! Your relationship is going to return to normal in no time.”

Albeit it did take two years and a global pandemic for the two of us to be back on speaking terms again, but I was thankful to have my best friend back.

Jeonghan looked at me with a bright smile as he softly began to count down, his phone propped up against the wall so we could keep an eye on the clock. The single flame of the candle seemed to reflect the hundreds and thousands of stars that Jeonghan held within his eyes. His long lashes fluttered against his pale cheek bone and that tear-shaped mole on his right cheek that I had always been fond of. 

“Five… four…” I joined him in the count down, our hands holding the small cupcake together. 

I’d grown to accept the fact that Jeonghan wanted to pretend that kiss never happened. I did a lot of thinking and reflecting during our time apart to realize that it was our silly pre-pubescent emotions that had gotten the best of us in that moment. It never meant anything.

There was also a period of time when I questioned everything. He was the one who had brought up my feelings for him first, confessed to me, and brought up kissing first. 

But I also knew the answer to that. The summer we had kissed was the summer before we entered our freshman year of high school, and Jeonghan was under immense pressure from his parents to get into this prestigious academy in our town. The only way a student was permitted to attend this school was by passing an admissions test that thousands of students across the state took as an attempt to attend the school.

I had also wanted to attend that school. They had an exceptional instrumental music program and I had always dreamed of being in the same orchestra as Jeonghan. Him on cello, me on violin. My idiotic eighth grade self had even imagined ourselves performing together in our senior year of high school; Jeonghan would be first chair cello and I would be concertmaster.

But those foolish hopes and dreams of mine were crushed when Jeonghan passed the admissions tests with flying colors while I received an emergency surgery the same day for an unexpected case of appendicitis. My parents and I had begged the school for a re-take, explaining that I was physically unable to come and take the test, as well as the other retake test days because I was recovering from surgery. The school said they couldn’t make any exceptions and so I didn’t have any choice but to go to my local high school five minutes away from my home instead of the state-recognized academy Jeonghan was going to attend 20 minutes away. 

“Two… one! Happy new year!” Jeonghan cheered. “One, two, three!”

11 years of friendship helped me to immediately recognize Jeonghan’s intent when he began counting again.

When he reached 3, the two of us blew at the single candle and the flame flickered for a moment before it disappeared, leaving a small trail of white smoke in its wake. Jeonghan pulled the candle out of the cupcake and I dipped my finger into the frosting and smeared it across my best friend’s cheek.

Jeonghan smiled with a mischievous glint in his eyes before dipping this thumb into the white frosting and spreading it across my forehead. “Simbaaaaa.”

We both erupted into a fit of childish giggles as I tried to smear another glob of dense, sweet frosting onto his face, but he dodged my hand successfully. And because Jeonghan was blessed by the genetic gods and had much longer arms than I did, he was able to reach over and smudge another spot of white frosting onto the top of my nose.

“Ewww!” I cried loudly.

Jeonghan tried to shush me but it was too late. We heard a door upstairs opening, and a pair of footsteps moving down the stairs. Jeonghan and I held onto each other with bated breaths and when we heard the footsteps slowly fade away, we let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Maybe they’re just grabbing water or some-” As Jeonghan whispered into my ear, the doorknob of the small door rattled and opened, revealing Mrs. Yoon, half disheveled with a face mask.

I clamped a hand over my mouth to suppress the giggle that was threatening to spill as Jeonghan fumbled to find the right words. “H-hi, mom. We were just-”

“Out. Both of you. Now.”

Uh oh.

(We ended up being grounded by our respective parents for the rest of the winter break but it was okay because that was the best new year’s celebration I’ve ever had because it was with Jeonghan.)

Was it casual when you said you believed in fate because of me?

“Do you believe in fate?”

My sudden question must’ve startled Jeonghan because he flinched in his desk chair before adjusting his glasses to look at me. He was busy studying for the SAT so I decided to keep him company by lounging around in his bed with a book since I had passed the SAT on my first try.

“Why do you ask?” Jeonghan responded, returning his gaze back to the workbook laid out in front of him.

I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me. “This book that I’m reading right now, it’s talking about fate and how it’s real because there’s some incidents in the world that simply can’t be coincidences.”

Jeonghan hummed in thought but didn’t respond. Comfortable silence filled the room as the question and possibility of fate hung heavily in the air, before he spoke again. “I think fate exists.”

“Really? Why?” I lifted my face to face him and this time, it was Jeonghan’s turn to shrug.

“I think some things are simply meant to be. Everything I’ve experienced, the people I met, and the lessons I learned all have a profound impact on my life and my sense of self. I think everything in my life happens because I need it to happen in order for me to fulfill my life’s purpose, whatever that may be.” He pressed his pencil against his lips. “Okay, then riddle me this. Why shouldn’t fate exist?”

I tapped my finger against the cover of the book in thought. “Hm, I guess you’re right. I think fate exists in the world, just not in my own life.”

Jeonghan set down his pencil this time, which meant he was fully invested in the conversation. “What makes you say that?”

I flipped over onto my stomach and looked at my best friend who was watching me intently from the other side of the room. His recently bleached hair was a tousled mess from all the different times he had wrangled his hair in frustration with wrestling the SAT problems in the past two hours. The black square glasses I bought him last Christmas sat neatly on the bridge of his nose. He looked good.

“I don’t know. Nothing really ‘fate-worthy’ has really happened in my life.” I made air quotes with my fingers as I spoke. “There hasn’t been a coincidence where I was so shocked, I thought, ‘This can’t just be a coincidence.’” I guess something I said had amused Jeonghan because a corner of his lips curled up. “What? What’s so funny, Yoon Jeonghan? Mr. Valedictorian?”

He threw his eraser at me. “Don’t call me that. I’m not going to be the valedictorian.”

“Helloooooo, you were literally called into the counselor’s office during summer break so she could tell you the final requirements you needed to fill to become valedictorian. What do you mean you’re not getting it? If anyone deserves that title, it’s you.” I caught the erase he threw at me and tucked it into the book I was reading to save the page for later.

“You don’t actually mean that.” Jeonghan fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “I- I failed the SAT three times already, and even you passed-” He paused and glanced over at me. “Shit, sorry, Jeong-ah. I didn’t mean it like that.”

My eyes narrowed at his words. Although we’ve always been friends and never had any sort of rivalry except for the lighthearted competitions we did to motivate each other, there was always an unspoken tension between us when it came to academics. 

When I was younger, people called me a child prodigy. I never needed a tutor or extra lessons to stay on top of my classmates and peers. My parents also never pressured me to study or have a thriving academic career. Their philosophy was that as long as I found joy in learning, that was enough for them. I was my own catalyst, rather than my parents. I wanted to push myself further and further to see how far I could go, how much I could achieve on my own. 

Jeonghan was the opposite. He didn’t find studying or school fun; he preferred to play basketball outside with friends or take a nap. On his own, Jeonghan didn’t struggle to keep up, but he also wasn’t one of the best. Much different from my parents, Jeonghan’s parents considered education the most important thing to a person. I witnessed them ridiculing Jeonghan countless times for his ‘poor’ grades and performances and made constant comparisons to me and his brother. 

He initially tried to fight back their expectations, but after his older brother was given special admission to Harvard as a junior, Jeonghan accepted his fate and began to focus on his studies. While I began to neglect my studies from an academic slump stretching along the past few years, Jeonghan was thriving and he was able to easily surpass me within a short amount of time. 

As for my slump—the cause of it was unknown. My parents and I struggled for years to find some kind of reasoning for the sudden drop in my grades and my lack of motivation. I dropped all my honors classes because I struggled to keep up and I was soon dropped from the list of contenders for valedictorian’s for my graduating class. I was disappointed in myself and beat myself up for it, but Jeonghan always encouraged and consoled me with that smile of his. 

Although all my academic prospects seemed to no longer be in reach for me, seeing Jeonghan receive recognition from his school and parents made me happy. He had always wanted to make his parents happy; seeing him glow from all the praise from his parents was more than enough for me.

The possibility of Jeonghan considering me his competition had never crossed my mind. I always thought this competition was something that was forced between our parents. I never deemed him as an opposition, but did he?

“Even I what? Even I, the more stupid one out of the two of us, passed the SAT on the first try? Really?” I sat up on the bed and threw the book down incredulously.

“Jeong-ah, you know I didn’t mean it like that.” He ran his hands through his stupid, gorgeous-looking hair again.

“Yes, you did,” My voice was biting and laced with venom as I pointed an accusatory finger at Jeonghan. “Did you always see me as competition, Jeonghan? Another opponent for you to beat so you could look good to your parents and win a sliver of their favor? I think you and I both know that Jeong-min is always and forever going to be their favorite. He got into Harvard as a junior, for Christ’s sake.” Harsh and angry words that I didn’t mean began to brew like a storm within me and slowly started spewing out of my mouth.

“I’ve always been willing to lose to you if it meant seeing you happy. I’ve noticed the way your parents reacted whenever you did something better than me. I’m not dumb, but I’m willing to let go of my ego and pride and lose to you every time if it means getting to see you smile more. Because we’re friends and because I care for you. You’re important to me and seeing you happy is more than enough for me.” I swallowed a shaky breath and the next words came out weaker than before. “Even if that meant, although I’ve been in love with you for the past at least decade of my life, pretending that the kiss we had in eighth grade and whatever the fuck that happened during the winter break of our sophomore year and any other moment that kept me up at night in our 15 years of friendship, never happened. Even when we’re able to find each other in a big crowd and lock eyes and be able to understand what the other person is thinking with a single glance. Because you seemed more comfortable that way. 

“I pretended like nothing ever happened. I even dated a more than decent guy to try and get over you. I broke a good person’s heart because I was trying to forget you. Do you know what Seungcheol said to me when we were breaking up? He said that the way that he looked at me was the way that I looked at you.”

“Jeong-ah...” Jeonghan stood up from his chair but I raised a hand to stop him.

“Don’t do that thing where you soften your voice and look at me with the most gentle and caring eyes because you know the effect that it has on me and even though I know you don’t mean it, I’ll soften up again. No.”

Glancing down, I fidgeted with the fraying hem of my shirt. The thinning threads of fabric rolled between my fingers, similar to the thin, invisible string within me that was stressed and twisted, ready to snap, and I was suddenly painfully aware of how silent the room was. I wanted to leave.

When I looked back up, Jeonghan sighed and took off his glasses to set them down on his desk. 

“You asked me if I believe in fate.” My silence served as a ‘go ahead’ for him to continue. “I believe in fate because you’ve been by my side for almost 16 years now. The moment I gained consciousness as a baby, you were in my life. Hearing you call my name in that sweet voice of yours and giggling because of how similar our names were, even though I was too young to understand the concept of love, I knew we were going to stay by each other’s sides for a long time. 

“Our names and personalities, we were made to balance each other. When I went too far with my pranks, you were the one to knock some sense into me and I was the one to always teach you the rules of video games. I taught you how to play Minecraft on the Xbox and I was your first (and only) kill in Fortnite and Valorant because your parents refused to let you play games. I don’t know when or how it happened but I slowly began to believe that I was made for you. I was breathed into existence in this universe to be yours. We have nothing and everything in common, and I think that’s exactly what we’re supposed to be. 

“The moment you kissed me under that lemon tree six years ago, from then on, you’ve owned my heart. Not a single minute or second after that moment, have I ever not belonged to you. Every inch of me is yours. My heart is yours. I’ve always been yours.” 

At some point during his speech, Jeonghan had begun to cry. Tears were streaming down his face as he silently took a step towards me. When he noticed that I wasn’t stopping him, he took another.

I didn’t respond and simply searched his face for any signs of deceit or lies. There were none.

“You don’t mean that…” I whispered. Jeonghan took another step towards my direction, my heart. The string loosened. “Then why did you pretend like nothing happened after we kissed? I was waiting for you to ask me to be your girlfriend. I was so happy but you never brought it back up so I thought you thought it was a mistake or—”

“I was scared. Scared about what that kiss meant for us and what would happen in the future. I missed my timing and I was planning to ask you the next time I saw you, but before I could, my brother ratted us out and told my mom about our kiss. Obviously, my mom went ballistic and asked me how I could even think about girls during such a crucial time. She pressured and pushed me more than before so I wouldn’t get distracted.” I don’t know when, but Jeonghan had somehow reached the foot of the bed. He was merely inches away and I found myself craving for the comfort of his touch.

“Oh my God, so it was all my fault. I’m so sorry, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan reached out and grabbed my hands with his own. His cheeks were wet from his tears and his hands were cold, as always, seeking the warmth and comfort from me as he always did for the past 15 years.

“None of this was your fault, Jeong-ah. My mom didn’t blame you, either. She thought I was the one who had gone crazy and thought I was going to throw away everything that I had ever worked for and built, for you.”

I held my breath.

“And I would. Every single time, in every single lifetime.”

I felt my own tears welling up. “Jeonghan…”

“If you ask me to fail this SAT and go to community college or whatever college that you’re going to, then I would do it without any hesitation. I don’t care about being the black sheep of the family or constantly being compared to my brother. I’m willing to do anything and everything for you.”

“Jeonghan…” At this point, the tears were spilling out of my eyes with no thoughts of stopping. “Hannie…”

From a young age, Jeonghan got cold easily. Whenever our families went camping together, he would be the first to put on an extra layer of clothing and shiver in the chilly evening weather after the sunset. Jeonghan made it a habit to seek warmth from two sources of heat during these times: the fireplace and me.

He always insisted on sitting next to me in front of the bonfire even though my younger sibling needed help sticking their marshmallows onto their roasting stick. Jeonghan would always swiftly help them with shivering hands before nudging my side of the chair with his and asking for my hands with a gentle, pleading look in his eyes.

As we got older, I often pretended to be annoyed and rolled my eyes at this gesture but never said no. How could I say no to the one boy I’d always loved?

I’d never known what it was like to not love Jeonghan. He had a playful and silly nature from a young age. He constantly played tricks on me and our younger siblings but he was also really gentle. Jeonghan loved animals and would handle any kind with the utmost gentleness and care I would see exhibited from a human.

He also had a really soft side. Jeonghan cried often. We both even had matching tear moles on our right cheeks, right below our eyes. In Korean traditional beliefs, it was said that tear moles meant the person would cry or shed tears easily. That was probably why Jeonghan and I cried so much together when we were younger.

If I fell down and hit my head, Jeonghan would start crying before I did. We were only three years old. Our parents had always laughed and joked that we were somehow spiritually connected from how in sync our emotions were from the moment we had met.

I couldn’t remember the very first time I’d met Jeonghan since I had been too young, but I heard stories. We were barely two years old when we met and at the time, there was a blanket that I was attached to. And even at that age, I guess Jeonghan had a mischievous side because he snatched up my blanket at the first opportunity and crawled ran away with it to hide it somewhere.

I immediately became one with the activated sprinklers out in Jeonghan’s front yard and began crying non-stop. Jeonghan, who was barely three years old, started crying with me before he disappeared behind the couch and brought back my blanket. And according to our parents, that marked the beginning of our friendship.

Here we were, 15 years later. I was kneeling on Jeonghan’s childhood bed and the owner of said bed currently had his knees pressed up against the wooden frame. This was the bed where we had napped together, read together, shared countless stories together, cried together, and laughed together. This rickety, worn-down furniture alone represented our countless years of friendship and companionship together.

“Do you-” I choked back my tears. “Do you love me?”

Jeonghan let out what sounded like a heartbroken sigh. He let go of one of my hands and rested his cool palm against my hot and still-wet cheek. “Jeong-ah… There hasn’t been a day where I haven’t loved you. My earliest memory of my childhood was you, in that yellow rubber duck swimming suit in our backyard, playing with the sprinklers. I think we were five?”

I smacked him in the arm with my free hand. “Seven. It was the summer break before second grade.”

Jeonghan grinned the same exact grin that had made me fall in love with him a hundred times over. It was lighthearted and boyish and it reminded me of summer. “Right. You were always better with time.” It was innocent and it made his eyes crinkle and curve into crescent shapes. “Do you remember Inside Out? We bawled our eyes out to that movie.”

I smiled at the memory. We did. During the scene when Bing Bong died, Jeonghan and I were holding onto each other and sobbed like newborns in the theater.

“As we left the theater afterwards, I remember thinking that if there was an alternate universe where our brains worked the way it did in the movie, you would have your own island and core memory in my brain’s headquarters.”

A brief pause.

“I love you, Jeong-ah. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. You’re my first love and I will never stop loving you. To me, you’re the water for my desert, the warmth I crave when I’m cold, and the syrup to my waffles.”

I was still crying. “Pancakes are better.”

“You’re wrong, but I’ll let this one slide because the point is, I have loved you and I will continue to love you with every fiber of my being, even if you’re wrong about pancakes being better. Every atom and every cosmic dust that I am composed of belongs to you. I love you.”

If my tears were a trickle before, they were a pour now.

“Do you love me too?” Jeonghan’s voice was so gentle and soft, I almost missed his question over my snotty tears.

I nodded vigorously, afraid that my voice would fail me, as his thumb gently wiped away my tears.

“Can I kiss you?” Jeonghan’s bright eyes searched my bleary ones and I nodded again.

With almost no hesitation, Jeonghan dipped his head to press his lips onto mine. Despite his hands being cold, his lips were warm and full of love.

6 years later and I was finally able to kiss the same boy I had been in love with for most of my life, once again.

Our kiss was wet from a mixture of both of our tears. If our first kiss was rushed and awkward and passionate, this was the complete opposite. Everything about it was slow but it also felt like everything was moving so fast at the same time.

We moved as one. There was no need to come up for air when the oxygen that I’d been missing was back. Right there, in front of me, with his eyes closed and tears running down his cheeks.

It was a short kiss that only lasted about 15 seconds, but within those 15 seconds, all of our unspoken emotions and feelings and love from the bottom of our hearts were poured out from the deepest parts of our souls to the other.

My tears had stopped at some point and I placed a hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder to balance myself when we heard a loud thud from downstairs.

We jumped from where we were and reluctantly pulled away from each other. “What was that?” I asked shyly.

“I’m not sure…” He looked just as confused as I was but there was an unmistakable look on his face that told me everything that I needed to know. Jeonghan loved me and he meant it. That kiss under that lemon tree meant the world to him, like it did for me.

“I think we should go make sure—” My words were abruptly cut off by a sudden ringtone. I reached for my phone and saw that my mom was calling me, which was weird, since she was downstairs. “Hey, Mom. Is everything okay? We heard a loud noise—”

“Pack your stuff and tell your siblings to hurry up. We’re leaving.” My mom’s voice was different from what it usually sounded like. It was strained, as if she was going to burst into tears at any moment.

“Okay… but are you okay?”

“I’m okay but we have to leave. You have five minutes.”

“Oh, okay,” I ended the phone call and shrugged at Jeonghan who looked just as confused as I was. I was secretly disappointed that our time together was cut short. “I need to go. I think an emergency came up.”

I guess Jeonghan could sense my disappointment because he lifted my chin with his fingers and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead. “It’s okay. We have plenty of time, and I do really need to study for the SAT.”

I nodded and climbed off the bed. After quickly gathering my siblings and bidding good-bye to Sua and Jeong-min, who all seemed as confused as we were, my siblings and I left Jeonghan’s house in a huff and a hurry.

My mom’s face was a bright shade of red as she hustled over to our car, mumbling under her breath angrily about something.

Once we were all in the car and the engine was running, my youngest sibling asked the question we were all currently thinking: “Mommy, are you okay? Did we do something wrong?” 

My mom forced a strained smile through the rearview mirror as she pulled out of the parking lot. “It’s nothing, darling. The adults were talking and we had a bit of an argument.”

Her grip on the steering was dangerously tight and I rested my hand on top of hers. “Mom, I’ll drive. I think you need to decompress, otherwise you’ll land all of us in the hospital.”

She let out a shaky breath and nodded.

As we drove back home, I couldn’t help but glance over at my mom. She was a strong woman and knew how to stand her ground. I began to wonder what had happened between her and Jeonghan’s mom for her to get so shaken up. I shook it off and told myself to ignore it since it was none of my business.

After that day, a bright sunny day during the summer before our senior year, my family and I would never again step foot inside the Yoon family’s home. Jeonghan would mysteriously block my number and we would never contact each other again.

Epilogue.

I nervously tapped my fingers against the steering wheel of my car. Next to me, my graduation cap and gown was in a rumpled up pile in the passenger seat and the weight of my hoop earrings felt eerily similar to the heavy weight in my heart. 

Jeonghan always liked it when I wore hoop earrings.

Last night, I had received a text message from an unknown number with an invitation to Jeonghan’s academy’s graduation. Attached to the invitation was a screenshot of a QR code that would be used as my admission ticket into the ceremony. The message read:

‘Jeonghan got valedictorian. I was barely able to convince my mom to get a spare ticket for you. It would mean a lot if you showed up.’

Initially, I thought it might be a scam but my friends managed to get me to snap out of it. The message was too detailed and personal to be a scam, and there was nothing the unknown number would gain from me attending this graduation.

So here I was now, in Jeonghan’s prestigious, state-recognized academy’s parking lot. The sun was beginning to set and I still hadn’t gathered the courage to get out of my car. My graduation was in the morning and I had dinner plans with my family at 8 pm. Why was I wasting my time here?

I bumped my head against the steering wheel and let out a loud groan. What was I doing here?

I let out a deep breath. “Okay, Jeong-ah. You’re here because Sua invited you. Jeonghan’s graduating and he’s giving a big speech as the valedictorian. You’re here to support him as an old childhood friend. Nothing else.”

I forced myself to get out of my car and make my way towards the stadium. The seats inside were already packed, and after being waved through by security, I searched the seats for an empty spot. Eventually, I found an empty seat at the very top of the bleachers, hiding in the shade of the press box. The ceremony had already started when I entered, so the football field was filled with navy gowns and various skin-tone colored dots.

As different superintendents and student leaders made their way to the front to make their speeches, I tried my best to focus but there was a trembling within me that I couldn’t withhold.

When it was finally Jeonghan’s turn to speak, it seemed as if the entire stadium had erupted into cheers for him, but all I could manage was a feeble clap or two. As he took center stage, seeing him on the big screen at the end of the football field made my blood run cold and I felt the muscles and guts inside me squeeze and tighten with anxiety. He looked the exact same, but better.

He had dyed his hair back to black and it was cut short again. Gone were his days with a mullet, and as he spoke, I felt like I had gotten kicked in the stomach. His voice was the exact same as I imagined it. My friends called me over dramatic earlier today, saying that it had only been a year since I’ve seen him; he wasn’t going to be that different. 

But they were wrong. That was one year of absolute no contact. The last time we hadn’t gotten that far without seeing each other was during the pandemic, but even then, we were constantly calling or texting each other. This was the first time we had absolutely no contact since we first met. 

Jeonghan was the most decorated student out there, and there was no doubt about it. Despite being in a school full of high-achievers and students who did more extracurriculars than I could count on my fingers and toes combined, Jeonghan had somehow managed to do it all. 

There was a slight breeze, which was unexpected since it was late May, but the breeze helped me cool down as the sun began to further set beyond the horizon. The stadium lights began to turn on, one by one, as Jeonghan began to wrap up his speech.

Shit. I had completely missed the speech. I was so busy reminiscing and thinking about Jeonghan that I had missed his entire speech. I racked my head to try and see if I could recollect anything but all I could remember was him talking about the Eagle Scouts.

Goddamn it, Jeong-ah. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms. I was sure Sua had invited me to the graduation because she wanted me to hear his speech and celebrate her older brother becoming valedictorian.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur. As hundreds of students crossed the stage in the same cap and gown with a bright smile on their face, I blankly sat through it, trying to stay strong until the end so I could say hi and congratulate Jeonghan. The bouquet of flowers in my lap rustled in the wind as the night grew colder and the sun disappeared. The stadium lights lit up one by one, and the ceremony was done.

The principal of the school stood from his seat to congratulate the students and present to the audience, the class of 2024. Everyone rose from their seats to applaud and I followed suit. As the recessional began to play from the band, fireworks lit up the sky and everyone cheered in celebration at the sight of the students throwing their caps. 

I teetered my way out of the bleachers. My feet were aching and wobbling from the pain of wearing heels all day. I should’ve brought spare shoes.

The crowd was slow and unmoving but I was eventually able to leave the stadium and look for Jeonghan and his family. His school’s campus was vast and every square inch of the school quad seemed to be littered with different students in the same cap and gown congratulating one another, crying, and taking photos with their loved ones. I felt awkward in my white dress, black heels, and limp bouquet of flowers. I was practically dressed identically as this one girl who had just walked past me. The only difference was the cap she had on her head, the tears in her eyes, and the robe she was wearing. 

I spent the next 45 minutes scouring every area of the campus. I wasn’t necessarily unfamiliar with Jeonghan’s school since I had visited a couple times for youth orchestra rehearsals and the different times I had picked him on Thursdays so we could go get frozen yogurt and study together afterwards.

Jeonghan was nowhere to be found. My feet were crying out in pain, similar to how my heart yearned and cried for the love of my life who had disappeared on me a year ago. My right heel had already begun to blister and I could feel the back of my dress digging into my skin uncomfortably. I limped across the quad again and noticed how much more vacant it had become. Most families had left after taking pictures, so there were a lot fewer people than before. 

I felt something within the pit of my stomach and I prepared myself to turn on my heels and return to my car when my phone rang with a new notification. It was from the same unknown number that had sent me the invitation, and this time, they had sent me their location. That must be where Jeonghan was.

I practically sprinted across the campus, following the blue dot on my screen to try and get to him as fast as possible.

I heard him before I saw him. Before I turned the corner into a secluded hallway, I heard Jeonghan’s laugh, the same laugh that haunted me every night in my sleep, echo through the empty corridors. Was this what it might’ve been like to go to school with him? To be able to recognize him in the hallways solely based on his sounds?

Fixing my hair and dress, I tried my best to look presentable before stepping forward and seeing Jeonghan smoking with his friends.

Jeonghan? Smoking?

My brain short-circuited as I tried my best to connect the two dots. Jeonghan was smoking? He was always the one who made faces when he saw people smoking on the streets and swore to never touch nicotine or tobacco in his life.

He seemed to recognize me right away because he dropped his cigarette butt on the floor, squishing it with the heel of his shoe before walking towards me.

As Jeonghan got closer, I could immediately smell the pungent scent of the cigarette that wafted off of him and I tried my best not to gag. 

“JeongJeong?” His voice was impossibly soft. The cap that was on his head earlier was gone and his dark hair was a tousled mess, much different from what it looked like during the ceremony. “You came?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Of course I came, Hannie. You were valedictorian, how could I miss that?”

Jeonghan seemed to visibly swallow. He opened his mouth to say something before closing it again and whipping around to face his friends. “You guys go ahead first. I’ll catch up.”

After a collective chorus of goodbye’s, it was just the two of us. Jeonghan eyed the bouquet of flowers that seemed to have wilted in the past 2 hours. “Is that for me?”

“Uh, yeah! Here you go.” I handed the flowers to Jeonghan with mannerisms similar to a kindergartner giving her favorite crayon to her first crush to share. “Congratulations, you deserve it.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, thanks…” He trailed off with his eyes trained on the floor.

“So…” I started as an attempt to fill in the awkward silence. “What are your plans now?”

Jeonghan shrugged. “I got a full ride to John Hopkins University. I’m going undeclared but I want to be an anesthesiologist when I’m older.”

I couldn’t help it, my jaw dropped open. “John Hopkins? Full ride? Holy shit, Jeonghan. Congratulations. I knew you could do it.”

The boy in front of me grew shy and rubbed the back of his head with a hand. “Yeah… I wasn’t expecting it either. I got lucky.”

“Lucky? No, you earned that, Jeonghan. Seriously. I’m really proud of you.” I smiled at him and Jeonghan smiled back.

“Thanks, Jeong-ah. It means a lot coming from you,” Jeonghan smiled shyly and looked at me with an expectant look in his eyes. After a beat of silence, he opened his mouth to speak again. “So… what’d you think of my speech?”

Speech? Oh, God. I opened my mouth and closed it again, searching for the right words to say that were general enough to compliment him but not too general so he wouldn’t notice that I had completely spaced out thinking about him during his speech.

What did valedictorians usually talk about during their speeches? I racked my brain for ideas. Usually, a particularly sad story from their childhood and how that motivated them to pursue education. No, that wouldn’t work. Jeonghan was a highly private person, he wouldn’t expose his deepest, darkest secrets and traumas to the entire school like that. Different difficulties and setbacks they faced during high school? No, I can’t think of any examples on the spot. How much have they grown and changed as a person over the course of four years in high school? Perfect.

“I thought it was really good! I really resonated with the part where you talked about growth and change. We all make mistakes when we’re younger but the best thing we can do is bounce back from that by learning from our mistakes and moving forward.” I smiled at him again. “It was great.”

Something about Jeonghan’s demeanor changed, almost as if his facial expression darkened. “Really?”

I nodded, maintaining that same smile on my face. “Mhm. I resonated with it a lot—”

Jeonghan cut me off. “Not a single objection? No notes? I left a few mistakes in there on purpose to see if you would notice them.”

“Nope, it was great!” 

Jeonghan squinted his eyes at me. He took a couple steps back and glanced at his phone screen. His current attitude and his attitude from a few seconds ago were completely different. What happened? Did I say something wrong about his speech?

“Well, I need to get going now…” He took another step back. “Thanks for coming today, and um, have a great life, I guess.”

Great life? I thought we were going to make up and be friends again, or maybe even more than friends. I still had to ask him why he blocked my number and contact on every single platform possible.

“Wait, Jeonghan—” He stopped in his tracks and turned back around to face me. “Shouldn’t we talk about what happened? About us?”

Jeonghan scoffed. “Us? There is no us.”

It felt like my heart was stabbed with a kitchen knife and twisted around at hearing those words. “What?”

He rolled his eyes. “Can you not speak English? I said, there is no us.”

“No, no. The last time we talked, you—you told me you loved me. And I told you that I loved you too,” I shook my head in denial. “You professed your love for me with such beautiful words, what do you mean—”

“It didn’t mean anything, Jeong-ah.” Jeonghan’s voice was cold. It was nothing like I had ever heard before. His voice was usually soft and gentle, almost angelic with every word he spoke. Even when he yelled in the past, his yells were docile.

“What?”

“What don’t you understand? It was just casual. We had a casual thing going on because it was convenient and we were both lonely.” Every word Jeonghan said felt like they were being spat out. Like they were dirty and he couldn’t believe he had to say these words out loud.

“Casual? No, no, Jeonghan. None of it was casual. What we had was—”

“It was casual, Jeong-ah. That’s why nothing happened between us for 16 years. It was casual and it was convenient. Last time we talked, I got swept up from the overwhelming stress of studying for the SAT and college applications. I apologize if I led you on in any way, shape, or form.”

“Jeonghan…” I struggled to find the words to speak. “I don’t understand—”

“I said everything I needed to say. I don’t know if there’s any other way for me to convey what I said so you can understand, but I really hope you have a great life. You were a really good childhood friend. I think I’ll be able to hold onto a few good memories of this shithole thanks to you.”

Jeonghan walked away, further distancing himself from me in the empty corridor we were standing in. When he reached the end, he glanced over his shoulder. “I hope you have a great time at a community college.”

That was the final blow that had shattered my heart into a million pieces. He disappeared in the moonlight as he turned the corner, leaving me all alone in the dark.

Jeonghan knew how much I hated the dark.

I walked back to my car, heart numb and feet heavy, as I stumbled every few steps from the pinching pain of my heels. On the windshield of my car, I noticed a small envelope addressed to me. I tore it open to see what was inside.

To. Jeong-ah

Hi, Jeong-ah! It’s been a while... I hope you're doing well.

I’m sure you were surprised when you first received my text. Sorry if I scared you, I got a new phone a couple months back but even then, I know we never had the kind of relationship to privately contact each other, that was more a Sua and Jeonghan thing.

I invited you to Jeonghan’s graduation because of his speech. He worked really hard on it. I probably shouldn’t tell you this but he even cried on some days because he missed you so much. I know it’s not your fault, but cutting contact was almost one of the hardest things he ever had to do. Jeonghan wasn’t himself for a while after that.

I know Jeonghan’s my brother and he’s like really gross and disgusting and stuff, but you guys always seemed so happy together, even when we were younger. I remember Sua once told me that her future relationships were going to look like whatever you and Jeonghan had going on. (And so far, she hasn’t even come close LMFAO)

I invited you so that the two of you could try and make amends. You’re both adults now so whatever happened between our parents shouldn’t affect our own relationships.

Thanks for coming, Jeong-ah. I know for a fact it meant a lot for Jeonghan too.

I’ll see you at the wedding, I guess? (lmao i’m just kidding)(unless…?)

Warm regards,

Jeong-min

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated! ^-^

tags: @fragmentof-indifference ; @minvxq ; @straykidsstanforeverandever 

[targaryenluvs]

AT FIRST SIGHT

PAIRINGS: Dark!Evan Buckley x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Never in his life would Buck have ever thought that he’d end up with the girl of his dreams. How she ended up with him doesn’t matter, right?

WARNINGS: Lovesick Buck, obsession, memory loss, kind of Stockholm syndrome, lying, gaslighting, fluff, kisses

a/n: this literally popped into my head after reading @mrsdarkandyandere7 fic on their firefighter so this is definitely inspired by it, go check it out! i know evan’s character isn’t like this but i just thought it’d be cool to explore maybe what could’ve happened if buck’s breakups and general trauma had taken a toll on him 👀

WORDCOUNT: 3.8K Words

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

Buck was enjoying his day off when he first saw you, waving his way. He turned his head, expecting a friend of yours to be behind him but was thoroughly surprised when you approached him. “You’re a firefighter aren’t you? I saw you on the news.”

Buck smiled at the recognition and nodded along, “Yeah I am, how’d you know?” You laughed at his joke before smiling, “You did an amazing job there, just wanted to let you know. I know sometimes you don’t get the props you deserve so… just wanted to come over.” You looked gorgeous, and your smile was infectious. Buck had been lonely lately, feeling as if he’s behind everyone else.

Always wondering what would’ve happened if he never changed, at least he’d have girls around, right?

But then, he met you. And all of a sudden, he was glad he wasn’t the original Buck. The Buck who felt the incessant need to get into bed with almost every girl he wants. “I sadly have to get going, but it was nice meeting you.” Enraptured with your smile, he watched you walk away. As he smiled to himself he realised, “Wait! I didn’t—,” You’d entered your apartment already, and he didn’t know your name. But you had left your purse on accident.

He sighed deeply, settling back into the bench he was sat on as his hand tightened around his coffee cup. “Stupid Buck, should’ve asked her name straight away.” Whilst plotting about how he could find out your name, the smell of smoke invaded his senses.

Your building was on fire.

He sprung up straight away, his hands sliding all over his phone whilst calling 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“23 Rayweo Drive, there’s a fire!”

“There’s already been multiple calls sir, units are on their way. May I ask who’s calling?”

“Uhh, Evan Buckley. I’m a firefighter!”

“Okay Evan, can you please—,”

All composure faded away the second he saw you at your window, arms waving frantically. “Help! The doors blocked!” The muffled voice coming through his phone was discarded as he made his way up the fire escape. The conjoining apartment had a balcony only about three to four metres from yours, Buck jumped across before grabbing the metal table on yours.

Your apartments glass door shattered as Buck made his way inside, the sirens were getting closer. “Hello? Where are you?” Buck held his arm infront of his face, searching the place for you. “In here!” Your apartment wasn’t fully engulfed yet, the kitchen and entrance were inescapable. But the rest only had small fires, yet to grow. Your bedroom door was untouched but had ceiling debris blocking you from leaving.

Buck went right into action, carelessly throwing the debris to the side before bracing himself, “Move away from the door!” You stood in the corner of the room as Buck pummelled through, ending up on the floor. You rushed over, “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” His coughs were rapid, “I’m— i’m okay, let’s get you out of here…” A soft smile came across your lips, “Y/n.” He smiled back, “Buck.” The two of you slowly made your way out, but you stopped and stared.

A painting of yourself and your best friends, hung on the wall. The frame was gold, and melting. Your first ever apartment, up in flames with some of the most precious memories and moments of your life. “Hey, I know it’s a bit of a shock but we need to go.” Buck turned around to look at you, and at the right moment since the ceiling caved in on you. “Wait!”

Your hand waved around trying to grasp something as you held your breath. Were you going to die? All you could feel was a throbbing pain in your head, you’d fallen head first. And as your eyes closed you felt two hand grasp your arm, attempting to pull you out. “Stay with me!” Buck pleaded.

You woke up as you were being lifted onto the stretcher, eyes adjusting to the brightness. “Where— what’s happening?” The paramedic to your right smiled, “Welcome back, can you tell me your name?”

“Y/n/n!” Buck rushed to your side as you smiled, “Buck.” His hands brushed away the hair from your face, “Yeah, I’m here. Right here baby.” You smiled as they lifted you into the ambulance. Buck looked up, “I’m riding with you guys Hen.” The girl, who you assumed to be Hen nodded. You held onto Bucks hand the entire ride, earning some stares from Hen and Chimney.

When they thought you were out, they started questioning him. “You know her don’t you?” He nodded, “I do.” You opened your eyes, as everyone’s attention fell back on you, “Hey there, how ya feeling?” Chimney asked as you smiled, “Good, heads hurting a lot though.” Hen nodded, “You did take a bit of a fall, it’s a given. Your vitals look normal, seems like it’s just a concussion and some smoke inhalation. A few nicks and bruises, you’ll be out in no time sweetheart.”

“She’s right, you’re gonna be okay. Is there anyone you’d like us to call?”

“My mom. Her number is…” Your eyebrows furrowed at your lapse of memory. “Her number is…” You tried again to no avail, “Oh my god, I can’t remember. Why can’t I remember?” Hens face drained, “Uhm, you may have hit your head harder than we thought. Is your phone on you?” You shook your head, “It broke when I fell.”

The ceiling was all of a sudden the most interesting thing in that ambulance. How the hell did you forget your own mother’s number? You tried your hardest to recall but it was hopeless. You tried your fathers, and nothing.

“Maybe a sibling? A boyfriend?”

“I don’t have siblings. No I do, a sister maybe? Or is it a brother? My boyfriend… I—,” Buck watched as you tried your hardest to remember things, and he hated it. He felt horrible, watching you struggle. He just wanted to shout at you that he was here, you didn’t need anybody else. He muttered under his breath, “I could be your boyfriend.” You turned your head, “You’re my boyfriend?” Hen and Chimney looked up at him, “You’re the man? Why haven’t you said anything?”

He was going to disagree, he really was. But with you looking up at him so hopefully he couldn’t help himself. “I didn’t want to confuse her, especially if she didn’t remember. That’s not wrong.. is it?”

You shook your head. “No, no it’s not. I’m just glad you’re here.”

The last few days had been a blur, sitting around or laying down. Nurses fluttering in and out with a million questions of ‘How are you feeling?’ or ‘Do you need anything else?’

Yes, to go home. You wish you could yell at them, but then again, you didn’t have a home. But through it all, you had your boyfriend. Who was nothing short of a gentleman. Always with a smile on his face, always asking how you were. And with him you just wanted to answer his questions.

“Discharge papers are all signed, you’re free to go sweetie.” The nurse beamed as you sighed, “Thank you so much. Have a nice day.” As she left you squealed before hugging Buck, “Whoa there, slow down sweetheart.” You rushed back, “I’m sorry, I’m just so ready to leave this place, and eat real food.”

Buck laughed at your growling stomach, “I promise to cook for you every night.” He pledged with a hand to his heart, “Oh shut up! Quick question, does this mean I’ll be staying with you? Until I find a new place and talk to my insurance company?” Buck frowned at the idea of you leaving him, “I know this might seem a bit quick but, what’s the point in you moving out? When you could just move in with me? I mean… you’d never have to worry about a fire with me.”

You grinned at him whilst picking up your purse and slinging it over your shoulder. “I already look like you since I’m wearing your clothes. You sure you want me 24/7?” He’d want you glued to him if he could. “Of course, I could never get sick of someone so pretty.” Buck flirted as your cheeks heated up, his hand traced your back sending tingles up your spine. He cupped your face and brought you closer.

Your lips were soft and sweet, the lip-balm you used was flavourful and he couldn’t get enough. His hand traced down your back, pulling you closer into him as you smiled into him, “Buck.” Your voice was muffled as he continued on, you put your hands on his chest and pushed back, “Stop, we’re in public.” You giggled as he threw his head back, “If anyone looks at you I’ll just punch em’.” You gasped, “Buck!”

He raised his arms, “What?” The two of you finished packing up before saying your goodbyes to the nurses that had taken care of you. “You never told me you had a jeep.” Buck laughed, “I was kind of hoping you’d remember, you love her.” You nodded at his words, “I can definitely see why I did, or do.” When you arrived at his place you were irrevocably in love.

“I love the exposed brick!” Buck set your purse down on the counter as you ran your hands along the walls before making your way to the couch. “And the couch is tucked away, it’s like a bit of privacy yknow?” Buck leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, “Well duh, you’re the one that helped me pick it.” He knew you hadn’t of course, but it was somehow easy for him to block her out and replace her with you.

“I did?” You looked his way as he walked over before standing in between your legs, “You loved this place a lot. So I got it as a surprise.” You smiled at him before pulling him down on top of you, “Why don’t we spend the rest of the day at home, and you tell me all about you and me?” He smiled at the sound of ‘home’, your home.

And that’s exactly what happened, the rest of the day he spent making up an ideal version of the two of you. Of how you met, how the two of you were yet to tell anyone since you really loved keeping it to the two of yourselves. And how he was always a ‘in the moment’ type person, explaining the lack of photos together. You then went out to buy yourself a new phone, and trade over the SIM card.

“Hey babe?” You called out to him as he cooked in the kitchen, “Yeah what’s up?” He glanced over his shoulder to you, “I can’t find you in my phone.” Buck breathed in, he forgot about that. “We… had a bit of a fight the day before. Pretty sure you blocked me or something, and since I’m petty, I did the same thing.” You stared at your phone in confusion, “I’ve never blocked someone, especially over something as simple as an argument.”

“Well, you have. Your brains a bit fuzzy babe, it’ll come back to you soon enough.” You glanced up at him, suspicion filling through you. “Alright, can I grab your phone and put my number in?” He nodded before pointing to the bed upstairs. You jogged upstairs before unplugging his phone. “My birthday.” You quickly filled in the password and were met with a million messages and calls.

Hen: Buckkkk, reply to us. Are you okay?

Cap 🔥: Buck, you need to call in if you’re not coming.

Maddie ❤️: YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?

Eddie: There’s no way you have a girlfriend and just forgot to tell me.

Eddie: I’m coming over.

These guys must be his friends and coworkers. But you couldn’t help but wonder, had he seriously not told any of them that he has a girlfriend? Not even a hint? The last text from Eddie was only half an hour ago, which meant—

RING!

The doorbell rung out as you made your way downstairs, “Hey, no I’ll grab the— door.” Buck was late to it, as you swiftly opened the door to reveal, “Eddie!” He smiled, “Hey Buck, and you must be?” You grinned, “Y/n, but you can just call me Y/n/n. Please, come in!” You opened the door wider to reveal a kid, “And who’s this?” Eddie had his hand on the kids back, “Y/n, meet my son Christopher.” You kneeled infront of him before stretching out your hand, “Well hello there Chris, I’m Y/n and it is very nice to meet you.”

“Hello Y/n. Buck never told us he had a girlfriend.” You laughed at the comment as the two shuffled in before settling on the couch, “Well, if it’s any consolation, we hadn’t really told anyone yet. So technically you’re the first to officially meet me. None of my friends or family know about Buck yet.” Chris smiled, “What do you mean officially?”

“Well technically, everyone’s kind of met me already but I was rescued from a fire.” Eddies face dropped, “Oh my god, I completely forgot to ask, are you doing okay? It must’ve have been hard to recover.” You appreciated his empathy, “Yeah, it was a bit difficult at first but I was in the hospital. I mean, it was my first apartment and it went up in flames, it’s pretty hard to just get over it. But Buck has been an absolute angel, I’m really lucky to have him with me. I’ve been having memory issues, to the point where I wake up and forget where I am,”

“Oh god, have you been put on any medication?” You nodded, “I have, and it’s been helping. I think with the days my memory will come back. I mean I didn’t even remember Buck and I were together in the ambulance.” You laughed as you looked over at Buck, he chuckled at the joke whilst Eddies eyes flicked between the two of you before laughing dryly.

“Dinners ready!” Buck shouted out, the conversation was getting a bit too much for his liking. The four of you stuck to light topics at the dinner table on account of Christopher as well as you. And it was super enjoyable for you, Eddie is an amazing father and you could see how close Buck was with him and Chris.

“Well I think it’s time for this one to go to bed.” Eddie rose up before collecting the plates, “Hey no, you’re a guest, you don’t have to clean up.” You spoke as you grabbed the plates from him, “No no, you should be resting Y/n/n.” You both made your way around, “Okay we can both do them. You wash, I dry.” Buck sat on the couch with Chris playing video games, whilst simultaneously trying to eavesdrop.

“It’s way too late for the two of you to be driving home no? I’m sure you could stay. Me and Chris upstairs and the men on the floor seems just right,” Eddie threw his head back laughing, “Ohh, I see how it is!” You bumped his side and he bumped right back.

If all of Bucks friends were this great, he would’ve had to be one of the luckiest people around.

Chris and Eddie did end up staying the night, but the two men couldn’t sleep. So Eddie and Buck ended up having a few late night drinks, “So, Y/n. She’s absolutely incredible. So I have zero clue how you ended up with her.” Buck shoved his arm, “Hey I am a catch.”

“That I’d throw right back out.” Eddie joked as Buck rolled his eyes, “But you never told us anything about her, and I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit disappointed. We usually talk about everything Buck. And I know you well enough to know when you’re talking to someone.” Buck sighed, “It’s… complicated.”

And the weight of his secret was bound to come crashing down at some point, right?

Eddie stood with his head in his hands trying to understand everything his best friend had tried to tell him. “So you kidnapped her?” Buck immediately turned to him, “What? No! We were in the ambulance and she assumed I was her boyfriend, and god if you’d seen the look on her face you’d understand why I said yes. She was all alone, her apartment was burned down and her phone was broken. Maybe if it was some random person I wouldn’t have said yes, but I’d talked to her before. I knew she didn’t deserve anything that was happening to her. And she wouldn’t have a place to go if she couldn’t even remember her friends or a phone number.”

“So you took her in, to be a nice person? Were you going to kick her out when she remembered? What if she calls the cops?” Eddies head had about a million scenarios rushing through right now, “Eddie, please. You know me, I’m not a bad guy. If she starts to remember then I’ll tell her. But, we’ve gotten along so well these past few days, like you said she’s incredible.”

“Oh god, don’t tell me you fell in love with her.”

“Well…” Buck scratched the back of his neck as Eddie groaned, “Buck are you serious?” Eddie screeched, “Shh! Do you want to wake her up? Look, if she realises then I’ll explain everything I promise. But it’s not like I’m holding her hostage. I’m just trying to give her a place to call home before she gets back out there.”

“Buck, she calls you ‘babe’, and you do too. You have a million nicknames for her. Every time you get the opportunity you kiss her. It’s wrong, she has no clue what’s happening here.” Eddie tried to rationalise with him but it was no use. Buck sighed, “I know, it’s just— I know her. I met her before the fire and she was so nice, I was going to ask her out but then this all happened. And it’s not like she doesn’t like me either, is it really so wrong?”

“I guess not, but you need to tell her. If she really likes you, then I guess she’ll give you another chance to actually take her out.” Buck rushed forwards and hugged him, “You think she’ll give me another chance? Thank you Eddie!” Eddie scoffed, “You really like her huh?” Buck couldn’t help but look back up at you, “I do.”

Your eyes were wide open, adjusted to the dark. Eddie and Bucks conversation was playing over and over in your head, he lied to you. But again he wanted to keep you safe, would you be homeless right now if it weren’t for him? Or would you have found a friend?

The good and bad parts of the situation were equal in your eyes. He’d been lying to you, kissing you and treating you as if you were his girlfriend. Taking advantage of your state of mind, but you’d met before, and he was going to ask you out. And if he had, you knew what your answer would have been.

Yes.

And it wasn’t as if he was dangerous, or at least you hoped not. Tiredness came over you, the last thing you remember hearing being the sound of Bucks voice wishing you sweet dreams.

By the time you woke up Eddie and Chris were long gone, Buck was busy cooking up breakfast. “There you are sleepyhead.” His smile was always bright when directed at you, and with the morning glow you could only see the good. “Buck, we need to talk.”

Who knew five words could strike such fear?

And you sat infront of him, “I know. I know about the fire, and the fact that you aren’t my boyfriend. And hey—,” Buck didn’t waste a second apologising, “I’m so so sorry I knew I should’ve told you straight away. But when you said I was I went along with it and that was stupid. But I didn’t want you to be alone and if you want to go I will—,” Your laugh stopped him in his tracks, “It’s okay Buck. I’m not mad, well I am a little since you’ve been kissing up on me every chance you get but… you’re just a bit dumb in how you went about it.”

Buck smiled as he set out breakfast for the both of you, “Now how about this. We finish up breakfast and then you take me out on a proper date where we get to make all of our firsts for real. I really do like you Buck, your heart was in the right place, execution? Not so much.”

And the rest of the morning you spent laughing at Buck and his love sickness. “You know you’re kind of obsessed with me, it’s a bit creepy.” Bucks face immediately drained, he stared at your back as you washed the dishes. “But my heart was in the right place right?” He sounded desperate with the sentence, “Sure.”

You liked Buck, there was no denying it, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of weirdness.

As the two of you continued getting to know eachother Bucks happiness sky rocketed. And everyone could tell, “If you smile any longer we’ll need to tattoo it onto your face Buck.” Bobby joked as everyone teased Buck, “I am in a happy, loving relationship. Be proud of me.” Eddie couldn’t help himself, “Does she know that?”

The whole table burst out laughing as Buck groaned, “She has her memory back can we please not joke about it.” Hen pointed at him with her fork, “Trust me, we’re not laughing at her, we’re laughing at you Lover Boy!” The footsteps coming up the stairs were drowned out by the sea of laughter, “If Shakespeare was alive you’d for sure be an inspiration Buck.” Chimney spoke from the kitchen.

“Wonder what he’d name it.” Your voice caused the five of them to turn your way, “Y/n!” Eddie shouted as you engulfed him in a tight hug. “If I squeeze too hard you’ll forget my name,” He joked as you punched his abdomen, “Don’t make me hurt you.”

“There’s the famous Mrs Buckley.” Bobby smiled as you made your way over to him, “Cap!” He opened his arms up to you as Buck grinned, his team finally meeting you made him feel happy. “Great to finally meet you, but I feel like we already know you.” He spoke as he pulled out a chair for you. “He’s right, Lover Boy never shuts about you.” Chimney teased as you kissed Bucks cheek.

“Well aren’t you sweet? We all know how lovesick he is I presume?” The team laughed as Buck rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah let’s get the jokes out the way.” You smiled before holding onto his hand.

Buck downplayed just how much he loved his team, they were like a family, and now you were apart of it too. Buck was grateful to be in it, especially with you being the new addition. But every once in a while he couldn’t help but remember how he got you.

Love At First Sight.