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imagine-you · 3 days ago

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Think I Only Want You Under My Mistletoe [Logan/Reader]

Summary: In which you need a fake date to your parent's Christmas party, Logan volunteers, and you realize that maybe your unrequited crush isn't so unrequited after all. May include: Fake Dating, Real Feelings, Meddlesome Friends, Terrible Parents, and Mistletoe. Word Count: 5.5k Author's Notes: Part of my In Another Life, Perhaps 'verse. In which they're stuck in a Hallmark Movie Universe??? Either way, Merry Christmas, y'all! 🎄

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"Ugh," you groaned, letting your face fall into your hands. You figured it was better than hitting your head against the table in the hopes that your situation would suddenly change.

"What's wrong?" Ororo asked, studying you across the break room table.

“My whole life,” you grumbled, knowing you were being childish, but glad that none of your students were around to see it.

You had managed to get a brief moment of respite from the teenagers roaming the halls of the X-Mansion by retreating to the makeshift teacher's lounge located in a room tucked away near the kitchen. All of you had worked to make it your own space.

Hank had lugged in a refrigerator and at some point a microwave had shown up on someone's repurposed nightstand. Charles had offered to pay for whatever the staff might have wanted, but all of you seemed to want to fill the room with personal touches and effects. So, someone had dragged in an old table that must have been stored in the attic and other people stole desk chairs from unoccupied rooms. Over time, a coffeemaker had been added along with a small cabinet full of snacks. There were also photos along the wall, candid and professional shots of the staff.

Your favorite was a group shot where most of you were making a goofy face. Your eyes were always drawn to Remy doing bunny ears behind Logan’s head and Logan in the middle of snarling at Remy to cut it out, but there was just the tiniest bit of a grin peeking at the edges of Logan’s mouth.

He swore he hated you all, but you knew better. He was part of the family and there was a reason he had stuck around despite his own protests.

The lounge was one of your favorite places to be and it was even better when you were joined by your fellow teachers and friends. It was a bonus perk knowing that none of the kids were allowed. You loved teaching and you loved all the bright, young students taking up residence in the mansion, but it was nice to get a break from time to time.

Especially when you needed a safe place to vent your frustrations about every wrong turn your life seemed to take.

“No, really, what’s wrong?” Ororo asked again.

"My parents," you sighed, sliding the invitation you received earlier that morning across the table so she could read it.

"What's the big deal, sugar?" Rogue wondered, leaning over Ororo’s shoulder so she could read the paper as well. "Sounds like a good time."

"Every year, it's always the same," you explained, reaching out to grab the invitation when Ororo handed it back. "My parents invite me to their Christmas party and I go because I love them, but I end up having a miserable time."

"If it's so miserable, why bother going?" Logan asked from where he was leaning up against the table that held the coffeemaker and microwave. He was sipping a beer and looked relaxed in a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. You had a fleeting thought that Logan looked really good and you hoped Charles or Jean hadn't managed to catch that.

Charles had only grown more meddlesome in his old age and you certainly didn’t need him trying to set you up with Logan. And Logan had been infatuated with Jean for as long as you had known him. You really didn’t cherish the idea of her knowing she had something you desperately wanted.

"It's complicated," you tried, but rolled your eyes when Logan simply arched a brow at you, unimpressed with your attempt at deflection. "My parents aren't so fond of mutants," you finally conceded, unsurprised at Logan's snort and shake of his head.

"I might be missing something here, but you're a mutant, aren't you?" Remy asked as he dropped down into the chair at Rogue's side. He let his arm stretch across the back of her chair and you noticed the way she leaned into him, careful not to let her skin brush against him.

You hadn't noticed Remy enter the room, since you had been so focused on Logan. You shrugged your shoulders, staring morosely at the rest of your sandwich. "Yeah," you sighed, meeting Remy's gaze. "They love me. They do," you insisted at Remy's incredulous look. "But they want me to be normal. I only see them a couple times a year, since I'm usually here with the X-Men, and every year at Christmas, without fail, I show up without a date like an idiot. And then my parents try to set me up with some normal human guy as if that will make me somehow more acceptable to them."

"That sure sounds a lot like conditional love, sugar," Rogue mused, quirking an eyebrow at you. "Why don't you just skip out on the party this year? Save yourself the hassle?"

"Because as much as they've royally fucked me up with all their anti-mutant bullshit, I still love them. I can't help it. So, if I have to suffer through another year of trying to ward off some random jackass' advances while my parents stand there smiling as if they can't see how uncomfortable I am? Then I'll deal with the torture if I can make them happy for a few minutes."

Silence invaded the room and you suddenly got the sense that every person in the room was staring at you. You didn't realize until you said it out loud just how fucked up your situation with your parents really was, but you were so deep into it that you didn't know if you'd ever be able to claw your way free.

"Well," Ororo started, leaning forward across the table and placing a hand on your arm, as if trying to offer you comfort. "If you want them to stop meddling, then show up with a date. Break the cycle."

"But that's the problem," you protested, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm not dating anyone, so I don't have a date."

"Well, it's not like it's got to be a real one, darling. Why I'm sure Remy would love to go with you. Your parents will sure get a kick out of him," Rogue offered, reaching out to settle a gloved hand on Remy's shoulder.

Remy offered you a smirk before holding out his hand with his palm turned up. You furrowed your brow as you rested your hand in his and laughed when he pulled your hand close and kissed it.

"It would be my pleasure," he vowed with a wink.

You glanced from Remy to Rogue and then back again, realizing they were completely serious. You knew your parents would flip when they met Remy. He was charming, but chaotic, and sure to piss your parents off. If his red, glowing eyes didn't give away that he was a mutant, then you were sure it would only be a matter of time before he blew something up.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad showing up with a date. Remy was your friend and you knew that he would do whatever it took to make sure you weren't cornered by some asshole who had been misled by your parents into thinking you were on the market. You felt safe with Remy and maybe for once you might actually enjoy one of your parent's Christmas parties.

"Alright," you decided, nodding your head as you drew you hand back. "Yeah, that sounds like--"

"I'll do it," Logan interrupted, startling you.

You had completely forgotten he was practically standing right behind you. You turned in your chair to look at him. You were surprised to see him studying you, expression intent.

"What?" You blurted, sure that you had misheard Logan.

"I'll be your date," Logan offered before casually raising his beer and taking a sip, as if he hadn't sent your heart into a frenzy.

"You don't have to," you assured him, not sure how you would be able to handle Logan as a date to your parent's Christmas party. It wasn't that you didn't want to go with Logan, because you absolutely did. The problem was that you had had a pathetic crush on him the moment you first laid eyes on him, but Logan was notoriously head over heels for Jean.

Even though she was married to Scott, you had heard time and again from practically every person on the X-Men that Logan had been in love with her from the first moment he met her. So, you wouldn't be able to handle a fake date with Logan, because you would spend the whole time desperately wishing that it was real.

"I want to," Logan insisted, finally standing up out of his slouch against the table that had been converted into a coffee bar. He rolled his shoulders, like he was preparing for a fight, and you wondered why he was being so adamant about being your date.

"That's sweet of you, Logan, but Remy already offered, and--," you tried before you were cut off by Logan again.

"I'll do it," Logan stressed, a hint of a growl in his voice as he stared down Remy like he was challenging him to something.

You glanced from Logan to Remy to Logan again.

"What the hell is going on," you muttered, shooting a bewildered look at Ororo and Rogue to see if they were as confused as you were.

Rogue looked amused and Ororo was watching Logan with an arched brow. But neither one seemed to be questioning the events that were playing out before them.

After what seemed like hours of intense eye contact between the two, Remy finally held up his hands in surrender. He shot you a wink, ignoring Logan's grunt of protest.

"I'm sure our Logan will do a fine job playing your paramour," Remy added, reaching out to run his fingers along your arm. "But if it doesn't work out, you know where to find me."

Logan grumbled something under his breath before he strode over. He snatched the invitation off the table, succeeding in separating you and Remy, before he skimmed over the page.

"How long will it take to get there?" Logan asked, glancing down at you.

"It's about a three-hour drive from here," you told him, trying not to focus too much on the fact that Logan was so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. The fabric of his sweatpants was dangerously close to brushing against your arm and you had to force yourself to stay absolutely still, because you weren't even sure what you would do if you allowed yourself to move.

"Be ready to leave by four tomorrow, then," Logan ordered before he placed his empty bottle of beer on the table between you and Remy and left the room.

You stared at the door for a moment before finally turning your gaze on the three people patiently waiting for you to break free of your stupor.

"What the hell just happened?" You wondered, still trying to catch up.

"What happened," Remy started, leaning back in his seat and placing his arm along the back of Rogue's chair again, "my beautiful, clueless friend, is that Ororo here owes me twenty dollars."

"What," you muttered, watching helplessly as Ororo handed Remy the money she evidently owed him.

"It was only a matter of time," Remy continued, tucking the money away in his pocket. "Logan's wanted you for years."

You scoffed, ready to deny it, but shut up at Ororo's eye roll.

"I thought he would never make a move, but Remy had far more faith in Logan than I did."

"A move? What move? There wasn't a move," you insisted.

"Swooping in and stealing you away from a fake date with my Remy? That was a move," Rogue assured you, grinning at you. "It was only a matter of time. Everyone knows about Logan's feelings except for you."

"There are no feelings, because he's been pining for Jean for years," you reminded them. You stood up, grabbing the invitation off the table, and fixed them all with a determined look. "You're all wrong, you know that? Nothing's going to happen between Logan and me," you told them before leaving the room.

You clutched the paper in your hands and tried to ignore the fact that you really, really wanted something to happen between you and Logan.

The next afternoon, you were nearly done getting dressed when someone knocked on your door. You glanced at the clock, realizing it was nearly four, and rushed to pull on your jacket as you walked to the door.

You opened the door and stood, stunned, at the sight of Logan dressed in a dark t-shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket. This was as close to dressed up as Logan got and you didn't get why he was going to all the effort just for you or your mutant-hating parents.

"Did you shave?" You blurted, noting that his usual scruff was a little more contained than usual.

Logan shrugged his shoulders, stepping to the side and gesturing for you to lead the way. You narrowed your eyes at him as you passed him, making for the front door of the mansion. Logan reached out and stopped you with a hand on your elbow, steering you towards the garage instead.

"Are we taking your bike?" Temperatures were quickly dropping outside and you didn't exactly want to freeze your ass off even if you would be pressed up against Logan.

"Nope," Logan answered, not bothering to clarify until he was standing right beside Scott's car.

"Are we stealing Summers' car?"

Logan held up the keys, flashing you a quick grin. "Asked for permission this time," he informed you before rounding the car and pulling open the passenger side door. He stood there, watching you expectantly, before you finally forced yourself to move.

"Thanks," you told him, gifting him with a smile, before settling into the passenger seat.

Logan gently closed the door for you before moving towards the driver's side. It wasn't long before he was pulling the car out of the garage as you put your parent's address into the navigation system. Christmas music faintly played, filling the silence between you, and you kept shooting nervous looks over at Logan. His shoulders were tense and his hands periodically clenched the steering wheel tight. You couldn’t tell if he was regretting his decision or feeling just as anxious as you were.

The silence began to feel excruciatingly awkward, but you didn't know how to fill it. You spent so long staring resolutely out the window that you didn't even notice when you began to drift off, your head lolling back against the headrest as your eyes closed.

"Y/N," Logan called, his hand on your shoulder cautiously shaking you awake.

"What?" You grumbled, reluctantly opening your eyes and squinting over at him.

Logan looked enraptured, a soft smile on his face as he studied you.

"We're here," he told you, prompting you to look out the windshield to the sight of your parent's home. Logan had parked the car in the long, winding driveway. There were already several cars parked along the side of it, which only made the driveway seem longer. "So, your family's loaded, huh?"

"Yeah," you groaned with a grimace. "Why do you think they keep trying to marry me off to all their rich friend's sons? They want their legacy to continue or whatever bullshit goes on in their heads."

"Damn," Logan sighed, shaking his head. "Good thing you won't have to worry about that this year, huh?"

You nodded your head, finally making yourself look at Logan again. You reached out, tentative, and placed your hand on his arm. "Logan?"

"Yeah?" He asked, staring down at your hand before turning slightly in his seat to face you.

"Thanks," you said, pulling your hand away when you realized you had been touching him for way too long to be normal. "For doing this," you clarified, ignoring the way your cheeks flushed at his attention. "You really didn't have to, you know."

Logan stared at you for one drawn-out intense moment and you fought the urge to look away. You inanely felt like you were in a predator's sights, which was stupid because Logan would never hurt you, but you still felt like you were being hunted.

"Yeah, I did," he finally responded, his gaze lingering on you before he glanced away.

Before you could question him, Logan got out of the car. You stared at the closed driver's side door for a moment before you took a deep breath and opened the passenger door. Logan met you just as you were getting out and he closed the car door for you.

He held out his arm and you linked yours with his as you headed up towards the house. You had to stop yourself from swaying into Logan's side. There was a feeling rising within you that you weren't sure how to contain. It was anticipation and longing and fear, because if you fucked this up, then what would you do? It would be awkward living and working in the same place as Logan and you hated the idea of avoiding him all to save yourself some dignity.

Before you were ready, you were standing on your parent's doorstep, hesitant to announce your arrival.

"What's wrong?" Logan asked, nudging you in the side with his elbow.

"We can leave," you blurted, avoiding his gaze. "We can leave and just skip this year and they never have to know I was here."

Logan sighed before unhooking his arm from yours and wrapping it around your shoulders. "I've got you," he promised. "Now ring the damn doorbell."

"That was almost sweet," you muttered, grinning at Logan's snort of amusement.

You reluctantly reached out to ring the doorbell, wincing at the chime you had heard throughout all your childhood. It meant you were home and not where you really belonged at the X-Mansion. You were still debating the merits of just making a run for it when the door opened and you were met with the sight of your mother.

She looked genuinely happy to see you, which was really one of the only things that was keeping you rooted to the spot. But then she realized you weren't alone and she turned her attention towards Logan. The warmth in her smile faded into something more polite and suited for company.

"Oh, you brought a friend," your mom observed, the corners of her mouth turning down in disapproval.

"I brought a date," you corrected her, trying not to startle when Logan dropped his hold on your shoulders and instead grabbed your hand. Feeling Logan lace his fingers through yours felt like the greatest thing ever and you hated that he was only doing it for show.

"And who is this?" Your mom asked, already dismissive of Logan despite knowing nothing about him.

She knew one thing, you thought, doing your best not to scowl at your mom. She hadn't picked Logan for you, so of course he wasn't good enough.

"Logan, ma'am," he introduced with a nod of his head.

"And how do you know my daughter, Logan?" Your mom interrogated, staring him down as if she could make him disappear if she concentrated hard enough.

It was then you realized your mom was refusing to move until she got her answers. Your mom hated being perceived as rude and you knew she must really not want Logan there if she wasn't even going to pretend to welcome him.

"Y/N and I work together and--" Logan cut himself off and shot you a wary look. You shook your head, letting him know not to tack on that you practically lived together as well. "We work together," he settled on with a small shrug of his shoulders.

"Are you one of those?" Your mom asked, gesturing briefly towards you.

You felt Logan tense up at your side and knew that trouble was fast approaching. Logan smiled at your mom, practically baring his teeth, and cocked his head to the side. "A mutant?" He supplied, practically not blinking as he met your mom's unimpressed stare with one of his own. "You could say that, sure," he added with a dangerous smirk that sent warning bells ringing in your head.

You tightened your hold on Logan's hand, lending him your own brand of moral support while also hoping to shut him up. "Mom, it's cold out here," you hinted, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Maybe you should invite us in.”

"Right," she muttered before stepping aside. "Why don't you and your...date," she practically sneered, "come in?"

"Thanks," Logan told your mom, offering her a wide, unsettling smile. "Your hospitality is appreciated."

You had never really seen Logan like this before. Maybe once or twice when he was in the same room as Scott and Jean and he wanted to get under Scott's skin. But this was somehow different and terrifying and just a bit thrilling.

Logan was doing his damnedest to stand up for you while also pretending to respect your mom. You could tell your mom was disappointed in you, but you didn't even care. You found yourself wishing that bringing Logan as your date was real, but you would take what you could get. You would just have to enjoy Logan's attention for as long as you had it.

Logan urged you forward with a hand on the small of your back and then helped you shrug out of your coat. “You weren’t kidding,” he muttered under his breath, sounding irritated. “You’ve put up with this shit your whole life?”

“Yeah,” you answered, knowing it was starting to look really pathetic on your part.

Your mom had retreated into the living room. You could see her talking to your dad and she pointed towards you and Logan. Your dad scowled before schooling his expression into something more neutral.

"Shit," you hissed, before grabbing Logan's arm. "Let's go somewhere else," you suggested.

"I go where you go," Logan promised, letting you lead him towards the dining room where you knew you would find a buffet-style spread of food.

At the very least, this was something your parents always got right. Logan looked exhilarated as he piled a plate with all kinds of food, ranging from strips of steak to scalloped potatoes to slices of honey glazed ham.

“Now this is a spread,” he approved, taking a bite of stuffed mushroom.

“Eat up,” you told him, grinning at him. “You’ve earned it.”

After eating and then drifting from room to room in a bid to avoid your parents, you realized that Logan was intent on keeping his word. He stayed right there at your side, letting you introduce him to your parent's friends and their kids with a smile on his face and a hand on the small of your back.

You were beginning to feel flustered having Logan in your space, so you retreated to the one place you knew you could drop the facade for just a little bit and gain a tiny bit of your sanity back.

You ended up hanging out with the children that had been left in a room near the back of the house. You had always hated being a kid at your parent's parties, because it meant you were stuck in a room with other kids and basically ignored for the rest of the night. But now, as an adult, it was the only true refuge to be found at your parent’s house during a party.

You ended up entertaining them with your powers. You helped some float using your forcefields and you turned invisible and let them try to find you. All the while, Logan stood at the entryway of the room, watching you with a fond little smile that set off a fluttering in the pit of your stomach.

After half an hour of Logan's undivided attention, you decided to give yourself a break. You planned on staying with the kids, so you doubted your parents would even find you. The plan was foolproof and would give you the time to calm your racing heart.

"Hey, would you mind getting me a drink?" You asked Logan, glancing up at him from where you were crouched on the floor and letting Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter draw what you thought might be a unicorn on your arm.

Logan nodded his head, pushing off the doorframe he had been leaning against. He looked so fond and you couldn’t take it anymore.

"Any preferences?"

"Surprise me," you told him with a grin, feeling just the slightest bit bold and playful.

“You got it.” Logan winked before leaving the room, doing nothing to help you feel any more in control of the situation.

"Are you and Mr. Logan getting married?" Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter asked you, adding what you assumed was blood beneath the unicorn's hooves. Either that, or she had run out of green for grass and was making do with what she had on hand.

"Mr. Logan doesn't like me like that," you told her, obediently turning your arm over when she tapped it and shook a blue marker at you.

"Yes, he does," she answered, as if it was that simple. She started shading in a sky and you hoped it would be easy to wash off later.

"Well, isn't that adorable," someone drawled from the doorway.

"Fuck," you breathed, instantly recognizing the voice.

"That's an uh-oh word," Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter reprimanded you.

"Sorry," you told her, patting her on the shoulder before standing up. You reluctantly turned to see your ex standing there. "What're you doing here?"

"Your parents invited me," Timothy told you, studying you. "God, you look great."

"Shit," you groaned, realizing that Timothy had been the person they were going to try to set you up with this year.

"That's another uh-oh word," Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter informed you with a disapproving frown.

"Right," you agreed before walking towards Timothy. "Maybe in front of the children isn't the best place for this conversation."

You brushed past Timothy, hating that you were in the same room as him, much less signing yourself up for a confrontation. You had been convinced for three years that Timothy was the one until he told you that he would rather adopt children than risk you passing on any of your 'mutant genes' to them. It had crushed you, realizing that Timothy didn't fully love you at all, and you had packed up all your things and joined the X-Men.

If anything, it should have made your parents hate Timothy for driving you away. Instead, they seemed to think he was the one who got away for you and you would never do any better.

You stopped in the entryway of an empty guest room and turned to face him.

"Look, I don't know what my parents told you, but I'm here with a date. I'm taken, alright? I don't want to get back together."

"Oh, come on," Timothy said, moving forward until he was in your space. "There's no date. You don’t have to lie to me to make me want you more. I want you. I always have. And now we're here and there's a really good reason why I should kiss you right now," he continued with a quick glance up.

You tried not to wince as you also took a chance and looked up at the frame of the doorway. "Mistletoe," you observed, hating that you had the worst luck. "It wasn't on purpose."

"I already told you that you don't have to lie to me," Timothy claimed before bringing a hand up and cupping your cheek. "I'm all yours, babe. Just say the word."

"Leave," Logan growled, approaching the pair of you from down the hallway. He had two wine glasses in his hands which he quickly set down on a table displaying family photos.

"Who the fuck are you?" Timothy asked, barely even budging from his spot in front of you.

"My date," you helpfully informed him just as Logan unsheathed his claws.

"What the--" Timothy started just as you pushed him away with a forcefield. He went stumbling back, shooting you a look of betrayal. "You swore you'd never use that against me."

"When we dated, sure," you reminded him. "But we're not together anymore. And we never will be again," you stressed, hoping he would get the message.

When Logan kept coming towards the two of you, not bothering to put away his claws, Timothy's eyes widened.

"Move it, bub," Logan snarled, looking like he was moments away from sinking his claws into Timothy.

"Okay, okay, I get it, whatever. Tell your boyfriend I'm sorry," he rambled, practically scrambling to get away from you and Logan.

You watched him scurry away, a grin tugging at your lips. "That was great," you exclaimed, turning back towards Logan. You nearly jumped when you realized that Logan was now standing right in front of you.

He packed the claws away and reached up to frame your face in his hands.

"What are you doing?" You whispered, your heart suddenly pounding so hard you were sure Logan would be able to hear it going crazy.

"There's mistletoe," Logan reminded you, his voice soft and intimate.

"We don't have to," you assured him. "I mean, it's just a dumb tradition, right? It's--"

"What I want," Logan finished for you, expression intent and serious. His thumb gently swept along your jaw and you didn't even have time to process the fact that Logan wanted to kiss you before his lips were pressed against yours.

Your brain went haywire trying to figure out what to do. You brought your hands up, unsure where they should land, before you settled them on Logan's shoulders. You were worried you would fuck the moment up by not responding, so you poured all your feelings into the kiss. You had wanted Logan for so long and if this was the only kiss you got from him, then you wanted it to be something you remembered for years to come.

Logan's touch remained gentle, but his kiss was searching and all-consuming. You nipped lightly at his lips, testing for a reaction, and shivered when Logan moaned and reeled you in closer.

By the time you pulled away, you felt like Logan had thoroughly claimed you. You nearly couldn't catch your breath, torn between giddy anticipation and fear that this was all about to come crashing down around you.

You met Logan's eyes, unsure of what you would find there. You froze for a moment, sure that you were wrong, but you let yourself take the time to really look at him. You couldn’t afford to mess this up. There was way too much at stake.

Logan was watching you like you were the only thing in the whole world. He was looking at you with affection and want and something that looked a lot like love to you. It was exactly what Remy, Rogue, and Ororo had claimed Logan had been doing all along.

"I've really got to thank Remy," you muttered, realizing that he had been right that Logan had been making a move by agreeing to be your fake date. Except, Logan did have real feelings for you, but you were the only one who hadn't been able to see it.

"What?" Logan growled, his grip briefly tightening on you. "You're really thinking about Remy right now? After what just happened, he’s what’s on your mind?"

You shook your head, smiling at Logan. Logan had absolutely no reason to be jealous, because even if he might not be aware of it, there was no one who could ever compete with him. No one else had ever made you feel the way Logan made you feel. You felt like there was a warmth taking root in your chest and it was lighting you up inside. It was all Logan. His touch, his kiss, and his affection had you feeling invincible.

As long as you had him, you truly could do anything. Including deal with your parents and their intolerance and shitty choice of suitors for you.

Logan had volunteered to be your date and had spent a whole evening putting up with your parents and their snooty, prejudiced friends all for you. Logan had run off your ex and then kissed you like he wanted nothing more than to keep doing that for the rest of his life. Logan wanted you just as much as you wanted him and you felt like you were on top of the world.

You didn't care that this had started out as fake, because now it was real and there was really only one thing you wanted to do now that you knew you had Logan.

"You've got nothing to worry about. You're all I want," you assured him before reeling him back in for another kiss underneath the mistletoe.

It wasn’t exactly the Christmas you had expected to have, but it was turning out to be the only one worth celebrating.

Logan was truly the best gift you had ever received.

All Logan Taglist: @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @slightlymediocree @snowyminty @i-wear-wet-socks313 @shizzybarnaclee

Series Taglist: @ayamenimthiriel @the-gentle-spirit @wolflover-20

If you would like to be added to the all logan or the series taglist, just let me know!

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #x men #x men imagine #logan howlett imagine #wolverine imagine #reader insert #imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #christmas fic #logan x reader #in another life perhaps verse #fic #ao3 #my fic

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scudevils · 2 days ago

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it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas — QH43

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, bit of a rushed ending sorry, not proofread!!

inspired by: “it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas” by bing crosby [1.2k]

a/n: a quick one for boyfriend quinn appreciation

it was a rare quiet day in the middle of the season, quinn who was usually surrounded by the hustle and bustle of hockey life, found himself sitting beside you in the warm glow of holiday lights, the smells of cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger filled the air, mixing with the sound of soft christmas music playing in the background.

you'd been to the store earlier in the week, a gingerbread house kit lay spread out on the kitchen table to welcome him home from the road game in carolina, your niece's expectant eyes looking up at the pair of you as the pieces game in their own neatly placed bags, you and quinn shared a look of hesitation.

"this is way more complicated than it looks," was the first thing he said, peering at the instruction booklet with a playful grimace, eyeing up your niece's miniature house which was going a lot better than yours. his hair, slightly messier than usual, hinted at the fact that he had been running his hands through it in frustration, dark strands falling in front of his face. you laughed softly, enjoying the moment of calm in an otherwise busy season, and even off the ice he was just as competitive. (even if it was against a 9 year old)

"i thought you were good at building things," you teased, taking a sip from one of the hot chocolate you'd made for the three of you, choosing to take a step back from the building business as it was getting a big heated. "you're an athlete, you know... strategy, precision, focus?" you gave him a wink.

quinn grinned, his eyes lighting up in that characteristic way that always made you smile. "i play hockey, not architect. but i'm willing to try. you're the one with all the crafting experience, right?"

you raised an eyebrow at his suggestion, the most building you'd ever done in your life was a science fair project when you were 11, and even then your dad had built the majority of it. "crafting experience? skylar's got more crafting experience with me, she still does homework."

"alright, alright, I'll admit it," he said, grinning, the little girl beside them too busy already decorating her gingerbread house to care about what you had been saying. "maybe I need your help after all."

he reached for the frosting bag with a dramatic sigh, and you couldn't help but laugh as skylar's first order of business was to take the icing out of his hands. "read the instructions first," she said, flipping the booklet open and starting to explain the steps.

quinn looked at the pieces in front of him, tempted to give up and just eat the gingerbread, but that wasn't his nature, squinting like he was trying to figure out the lines on a hockey rink for the first time again. "wait, do you put the roof on first, or the walls?"

"okay, we need to build the base first. that's the most important part," you said, guiding him through it, looking to skylar for approval and she nodded, adding sweets onto her own now. "if the walls don't stay up, it's game over."

with a bit of teamwork, and an insane amount of luck that neither of you bumped into the table, you two managed to assemble the walls, and quinn was about to put the roof on before an idea struck him.

"so, are we going for traditional?" he asked, his tone suggesting he had something else in mind as he eyed the candy decorations, almost as if he was a real interior designer planning the layout for their house. "or... are we going for something a little more creative? like... a hockey rink gingerbread house?"

you raised an eyebrow at the suggestion, of course he would say that, you loved the man but sometimes you swore hockey was the only thing on his mind. "hockey rink? you've got to be kidding. i’m surprised you aren’t dying to get away from your job."

but quinn was already pointing out ideas, his mind running with possibilities, the coloured icing they could use to represent the teams, the different positions they should put in. "what if we add little gingerbread players with tiny sticks? and like, a frosting rink with icing lines?" he was grinning now, clearly enjoying the process way more than he'd let on, enjoying the design park much more than he had the building part.

"you're impossible," you spoke through a laugh, his enthusiasm something you loved about him and couldn't help but let you get in the spirit too.

together, you piped out a frosting rink on the base of the house decorated little gingerbread men with icing and tiny candies, making them into the most chaotic-looking hockey players you'd ever seen, some with more lopsided faces than the others. quinn insisted on adding mini pucks made of chocolate chips.

skylar had also finished her house, adding the final touches the one you and quinn had made too, her a candyland inspired design with sweets lining the road and covering the house.

as the arena started to take shape, you felt a warmth that wasn't just from the hot chocolate on the counter. it was from the way his eyes lit up with every silly detail he added, down to the numbers on the jerseys that his teammates wore.

by the time you were both done, the gingerbread house hockey arena—although a little uneven and very unconventional—was something to be proud of. it was uniquely yours, and in that moment, it was perfect. beside it sat the little actual gingerbread house your niece has made, edible glitter covering the icing and pieces of sweets missing from where she'd eaten them.

quinn stepped back, inspecting your creation with an exaggerated squint. "i think we nailed it," he said, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

you leaned back in your chair, your head falling to rest his shoulder, admiring the gingerbread arena too. "honestly, it might be a little off-center..." noticing how the roof sloped down on one side while the other held up, "but it sure can't be called basic."

quinn chuckled, sitting next to you. "i think that's what matters most."

#nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes fanfiction #scudevils #ficmas 2024

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sweetflanfiction · 12 hours ago

Text

Assymetrical Symphony - Part 11

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N: I am going on a little vacay and I'll probably won't be able to update it as regurlarly, but I'm going to try and schedule this chapter and another one. Good news is more time to write :D

A.N. 2: Apparently the tags have not been wroking. If you asked to be tagged and haven't been, let me know!

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10

• ··········· • ············ •

It was the morning of the day after Viktor had come to the penthouse and taken a twelve-hour power nap.

You walked into the kitchen with a yawn that stopped abruptly when you saw the three people in the room. Two of its usual occupants: your mother, Wyllah, but also a very tired Jayce. Your eyes shifted between your mother and the tanned man on the table, hunching sheepishly as he sipped from a mug filled with coffee to the brim.

“Jayce?” Your tone is a mix between a welcome and a question, not even bothering to call him by his title.

He mumbled his reply, and you looked back at your mother and Wyllah. They both gave a sad smile and a shrug.

“You left the lab.” You began, trying to get him to talk, and he nodded.

His hair was unkempt, and his beard was starting to emerge, meaning he probably had not even been home yet.

“I needed to find Viktor.” He said, not looking up from the mug. “Your mother found me halfway out of the Academy.”

“I left one of my security guards at the lab door,” Wyllah explained proudly. “No one is getting in unless we say so.”

“Thank you.” Jayce said, still looking at his reflection.

“Did you two argue?” You asked, knowing the answer.

Viktor would have never just walked out of the lab, leaving his best friend behind, and Jayce wouldn’t look half as dejected if they had parted ways amicably. Although Viktor had probably already gotten over the argument, Jayce liked to mull over it.

“How…?” he asked. “Wild guess…” you answered.

He sighed, putting his head on his head, finger digging into his unkempt hair.

“What was it about?” You inquired, pouring yourself a cup of coffee, even though you could also guess the subject.

“What do you think?” He snapped, and you sat down in front of him at the booth, grabbing a cookie from the plate one of the older women had placed on the table.

“The great mystery of Runeterra.” You grinned, and he just stared at you, eyes narrowed. “I know it was about the council shenanigans, but what was it specifically about? Gods know you two can fight about a fleck of dust in the window.”

Jayce looked at you and was about to retort but closed his mouth and looked at his coffee before sighing and reopening his mouth.

“I told him I want to give the Hextech freely to the council in exchange for keeping us there as engineers for it, no matter what. I would rather be there to stop them from screwing up than have it destroyed or sold to someone else.” He sighed. “Viktor would rather grab everything and run as far as he can to keep it safe.”

You smiled softly at him gently and touched his white-knuckled hand on the mug. He relaxed his grip and looked at you.

“You can both be right, you know.” “I know, but it’s not that I want to be right… It’s just…” he scoffed, frustrated, looking at the window. “He has stood up for so long, taken so many beatings from topside, kept a straight face throughout everything we’ve ever been through; he has made his mark in this world whether he signs on it or not… And now he wants to run? It feels like a step backward.”

“You both know what hunger feels like, what a wind so cold that seeps through your clothes feels like in your bones. You both know how it is to have nothing and then have everything.” Jayce looked at you both confused and interested. “The difference is Tallis; he knows what happens when you just wait and watch. You get eaten by the big fish eventually. He stood up so many other times because he knew you’d have his back. But right now both your backs are against the wall, and there will be no sorcerer to help you escape the storm.”

There was silence in the kitchen as Jayce searched your eyes for answers all the while trying to assimilate what you said about Viktor.

“How…?” He asked again. “Your past and my present aren’t that different.”

His eyes widened for a second, and he was about to start talking again when you shook your head.

“Discussion for another time and place.”

He nodded, still reeling but quieted down when the telltale sounds of a cane making its way to the kitchen were heard.

“What do I say?” “Nothing…” you whispered back. “He is your friend Jay. He understands the same way you do…deep down…”

Viktor was also stifling a yawn as he made his way to the kitchen, stopping mid-stride just as you did when he saw the other man in the kitchen.

“Jayce?” He puzzled, eyes still blinking the sleep away. “Hey, buddy! You got me worried there for a second.” Jayce got up from the table and walked towards him, scratching the back of his neck. “Listen…I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t.”

Viktor blinked a couple of times and gave him a nod and a smile.

“Do not worry, Jayce. I understand.” He patted the bigger man’s arm and limped to the small breakfast nook, where you sat.

“Thank you, Madame Rainemour, for the hospitality.” He smiled at your mother, and she smiled back. “I don’t think I had any say in it this time, but you're welcome, my dear.”

He shifted his eyes to you, and you shrugged.

“You looked like exhaustion and tiredness had a child and left it out in the rain.” You paused and raised an eyebrow, conveying you were joking. “No offense…”

“None taken.” He smirked and grabbed a cookie from the plate.

“Well,” your mother clapped, and everyone’s eyes turned to her, you noticing a small grin on Wyllah’s face. “Since everyone is now sort of awake and looking less dejected…I have a plan…” “A plan?” Jayce asked, leaning against the door frame. “A plan.” Wyllah repeated. “Should I be scared?” Viktor asked, and both older women shook their heads in sync. “That makes me scared.” “Alright, you two... out with it...” You motioned with your head for the ladies to sit and talk.

Your mother started to explain what she had been doing yesterday after she left you and Viktor. Esther had put on her detective’s hat and gone to investigate the ins and outs of whatever was happening with the Hextech vs. Council situation.

She found that the council was going to make the decision to take control of Talis Lab and Hextech in a week or so, with Councilor Salo spearheading the efforts, being the one that seemingly had lost more in the rocket attack.

He had announced to all of those who wanted to hear him about the dangers of the usage of hextech by those who wanted the worst for Piltover. The topsiders had clutched their pearls and agreed he was right and that the council, the voice of all citizens of Piltover, needed to seize control of the tech.

Jayce bonked his forehead on the door frame where he was leaning, and Viktor rolled his eyes.

“I’m starting to see the beauty of him as a stain on the hex gate’s floor…” you mumbled, munching on a cookie. Viktor looked at you questioningly, and you shrugged him off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Do not despair, my dears; as I’ve noted, I have a plan.”

Between her and Wyllah, the plan was laid out in front of the three of you. Your mother would rally up all of the investors and get them to stop the tech from falling into the council’s hands. It seemed simple and very straightforward, but knowing the Topsiders, there will be money exchange and drama and fights. Something your mother seemed very willing to do.

Both of the scientists had nodded in agreement to whatever your mother had put on the table, and you realized how much trust they all had in each other. The universe had to find a way to make up for you not being here. It had put your mother in their path so they could have her instead of you. It hurt as much as it elated you.

“And what do we do in the meantime?” Viktor asked, breaking a cookie in half. “Well, we will need Jayce’s assistance.” Esther pointed at the broader man. “His place as a councillor and one part of the Hextech team will help us get to certain people. But I don’t think that would be your cup of tea, so you can keep securing the lab and the projects, making sure nothing ends up being shown to prying eyes.” “Are they allowing us to work?” Viktor asked Jayce. “No. No hextech projects are allowed to go forth.” Both men sighed. “I’ll stay in the lab with Viktor. I don’t want to get mixed up in that crowd again…” “Again?” Jayce raised his eyebrows, and you matched the expression.

After a while of discussing and more planning, between calculation and scheduling, your head was about to burst, so you excused yourself for a bathroom break and walked to the living room. You sat on the chair that wasn’t Viktor’s favorite place on earth and, drowning out the noise from the kitchen, felt the sunshine on your face.

You jumped at Jayce’s voice calling your name right next to you.

“Holy blue balls of Hextech.” You mumbled, putting your hands on your heart and leaning back on the chair. “Oh, so that’s where it comes from…” Jayce joked. “Sorry…” “Don’t worry about it.” You looked up at him, leaning your elbows into your knees.

“About that thing you said before.” Jayce took a deep breath. “I never told that to anyone but Viktor, and I know he would never tell anyone…” “Like I said, your past is my present. I was snapped here the same way you were.” “Yeah, I got it the first time. I’m as smart as the other co-creator of Hextech, believe it or not.” He grinned. “How? I have searched and researched high and low to figure out why it happened to me, and I never found the answers. Did he appear to you too? The mage? Did some runes in the sky and…new place, new you?”

You shook your head and looked at your hands. He was taking this considerably well, which made sense since he had also lived through something similar.

“I don’t know how it happened; I was there one second and here the next.” “That’s why you ran to the council room; you did know what was gonna happen.” He frowned, his eyes searching the air for connections. “Were you in the council room? Or in the Undercity?”

“I was in the lab when it happened. All was quiet, and then…boom…” “What changed?” Jayce asked, and you shook your head. “I’m not going to tell you. Not all of the details. You…from there…lived it…you felt it…If I tell you, it might make you do something that would lead to the same path, and…I can’t go through that again.”

He nodded, understanding that the addition of knowledge to a situation can drastically change the outcome. You looked at his wrist, the leather band secured tightly around it and the teardrop-shaped gem encased in it. Stretching your arm, you grabbed his hand, turning it palm up. The rune was different.

Jayce also grabbed your hand and turned it palm up. A different rune was carved there, not glowing since you had spent most of the night remaking the star rune in case Viktor woke up. You looked up at him and sighed, his eyes searching for answers.

“I think the technical term is Rune Speaker…” You smiled at him, finding amazement in his eyes.

• ············ •

It didn’t take the group long to have a sort of guarding schedule around keeping the stuff in the lab from prying eyes. Because it was involved in council business, the boys couldn’t work there, but they refused to leave anything unsupervised. And that’s why they had looked like exhaustion itself.

Between the two of them, yourself and some of Wyllah's personal security, it was manageable, although Salo had shaken his fist at having the unknown guards at the door. To which your mother promptly told him she had more money invested in that lab than he could count; she was merely securing her investment.

Your endeavor to enter the orchestra was still in full swing, so you took the time at the lab to write out some of the music you were composing. You had an outline of the piece, but it needed tweaking and cleaning up.

You were not a composer. You hated writing your music. It felt strained. You’d rather just sit at the piano and play something from the top of your head. You were good at that. This was hell for you.

Groaning, you laid your forehead on the cold lab table and groaned. A hand patted your arm, and instinctively you jumped back as far as you could.

“Eh. It’s just me, good old Viktor.” the scientist announced, limping around you and placing a cup of tea and something wrapped in a cloth on the table. “One of those days, huh?”

He sat down next to you and peered at what you were doing.

“Looks complicated.” He said, taking a book out of his shoulder bag, and you look at him sideways, glaring at the man. You pointed to the chalkboard that now has a sheet covering it and raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve seen what you do…” you mumbled. “Numbers. I crunch numbers. Calculation and variants. It’s easy. I see them in my mind. Some are more complicated than others, but… It’s easy. This…?” He touched the clean sheet of music and made a negative sound with his throat. “Cannot comprehend.”

“Remind me to teach you the scale at some point. My mother is catching on pretty quickly. I fear she might get the position faster than me.” “Position?” “I’m trying for the orchestra. I’ve learned that being a stay-at-home Piltie is not for me.” “Piltie?” He frowned at the nickname the Zaunites gave the topsiders. “How very uncivilized of you.”

You both chuckled at his joke, and he nudged your shoulder in a friendly manner. He mentioned the wrapped thing with his chin, and you grabbed it. A small little cake was inside. A round little creamy thing with a slice of strawberry on top.

“Don’t expect much.” He said, opening his book. “It’s from the Academy’s cafe.”

You took a bite out of it. It was a little dry, but it was sugar, and you welcomed the feeling of something sweet in these desperate times.

“Where's Jayce?” You asked after you finished with the pastry. “I thought he was supposed to come with you.”

Viktor took a sip of his cup of tea and shook his head, rolling his eyes in the process.

“Councilor Medarda asked to see him.” He scoffed. “Confraternizing with the enemy, more like it.” “Spending time with his significant other.” you corrected, smiling when he made a ‘yeah yeah’ face.

Silent took over the lab while the two of you both got entranced by your tasks; only the scratching of pens on paper was heard. It was a friendly silence, with both of you sitting close enough that your knees would bump occasionally. Sometimes you would hum the melody you were writing, and he would stop writing to listen to it.

After a while Viktor stretched, moving his arms up to the ceiling. You looked at him and mimicked the movement but stretched your arms in front of you. The two loud ‘aahs’ of pleasure came from both of you in sync, making you both snort.

“I have been thinking…” Viktor began relaxing on the table, his shoulder hunching over. “The other day, you kept having to remake the rune.”

“You noticed?” You looked away from him, slightly embarrassed. “I thought you were sleeping.” “I caught you once or twice. It was a nice gesture, so I kept quiet. In any case, you had to keep redoing it. And well, we have had the same problem with the cores.”

“Vik…” you warned, but he raised his hand, stopping you.

“I know, but technically I am not using your magic for Hextech; I’m using Hextech for your magic. We solved that problem by introducing an artificial rune to the process.” He drew two squares touching on one corner, a crude infinity symbol. “That sustains the power of the core indefinitely. If we work at this the same way we work with Hexcore, your rune ‘push’ simply means you have no other inputs to add to it, and that means that inputs can be added.”

You remembered the rune circle in the council chambers. Going by what Viktor was saying, it made sense; the magic didn’t happen until you had pushed it forward, waiting until you finished the whole rune circle to work and slamming your hand on it to work.

“Could work, but if you tell it to keep going indefinitely, how do we stop it?“ You looked back at him and saw him scratch his neck.

“Usually we have buttons and dials…sometimes an emergency lever.”He placed his head on his hands and looked around for inspiration to strike.

You looked down at your music sheet and rolled your eyes. The answer was right in front of you. You slid the music sheet towards him.

“When you want to bring your composition to an end, you add this…” You pointed to a circle enclosing a crosshair.

“The runes are a language, and languages are fluid. New words are being introduced every day. We can keep adding to it until it works…” Viktor continued excitedly. “We have to test this theory.”

“I’m not going to test something that has a possibility of permanently staying in your lab. I don’t think a never-ending whirlwind is very discreet.”

His shoulders slumped for a second, and then he pointed to a small door next to the front door. That was a cleaning supply room spacious enough for the janitor to keep his cart there, but it was closed off so that if something were to happen in there, it would be contained.

“Alright…Let’s test this out.” You rolled the stool away from the table and slapped your hands on your thighs, watching Viktor move with efficiency.

• ············ • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr

#arcane #viktor #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor arcane #viktor arcane x reader #slow burn #viktor x you #viktor x y/n #arcane viktor x reader #viktor league of legends #arcane season 2 #arcane x you #arcane characters #arcane reader

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starlightomatic · 16 hours ago

Text

this thing (the christmussy) appears and you slide down it

mazel tov you're now in an alternate universe.

you go on facebook and you see a post in the group for an app you have. every month there's a new theme announcement, and you see march has just been announced. it's cherry blossom themed; a cherry blossom dress for your avatar, a backdrop of cherry blossom trees for your virtual room. you think it's beautiful and really well-done.

you glance down and see the comments. there are many people upset that the theme isn't purim, with others reassuring them they can still get purim items in the shop and explaining that the app already did purim for the march event two years ago and doesn't want to repeat. but people are still upset, because they'd been saving up their in-game currency to buy purim items. this doesn't totally make sense because the event items don't cost any currency. but it's clear everyone expected a purim event, and that they feel a cherry blossom event would have been more appropriate for april because flowering trees are more of a pesach thing. a couple commenters mention that they don't celebrate purim and so they really appreciate that the team chose an inclusive theme, and that they think the cherry blossom theme is beautiful.

one thread goes something like this:

chana: ah, i was hoping for something more silly and purim-y

maryam: sorry, but not everyone celebrates purim. besides there are actually five different holidays celebrated in march, including purim. even then, not everyone celebrates those holidays. it's not all about one group of people. everyone needs to feel included.

chana: i'm fully aware, thanks. the silly purim is not the same as the religious purim, anyway. hamentashen are not in the torah. i know muslims who celebrate the commercial purim. i'm a jew who has done lots of interfaith work, by the way.

you notice it seems like several of maryam's responses aren't showing up: facebook glitch or were they deleted? or maybe chana is just so worked up she's commenting many times?

chana: in short i was asking for a springtime theme not a full-on megillah reading. you could have sought to understand before jumping to that conclusion. peace.

chana continues in this vein, even accusing maryam of "attacking her," and also makes a weird dig about maryam's islam.

golda: try not to let this person upset you. you should be allowed to make such a statement without being lectured on religion -- this is not the place for that, or at least it shouldn't be. people are here to encourage and support each other. i also wish it was a silly purim theme. hope you have a great day :)

elkie: i agree. i would love to get a grogger.

rachel: admin! this is stressful.

tamar, the admin, jumps in. she doesn't mention chana's weird comments about maryam's islam, but merely asks for the conversation to stop. it doesn't.

ari: there is a grogger from one of the previous march events! it'll be in the shop all month. my family celebrated purim and mardi gras, so i have an outfit with a grogger and mardi gras beads!

chana: rachel, i'm so sorry.

chana: tamar, thank you and my apologies for my part in this.

zelda: chana, you can still buy jewish purim/wiccan ostara/mardi gras/etc type items in the store :) even a pineapple costume! lmao! your outfit can be as silly as you'd like it to be :)

katie: hi chana! i hear you saying it's disappointing there isn't a silly purim theme, and it's frustrating that anyone would push back on that because it's not religious so there's no way anyone would feel left out. i do just want to gently mention, for a lot of folks who are from other faiths and cultures, silly purim also isn't something that we celebrate. if the app had gone that route, we would of course understand because that is what the majority wants and we respect it, but it's true we would still feel left out. the app isn't obligated to change anything for us, of course, but the fact that they did is very sweet (well -- i'm not sure if inclusion was the intent, but it was the result!)

chana: just checking you've seen this. *includes screenshot of tamar's admin comment*

chana: can i also clarify one final time that i mentioned nothing of religion, nothing about faith, nothing about megillah, esther, or anything. i was simply hoping for a silly theme with funny hats and a cotton candy machine. the first person to mention anything to do with religion was NOT me. my initial comment has been taken wildly out of context and i am deeply upset that this conversation is continuing despite admin asking for it to stop. i'm done.

chana: tamar, i really don't want to leave this group, but this is past unacceptable at this point.

you don't see what happens next because you decide it's time to log off. you close your computer and go outside and touch some grass. you're free.

It's Black Friday and you know what that means: It's Christmas discourse season!

There's a disconnect that comes up every year in these conversations, and I've never seen it illustrated as clearly as in the conversation below.

Context: This is a community group for an app that involves themes and items, and this year's December theme is winter-y but decidedly not Christmassy.

Some people were upset about that, which isn't unexpected, and then this conversation ensued:

What is.... what is going on here? Why is red so upset? Why are they struggling to understand that "cozy" Christmas is still not universal? Does it feel threatening to them?

I mean, maybe green had a bunch of comments and then deleted them or facebook was glitching, but I can't find anything wrong with their initial comment. Is red just annoyed because it's unkind to challenge someone who's just saying they're sad? I don't think that's the only thing though because red doesn't seem to understand either green's or blue's comments and it's a misunderstanding I see every single year.

Also, I don't understand what the issue was with blue, or why that also upset red that much. Is it just because blue ignored the mod's request to close the thread?

Like.... either there's something I'm not getting or there's something red's not getting. I suspect it's red, tbh, because they started talking about how they never mentioned anything about Jesus, the nativity, or religion -- but blue actually addressed that in their comment.

Outside the context of someone getting pushback on just saying they'd wished something different had happened, which I recognize feels shitty, are there ways people like blue and green can phrase things so that it clicks for people like red, or is it a lost cause?

And what am I missing about red's perspective?

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hellsslibrary · 14 hours ago

Note

Could you write about Hiori, Chigiri, and Bachira giving their male!reader boyfriend a blowjob? Maybe Chigiri thigh fucking... Hiori sadistically making you wait to cum, and Bachira with his feet?

Blow it, move it, bite it, ride it. Just come on, make a move on it.

#a.n. : I absolutely loved writing this, so it's okay!! And it's kind of implied that you're all in Blue Lock... I have no idea where the camera-less bedroom came from, so :).

!!Warnings: male!reader, dom!Hiori and implied dom!bachira, top!reader in Chigiri's part (kind of), blowjob (Hiori), footjob (Bachira), thigh-fuck (Chigiri), Hiori is a sadist, overstimulation (Hiori), Chigiri is a sass (like always), Bachira... A little strange (but in a good way as always, yea). And reader is a football player too. Purely theoretically, one can imagine that this is a strap (except for the Hiori part, of course), so anyone can read it, I don't care anyway.

Hiori Yo.

Your hand slides through the blue hair for the umpteenth time that night. You have an incredible, overwhelming urge to grab them and plant that face deeper on your dick, but no... You just can't. How many times have you been denied an orgasm? Three or so, or maybe you've lost count.

Only that smug face with those bright blue eyes glowing with joy knows the exact number.

"Yo... Am I seriously unable to cum, even after all this?" you ask, knowing the answer perfectly well, but just like in the past, smoldering with hope that he will break up and give in.

"No," of course he won't, Hiori has been mumbling around your cock, sucking on your thick shaft for the last half hour.

You practically growl in frustration, trying not to move your hips or anything else, because it will only prolong this torture. And all because of what? In training, you didn't score a goal from his pass, which made him angry at you. He gave you such a perfect pass, and you missed it.

"Absent-minded boys like you need self-control, don't you think?" Hiori asks, batting his long eyelashes at you, looking straight into your eyes with that innocent look, which makes you almost melt.

His hand moves rhythmically on your cock while his tongue licks your glans from time to time, sometimes gliding over the base and over the bulging veins. He was clearly enjoying tormenting you like that, watching the precum trickle down your head, which he rather licked off, slurping on purpose.

The bed creaks slightly under your weight, clearly not designed for two people, especially if they are muscular in one way or another. It would probably fall apart if you were doing something more active here, but you don't even want to think about it, considering that you have to explain it to the Ego.

"Please, Yo... I'll do anything, please, it hurts," your voice is quiet, a whimper escapes from your throat; Hiyori's eyes rise to you again and a smile blooms on his lips when he notices tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Whatever you say..." The football player mutters, leaning closer and wiping the tears from your eyes before they can roll down your cheeks. "Okay, I'll let you."

Your hips jerk as you are suddenly pierced by the feeling of his mouth around your cock. Not teasing. Not slow. Uninterrupted. And the persistent, rhythmic sucking of your length, which makes you feel like you're already in Heaven.

Of course, it doesn't take long for you to cum. In just a matter of seconds, the knot in your stomach unties and you cum in Hiori's mouth with a guttural moan, clutching his hair in your hands, pushing into his mouth for a couple of seconds, and then exhaling tiredly.

Yo straightens up, licking the droplets of your cum from the corners of his lips, looking at your peaceful face, and then suddenly squeezes your softened cock.

"You said you'd do anything, darling," the blue-eyed man whispers, ecstatically watching your surprised face... If you don't like the deprivation of orgasm, then you will have to accept your fate of overexcitation.

Chigiri Hyoma.

"Mmm, you're enjoying this too much, big guy" Hyoma says, as he stares at your barely present face as you fuck between his thighs.

You wanted to fuck him so damn badly for real, just slide inside those damn tight muscles, but you didn't have too much time until the end of the break, so you had to manage somehow.

"I'm sorry... You have juicy thighs, has anyone ever told you that?" you ask, squeezing his knees a little tighter, trying not to put too much pressure on his right leg, rubbing your cocks together with your movements.

"Yes, thank you. You've said that about eleven times, if I remember correctly. For the last ten minutes," he replies, shrugging his shoulders, looking at how your cock slides between his thighs, over his smaller penis, smearing the precum on your stomach.

His hands instinctively grab onto the sheets, and he moans softly, arching his back. Your cock perfectly covered his own length from below, perfectly rubbed against the head, touching the sensitive bridle. Your "waters" were mixed together.

"We have a training session soon, come on... Otherwise, they'll be looking for us. And they will definitely find us, considering that you don't even hide your moans," Chigiri cheers you on, squeezing his own hips harder, which even started to make a sound from how your cock bumped lightly against his muscular thighs.

"I'm sorry..." you mumble it again, just staring at Hyoma's stomach, where you could see your cock sliding in and out of his thighs.

He snorts, placing his own hands on your palms, which are holding him under his knees, pulling you out of your semi-trance. His red eyes seem to be staring into your very soul, still filled with their usual cocky sparkle, but now clouded with lust.

"What?" your voice is softly heard in the empty bedroom, followed by Chigiri's moan as your cock grazes the bridle of his own again, and he exhales, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Nothing, nothing... You're just drooling," the red-haired man whispers, and you see a drop of water from your chin land on the back of Hyoma's thigh.

... Well, maybe you enjoyed it a little too much. So what? You're a simple man.

You quickly wipe your mouth on your shoulder, pushing Chigiri a little harder into the bed, making his back arch even more and a moan escapes your lips when you feel a familiar feeling in your stomach.

"Huh... Come on, come on, come on. Let's get together, okay? I want you to come, please..." Chigiri whispers, completely unaware of how much more beautiful he is now with red cheeks and a face bathed in pleasure... But what's the difference, huh? Your pace started to become less rhythmic and increasingly rough.

The sound of tremors echoed more and more through the almost empty room, and there it was... White light behind the eyes, two male moaning voices.

Ka-sploosh!

Bachira Meguru.

"This is a fun position, you know?" Bachira chuckles in your ear as he literally hangs on your back, his arms wrapped around your neck and his legs resting on your cock, rubbing it lazily.

"Are you sure you're comfortable? You can always sit forward..." You ask as his chest presses closer to your back and he kisses your cheek long and hard with a smile.

"Thanks for caring! But it's okay, really... Let's give [Your name] the younger a little more attention?"

You moan, throwing your head back on Bachira's shoulder as he starts to move his feet a little more actively. One of his feet runs along the length of your cock, while the other lifts your shaft. How does he even bend his legs like that? Who knows these football players.

His lips slide down your neck, covering it with kisses, occasionally sucking on your skin, making you sigh softly in pleasure. The forward's feet wrap around your entire length, starting to rub it in perfect synchronization.

"Megu... So good, it's weird, but good," you whisper into his neck, inhaling his scent mixed with the light scent of sweat, considering you're both post-workout.

"I'm glad! And he seems to like it too... Or is it her?" Meguru is seriously discussing the gender of your dick... Oh, the things you put up with for this man, honestly.

Your hand slides behind you, supporting his hip, so that it would be at least a little easier for him. Although he doesn't seem to care, because his feet move and hold your cock just perfectly.

His toes deliberately touch your veins along the base or run along the head of your cock, his heels sometimes stroking in circles on your balls, which are getting tighter with each passing second.

Why the hell did you even think to ask him about this? You looked at some new dribble he came up with, and your brain switched off and you asked him. Of course, it's not surprising that he agreed, but fuck...

Who knew that his feet were talented with more than just a soccer ball, right? Your balls were also satisfied, it seems.

"Want to cum? You always can, you know," a sweet voice breaks you out of your thoughts as Meguru presses his heel lightly on your balls, causing you to twitch a little, causing him to smile even wider.

"Of course... You'll make me cum embarrassingly fast..."

"There's nothing embarrassing about it! You make me cum just as fast when...! Mhmhm!"

He lightly punches your chest as you push your head into his neck to shut him up and not embarrass yourself any further.

The feel and sight of his toes on your cock is enough without him saying anything. Your cock twitches in his feet, but he holds it expertly, continuing to rub your cock, as if his orgasm depends on it, not yours. Although it's the same thing to him.

"B-Bachi..." You whine, really embarrassingly fast cumming as your sperm drips down his feet and he kisses your cheek encouragingly.

And then he cries out as you fall backwards, pinning him down and he immediately pushes you aside, looking at you.

"Fallen asleep? He must have enjoyed it too much," Meguru chuckles quietly, looking at your sleeping face, and then covers you with the blanket, kissing your forehead. "Now, shower! Just don't leave marks... Or [Your Name] will scold you, Meguru."

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mangoshorthand · 2 days ago

Text

A Hargreeves Christmas Carol | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader | Ch4

SUMMARY: Luther is the sort of idiot who goes around with a 'Merry Christmas' and a goofy smile on his lips. In your opinion, he should be roasted with his own turkey and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. Who better to teach you the error of your ways than Luther's brother, the man who holds the power of Christmases Past, Present, and Yet to Come in the palm of his hand? Info/Announcement Post

<< Read Chapter Three

Chapter Four (Rated M, 4.3k words)

The Last of the Spirits

As the living room cleared of his family, their Christmas ruined by the argument, Five succeeded in priming the briefcase. He reached out as if to take your upper arm and vanish with you into the previous evening, but you jumped out of his reach.

“No Five. Show me the future! Show me the nuclear armageddon all this is supposed to cause. Because, based on what I just saw, this is your fault, not mine.”

You reached out a finger and jabbed him hard in the chest, withdrawing quickly lest he use the opportunity to grab you.

“You’re going home,” he said, firmly.

“I am not!” you yelled, stamping your foot in frustration, “take me to the future and prove to me that you haven’t been lying for an opportunity to get in my pants!”

Five tossed his head angrily, shaking his fists at his sides in equal frustration and making the briefcase hit him hard in the leg.

“Don’t flatter yourself” he spat, “You think I’d do all this just for that?”

And then, after a slight pause:

“You think I’d try to scare you into fucking me, is that it?

“I don’t know what to believe!” you cried.

Five took two or three angry breaths and chewed the inside of his cheek before he responded.

“I didn’t lie to get into your pants,” he said, sounding bitter, but slightly calmer “And, technically, I didn’t lie to you at all. I never actually said you caused nuclear armageddon. I just let you believe it.”

“WHAT?”

“I said that upsetting Luther could potentially cause nuclear armageddon, which is true: actions like those can, indirectly, lead to apocalyptic events. I never actually said it did in this case, however.”

You seized a bookend off a nearby shelf and threw it at him, hard. He, of course, blinked and reappeared a short distance away, leaving the bookend to smash against the wall.

“I guess I would have deserved that.” Five said, eyeing the bookend as it faded back into being on the bookshelf.

“YOU FUCKING PSYCHOPATH.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I know I shouldn’t -”

“YOU BASTARD!”

“I know,” he replied, a pleading note in his voice now, “but if you just-”

“YOU ARE BARRED. TAKE ME HOME, AND THEN NEVER SHOW YOUR FACE IN MY BAR AGAIN. I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!”

Five held up the hand not holding the briefcase.

“Fine, okay. I get it. But will you let me explain?”

You breathed like an angry bull, your fists clenched so hard it felt like you’d never be able to relax them again, but gave a resentful nod.

“Thank you,” he said, putting the briefcase down on one of the couches and sitting on its arm, facing you.

“I guess it was my fault. I just…I guess I tried to blame you because that was easier than facing the fact I ruined Christmas for Luther… and for everyone else.”

You let out a huff, but his face kept you from an angry expostulation for the time being, and he continued:

“But Sloane was right. You and I are similar. We’re both kind of misanthropic: we push the people who care about us away. It might not lead to an apocalypse, but it’s hardly gonna spell good news for us in the future.”

His expression appealed to yours, and you found it hard to maintain the same level of anger as you saw the honest-to-God anxiety in his face.

“I got a second chance to live my life,” he continued, quietly, “and I’m already fucking it up. You only got one life, and I don’t want to see you fuck it up either.”

You looked back at him, at his beautiful, infuriating, and wholly sincere face. Not for the first time that night, you felt the strange urge to cry.

What was even stranger was the urge to cry on his shoulder.

“I think you’re right,” he said.

“About what?” you asked, frowning.

“We should go see the future. Check in on you and I in, say, ten years time? See how bad it gets?”

The idea, though you’d been fiercely advocating for it only a minute or so earlier, suddenly filled you with a thrill of uncertain horror. Perhaps it was the effect of his speech, but to have such unnatural knowledge, impossible in the normal course of things, seemed now too terrible to comprehend.

Nevertheless, you nodded silently, your legs starting to tremble beneath you.

“Good,” Five said, and held out his hand.

You took it. As he ran his thumb over the back of your hand, the fear became a little more bearable.

“I really am sorry,” he said, seriously, still holding your eyes with his.

“I'll forgive you,” you replied, and squeezed his fingers.

He smiled softly and let your hand go, reaching behind him for the briefcase once more.

“Okay,” he said, balancing it on one knee and playing with the dials, “since it’s still my hair in the briefcase, we may as well visit me first.”

The case clicked and whirred as, with a flourish, he finished his calibration.

“Ready to see how shit my life gets?”

He looked up at you with a grin, took your hand again, and you both vanished into the now-familiar static.

You emerged in another living room, almost as different as it was possible to be from the one you just left. It was dingy, lit by a single bulb uncovered by any sort of shade.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Five murmured, looking around disdainfully.

You had overcome your fear for now, and you looked around the living room with interest.

It was clean at least, but the furnishings left a lot to be desired. There was a single recliner in the center of the carpet facing a TV mounted on the wall in front of you. There was also a squashed looking chesterfield, which seemed as if it was only there for form’s sake; a vague gesture at the idea of having guests.

Other than that, there was a small table beside the recliner and a couple of IKEA-looking bookcases, each filled to the brim with books. Otherwise, the room was empty.

“Well, I’m definitely still single.” Five said, nodding to the sparse decor slightly bitterly, “Figures.”

“Yep, it’s not great,” you confirmed, grimacing.

He glanced down at the briefcase and then around the room again.

“It’s definitely Christmas Eve,” he said, “but I guess I got nobody to put up a tree for. What would be the point?”

There was a voice from the other room and you both fell silent.

“Oh, that’s great. Tell him I say hi.”

It was Five’s voice, and it was followed a half second later by Five himself coming into the room.

“Really?” the Five beside you said, a mixture of disappointment and incredulity in his voice.

The decade-older Five was wearing a pair of pajama pants, no shirt, and was sporting a chevron mustache that didn't suit him. He held a phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, and his well-abused slippers shushed against the carpet.

He was carrying a beer in one hand and what looked like some sort of frozen dinner in the other: constituted beef packaged into steak-esque shapes was sitting on a bed of soggy green beans. On the side, there was a dump of watery potato puree masquerading as mashed.

“This is so depressing,” Five said, cringing at the sight of himself.

“That mustache does make you look like a child molester,” you agreed.

“Thanks."

“Mm-hm,” said the future Five, placing his sad meal on the table and settling himself in the recliner, facing away from you, “well that’s nice to hear. Did the gifts for the kids arrive...Good, good.”

He picked up the beer and took a swig, using the remote to turn on the TV and immediately mute it, flicking through the channels as he spoke on the phone.

“Me? Oh, I’m fine. Just relaxing, you know?”

He paused in his channel surfing on a showing of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, set down the control and watched it as he continued the conversation.

“You know me, I hate Christmas … Yeah, I’m happy as hell here.”

Five winced beside you.

“I’m guessing that’s a lie?” you murmured, looking at your Five sidelong.

“Yup,” Five said, grimly, “the only thing I hate worse than people is being alone.”

Five’s future self lifted his dinner onto his lap and speared a limp green bean onto his fork.

“How’s Luther?” he said, “Life and soul of the party, right? … Sure, sure … good for you.”

He took a few more bites of his meal, ‘uh-huh-ing’ and ‘mm-hm-ing’ occasionally at the voice on the other end of the line.

Well,” he said, an almost undetectable tinge of sadness in his voice now, “maybe next year.”

His tone made it so clear that he didn’t hold out much hope that you didn’t even bother conferring with the Five beside you.

“You guys got your New Years planned? … Nice, nice … do you know what everyone else is doing?”

He stayed quiet as he listened, eating some more and throwing out another mm-hm or uh-huh as the conversation required.

“Huh?” he said, eventually. “I’ll probably hit the bars with a couple of friends. Maybe do the big countdown in Times Square or wherever.”

“I’m lying,” Five said to you, flatly.

“Yeah, yeah,” the Five in the chair continued, “well I’ll - what? … Oh. No, that’s fine. Have fun tomorrow. I gotta go now anyway … alright … yeah, Happy Christmas. Bye Vik.”

When the call ended, he put down his knife and fork for a few moments, sighed, and then lifted his eyes back to the TV and began eating once more.

“This is what I get.” Five said dully, watching himself finish the last third of his meal.

You looked from the Five facing away from you in the chair to the Five beside you, his expression haunted.

“But this is just a future that might be, right?” you said, half asking, half attempting to reassure him, “This isn’t set in stone.”

“If I don’t get my shit together, this is where I’ll be.”

“But you talk like you’re past all hope,” you said, bracingly, “You just have to make a change.”

“Yeah,” he said, though not sounding convinced.

“And even if you get like this, it’s not like it’s too late to make it right! You’re, what, in your thirties here?”

“Over eighty,” Five said.

“Well, whatever,” you continued, “the one thing you got is time. If that Five pulled his finger out of his ass, he could go fix it. It’s not like anyone’s dead.”

As you spoke, the older Five finished his meal and began to channel surf again.

“I was alone for a very long time.” your Five said, “It does something to you.”

You watched him in silence as he continued.

“When my brain was developing the finer points of empathy, I didn’t have anyone around to empathize with. There was nobody real to practice on while my brain was still plastic.”

You looked from him to the Five in the chair, considering him as you listened.

“I feel like…maybe I’m doomed.” Five continued, “This is my mind’s comfort zone; nobody around to force me to be an actual human being. Nobody to challenge me, nobody to compromise for. Nobody to force me to be better by expecting more of me.”

Your attention was suddenly caught by the television.

“Uh, Five?”

“It’s like I’m stuck in this pattern of -”

“Five, seriously.”

This got his attention, and he looked at the TV in horror.

“Oh my god!” he cried, almost dropping the briefcase.

On the screen, there were two women gyrating against one another in barely-there Santa-themed lingerie. From the chair, a rhythmic shuffling sound confirmed the worst.

Horrified, Five grabbed you by the back of your sweater, pulled you out of the room and into a sad looking bedroom.

“I am so, so sorry!” he said, sitting down heavily on the bed and hiding his face in his hands, “I can’t believe you had to see that!”

You tried extremely hard to keep the laughter in, but a little burst bounds despite your best efforts.

“I’m sorry,” you said back to him, looking up at you with a red, mortified face made even worse by your reaction, “I’m really sorry to laugh, I don’t want to embarrass you. It was just so unexpected!”

He hid his head in his hands again and groaned, just as the Five from the living room gave an audible groan of his own.

This was too much, and you fell into helpless giggles.

“I’m - s-so ….sorry!” you managed, struggling to speak against laughter that had you doubled over and leaning against the wall for support, “I’m not… I’m not j-judging you, it’s j-just… really f-f-f-funny!”

You struggled to get ahold of yourself, managing it with difficulty, and Five recovered himself just enough to look up at you, mortified.

“I’m glad one of us is enjoying this at least.”

At this, all your hard work was undone and you bent double again, breathless with laughter.

“T-t-two of us are enjoying it!” you wheezed, gesturing in the direction of Five’s counterpart.

Five’s face crumpled, but then a pained snort forced its way out, and then he was laughing too.

“I can’t believe I masturbate to cable porn.” he said, agony in his voice, “That’s the worst part!”

You sat down beside him on the bed and put your arm around his shoulders, giggling breathlessly, his own reluctant laughter just adding to the hilarity.

In this manner, the laughter gradually faded, and you finished up leaning against one another, still chuckling occasionally.

Turning to him, you looked at his expression. Though he still looked amused, there was equal humiliation and misery in the lines of his face.

“Listen to me,” you said, softly, “you’re not doomed to loneliness and cable porn. You’re not… you’re not broken, maybe just a little bent.”

“Thanks,” he murmured, bowing his head and letting it rest gently against yours.

He let out a little breath, as if he were laying down a heavy burden he knew he would have to pick up again all too soon.

At this close quarters, you could smell that menthol scent again; eucalyptus, perhaps a hint of citrus.

And, rather like the night you wiped salt away from his chin, your body acted without your brain’s involvement.

You pressed your lips to his scarlet temple, and then withdrew.

Five looked surprised, and he lifted his head to look at you, only a few inches apart.

“Thanks,” he said, again, though he mouthed it this time, the word barely articulated.

You looked at each other, caught in this strange, frozen moment. Both of you sat there, paralysed, completely unsure what might happen next.

And then, a particularly drawn out moan from the living room snapped you both back to reality. Apparently the other Five wasn’t far off finishing his visit to the land of cable porn.

“We should go,” Five said, quickly, drawing away from you quickly and fumbling in his breast pocket for the vial containing your hair.

“Sounds good,” you said, brightly, hiding the awkwardness with jollity.

There were a few exquisitely embarrassing moments as Five exchanged the hairs in which his older self was putting on rather the auditory show.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Five chanted as he worked, finally succeeding in slamming the DNA housing back into place and setting the briefcase.

With no preamble, he grabbed your arm and you both thankfully vanished into the ether.

When you rematerialized, it was to find yourself in your bar on a busy night.

“Thank God.” Five said, still bright pink.

He looked briefly down at the briefcase:

“Yep, same night.”

The bar looked relatively unchanged, though the fixtures and fittings had been upgraded at some point in the ten years that lay between you and this permutation of Maggie’s. There was the same half-assed tinsel around the window frame as the sole concession to the fact it was Christmas Eve.

On the corner table, a group of men donning Santa hats were singing an uproarious version of Jingle Bells, their drinks up over their heads and swaying in unison.

There you were, behind the crowded bar as usual, shaking a cocktail with one hand and pulling a pint of lager with the other, working with the same, ruthless energy you always did, face hard and steely in concentration.

Robbie was gone, it seemed, because you didn’t recognise the two employees helping to fend off the rest of the crowd of customers baying for booze and jacked up on Christmas cheer.

“This doesn’t seem fair,” Five said, “You’re doing great, but a few miles away I’m…wanking into a TV dinner like Ebenezer Splooge!”

“I look so much older,” you said, not listening and instead eyeing the first hint of crow’s feet emerging around your eyes.

“You look great,” Five said, impatiently, “This just proves that I’m the problem. You’re perfectly happy, and I'm a mess.”

He watched you almost wistfully, both envying your future and admiring your command, as he always found himself doing whenever he visited Maggie’s. You really were a sight to see behind that bar, and ten years had only added more skill.

As another large table began to join in with the Jingle Bells guys, you said something that Five didn’t quite catch, and he tore his eyes away from the future you to look at the you beside him.

He was surprised to see tears streaming down your face.

“I’m not happy!”

You fell against his chest and cried tears more violent than any you’d cried that night.

Five stood there, bewildered, as your desperate tears began to soak through his shirt.

“Okay, okay,” he said, soothingly, “I’m gonna take you home, alright?”

He fiddled with the briefcase with difficulty, peering over your shoulder to set it where he held it behind your back. With a couple of pushes of buttons, he succeeded, and you were at last standing once more in your darkened living room, the high wind buffering the windows.

Five looked briefly down at the briefcase for confirmation.

“Ten minutes after we left,” he murmured, satisfied, “Quantum suspension engaged, so no doppelganger for me. We’re good to go from here.”

This done, he lowered you both onto the couch, letting the briefcase bump down softly onto the floor.

For a few moments, he simply held you against him, and then he shifted his grip to hold you by the shoulders in order to look into your face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, “Why did seeing that make you cry?”

You shook your head and closed your eyes to weep once more, sobs overtaking you.

“Hey,” Five said, shaking you gently, “given all the shit you've seen about me tonight, you can at least tell me that!”

When this didn’t yield the desired result, he sighed and pulled you back against his shoulder.

“Okay, cry it out for now, but I’m not leaving until you tell me.”

You did cry it out, sniffling against his pure white shirt without a worry for how much you might be ruining it. Right now, he felt warm and safe. His was the only comfort you could imagine taking as waves of revelation broke upon you.

His was the only comfort you could take, you realized.

Many of your bridges were burned, others had simply rotted away from lack of maintenance, and others yet had been severed by the loss of the other side. The end result was the same: you were very short on bridges.

In truth, Luther, Robbie, and Five’s bridges were probably the only three you had left.

Luther had maintained his well, without your help, yet earlier today you’d launched a Molotov cocktail at it, leaving it in danger of burning down if you didn’t take action.

Robbie’s was a thin and sickly little bridge, barely a bridge at all. It could have been stronger, you knew, if only you’d allowed him to build as he wanted.

And Five’s? Right now, it was the only one that could support your weight. It was untested before tonight, yet it was standing firm beneath your feet.

“I’m not happy,” you repeated, when your sobs had subsided enough to allow you to speak, “I haven’t been happy for a long, long time.”

Five’s arms tightened around you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Ever since my grandma died. I’ve felt…”

You broke, took a couple of breaths, and tried a different way of explaining it.

“I looked at myself behind that bar, and I realized I have no idea who that woman is.”

Five nodded slowly, though you could tell he didn’t really understand.

“I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I want. I just know that I don’t want to be her in ten years’ time.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because she’s exactly the same as I am now!”

Five gave another of those slow nods, processing.

“Tell me if I’m way off base,” he said, tentatively, as if he’d just drawn a tenuous red line between points in his mind, “your grandma died, and you took over Maggie’s immediately, right? When you were twenty one?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think that maybe you threw yourself into managing the place to avoid… actually grieving her?”

You made a small, wounded noise, a fresh wave of tears descended, and you nodded against his chest.

He reclined on the couch, taking you with him as he fumbled behind you to pull a blanket over you. It was warm, comforting, and it made you cry harder in relief.

“Maggie’s was never your baby,” he said, softly, “it was hers.”

You nodded.

“Do you even like running it?”

You shook your head, admitting it for the first time with a shuddering outward breath.

“Everything she did for me. I can’t just let that go. That bar was everything to her.”

Five shook his head.

“You think she gave you that bar so that you could chain yourself to it?”

“No.”

“Then sell it.”

“No!”

“Well, then find something in the middle!”

You sniffled and took a few moments to regain some composure.

“I don’t like managing the bar, but I like mixology. When I make cocktails, it reminds me of her and it feels good.”

“Then stick with mixology and ditch the rest,” he said, as if it were obvious.

You shook your head.

“I can’t let her down. If - if I don’t make it a success then… then I’ll be proving she was wrong to trust me with it.”

“Sounds like you got your thinking backwards to me,” Five scoffed.

“What do you mean?”

“You said she always fought for you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re acting like she raised you just to make sure there would be someone around to make Maggie’s a success. Seems more likely that she worked her ass off in the bar to make sure she could leave something behind for you.”

You couldn’t help but see the logic in this, but still, something niggled:

“The bar’s her legacy. I can’t abandon it.”

“You’re her legacy, idiot.”

His logic had done little to dispel your doubts, but this emotional truth smashed through them with the force of a wrecking ball.

You remembered her twinkling at you at fifteen as she taught you to make your first margaria, you remembered her beaming with pride when you first made a cosmo by heart, and you remembered her on her deathbed, pressing her rhinestone necklace into your hand and telling you how proud she was, how successful you’d be.

You remembered her taking her in your arms and making you feel safe while your parents screamed.

It wasn’t the bar, it was you. It was always you.

And you were crying once more: hot, cleansing, healing tears.

“I miss her,” you hiccuped against Five’s chest.

“I know,” he said, stroking your hair.

For the next several minutes, you cried yourself dry. And then you felt better.

“I’m sorry,” you said, slightly hoarsely, “I cried all over your shirt.”

“I don’t mind,” Five said.

In truth, he could have stayed there all night with you in his arms, wet shirt or not. You stopping crying was bittersweet: your grief was over, but it meant that soon he’d have to stir himself, say his goodbyes and probably never touch you like this ever again.

“Can I get you a nightcap?” you asked.

“Sure.”

You extracted yourself from him and looked on the kitchen shelf that stored your private booze.

“Tequila shot?” you asked him, with a mischievous grin.

“Perfect,” he smiled back.

God, the pain your little grin caused him. Like a knife to his stomach.

You returned to the couch with two shots of tequila and held one out to him. He took it with thanks, and you sat down again.

Five raised his glass.

“To Maggie,” he said.

“To you,” you countered, “the man who said he didn’t have enough empathy.”

Five chuckled, and you clinked your glasses together before throwing them back, revelling in the heat as it went down.

“I’d better take my leave,” Five said, when he’d recovered from the shot.

You nodded, and you both stood.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I’d like you to come for Christmas tomorrow. But no pressure. I’m going to do things differently on my end this time, and none of that’s on you.”

“Thank you,” you said.

He bent, picked up the briefcase, and you followed him to your apartment door. There, he turned to look at you and held out his hand once more.

“Happy Holidays,” you said, solemnly, taking his outstretched hand.

Five raised your linked hands to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of yours.

“Happy Holidays,” he replied, and left.

Read Chapter Five >> (Final chapter coming Christmas Eve!) I FEED OFF COMMENTS AND REBLOGS YUM YUM YUM

The Last of the Spirits — The Pointing Finger by John Leech, 1843 in Dickens' A Christmas Carol, first edition (1843).

Dickens' A Christmas Carol full text available here.

Read it! It's a much better than this, and you can see how many lines I stole verbatim or clumsily referenced.

Dividers used in this series by @bernardsbendystraws (garland) and @strangergraphics (lights) My husband (Mr Mango) also wishes it to be known that he came up with Ebenezer Splooge. It was him, it was him, it was all him! Here he is, at the bottom, where he belongs.

Taglist: @nevbrooke-555, @fiannee, @abeeabee6969, @chalametabingbong, @lolawassad, @icantpickanamefromonefandom @thebearmage @kaybreezy3000, @starlitflora (comment to be added or removed)

Megalist

Request info + rules

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See request info + rules for request status and more.

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rosinaparker · 3 days ago

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Can i request Bakugo dating someone who has a quirk similar to his but she has a gentle personality?

𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔

Genre: fluff

Pairing: katsuki x gf!Reader

Warnings: none

N/a: ….we’ll ignore the fact that we were gone for literal months okay?- ANNND because we disappeared u’re getting a short oneshot and headcannons as an apology 💔🙏🏻 the fic is written by rose but took inspiration by serina 🎀-Rose✩

How did you and katsuki get together? How did he even fall for you?

To be honest no one knew how yall ended up together.

He couldn’t explain how it happened. One moment, you were just another classmate—a quiet, almost serene presence amidst the chaos around him. despite the fact that your quirk mirrored his explosive power, The next, you were all he could think about.

It had started during a sparring session. Your explosions, while less aggressive, were precise and controlled, a stark contrast to his fiery chaos. He’d barked insults at you mid-battle, expecting you to flinch or falter. Instead, you’d stood your ground, staring him down with calm confidence. That was the first time he’d felt it—a spark that wasn’t from his quirk but from you.

“Why don’t you hit harder?” he’d growled after the match, frustration bubbling under the surface. “Because I don’t need to,” you’d replied, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Not everything has to be a fight, dude.”

That smile haunted him for weeks. It wasn’t just your quirk that intrigued him—it was the way you balanced him out. Where he was loud and volatile, you were quiet and steady. Yet, beneath that gentleness was a strength he couldn’t help but admire. Slowly, against all odds, you’d wormed your way into his heart.

Of course, dating Bakugo was no walk in the park. He was stubborn, prone to yelling, and had a knack for pushing people away. But with you? It was different. You didn’t back down, but you also didn’t fight fire with fire. Instead, you soothed him, disarmed him with your unwavering patience. It drove him crazy, in the best way possible.

And now, here he was, sitting next to you on the couch in the lounge area, his face red as you casually leaned your head on his shoulder. “Oi,” he grumbled, trying to mask the way his heart was pounding. “What if someone walks over here?” You tilted your head to look up at him, eyes soft but amused. “Why does it matter? Let them see.” “Tch.” He crossed his arms, trying to act nonchalant, but the tips of his ears betrayed him, glowing crimson. “You’re annoying.”

You just laughed, the sound light and soothing, and his scowl softened. No matter how much he grumbled or acted tough, he couldn’t deny it: you were the one person who could calm the storm inside him. And for that, he’d never let you go.

Headcanons:

• How You Got Together: No one really knows how it happened, including the two of you. Some say it was your quirk that drew him in, igniting his competitive streak. Others think it was your ability to stand your ground against his fiery temper. Either way, he found himself gravitating toward you.

•Calmer Around You: Bakugo is noticeably less explosive when you’re around. He might still yell, but his words don’t carry the same bite. You have this unspoken ability to ground him with just a look or a touch.

•Struggles with Expression: He’s terrible at expressing his feelings, but he tries for you. Whether it’s a gruff “you did good” after a tough mission or a spontaneous kiss when no one’s looking, he always finds little ways to show he cares.

•You’re His Anchor: When things get too heated, you’re the one who steps in to de-escalate. You’re also the only one he listens to when he’s being particularly stubborn.

•Secret Softness: Bakugo loves being close to you but gets flustered if anyone sees. Whether it’s you holding his hand or him burying his face in your shoulder after a rough day, he’ll go red as a tomato if someone walks in on the moment.

•Trust and Attachment Issues: His past makes him wary of trusting people, but with you, he’s learning to let his walls down. It takes time, but he eventually becomes almost too comfortable, clinging to you like you’re his lifeline.

•Arguments and Apologies: Fights are inevitable, given his temper and your gentle but firm personality. However, he’s always the first to apologize, albeit awkwardly. It might be a muttered “sorry” or a small, thoughtful gesture, but he hates staying mad at you.

•Competitive Streak: Sharing a similar quirk makes him competitive, constantly trying to prove he’s better. But deep down, he’s proud of your skill and admires the control you have over your power.

• Alone Time: He’s not big on PDA but treasures the moments you’re alone together. Whether it’s you patching him up after training or simply sitting in comfortable silence, those quiet moments mean everything to him.

This was fun to write! I might get back to writing again if the inspiration flows in again. -Rose✩

#mha x reader #mha bakugou #bnha #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #x reader #oneshot #mha oneshot #headcannons #mha headcannon #mha headcannons

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fenmere · 2 days ago

Text

(cn: pregnant mare piss and its draconic analog)

Breakfast at Guenevere's

Sir Tiffany had had a whole Month.

May Day was approaching fast, which meant that mating season would begin in earnest, and Guenevere would start to rut. Which would make training so much harder. But then, the Midsummer Games would happen shortly after that, and they had to be ready by then.

She knew that the other knights and their dragons were experiencing the same struggle. Everything was traditionally timed this way specifically as a test. But that didn't stop her from feeling like she was having it worse.

Guenevere had turned out to be a particularly willful dragon.

Or, perhaps it was that something unusual was happening between the two of them.

It had all started that March morning when Tiffany had slept in and been unable to take her Blessed Mare Piss before breakfast, as usual, and had had to drink it on the way to Guenevere's lair. And the stench of it was on her breath still.

They'd spent the Winter, like everyone else, developing an understanding between the two of them. They had a rudimentary language of gestures and expressions they could use to communicate. But developing that had taken longer between the two of them, so they'd fallen behind with the practical training. Which had contributed to Tiffany's tardiness that day.

It was known that dragons had to be nearly as intelligent as people, if not perhaps more so. It was impossible to learn to speak with each other's vocalizations, however, and while each could learn what the other's sounds meant, it helped to have a gestural basis with which to develop that understanding. Also, a unique set of visual signals between the two of them would always serve them well in the midst of conflict and politics alike. And dragons knew this as well as any knight did.

So, Guenevere's difficulty in agreeing with Sir Tiffany over just what gestures should mean what was an obstinance that was bewildering and frustrating. But they'd hacked it out.

And then, that morning, Guenevere had extended her snout in her usual greeting, a typical lick of the air to confirm Tiffany's identity. And then she'd immediately pulled her head back and tilted it to the side.

For a brief, heart stopping moment, Tiffany was afraid she wasn't recognized. Maybe the Blessed Mare Piss was too strong, and had masked her identity.

It would be bad if she smelt like food to her dragon.

But Guenevere had repeated the ritual two more times to be sure of whatever she was suspecting, and then she'd made her usual "garumphing" noise of acceptance.

However, instead of following Tiffany out to the corral for their daily work, she'd turned and trundled back into her lair.

There had been a crashing noise as the dragon had undoubtedly sorted through her meager hoard of brass and bronze findings. If they did well in the games, they'd both be awarded with an allowance of silver or gold trinkets, which would absolutely delight Guenevere.

Then there'd been a scraping noise, followed by the horrific sound of liquid echoing in a metal container.

And afterward, Guenevere had gingerly pushed a large brass bowl of her own piss out to the front of her lair. An offering to Tiffany.

Did Guenevere even have any sort of clue why Tiffany had to consume alchemically enhanced pregnant mare piss that was blessed by Father David? Did she know something about her own urine that nobody had yet divined? Or was she just being prideful and possessive like a dragon typically was?

They hadn't quite developed the language necessary for Tiffany to tell Guenevere that she'd ask the alchemist if her urine would work for her, let alone explain the reason for it. So a brief and fruitless argument had broken out between the two of them, wherein Tiffany found herself mostly trying to reassure Guenevere that her initial reaction, a frightful grimace, had not been a rejection of the gift.

To resolve the conflict, she'd had to bodily pick up the reeking bowl of piss and walk it to the alchemist's lab and return with a beaming smile before Guenevere would settle.

And that had just been the beginning of it!

Each day after that, Guenevere had had more dragon piss for Tiffany. And rejecting it only resulted in temporary disaster.

And Tiffany knew that no other knight in her company had to deal with this particular conundrum.

She wasn't the first alchemical woman to take a dragon's wings, by any stretch, but her kind was rare enough that she was the only one in her current class.

The problem was that her very identity now was the focus of a draconic game of dominance, and that was bewildering. It was a complication that was hard to navigate.

And Karon the Alchemist was still running their tests on the dragon urine. They wanted a sample of it from Guenevere's rut, unfortunately, and also from her pregnancy, to be sure of their findings. It might be that dragon urine could prove more efficacious than mare piss for Tiffany's purposes, but the precise treatments to make it safe to consume were yet unknown. And in the mean time, Guenevere seemed to think she already had a new duty to uphold.

And even so, Tiffany wasn't sure she should give Guenevere the satisfaction of actually consuming her piss. Even if it turned out to have truly magical properties, it would forever define their relationship in ways the crown might not approve of.

Obviously, if this particular conundrum had happened before, Karon would already know what they currently sought to understand. And there'd be guidance on the matter. But, apparently, the other alchemical women who'd made knighthood had successfully kept their secrets from their dragons.

So, to compensate and push their relationship toward the proscribed balance, Tiffany had had to devise a suitable counterpoint.

And that had resulted in a series of ripostes between the two of them. A game of oneupsmanship that had quickly escalated and dominated their attention when they should have been focusing on maneuvers and how to coordinate their actions.

And it had been ridiculous. Because all the other knights and their dragons were exercising their power games through a raw force of wills. The usual subtle negotiation between issuing a command and the eventuality of agreement to follow it. And the play between food, offerings to the hoard, attending to knightly duties, and learning to trust each other's body language.

Tiffany could watch their antics on the training grounds and in the corral, and see the interplay of social sparing between dragon and knight and how it affected their performance and ability to pass the tests.

And those same trials continued between herself and Guenevere as well, but now there was this whole layer of unsolicited gift giving on top of it.

For, Tiffany had decided to meet the offerings of dragon piss with a saddle and bridle of the most exquisite craftsmanship and materials. Something above and beyond what was typical for her station.

It had taken an excessive portion of her own coffers to acquire it. And a couple days to adjust and adapt it to Guenevere's stature.

To her fellow knights and her liege, the gesture was one of dedication to her duties as dragon knight. With her explanation of her predicament, they all understood the need for it, and had tentatively approved. But the result had not been in anybody's anticipation.

At first, Guenevere had demonstrated the typical bolstered pride of a dragon receiving a fine gift for her hoard, strutting and preening herself for a whole day afterward. And the saddle and bridle were placed in a vestibule of honor within her lair. She was clearly very happy with the new arrangement.

But then, the next day, Tiffany had opened the door of her quarters to find the head of a basilisk had been carefully placed on her stoop during the night.

And it had all gone downhill from there.

And now, thirty days later, she found herself in a new ritual of serving a breakfast feast for herself and her dragon every morning at the mouth of Guenevere's lair.

And for the strength and security of the kingdom, the bond between a knight and their dragon was worth this effort and expense. There was no explicit objection, and support had been offered. But, as a result they were now the center of all gossip, and it was still embarrassing.

So, on this morning, Tiffany was on edge.

It had been her turn yesterday to give Guenevere a gift, trying to assert her dominance through generosity and extravagance. And she'd given her most expensive offering yet, a three by four yard portrait of Guenevere rendered in oil on canvas by a renowned artisan and his assistants. Normally, it would have taken a year or so to complete such a thing, but with the aid of a divining sphere, the work of extra hands, and sealed notes of writ promising an extravagant allowance for years to come, the artisan had been able to create it in record time without Guenevere learning of the effort. She hadn't needed to pose for the painting, since her sleeping visage could be discerned through the sphere.

Tiffany suspected that the implications of that were not lost on her dragon. Guenevere was smart enough to understand what it meant that her knight could secretly capture her likeness while she was unconscious. But she also couldn't turn the gift down, nor deny its importance and worth, because it was so obviously opulent.

It was the most that Tiffany could muster for Guenevere. There was nothing else she could devise to assert her right to be Guenevere's knight. Nothing that could surpass it, at least. She was at the end of her rope, and if Guenevere could somehow surpass the gesture with her own gift this morning, it would forever be the shadow that dominated their covenant as dragon and knight.

So she sat down at the table that had been erected before Guenevere's lair, as servants brought out a quartered hog for the dragon and an array of breads, cheeses, and meats for Tiffany. And she tried to wash down her rising bile with generous sips of wine.

Her own anxiety was palpable.

Would Guenevere finally relent, and simply gift herself to Tiffany? Is that how this worked? Is that how this would end?

Or would she have, somehow in the night, found a way to astound everyone with a gift that was simply beyond the pale.

It was hard to imagine what she could possible have found or devised to even match the effort of that painting.

But she was a dragon.

Eventually, the gorgeous beast emerged from the darkness of her home, scales glistening in the sun after her recent shed.

Instead of licking the air repeatedly in anticipation of her daily meal, as she'd done every day since the breakfasts had begun, she kept her mouth carefully shut. Which was strange.

And, when she performed her greeting over the table of food, extending her neck to bring the tip of her snout within a foot of Tiffany's face, she did not taste the air even then.

Instead, she lowered her gaze to Tiffany's collar bone and waited.

And then she rumbled and grunted, bobbing her head briefly, to say, "I have something for you."

Oh, no.

Tiffany raised an eyebrow and leaned over to pretend to look around Guenevere's bulk, her way of asking, "Where is it?"

Guenevere gentle nudged her. The tip of her snout was as big as Tiffany's entire torso, so as gentle as it was for whatever Guenevere did, she nearly fell over backward in her chair.

This meant, "I have it right here, silly."

Tiffany sighed.

She knew now that she had lost the game. She had nothing left for her dragon, besides herself. And it would be Guenevere who would make the calls during the Midsummer Games, and any tests, trials, and battles they might face together in the future.

Whatever the gift was, the kingdom would only benefit from it, but she would always be the tale of caution to others. To be the master of your dragon, do not engage in a match of gift giving like Sir Tiffany did, lest you fail.

With shaking trepidation, she held out her hands below Guenevere's snout, palms up to receive her gift.

She was afraid of its weight. She had no idea what it could be, and quite a large thing could be hidden within her dragon's maw, now covered in saliva. And so she braced herself against the unpleasant sensation of whatever it might be, and its potential physical heft.

And for Guenevere's part, she opened her mouth merely a crack to extend her forked tongue.

And there, on the left tip of it, encircling it as if it was a finger, was a filigreed gold ring with a single white diamond in it.

Which she then let fall into Tiffany's hands.

And then she reared back and looked down at her hog, chittering contentedly to herself before beginning her meal.

Oh.

human trying to train a dragon into a mount x dragon trying to train a human into a pet

and neither one knows the other one is trying to train them

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hannie-roses · 1 day ago

Note

i have a request 🥺! could you make leeknow x reader. it’s about leeknow having a thing for y/n yk and y/n LIKES SEUNGMIN so basically leeknow is doing everything in his power to make y/n like him but it’s tough since seungmin is y/n’s best friend and they have a shared history together. and leeknow be getting so jealous

Love’s crazy battle

Starring: leeknow, seungmin and y/n fab reader¡

Sypnosis: Y/N’s unbreakable bond with Seungmin feels like an impossible wall for Lee Know, who’s willing to risk everything for her love. He is consumed by jealousy but driven by hope, he fights to prove he’s more than second place. But seungmin gets jealous of the time she’s spending with him.Will Y/N see the love standing right in front of her, or will history win?

Warnings: slow burn, subtle smut

Word count:44.6k

Lee Know had always been a bit of a loner, reserved in his thoughts, but when it came to Y/N, everything changed. He could hardly think straight when she was around. His feelings for her had developed over timesubtle at first, a passing thought here or there, and then the realization that he was falling for her. Slowly, quietly, in a way that wasn’t so easy to ignore anymore.

But Y/N had her own thing going on. She wasn’t oblivious to him, not at all. Yet, she was always around Seungmin, always laughing at his jokes, always turning to him for everything, and Lee Know couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy each time he saw the two of them together. Seungmin was Y/N’s best friend, and their bond was undeniable.

Lee Know didn’t even know when it had happened, but the attraction had started to fester. Y/N had been there when he needed someone, but it wasn’t until recently that the idea of her not being in his life became unbearable.

The way she smiled, the way her eyes lit up when Seungmin said something funny it gnawed at him. I want that. I want her to look at me like that, he thought, staring at her from across the room. She was sitting on the couch, reading, while Seungmin was beside her, his voice animated as he spoke.

Why does it always have to be Seungmin? Lee Know thought bitterly. Why can’t it be me?

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even realize Hyunjin was sitting beside him until his friend spoke.

“You’re staring again, Minho.”

Lee Know snapped out of it, his gaze immediately shifting to Hyunjin. He had been so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice how obvious he was being.

“Uh, sorry,” Lee Know muttered, trying to hide the blush creeping up his neck.

Hyunjin smirked, nudging him lightly. “It’s not like you to get so worked up over a girl.”

Lee Know glared at him, but there was a hint of frustration in his voice. “It’s not just any girl, Hyunjin. It’s Y/N.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Ah, that explains it. But why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

Lee Know sighed. “She’s always with Seungmin. I don’t stand a chance.”

Hyunjin shook his head, his voice turning serious. “Minho, you won’t know until you try. She might feel the same way.”

Lee Know didn’t respond right away. The thought of confronting Y/N, of putting his feelings out there and risking their friendship, terrified him. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t keep hiding his emotions. Not when his heart ached every time he saw her smile at Seungmin.

Days passed, and Lee Know found himself drawn to Y/N more and more. The way she laughed, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke, it was like she had a gravity all her own, pulling him closer despite the circumstances. It was almost as if he couldn’t stop himself anymore, and his heart betrayed him every time he caught himself staring.

One day, the three of them Y/N, Seungmin, and Lee Know were having lunch in the park. Seungmin and Y/N were discussing something that seemed trivial, but it was enough to make Lee Know seethe with jealousy. They were so natural together, so comfortable.

Why does she turn to him so easily? Lee Know thought, pushing his food around on his plate. Does she even see me?

As if sensing the growing tension in the air, Y/N turned to Lee Know, her expression softening. “Minho, you’re awfully quiet today. What’s on your mind?”

Lee Know’s heart skipped a beat. She was looking at him—looking directly at him, her eyes full of concern.

“Nothing,” Lee Know replied quickly, forcing a smile. “Just… tired.”

Seungmin, of course, didn’t miss the subtle tension. “Are you sure? You’ve been acting weird lately. You usually joke around more.”

Lee Know’s gaze flicked to Seungmin, and for the briefest moment, he felt an overwhelming surge of jealousy. Why does it always come so easily for him?

But he pushed it down, shaking his head. “I’m fine,” he said with a tight smile.

Y/N, however, didn’t buy it. “You’re sure?” she asked again, this time her voice softer.

Why is she being so gentle with me? Lee Know thought. Maybe… maybe there’s more to this than I realize.

Seungmin seemed oblivious to the moment. “Anyway, did you hear about that new cafe opening downtown? Y/N and I should go check it out sometime, maybe this weekend.”

Lee Know felt the pit of his stomach drop. Of course she would go with him, he thought bitterly, although he didn’t show it on the outside.

Y/N glanced at him, catching the edge of his expression. “What do you think, Minho? Would you want to come?”

Lee Know blinked, caught off guard by her sudden question. She’s asking me? It didn’t make sense. Why would she want me to go?

“I… I guess,” Lee Know said, his voice faltering slightly. “Sure. I could come.”

Y/N smiled, a genuine smile that made his heart race. “Great! It’ll be fun.”

Over the next few days, Lee Know found himself spending more and more time with Y/N. It started off casually, with her inviting him along on errands or to grab a coffee, but soon, the interactions became more personal. They shared quiet moments in the library, exchanging thoughts on their coursework. He found himself confiding in her more than he ever had before.

She’s different with me now, Lee Know thought one evening as they sat on a park bench, sharing stories about their childhoods. I never realized how easy it could be to talk to her.

Y/N, unaware of the growing connection between them, laughed lightly as she told him a funny story about Seungmin.

“I swear, sometimes I think Seungmin is more dramatic than I am,” Y/N said, chuckling. “He can’t take a joke to save his life.”

Lee Know smiled, but there was a flicker of something darker behind his eyes. I don’t want to hear about Seungmin anymore. I want to talk about us. But I can’t say that.

“I’m sure he’s just being dramatic,” Lee Know said, his voice lighter than he felt. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, so he changed the subject. “You seem to get along with him really well.”

Y/N’s eyes softened as she looked at him. “We’ve known each other for years. We’re like family.”

Lee Know felt his chest tighten at her words. Like family. And what am I?

But he didn’t say it out loud. Instead, he pushed the thought away, focusing on the warmth of her presence beside him. It felt nice. It felt right.

But as the days passed, he couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that Seungmin was still in the picture—still the one Y/N would turn to. I can’t keep letting this happen. I have to make my move.

It wasn’t long before Seungmin began to notice the shift. Lee Know and Y/N were spending more time together, and it was starting to get under his skin. He was Y/N’s best friend, her confidant. They had history, a bond that couldn’t be broken. Or so he thought.

One afternoon, after a particularly long day of studying, Seungmin confronted Lee Know. They were walking down the street, heading to a nearby cafe when Seungmin finally spoke up.

“Minho, we need to talk.”

Lee Know raised an eyebrow, his nerves already on edge. “About what?”

Seungmin’s eyes narrowed, his voice low. “About Y/N.”

Lee Know’s heart skipped a beat. Here it comes.

“Y/N’s been spending a lot of time with you lately,” Seungmin continued, his tone defensive. “And I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

Lee Know’s jaw clenched. “I’m not trying to steal her from you, Seungmin,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “She’s her own person. I can’t control who she spends time with.”

Seungmin’s expression darkened. “You’ve always been a little too interested in her, Minho. I’m starting to think there’s more to this than you’re letting on.”

Lee Know’s patience was wearing thin. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Seungmin took a step closer, his tone growing more intense. “I see the way you look at her. You’re falling for her, aren’t you?”

Lee Know froze, his heart pounding in his chest. How does he know?

“I—” Lee Know began, but he didn’t know what to say.

Seungmin’s eyes softened slightly, but there was still a sharp edge to his words. “You better figure it out, Minho. I don’t want to lose her to you.”

It all came to a head one evening when Lee Know was hanging out with Y/N at a small café. They were sipping coffee, talking about everything and nothing at all, when Seungmin suddenly barged in, his expression dark.

“You’re spending a lot of time with him, huh?” Seungmin said, his voice laced with tension. He didn’t even greet Y/N first, his eyes locked on Lee Know.

Y/N blinked in surprise, but Lee Know wasn’t phased. “We’re just hanging out,” he said evenly, trying to keep his cool.

Seungmin’s gaze flickered to Y/N, who was looking between the two of them, clearly sensing the change in the atmosphere. “I don’t know if I like this, Minho,” Seungmin said, his voice low but sharp. “You’ve been acting different around her lately.”

Lee Know’s temper flared, but he forced himself to stay calm. “What’s your problem, Seungmin?”

Y/N’s eyes darted between them. “what’s happening right now?”

But before either of them could respond, Seungmin raised his voice. “You’re acting like you’re her only friend now, Minho. I don’t like it.”

Lee Know stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. “I’m not trying to replace you, Seungmin. I’m just… trying to be there for her.”

The tension in the air was palpable, and Y/N looked uncomfortable, clearly caught in the middle of their argument.

Seungmin clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “It’s not about replacing me, it’s about the way you’ve been acting. You can’t just swoop in and expect things to change just because you decided to—”

“I didn’t decide anything,” Lee Know interrupted, his voice rising. “I’m not doing anything wrong, okay? I’m just trying to be her friend, the same as you.”

Y/N stood up now, stepping between them, her eyes wide with alarm. “Stop! Both of you, stop!” Her voice was loud, but there was panic in it, like she was afraid things might actually get out of hand.

Seungmin looked at her for a moment, his expression softening. “I’m just… trying to make sure he knows his place,” he muttered under his breath.

Lee Know shot Seungmin a glare, and for a split second, their eyes locked, both of them silent, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the air. Neither one of them was willing to back down.

“I’m not trying to take anyone’s place,” Lee Know said, voice tight, but now quieter. “I’m just… here, like you are. What’s the problem with that?”

Y/N’s gaze flitted between them, her heart racing. She wanted to scream at both of them to stop acting like children, but the tension was so thick it was hard to breathe.

“I just want things to stay the way they were,” Seungmin said, his tone softer now, almost pleading. “I don’t want things to get… complicated.”

Lee Know turned to Y/N, his gaze softening just a little as he tried to gauge her reaction. She was still standing there, uncertain, caught in the middle of a battle she hadn’t signed up for. She looks so lost, Lee Know thought, his heart aching with the knowledge that he was contributing to the mess.

“I don’t want things to change either,” Lee Know said, his voice steady but not without frustration. “But I’m not going to back off just because you’re uncomfortable with it, Seungmin.”

Seungmin looked at him, then back at Y/N. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again, clenching his jaw. Without another word, he turned and stormed out of the café, leaving a stunned silence behind him.

Lee Know stayed where he was, his chest tight. He hadn’t won, but the argument wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Y/N took a shaky breath and finally spoke, her voice quiet. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Lee Know didn’t know what to say either. His mind was racing, but he couldn’t find the words. Instead, he just stood there, watching her as she struggled with everything between them.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked, his voice soft, almost vulnerable.

She met his gaze, her eyes searching his face for something, anything. “I… I think I just need some time to think.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, and for the first time, Lee Know truly realized how complicated things had become. He didn’t want to lose her, but at this rate, he wasn’t sure what would happen next.

Y/N had left the café with a soft promise to see them later, but the air was thick with unsaid words and heavy thoughts. As soon as the door closed behind her, the atmosphere between Lee Know and Seungmin changed. What had been simmering beneath the surface now exploded in full force.

Lee Know’s fingers clenched around his coffee cup, the hot liquid now forgotten. He watched as Seungmin sat back in his chair, his arms crossed, his expression stormy.

Seungmin’s voice broke the silence first. “You’ve been acting like you’ve got some claim on her, Minho. You think she needs you more than me?”

Lee Know didn’t flinch. “I’m not the one making things awkward,” he said coolly, his voice dangerously calm. “I’ve just been here, trying to be her friend. You’re the one acting like I’m stealing something from you.”

Seungmin’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and something deeper—something darker. “Don’t even act like you don’t know what’s going on, Minho. You’re not fooling anyone. You’ve been sniffing around her for weeks, and it’s pathetic. She’s my best friend. You don’t get to just waltz in and play the hero.”

Lee Know’s fists tightened. He knew this was coming. Seungmin had been avoiding the truth for too long. But now, there was no denying it—Seungmin was jealous, and not just a little.

“I’m not trying to ‘play the hero,’ Seungmin,” Lee Know snapped, his voice low but seething. “I don’t need to play games with her. But it’s clear you’ve been hiding behind this act, pretending like everything’s fine. You’re scared of what might happen if she knows how you really feel.”

Seungmin stood up abruptly, the table creaking under the sudden movement. “You have no right to say anything about how I feel! You don’t get to dictate what happens between us, Minho. You need to stay the hell away from her.”

Lee Know’s eyes hardened, the challenge in Seungmin’s words hitting him like a physical blow. “What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?” His voice dropped to a low, menacing tone. “You want me to just back off and pretend like nothing’s happening? That we’re all just friends here? Because that’s not how it works.”

Seungmin sneered. “You don’t know anything about how this works. You’re just some guy trying to get into her head. You don’t even care about her. You just want to prove you’re better than me.”

Lee Know leaned in, his chest tightening as his frustration began to spill over. “I care about her more than you’ve ever made her feel, Seungmin. So don’t you dare try to act like you’ve got some kind of claim on her. I’m not backing down. If anything, you’re the one who’s been messing things up.”

Seungmin’s face twisted in fury, his hands trembling with rage. “You think you’re better than me? You think she’ll just drop everything and choose you over me? She’s not going to want some guy who only showed up when it was convenient. I’ve been here for her since the beginning, Minho.”

Lee Know stood up, his breath quickening as he took a step toward Seungmin. “You don’t know what she needs, Seungmin. You’re so busy pretending everything’s fine that you can’t see she’s struggling. You think she wants someone who won’t even admit their feelings?”

“Shut up!” Seungmin shouted, his voice breaking through the tension like a thunderclap. “You don’t know anything about her! You’re not better than me. You’re just a distraction.”

Lee Know’s eyes flashed with fury, his heart pounding in his chest. “A distraction? You think I’m a distraction to her? You think she’s going to look at you and think you’re the one who truly understands her?”

Seungmin’s lips curled into a bitter grin. “At least I didn’t wait until she was falling apart to finally decide I’m interested. You only care about her now because you see a chance to win. You’re just a stupid fucking low life idiot and that’s why nobody likes with you.”

That was it. The words hit Lee Know like a punch to the gut. His vision blurred with anger. He was done. The quiet rage that had been simmering inside him finally boiled over.

Without thinking, Lee Know’s fist shot out, slamming into Seungmin’s face with a sickening thud. The force of the punch sent Seungmin crashing backward into the table, knocking it over with a loud bang. Coffee spilled everywhere, the sharp smell of spilled liquid filling the air.

For a moment, the café was silent. Lee Know stood there, breathing heavily, his knuckles throbbing from the impact. Seungmin’s face was flushed with pain, but his eyes burned with something darker. Something more dangerous.

“You want to keep talking?” Lee Know’s voice was raw, almost unrecognizable with the anger that bubbled up from deep within. “Keep running your mouth. I’m done with this.”

Seungmin stood up slowly, wiping the blood from his lip. His eyes locked with Lee Know’s, and for the first time, Lee Know could see the full force of Seungmin’s jealousy and frustration. Seungmin had always been the calm one, the rational one, but now he was wild, unraveling at the seams.

“You think that’ll solve everything?” Seungmin hissed. “You think throwing a punch is going to make her choose you? You’re wrong, Minho. You’re just as selfish as I am. We’re both just a couple of idiots fighting over the same girl.”

Lee Know didn’t back down. “Maybe, but I’m not going to let you push me around anymore.”

The two of them were standing face to face now, chest to chest, fists clenched and breath coming fast. Neither one of them was willing to back off.

Seungmin’s eyes flared with rage as he lunged at Lee Know, throwing a wild punch that collided with Lee Know’s jaw. The force of the hit sent him staggering back, but he didn’t fall. Instead, he swung his own fist at Seungmin’s face, landing a blow to his cheek.

The fight was messy, chaotic. Every punch, every shove was fueled by jealousy, by frustration, by the raw emotion they both couldn’t control. Both of them had wanted Y/N, and neither of them was willing to admit it openly. But now, the weight of their feelings had led them to this a brutal, ugly fight neither of them had ever imagined.

Hyunjin burst through the door at that moment, eyes wide with shock as he rushed toward them, trying to break the fight up. “Enough!” he shouted, grabbing both of them by the shoulders and pulling them apart with surprising strength.

Lee Know stood there, chest heaving, his blood pounding in his ears. Seungmin wiped the blood from his lip, his eyes filled with something unreadable. Hyunjin didn’t let go of them immediately, his grip firm as he looked between the two.

“You both need to calm down,” Hyunjin said, his voice more controlled than it had been just a moment ago. “This… this isn’t helping anyone.”

Lee Know didn’t respond. His mind was racing, his emotions a mess. The fight had escalated so quickly, but now that it was over, it felt like a hollow victory. What had it solved? Nothing. It hadn’t solved anything. He wanted to be the one Y/N turned to, but now… now he wasn’t sure how to fix things.

The fight had been messy. Lee Know had left the café first, walking out without another word to anyone. He had stormed off, his mind racing with everything that had happened. But now, the dust had settled—sort of.

Seungmin, on the other hand, wasn’t in a much better place. He had lingered for a while, still processing everything that had just happened. It was hard not to feel the burn of that fight, the sting of Lee Know’s words, the punch that had landed with a resounding smack against his cheek. But what really gnawed at him wasn’t the physical pain; it was the fact that Y/N hadn’t been there to witness it.

He didn’t want to admit it, but the truth stung.

The truth was, Y/N was starting to see Lee Know differently. He could see it in the way she looked at him when he was around. The tension in the air when the three of them were together was almost unbearable, and Seungmin hated it. He hated how Lee Know seemed to be inching closer to Y/N every day.

But the next day was different. Y/N had agreed to hang out with him. It wasn’t just another group gathering; it was just the two of them, the way things used to be. Seungmin had invited her over to his house, and she’d agreed without hesitation. Maybe, just maybe, he could regain the comfort he had with her before all of this tension had begun. Before everything had changed.

The air in Seungmin’s apartment felt heavier than usual as Y/N stepped inside. She always loved coming here—his space felt comfortable, familiar, like home. But today, it was different. Everything felt strange, as if something was shifting beneath the surface.

Seungmin greeted her with a casual smile, but his eyes held something deeper. There was a tension there, a wariness that Y/N couldn’t quite place. She couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with the fight she’d witnessed between him and Lee Know just a few days ago. Things had changed between them ever since. And though she tried to ignore it, a part of her couldn’t help but feel the shift feel it in the way they both looked at her, in the moments of silence that stretched too long.

“So, what do you want to do today?” Seungmin asked, trying to sound casual. He motioned toward the couch. “We could watch a movie or just hang out… Whatever you feel like.”

Y/N nodded, stepping further into the room. She felt drawn to the couch, sinking into its softness. But as she did, her eyes fell on Seungmin’s arm. Her gaze lingered for a moment, and she froze. There was a bruise on his forearm, just above his sleeve.

“Seungmin… what happened?” she asked, her voice soft, but sharp with concern. She stood up slightly, her eyes locked on the purple-blue mark.

He paused, looking down at the bruise as if he had just remembered it was there. A faint chuckle escaped his lips, though it was humorless. “It’s nothing,” he said, brushing it off. “I… got into a bit of a scuffle with Lee Know. Nothing serious.”

Y/N’s heart sank. She had hoped it wasn’t related to the fight, but now that she saw the bruise, the tension between them felt even more palpable. She sat back down, her thoughts racing.

A part of her wanted to ask more, wanted to know the truth about what had happened, but another part of her knew it wouldn’t do any good. The distance between Seungmin and Lee Know was growing, and there was nothing she could do to fix it. It was like they were both pulling in different directions, and she was caught in the middle.

“I didn’t know it had gotten that bad,” Y/N finally said, her voice quieter now. She couldn’t help but look at the bruise again.

Seungmin shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s nothing to worry about,” he repeated. “I’m fine. You don’t need to stress about it.”

But Y/N wasn’t so sure. She studied him, her eyes tracing the curve of his jaw, the way his hand tightened around the edge of the couch. There was more beneath the surface, and she could feel it in her bones.

“Okay,” she said softly, though the worry in her chest didn’t go away. She changed the subject, trying to push the awkwardness aside. “What have you been up to lately?”

Seungmin leaned back, trying to relax, but Y/N could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers drummed against the armrest.

“Same old stuff,” he replied, but his voice was distracted. “School, work, and dealing with… everything else.” His eyes flicked toward her, searching for something in her expression. “I haven’t had much time to… think about anything else.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at his words. The way he said it made her wonder—was he talking about Lee Know? Or was he talking about something else entirely?

She tried to ignore the way her stomach fluttered at the thought.

They sat in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words. Y/N shifted on the couch, her body feeling warmer as the space between them seemed to shrink.

“So,” Y/N began, trying to lighten the mood, “What do you want to do today? Really, I’m good with anything.”

Seungmin glanced at her, his lips twitching into a small smile. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “How about we just… hang out? No pressure.”

Y/N smiled, though her mind was still caught on the bruise. It was hard to focus on anything else when she could still feel the weight of it in the air. She shifted again, glancing down at her phone, but when she looked up, she found Seungmin watching her—his eyes locked on hers with an intensity that she wasn’t quite used to.

It was like everything in the room slowed for a moment. The sound of her own breath filled her ears, and for a brief second, she wondered if she could hear his heart beating too. They were sitting so close now, the space between them feeling like nothing at all.

Y/N’s pulse quickened as she noticed how his eyes dropped to her lips for just a fraction of a second before meeting her gaze again. She held her breath, unsure of what to do, her mind swirling with thoughts she couldn’t quite put into words.

Seungmin leaned forward slightly, just enough for Y/N to feel the heat from his body. His breath brushed against her cheek, sending a shiver down her spine. Her heart thudded in her chest, the anticipation thick in the air.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and almost a whisper. “I…”

Before he could finish, Y/N’s eyes flickered to his lips again, and that was all the invitation Seungmin needed.

Without thinking, he closed the distance between them. His lips brushed against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. It was light, almost hesitant, but the moment their lips met, it felt like the world had shifted.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her hand reaching up to rest against his chest. Her heart pounded in her chest as Seungmin deepened the kiss, his hands gently cupping her face. Everything else faded away—the fight, the tension, the complicated emotions swirling around them.

It was just them now.

Y/N pulled away first, her face flushed with heat, her breath shaky. She stared at Seungmin, her heart still racing as the weight of what had just happened sank in.

“Seungmin,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as she tried to steady herself. “What are we doing?”

His forehead rested against hers, his hands still gently holding her face. His breath was heavy, matching her own, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the thumping of their hearts, beating in sync.

“I don’t know,” Seungmin whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. “But I can’t stop… I don’t want to stop.”

Y/N felt the tension between them pull tighter, the air around them crackling with intensity. There was no going back now, but as much as she wanted to give in, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to change. Something that might tear them apart.

But in that moment, with his lips hovering just inches from hers, she couldn’t bring herself to care about anything else.

The following day, the weight of everything that had happened the day before lingered heavily on Y/N’s mind. The kiss with Seungmin the one that had caught her completely off guardwas still on her lips, like a taste she couldn’t quite shake off. But today, she needed to focus. She wasn’t about to let one moment complicate things more than it already had. She couldn’t.

But then, there was Lee Know.

She tried not to notice the way his eyes followed her every move, the subtle way he lingered at the edges of her vision. He was always around. It made her uncomfortable and yet… something about it tugged at her in a way she couldn’t fully understand.

Seungmin, on the other hand, had been quieter today. Y/N caught him stealing glances at her in between classes, but the energy between them felt different unsure, like the weight of their unspoken feelings hung between them, thick and heavy. She liked him. She definitely did. But something inside her was still unsure. She couldn’t help but feel like there was something she was missing.

It wasn’t just about Seungmin. Lee Know had been in the background, too, his presence so constant it was impossible to ignore. But there was nothing she could do about that, right? He had always been a little mysterious, a little aloof. And she didn’t need more complication in her life right now.

The school day dragged on, the hours stretching into what felt like an eternity. As the final bell rang, Y/N grabbed her bag and headed for the doors, ready to meet Seungmin outside. She had promised him they’d hang out. Just the two of them.

But as she walked through the crowded hallway, she couldn’t help but notice that all the noise seemed to fade away, and all she could hear was the rhythmic beat of her heart in her chest. The feeling of someone watching her sent a shiver down her spine. She turned slightly, her heart skipping a beat.

There he was.

Lee Know was standing at the end of the hallway, leaning casually against the lockers, his eyes locked onto hers. His usual teasing smirk was absent, replaced by a steady, unreadable gaze. Y/N felt her pulse quicken despite herself. She told herself it was nothing, that it was just Lee Know being his usual self.

But there was something different today.

Before she could look away, Lee Know pushed himself off the lockers and started walking toward her. He moved with a purposeful calm, and each step seemed to slow down the world around them.

Y/N’s hand tightened around the strap of her bag. She was supposed to be meeting Seungmin—why did Lee Know always have a way of pulling her in? She could feel the tension building in the pit of her stomach as he got closer.

She tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the fact that she was meeting Seungmin, but Lee Know’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“Y/N,” his voice was low and smooth, and it stopped her in her tracks.

She turned toward him, trying to keep her expression neutral. “Lee Know, what’s up?”

He stopped right in front of her, so close she could feel the warmth radiating off his body. His eyes were intense, fixed firmly on her, but his expression remained unreadable. There was a flicker of something there, something deeper than just his usual teasing.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” His voice was quieter now, more serious than she’d ever heard it.

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, she felt the familiar hand on her shoulder. Seungmin’s face appeared in her line of sight, confusion written all over it.

“Y/N, are you ready to go?” Seungmin asked, his gaze flickering between her and Lee Know.

Y/N hesitated, her mind racing. She wanted to spend time with Seungmin, but the way Lee Know was looking at her now… it was different. She could feel the unspoken challenge in the air. She could feel the pull between them, an almost magnetic force.

Lee Know didn’t look at Seungmin. He didn’t acknowledge him at all. His eyes stayed focused on Y/N, unwavering.

“You know I was just about to head out with Seungmin, right?” Y/N tried to keep her tone light, even though she could feel her heart beating faster.

“I know,” Lee Know replied, his voice oddly calm. “But this won’t take long. I just need a minute with you.”

Y/N glanced at Seungmin, but his face was hard to read, his expression tight. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, his attention focused solely on Lee Know.

“Seungmin, it’s okay,” Y/N said softly, trying to smooth over the tension. “I’ll be right back.”

Seungmin nodded, but his jaw was clenched, his eyes still wary as Y/N was gently led away by Lee Know down the hallway.

Y/N felt a sudden chill run down her spine as Lee Know guided her toward an empty classroom. The air felt heavier, charged with something that made her stomach tighten. Her mind racedwhat was he going to say? Why was he acting like this?

Lee Know opened the door, and Y/N stepped inside before him. She didn’t have a chance to ask what was going on before the door shut behind them with a soft click. She turned, about to speak, but the words stuck in her throat when she saw the way Lee Know was looking at her. His eyes were darker now, his posture rigid, and there was no trace of the usual playful demeanor. He was all business now.

“Lee Know, what’s going on?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart pounding.

He didn’t answer right away, only closed the space between them with deliberate steps. His gaze never left her face, and it made her feel exposed, like he could see right through her. The tension in the room was thick, suffocating.

“Why do you always let him have you?” Lee Know’s voice was low, almost dangerous, as he spoke. There was an edge to it, a frustration that had been building for too long.

Y/N blinked, not sure how to respond. “What do you mean?”

Lee Know let out a sharp breath, his eyes flashing with something unreadable. “You know exactly what I mean. The way you look at him. The way you let him get under your skin. It’s so… obvious.”

Y/N felt a rush of heat spread across her chest, her mind scrambling to keep up with his words. “I don’t Lee Know, I don’t understand. Seungmin is just my friend.”

Lee Know’s lips curled into a smirk, but it wasn’t playful. It was bitter. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

Her pulse quickened as he took another step closer. “I told you, it’s not like that between us.”

“I don’t buy it.” Lee Know’s voice was steady, but there was an undeniable fire in his words. “You think you can have him and have me too? That you can keep playing this game?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as his face came dangerously close to hers. Her heart thudded erratically in her chest. “What do you want from me?” she whispered, her voice barely a breath.

Lee Know’s eyes softened for a split second, and in that moment, she saw the intensity of what he was feeling something raw, something desperate.

“I want you to see me,” he said quietly, almost like a confession. “I want you to see what I’ve been trying to show you this whole time.”

Y/N’s heart raced as the tension between them built to an almost unbearable level. She was frozen, unsure of what was happening, of what he wanted. But she couldn’t deny that the pull between them was undeniable. The words hung in the air like a silent promise, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe.

Y/N’s pulse was hammering in her ears as she stood there, locked in the classroom with Lee Know. The space between them seemed to shrink with every breath she took. She tried to gather her thoughts, but all she could focus on was the intensity in his eyes, the way he was standing so close, his presence overwhelming in the small, empty room.

“Lee Know, I…” Y/N began, her voice shaky. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, but there were so many emotions bubbling up inside herconfusion, frustration, and something else she couldn’t quite place.

He watched her, silent and still, his gaze never leaving hers. “What is it, Y/N?” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, like he was waiting for her to say something that would make this whole thing make sense.

Y/N swallowed hard, her breath coming faster as she looked up at him. “I don’t understand,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you doing this? Why are you pulling me away from Seungmin like this?”

Lee Know’s expression softened for a brief moment, but his gaze was still intense, searching her face like he was trying to read her every thought. He took another step closer, closing the distance between them even more. She could feel his breath on her skin now, each exhale a reminder of how close they were.

“Because you don’t see it, Y/N,” he said quietly, his tone suddenly vulnerable. “You don’t see me. You never have.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she took a small step back, but there was nowhere to go. The classroom felt smaller with every passing second, the walls closing in on her as Lee Know continued to advance. Her mind was racing, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and conflicting emotions. Why was this happening? Why was it so hard to breathe?

“You’re not just a friend to me,” Lee Know said, his voice almost a whisper now. “You never were. And I’ve tried to show you, in every way I could, but you always ran back to Seungmin.”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. She wanted to say something, anything, to make sense of this, but nothing felt right. Her heart was telling her one thing, but her mind was still tangled in knots.

“You don’t understand,” she finally managed to say, her voice breaking slightly. “I never wanted to hurt you. But… Seungmin… he’s my friend. I don’t know how to—”

Lee Know cut her off, his voice suddenly fierce, intense. “You think I don’t understand? You think I don’t know how much he means to you?” His eyes burned with frustration, but there was something else there too something darker, something desperate. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. But why does it always have to be him, Y/N? Why can’t it be me?”

Y/N felt a rush of heat spread across her chest, her mind racing to make sense of his words. She could feel her pulse pounding in her throat, and her breath was coming in shallow gasps. She wanted to step back, to put distance between them, but her body betrayed her. She couldn’t move.

His face was inches from hers now, his hands resting at his sides, fists clenched, as though he was holding himself back. But she could see the way his jaw tightened, the way his eyes flickered down to her lips, and she knew.

He wanted this.

She wanted this too.

And yet, the tension was suffocating. The silence between them stretched out, thick and heavy, until it felt like the air itself was crackling with something dangerous.

“Lee Know,” she whispered, barely able to breathe, “what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing gently against her arm. The simple touch sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and she instinctively stepped closer, drawn to him in a way she couldn’t deny.

His hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek, and she closed her eyes, the sensation overwhelming.

“Y/N…” His voice was soft, pleading, as if he was waiting for her to give him permission. “Please…”

And then, without another word, he leaned in, closing the final gap between them.

Her heart stopped in her chest as his lips brushed against hers, tentative at first, like he was testing the waters. But the moment their lips met, the floodgates opened. All the tension, all the unspoken words, the emotions that had been building between them for weeksthey were released in that one moment.

His hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. Y/N’s mind went blank. She couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything except the feeling of him so close, so warm, his lips moving against hers with an urgency that matched her own.

For the first time, the confusion, the tension, the fear it all melted away. There was only Lee Know. Only the way he made her feel.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together as they tried to steady their breathing. Y/N’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her heart still racing in her ears.

Lee Know’s hand was still gently cupping her face, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

“I don’t want to be just another guy to you, Y/N,” Lee Know murmured, his voice hoarse. “I want to be the one you choose. The one you see.”

Y/N felt a rush of conflicting emotions swirl inside her. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. And yet, there was something about being with him in this moment that made everything else fade away.

“I…” Y/N started, but the words stuck in her throat. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what. She was caught between the pull of her feelings for Seungmin and the overwhelming intensity of what she felt for Lee Know.

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Take your time, Y/N,” he said softly. “But don’t keep running from me.”

Y/N stood there, her mind racing, trying to process what had just happened. She had never expected this never imagined she’d be caught in the middle of such a storm. But here she was, with Lee Know standing so close, his presence impossible to ignore.

Lee Know pressed his forehead to hers, his breath still shallow as they lingered in the moment. He leaned in again, his lips meeting hers with more urgency this time, as though he couldn’t wait any longer. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer, the heat between them intensifying. The air between them was thick, charged with everything they’d both been holding back.

As he kisses her he moves her up onto the desk.his hands roaming her body.

While kissing her hungrily, his tongue exploring her mouth with an insistent need. His hands roamed over her body, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. He could feel the heat of her skin through her clothes, and it only fueled his desire.

He then steps between her legs as he pressed his body against hers. His hands moved to her thighs, tracing small circles against her skin as he continued to kiss her, his lips moving down to her neck.

He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, marking her as his own.

"Minho..." Y/N gasped, her voice laced with desire.

He pulled back, his eyes dark with lust as he looked at her. "You're so pretty" he growled, his hands gripping her hips.

He leaned in to capture her lips again, this time more forcefully but gentle making sure not to hurt her. He was claiming her.

He began to kiss down her neck, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of marks in their wake. He wanted everyone to know that she was his, that he had claimed her body and soul.

Y/N could feel his arousal pressing against her, a reminder of how much he wanted her. She moaned softly, her body arching into his touch.

In this moment she forgets seungmin is waiting for her outside.

Lee Know's hands moved to the waistband of her pants, his fingers hooking under the fabric as he began to tug them down. He pulled them off in one swift motion, tossing them aside without a care.

He then turned his attention to his own pants, quickly undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He pushed them down just enough to free himself, his hardness pressing against her through his boxers.

He let out a low groan as he pressed himself against her, the thin layer of fabric between them doing little to dull the sensation. "You feel so good," he murmured, his voice rough with need.

"Please, Minho..." Y/N begged, her body trembling with anticipation.

He chuckled darkly, enjoying the effect he had on her. "Please what, baby?" he asked, his lips brushing against her ear.

She could feel his hot breath against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. "I need you," she whispered, her hands clutching at his shirt.

He smirked, his hands roaming over her body as he teased her. "You're so desperate for me," he said, his voice low and husky. "I am too so of course~"

Lee Know's fingers slid under the waistband of her underwear, slowly peeling them down her legs. He tossed them aside as well, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of her bare before him.

He positioned himself at her entrance, his body tense with anticipation. He teased her for a moment, running the tip of his cock along her slick folds, making her whimper with need.

"You're so wet for me," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "So ready for me to take you."

He couldn't wait any longer. He pushed into her, groaning as her tight heat enveloped him. "Fuck," he hissed, his hands gripping her hips tightly.

Y/N moans quiet, her back arching as he filled her completely. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside her.

He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first. He wanted to savor the feeling of being inside her, the way her body clenched around him.

"You feel so good," he repeated, his voice strained with pleasure. "So perfect for me."

Lee Know picked up the pace, his hips slamming into her with a relentless force. The desk creaked beneath them, the sound echoing through the empty classroom.

Y/N was lost in a haze of pleasure, her moans growing louder with each thrust. She couldn't control the sounds that escaped her lips, her body too overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her. She bites her lip to muffle it.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice rough with need. "Let me hear you."

He leaned down, capturing one of her nipples between his teeth as he continued to pound into her. She cried out at the sensation, her nails digging into his back as she clung to him desperately.

Lee Know's pace became frantic, his need for release taking over. He could feel his own climax building, the tension coiling tightly in his gut.

He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit that sweet spot inside her that made her scream. And scream she did, her body arching off the desk as pleasure coursed through her.

"I'm close," he grunted, his breath hot against her skin. "Cum for me, y/n. I want to feel you come undone around me."

Lee Know's movements became more erratic, his body tense as he chased his release. He could feel her walls fluttering around him, a sure sign that she was close.

his voice ragged. "Let go for me."

He continued to thrust into her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Just as he felt her walls clench tightly around him, he pulled out, spilling himself on her stomach with a strangled groan.

After that and they got dressed and Lee know made sure she was okay. But then y/n remembers seungmin is waiting for her.

Y/N quickly fixed her pants, her heart racing as she glanced at Lee Know, who was pulling his shirt back over his head. The silence between them was heavy, but neither of them dared to break it. She didn’t even want to look at him—not because of regret, but because she wasn’t ready to face what had just happened.

“Y/N,” Lee Know said softly, his voice tentative. He was standing there, watching her, his eyes full of questions he wasn’t sure he should ask.

But Y/N shook her head quickly, brushing her hair out of her face as she grabbed her bag from the desk. “Don’t,” she said quietly, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside her. “We can’t… talk about this. Not now.”

Lee Know frowned, his jaw tightening as he took a step closer. “So, what? You’re just going to pretend this didn’t happen?”

She hesitated for a moment, her hand gripping the strap of her bag so tightly her knuckles turned white. “I have to go,” she said, sidestepping him and heading for the door. She felt his gaze on her the entire time, burning into her back, but she didn’t turn around. She couldn’t.

Her mind was spinning as she stepped into the hallway, quickly smoothing down her clothes and forcing her expression to stay neutral. She couldn’t let anyone see that something had changed, that everything had changed.

The moment she saw Seungmin waiting for her near the lockers, her heart twisted painfully in her chest. He smiled at her, his easy, familiar smile, and it felt like a punch to the gut. Forcing a smile of her own, she walked toward him as though nothing had happened, as though she wasn’t still feeling Lee Know’s touch on her skin.

“Hey,” Seungmin greeted her, his voice warm. “You’re late. What took you so long?”

“Got caught up talking to a teacher,” she lied effortlessly, her voice light and casual. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, willing herself to act normal. “Sorry about that.”

Seungmin shrugged, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “No worries. Ready to head out?”

“Yeah,” Y/N said, nodding quickly. She fell into step beside him, the weight of what had just happened pressing heavily on her chest. But she pushed it down, burying it deep where it couldn’t surface. Not now. Not when Seungmin was looking at her like that, so oblivious to the storm raging inside her.

As they walked down the hallway together, she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder. Lee Know was still standing by the classroom door, his expression unreadable, his eyes locked on her.

Y/N quickly turned back, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think about him. She couldn’t think about any of it. Not now.

The next day it’s the weekend.

Y/N lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as sunlight filtered through her curtains, painting faint patterns across her room. The weekend had arrived, yet it didn’t bring the peace she had hoped for. Instead, her mind was a battlefield, torn between two faces—two sets of eyes that seemed to haunt her every thought.

Lee Know. Seungmin.

She turned onto her side, clutching her pillow tightly as if it could somehow absorb the chaos swirling in her chest. Her heart was a mess of contradictions. When she thought of Seungmin, she felt warmth, comfort, and familiarity—memories of laughter, long talks, and the easy rhythm they had built together over the years.

But then, there was Lee Know. The memory of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, the way his voice sent shivers down her spine. He was raw, overwhelming, and impossible to ignore. Being with him had felt like stepping into a storm—terrifying yet exhilarating.

Y/N groaned, burying her face in the pillow. “What am I doing?” she muttered to herself, her voice muffled.

She had always prided herself on being logical, practical. But now, logic had deserted her entirely. How had she gotten to this point? How had everything become so tangled?

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she reached for it hesitantly, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Seungmin’s name on the screen.

Seungmin: Morning! Want to grab lunch later?

Y/N’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as she hesitated, her mind instantly flashing back to Lee Know’s face—the way he had looked at her after everything that had happened. She hadn’t heard from him since, and the silence was unnerving. Did he regret it? Did she?

Before she could answer Seungmin, another buzz made her jump. This time, it was a message from Lee Know.

Lee Know: We need to talk.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she sat up, her heart racing. She stared at the two messages, the weight of them pressing down on her like a tidal wave.

Two boys. Two choices. And no idea which path would lead to happiness—or heartbreak.

Y/N set the phone down without responding to either of them. She needed time to think, to figure out what she truly wanted. But the more she thought about it, the more trapped she felt, like she was caught in a web she couldn’t escape.

She got out of bed and padded to the window, looking out at the quiet street below. Everything looked so normal, so simple, and yet her world was anything but.

“Why can’t this be easy?” she whispered to herself.

But deep down, she knew the answer. It wasn’t easy because both Seungmin and Lee Know meant something to her. And no matter what she chose, someone was going to get hurt.

As she stood there, staring out at the world that seemed so indifferent to her turmoil, one thought echoed in her mind

She couldn’t avoid them forever

For days, Y/N had done everything she could to avoid them both. Ignoring texts, dodging calls, and even changing her usual routes to class or around town. She thought that putting distance between them would make things clearer, give her the space to figure out what her heart truly wanted.

But all it had done was amplify the confusion.

The weight of it was unbearable—two people she cared about deeply, and no idea how to make a choice without breaking someone’s heart, maybe even her own.

It was late afternoon when she found herself walking aimlessly through the park near her house, the crisp air carrying the scent of autumn leaves. She hadn’t planned on being here, but her feet had brought her to the spot where she, Seungmin, and Lee Know had often hung out together.

Fate, it seemed, wasn’t done with her yet.

When she looked up, her breath hitched. Both of them were there. Seungmin stood by the swings, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. Lee Know was leaning against a tree nearby, arms crossed, his jaw tight.

They hadn’t come together; that much was obvious from the tension crackling in the air between them. But somehow, they were both here now, and their eyes were fixed on her.

Y/N froze, her heart pounding as panic surged through her. She hadn’t prepared for this for seeing them both at the same time, let alone having to face the storm she had been avoiding.

“Y/N,” Seungmin was the first to speak, his voice steady but edged with frustration. “We need to talk.”

Lee Know pushed off the tree, his dark eyes never leaving hers. “Yeah, I think it’s about time.”

She swallowed hard, looking between them. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, you can start by explaining why you’ve been avoiding us,” Seungmin said, his tone sharper now. “You’ve been acting like we don’t exist, and I think we both deserve better than that.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” Y/N said quickly, her voice wavering. “I just needed time to think.”

“Think about what?” Lee Know pressed, stepping closer. “You’ve had days, Y/N. Days to figure out how you feel. And yet, here we are. Still waiting.”

Her stomach twisted as she looked at them two faces she cared about, both looking at her with such intensity that it was hard to breathe. “It’s not that simple,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It is simple,” Seungmin said, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You can’t keep us both in limbo like this. It’s not fair.”

Lee Know nodded, his gaze unwavering. “He’s right. You have to decide, Y/N. Do you want him or me?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. She took a shaky step back, feeling like the ground beneath her was crumbling.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I care about both of you. I don’t want to hurt either of you.”

“That’s not good enough,” Lee Know said, his voice low but firm. “We’ve both been patient, but we can’t keep doing this. You have to choose.”

Seungmin’s eyes softened for a moment, but his tone remained steady. “We’re not asking you to make a decision lightly. But you need to be honestwith us and with yourself.”

Y/N felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes as she looked between them. Her heart was a whirlwind of emotions guilt, fear, longing, and love. But as much as she wanted to keep them both close, she knew they were right. She couldn’t keep running from this.

Her voice trembled as she finally said, “I just need more time.”

Lee Know’s jaw tightened, and he glanced at Seungmin before looking back at her. “You’ve had time, Y/N. How much more do you need?”

Seungmin exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “If you need more time, fine. But you can’t avoid us anymore. Figure it out, Y/N. And soon.”

With that, he turned and walked away, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

Lee Know stayed for a moment longer, his gaze piercing. “I hope you make the right choice,” he said softly before following Seungmin, leaving her standing there alone.

Y/N sank onto the nearest bench, her head in her hands. The clock was ticking, and no matter how much she wished for clarity, she knew that the answer wouldn’t come easily.

It had been days since the confrontation at the park, and neither Seungmin nor Lee Know had spoken to Y/N. She had sent a few hesitant texts to each of them, but their responses were short and distant, leaving her even more unsure of where she stood with them.

Unbeknownst to her, Lee Know and Seungmin were dealing with the situation in their own way. The tension between them had been simmering for weeks, and it was finally about to boil over.

They met at a quiet café near the edge of town, a place they knew would be empty enough for them to talk without interruptions. Lee Know was already seated at a corner table when Seungmin walked in, his usual calm demeanor replaced with something colder, more guarded.

Seungmin sat down across from him, folding his arms. “So, what’s this about?”

Lee Know leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “We need to talk about Y/N.”

Seungmin’s jaw tightened. “I think we’ve talked enough, don’t you?”

“Not like this,” Lee Know replied, his voice steady but firm. “Look, we’ve both made it pretty clear how we feel about her. And we both know she’s struggling to choose between us.”

Seungmin’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t respond.

Lee Know leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. “I don’t want to keep fighting with you, Seungmin. And I don’t want to hurt Y/N by forcing her to make a decision she’s not ready for.”

“So, what’s your solution?” Seungmin asked, his tone skeptical.

Lee Know hesitated for a moment before saying, “We share her.”

Seungmin blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. “What?”

“You heard me,” Lee Know said, his voice calm but determined. “We stop making this a competition. We let her decide how she wants to split her time between us. No more fighting, no more pressuring her.”

“That’s insane,” Seungmin said, shaking his head. “How is that supposed to work?”

“I don’t know,” Lee Know admitted. “But it’s better than what we’re doing now. And it’s better than making her choose and risking losing her altogether.”

Seungmin leaned back in his chair, his arms still crossed as he considered the idea. It went against everything he had been feeling the jealousy, the possessiveness but a part of him couldn’t deny that Lee Know had a point.

“She might not even agree to it,” Seungmin said after a long pause.

“That’s up to her,” Lee Know replied. “But if we’re both serious about wanting her in our lives, then we need to at least try.”

Seungmin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I still think this is crazy. But… I’ll agree, for her sake. If she’s okay with it.”

Lee Know nodded, a small sense of relief washing over him. “Good. Then we’ll talk to her together.”

Seungmin gave him a wary look. “Just so we’re clear, this doesn’t mean I’m okay with you being with her. I’m only doing this because I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Same here,” Lee Know said. “This isn’t about us. It’s about her.”

With that, an uneasy truce was formed. But as they left the café, both of them knew that the path ahead wouldn’t be easy for any of them.

It was late afternoon when Y/N received the text message that left her staring at her phone, her pulse racing.

Seungmin: Meet us at the park near the swings. We need to talk.

The “us” caught her off guard. She didn’t need to ask who he meant she knew both Seungmin and Lee Know would be there.

Her stomach churned as she walked to the park, a thousand questions and scenarios racing through her mind. What could they possibly want to say together? The tension between the three of them had reached a breaking point, and she had no idea how this would go.

When she arrived, they were already there. Seungmin was sitting on one of the swings, his expression neutral but his shoulders tense. Lee Know stood a few feet away, leaning against the frame of the swing set with his arms crossed.

“Y/N,” Seungmin said as she approached. His voice was calm, but there was a seriousness to it that made her chest tighten.

“Hey,” she said softly, looking between them. “What’s going on?”

Lee Know straightened, stepping closer. “We’ve been talking, and we think it’s time we figure out where we all stand.”

Her heart sank. “I… I’m still not ready to choose,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We know,” Seungmin said, his tone gentle. “That’s why we’ve come up with a different idea.”

Y/N frowned, her gaze darting between them. “What do you mean?”

Lee Know glanced at Seungmin before speaking. “We’ve decided to stop pressuring you to choose between us. Instead… we’re willing to share.”

She blinked, sure she had misheard. “What?”

“We’re giving you the choice to spend time with both of us,” Seungmin explained. “No more arguments, no more fighting. You don’t have to feel like you’re stuck in the middle.”

Y/N stared at them, her mind reeling. “You’re serious?”

Lee Know nodded. “We talked about it. And while it’s not ideal for either of us, it’s better than making you feel like you’re being torn apart.”

Her breath caught as she processed their words. She couldn’t deny that part of her felt relieved they were giving her space to figure things out without the added pressure of making an immediate decision. But another part of her felt uneasy.

“What if this doesn’t work?” she asked hesitantly.

Seungmin’s expression softened. “Then we deal with it when the time comes. But we think it’s worth trying, for your sake.”

Y/N looked down at the ground, her emotions swirling. She had never imagined this kind of arrangement, but knowing they were willing to put aside their rivalry for her made her chest ache with a strange mix of gratitude and guilt.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” Lee Know said, his voice gentler than she had ever heard it. “Just think about it. We’ll give you the time and space you need.”

She nodded, still unsure how to feel. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

Seungmin gave her a small smile. “That’s all we’re asking.”

Lee Know stepped closer, his gaze locking with hers. “Just know that we both care about you, Y/N. And we’re willing to do whatever it takes to make this work.”

Her heart clenched at the sincerity in his voice, and for a moment, she felt the weight of their emotions pressing down on her.

As they walked her home that evening, the uneasy truce between them held. But Y/N couldn’t help wondering how long it would last and what it would mean for all of them moving forward.

The next morning, Y/N woke up with a headache. Sleep had been elusive, her mind consumed by the conversation with Seungmin and Lee Know. Their proposal played over and over in her head like a looping film.

Share them?

The idea felt surreal, almost absurd. But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. She cared deeply for both of them—she couldn’t deny that. Seungmin had been her rock for years, a constant in her life who knew her inside and out. And then there was Lee Know, who had quietly slipped into her heart with his relentless devotion and tender moments.

She groaned, rolling over in bed and staring at the ceiling. This wasn’t how love was supposed to work. Love was supposed to be simple—two people, one connection. But somehow, her heart had made room for both of them, and now she was faced with a choice she wasn’t ready to make.

By noon, she was pacing her room, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The idea of seeing them both, of not having to make an immediate decision, felt like a lifeline. But it also felt like walking a tightrope, one wrong step away from disaster.

Her phone buzzed on the desk, breaking her thoughts. She hesitated before picking it up, her breath catching when she saw the message.

Seungmin: No pressure, but have you thought about what we talked about?

Almost immediately, another message popped up.

Lee Know: Hey, just checking in. Hope you’re doing okay.

Y/N stared at the messages, her chest tightening. They were giving her space, just as they had promised, but she could feel their emotions lingering between the lines.

Taking a deep breath, she typed out a reply.

Y/N: Can we meet at the park? I’ve made my decision.

Her heart pounded as she hit send, the weight of her choice sinking in.

An hour later, she stood by the swings, waiting for them. The crisp autumn air nipped at her cheeks, but she barely felt it, her nerves keeping her warm.

Seungmin arrived first, his expression calm but his eyes searching hers. Lee Know appeared moments later, his usual confidence softened by what looked like worry.

“So?” Seungmin asked gently, breaking the silence. “What’s your decision?”

Y/N took a deep breath, her hands gripping the hem of her sweater. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you both said. And… I want to try this. Sharing time with both of you.”

Lee Know blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise. Seungmin raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable.

“I know it’s not conventional,” Y/N continued quickly, her words tumbling out. “But I care about both of you, and I don’t want to hurt either of you. This… this feels like the only way to figure things out without losing someone I love.”

There was a beat of silence before Lee Know’s lips curved into a small smile. “So, you’re saying you want both of us?”

“Don’t make it weird,” Y/N said, her cheeks flushing.

Seungmin chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It’s definitely weird, but… if this is what you want, I’ll try.”

Lee Know nodded, his gaze softening. “Same. For you, I’ll try.”

Relief washed over her, and for the first time in days, she felt like she could breathe again.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, looking between them. “Both of you.”

As the three of them walked away from the swings together, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of hope. It wasn’t the perfect solution, but it was theirs.

And for now, that was enough.

She kisses them both on the cheek and they both smile and blush.

Weeks passed, and to Y/N’s surprise, the unconventional arrangement began to work. She had worried endlessly about how Seungmin and Lee Know would manage to coexist, let alone get along, but the two of them had exceeded her expectations.

At first, there were small gestures of compromise. Seungmin stopped throwing passive aggressive remarks Lee Know’s way, and Lee Know refrained from his usual smug grins whenever Y/N chose to spend time with him. They had even started talking short conversations at first, usually about her, but over time, their interactions grew less tense and more natural.

The three of them developed an great relationship . Y/N divided her time evenly, and both boys respected the boundaries they’d set. What surprised her most was how much Seungmin and Lee Know seemed to enjoy each other’s company when they weren’t focused on her.

One sunny afternoon, the three of them were at the park, sprawled out on a large picnic blanket under the shade of a tree. Y/N had brought sandwiches and snacks, and the boys had brought their usual banter.

“Okay, but you have to admit, my dog is better trained than your cat.” Seungmin said, smirking at Lee Know as he reached for a bag of chips.

“Better trained?” Lee Know scoffed. “Your dog couldn’t even sit still when we went to the café last week. Dori would never embarrass me like that.”

Y/N laughed, watching them bicker. It was strange how normal this had become sitting between them, watching their playful arguments, feeling the peace that had settled over their dynamic.

“She’s probably sick of us talking about pets,” Seungmin said, turning to Y/N with a teasing smile. “Right?”

“Not at all,” she said, grinning. “I’m just waiting to see who wins.”

“It’s obviously me,” Lee Know said confidently, leaning back on his hands. “Dori is a model citizen.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Seungmin replied with a chuckle.

As the afternoon went on, Y/N found herself marveling at how far they had come. A month ago, the idea of Seungmin and Lee Know sharing anything, let alone a girlfriend, would have been laughable. But now, they were sitting side by side, teasing each other like old friends.

Later, as they walked back to her house, Seungmin and Lee Know fell into a discussion about soccer, their voices animated as they debated the skills of different players. Y/N trailed behind them, her heart swelling at the sight.

For the first time in weeks, she felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

56 notes · View notes

sheerfreesia007 · 2 days ago

Text

No Longer Playing Pretend

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Word count: 4,458

Content warnings: Fluff, suggestive

Summary: Your relationship with Hyunjin may have started as a faux bid for freedom for the both of you, but as the year moves along you both come to realize that it’s no longer fake and has become something so much more precious to you than even your freedom was.

Uli jag-eun geos: Our little one

Part One: Play Pretend

You stare at the pictures of the floral arrangements that your wedding planner slid across the table at you and you can’t help but frown darkly as your eyes dart around the pictures. They’re not what you had agreed on with the florist and you can feel your irritation starting to rise within you.

“These aren’t the flowers we agreed on.” you tell her while shaking your head. You wedding planner sighed softly and hung her head.

“Yes I know, but the florist thinks that these flowers would do better paired together.” your wedding planner explained.

“But the flowers we agreed on earlier were suggestions from the florist to begin with.” you argued as you shook your head. This has been a constant struggle for you lately and you were starting to feel the effects of the frustration and aggravation of having to deal with all of this. “Why would the florist suddenly now change the flower selections after being the one to suggest certain flowers to begin with?” you asked, trying to curb your anger and irritation. Suddenly your cell phone began to ring and you saw your mother’s contact name pop up on your screen filling you with dread as you held up one finger and swiftly answered her call.

“Yes Mom, what is it?” you asked tiredly and bit your tongue knowing that she’d have something to say about your tone.

“Well aren’t you just a peach.” she snipped at you huffily and you sighed softly.

“I’m sorry, I’m a little stressed. What’s going on?” you apologize quickly before looking back down quietly at the pictures of the floral arrangements that the florist had sent over.

“Has your florist shown you the arrangements that I changed?” your mother asked and you felt your eye twitch violently at her questions. Now it all made sense to you on why things seemed to changing left and right with every choice that you made your for your wedding to Hyunjin. You knew that your mother would be very opinionated about what your wedding should look like. But you had thought that she’d at least let you make the decisions instead of trying to take over and steamroll you on everything, your mistake.

“You changed them?” you asked in a quiet rage filled voice.

“Yes, I spoke with your wedding planner. She’s such a sweetheart by the way, you should tip her well. We were able to get the flowers changed quickly before they sent you their mockups.” your mother explained and you sighed deeply as your irritation came back full force. “So what did you think?” your mother asked you and your rage consumed you instantly.

It wasn’t just the fact that you felt as if you had been fighting an uphill battle since you started planning your wedding two months ago, no you were also working longer hours at the Hwang’s real estate brokerage firm all due to the status of your relationship with Hyunjin. And while you loved working and being able to close deals left and right without the looming judgemental eye of your family on your back it was all starting to take a toll on you with all the added stress of wedding planning. You had wanted to talk to Hyunjin about all the stress lately but you knew he was busy as well with planning and preparing for his first gallery opening at his art gallery, you hadn’t wanted to add more stress onto him so you had kept your mouth shut about all of it.

“I will have to call you back.” you said into the phone just as you watched Hyunjin walk into the apartment, he looked exhausted as his eyes dragged over to look at you while a happy smile bloomed onto his face. Your rage dissipated slightly at his happy smile at seeing you before returning as you heard your wedding planner clear her throat.

“So if I could get your decision on the flowers that would be great.” she chirped out at you eagerly as her eyes darted over Hyunjin’s form with a heated sparkle in her eye causing you to grit your teeth angrily.

“Actually you can leave, I won’t be needing your services any longer.” you deadpanned as you crossed your arms over your chest as glared at the woman. She jerked in her seat and whipped her head back around to stare at you wide eyed as her mouth dropped open. Hyunjin even stared at you wide eyed as he came to stand behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders before beginning to massage his fingers into your tense muscles.

“Excuse me?” she chirped out surprised and you nodded your head at her.

“I’d like to terminate our contract. I no longer need your services.” you said with a quiet rage behind your voice.

“But we’ve only just started.” the woman said worriedly and you nodded your head at her words.

“Yes and you’ve undermined my decisions at every point. Choosing to accept my mother’s choices over mine in every aspect so far. So please contact all the vendors and venues and tell them that we will no longer be needing their services. Thank you, you can leave.” you said firmly as she gaped out without being able to say anything. You watched with barely contained disgust as she quickly gathered up all of her things and rushed from your apartment. When the door shut behind her you let out a loud tired sigh and let your head hang back against the back of your chair to stare up at Hyunjin who looked down at you worriedly.

“Are you alright?” he asked cautiously and you shook your head.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard to plan a wedding. But I should’ve known better with my mother.” you said in a soft weary tone that made Hyunjin coo softly at you. Hyunjin continued to massage your shoulders before he leant down and pressed a kiss to your forehead sweetly.

“Is work still crazy busy?” he asked softly before trailing his kisses to your temple as you sighed in comfort at his attention.

“Yeah, I closed one three big deals this week and I’ve got four more lined up for next week.” you said with a soft groan as Hyunjin dug his fingers into the back of your neck. “And now I’ve fired our wedding planner all because my mother is trying to control how our wedding will look.” you said defeated and Hyunjin cooed softly at you before pressing a kiss behind your ear.

“It was for the best. She shouldn’t have been listening to your mom. You’re the bride, it’s our wedding. Not your mother’s.” Hyunjin reassured you and you hummed softly in agreement to his words. “Do you have any appointments tomorrow at work?” he asked softly before nipping at your ear lobe gently. You flinched away from his as he chuckled and nuzzled his face into your neck.

“No, I was just going to work on the paperwork for next week’s meetings and closings.” you told him as your head tilted back against his shoulder and your eyes fluttered shut.

“Play hooky with me.” he whispered into your ear and you furrowed your brow at him softly. “Come paint with me at my studio. We both need a break from work and the wedding planning stress. And we’ve haven’t been able to spend much time together.” he husked out to you softly causing you to shiver in your chair. It took you nearly no time to agree to his plan of playing hooky. You quickly sent a text to your secretary telling her that you wouldn’t be in the office tomorrow and would see her the next day before you turned back to Hyunjin who grinned happily at you.

“I spoil you too much.” you tease him and he grins widely at you before pulling you from your chair and wrapping you into his arms as his lips descend on your neck and begin to trail kisses along the column of flesh.

“Hmmm, considered me the spoiled princess in this relationship then.” he husks out to you as he guides you towards your bedroom with a heated look in his eyes.

*-*-*-*

The next morning finds you and Hyunjin walking up the stairs to his studio after having a hearty breakfast at a local breakfast cafe where the employees all knew Hyunjin by first name. You had teased him goodnaturedly that he had been seeing the employees more than you these past few weeks and he ducked his head before dragging you to a booth and caging you in the seat. He had quickly shut you up with a sweet peck of his lips to your before whispering that you were the only one he wanted to see. The rest of the morning had been filled with happy laughter shared between the two of you as you shared stories of your week and Hyunjin had shared his plans for his art gallery trying to get your opinion on what he was planning. You didn’t want to influence him in any way away from his vision so you kept telling him that you were excited to see it come to life and that you couldn’t wait for it to finally happen for him.

Just as you get to the top of the stairs grumbling softly at how many stairs there were causing Hyunjin to chuckle softly at you he turned to face you fully and you looked at him with surprised wide eyes. He smirked softly at you before holding his hand out palm up in between the two of you. You tilted your head to the side in confusion at him and he waited patiently for you to understand. Slowly slipping your hand into his he huffed softly before shaking his head.

“Give me your phone love.” he said with an amused eye roll at you and you huffed back at him.

“Use your words baby and maybe I’d understand.” you griped at him causing him to smirk at you before you leaned into his space and crowded him up against the door behind him. “Or did I make you use all your words last night?” you asked sultrily and Hyunjin flushed brightly with embarrassment causing you to grin knowingly at him before sweetly pecking his lips as you slipped your phone into his open hand.

You watched delightedly as Hyunjin huffed at you before setting your phone to do not disturb, he then turned away from you and unlocked his studio and led you into the brightly lit space eagerly. You slipped out of your jacket as you watched Hyunjin moved about the space setting up two easels in the middle of the room and then began to set up paints for the both of you.

“So normally I just put on a playlist and paint. But if you want I have a whole folder of photos that I’ve taken that you could use as inspiration.” he explained sounding slightly unsure of himself and you smiled softly at him as you watched him play with the hem of his old ratty t-shirt that he had chose to wear today. Walking towards him you grabbed his hand gently before raising it to your lips and kissing his knuckles slowly.

“Hyune, relax babe. We’ll do whatever strikes our fancy. Put on your playlist you wanna listen to and I’ll just follow your lead.” you reassure him gently and he flushes brightly once again at your sweet gesture before he quickly nods his head at you. He then darts forward and kisses you sweetly as his hands cup your face, when he pulls away he presses his forehead to yours and smiles widely as his eyes stay closed for a moment.

“Thank you. I don’t know why I’m so nervous to paint with you.” he whispers softly and your heart melts in your chest at how much he wants to share this experience with you. Sighing softly you kiss him once more before pressing a kiss to his nose sweetly.

“Thank you for sharing this with me. I’m so excited to do this.” you confess to him softly and his eyes open to stare at you lovingly. He then nods his head and breaks away from you to set up his music and then moves back to his easel as you step behind yours. An idea strikes you and you lift your easel to turn it away from Hyunjin so that he can’t see it and he looks at you curiously with a soft smile on his face. “I want it to be a surprise for you.” you tell him and he grins widely at you as his eyes widen slightly before his whole face softens at your intention. The two of you then begin your first painting session together.

*-*-*-*

It’s hours later and you raise a hand to wipe sweat from your brow as you look at your canvas critically. You had started with just random swatches of your and Hyunjin’s favorite colors on the canvas as the music played loudly through his studio. It didn’t take long for your reservations of painting to fall away as you easily just listened to the music and painted whatever popped into your head as you stared at the canvas. Slowly but surely an idea formed in your brain and you tried your hardest to showcase in paint on the canvas in front of you.

Tilting your head to the side you wondered if Hyunjin would see your vision the way you wanted him to or if he would interpret it differently. You hadn’t only wanted to show how beautifully the two of you had melded together since starting this faux relationship that had turned into something so precious and resplendent to you. Suddenly you heard Hyunjin giggle softly and your eyes darted over to see him watching you with a lovesick look on his face.

“What is it?” you asked softly and he grinned widely at you as his eyes darted around your face happily.

“You have paint everywhere on your face.” he said amusedly as his smile widened on his face. “Did you get any on your canvas?” he teased you and you burst out in indignant laughter at his joke.

“I’ll have you know I might surpass you in my skill.” you teased him back and watched happily as his smile morphed into a challenging smirk as his eyes hardened on you with interest.

“Is that so?” he asked curiously as he began to move closer to you, but you quickly threw your hands up to stop and the paintbrush in your hand suddenly smeared paint across his old shirt and you gasped loudly in surprise. Hyunjin stopped in front of you as your hands splayed against his chest stopping him from getting closer to your easel to see your painting. You both stood there silently looking down at the bright swatch of lavender paint on his shirt before you burst out into happy laughter at your mistake. “Think that’s funny do you?” he asked challengingly and you looked up belatedly as you gasp when you felt his cold yellow paint covered paintbrush glide along the base of your neck.

“Hyune!” you cried shocked at the feeling of the cold paint. Suddenly the game was on as you grabbed your paintbrush and tried to paint more lavender onto him. Hyunjin quickly dodged as you chased him cackling with happy delighted laughter. The two of you were locked in a war of lavender and yellow as you both raced around his studio trying to get more paint on each other. Soon you’re bent over in half as you try to catch your breath after chasing him around the room like you were children, Hyunjin comes to stand in front of you still panting and chuckling at you.

When you stand up straight after catching your breath you catch sight of him and then burst into laughter once more. He’s covered in lavender and yellow paint in a kaleidoscope of contrasting colors, there’s even some paint in his dark black hair that makes you laugh even more at him. You don’t notice him still as he stares at you with awe filled eyes as you continue to laugh at him. Only when he steps close to you that your bodies are nearly flush with each other do you notice his changed manner. He’s staring at you with adoring eyes that have widened slightly as you still chuckle softly at him before he lunges forward flinging his paintbrush to the side as his arms wrap around you completely and lift your body up against his own while his lips capture yours heatedly. You squeak softly at his movement as his mouth nearly devours yours while he slides your body slowly down his body until he’s almost hunched over you still keeping his lips attached to yours hungrily.

“W-what was that for?” you ask in a gasp when he pulls away from you finally allowing you to suck in much needed air.

“I’d marry you just like this covered in paint and laughing at me as love sparkles through your eyes at me.” he whispers to you and you grip the sides of his shirt as you melt against him while tilting your face up to his wantonly. He then slowly guides you down to the floor with the whispered promise that he’s going to worship you like the queen you are to him.

*-*-*-*

The ballroom is absolutely stunningly decorated in gorgeous floral arrangements in lavenders and soft muted yellows that remind you of that day back in Hyune’s studio, it had actually been the driving inspiration for your wedding color theme. After months of planning with a new wedding planner who was more worried about making both you and Hyune happy on your big day than anyone else, the day had finally come. The ceremony had been beautiful in a famous cathedral in the middle of the city you lived in and now as your guests all happily talked with each other as they waited in their seats for dinner to be served you couldn’t help but sit back and smile to yourself.

“My wife looks very pleased with herself.” Hyunjin says in an amused whisper in your ear that makes you beam at him as you turn your face to his.

“Oh absolutely do you see the sour puss on Sherry’s face? And her mothers?” you gush out to him delightedly causing him to laugh.

“Your desire for revenge against them is delicious.” he coos at you before leaning closer and capturing your lips in a heated kiss. You hum against his mouth as you hear soft cheers from your guests as they spot you and Hyunjin kissing.

“What’s gotten into you today? You can’t keep your hands or your lips to yourself.” you say delighted and he looks at you with an offended look on his face.

“I just married the love of my life, of course I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself. Have you seen her? Stunning, gorgeous, badass queen that she is. Ten out of ten on a scale of wives I could bag.” he says teasingly as he pulls you from your chair and onto his lap.

“Did you really just rate me on a scale of one to ten?” you asked him with faux disgust tinting your tone and he quickly nods his head at you causing you to laugh amused before cupping his face and kissing his lips. His hum vibrates your lips and you sigh against him as your body melts into his as your arms come and wrap around his neck.

“Save it for tonight!” comes a loud call from your guests and Hyunjin pulls away with a disgruntled look directed at his friends while you laugh at him happily. You pull his face back to yours and smile sweetly at him as he gazes up at you like you’ve hung the stars and moon for him.

“I have a gift for you.” you tell him sweetly with a little trepidation in your voice and he smirks lustfully at you as his hands grip your hips tightly.

“Is it underneath this dress?” he asks huskily and you laugh at him before shaking your head at his teasing words.

“Yes, but that’s not the gift I’m talking about.” you tell him and he grins wickedly at you before pouting softly as you stand from his lap and walk over to the table that's a few feet from the head table where you both were sitting. You grab the plainly wrapped gift and excitedly bring it over to him. Hyunjin takes the gift from you and you stay standing next to him wanting to watch his reaction when he opens it. Your hands grip together and begin twisting nervously but Hyunjin quickly tears into the wrapping. When he has it completely opened he sits there staring at the canvas that you had painted for him that day in the studio in quiet awe. You begin to grow anxious as he has no response at all to the gift and you shift on your feet worriedly. When it all becomes too much for you you reach forward to take the canvas back but Hyunjin quickly pulls it away from you before lifting his head to stare at you with wide eyes.

“It’s us.” he whispers to you and suddenly you’re melting for him. You’re just so happy that he understands the meaning behind your abstract painting that you feel your heart swell in your chest with love for him. You grin widely as tears pool in your eyes before nodding your head at him. Hyunjin surprises you by standing swiftly from his chair and wrapping an arm low around your waist and dragging your body into his while his lips descend on yours hungrily and adoringly.

“We have to go.” he pants out when he pulls slightly away from you and you gasp softly for air as you stare up at him worriedly.

“Go where Hyune?” you ask concerned and he shakes his head as he tries to compose himself.

“I need underneath me as we stare at this masterpiece.” he pants out and your whole body ignites with heat at his words. “I need to get you pregnant while gazing at this painting.” he pants out mindlessly as he begins to drag you out of the ballroom with the canvas still gripped in his hand tightly as your guests all cheer loudly.

*-*-*-*

The evening is bustling with art enthusiasts as they all walk around the gallery taking in all the artwork that your talented husband has created over the years. You’re absolutely awed by all of his hard work and personal touches that show through the gallery. The pride swelling within is solely and completely for Hyunjin and him alone as you make your way through the gallery looking for him.

When you spot him at the end of the gallery where his signature piece is hung proudly you stop for a moment and have to bite your bottom lip as your eyes take him in hungrily. He’s dressed in a beautiful merlot colored three piece suit with his grown out hair falling to his shoulders which makes your stomach clench with desire for him. As he turns he spots you standing there eyeing him like he’s a delectable piece of fruit and he grins knowingly at you before walking towards you.

“You’re finally here.” he whispers excitedly as his hands grab onto yours and tug you into a warm tight hug before he tilts your face up and presses a sweet kiss to your lips. You hum softly against his mouth and he flicks his tongue briefly against your bottom lip before pulling away. “How was the doctor’s appointment? Everything alright?” he asked worriedly as he pulled away and gazed down at you. Nodding your head in response he smiles before guiding you towards his signature piece.

“Yes, everything is alright. In fact it’s wonderful.” you tell him with a happy content smile on your face which makes him smile in response. He guides you to stand in front of his painting and he moves to stand behind you while wrapping his arms loosely around body to cage you in against his front. You both stand there silent for a moment as you take in the painting and gasp softly as you see the beautiful portrait of two lovers kissing. It’s not slightly abstract as both beings are colored in bright contrasting colors that meet together to create a beautiful new color. You lean your head back against his chest and Hyunjin leans forward towards your neck where he nuzzles in slightly. “It’s us.” you whisper to him and he hums softly at you before nodding his head. Your eyes then dart to the painting next to his and you beam at him with so much adoration as you recognize the painting you had made for him hung there proudly. “Is this our interpretation of our relationship?” you ask him softly and he presses a loud wet kiss to your cheek.

“I’m glad that you understand me.” he whispers in your ear softly making you grin at his words.

“So do you think uli jag-eun geos will have your talent in art or mine?” you ask curiously as you stand there leaning back against him as your eyes take in the mirroring paintings proudly.

“Well obviously mine if I have anything to say about it.” Hyunjin scoffs softly and you burst out in happy laughter at the fact that he didn’t even have to think twice about his answer. You give him a moment to process what you had asked and suddenly he’s spinning you in his arms as he stares down at you with wide eyes.

“Uli jag-eun geos?” he asks you softly with bated breath and you grin up at him as you slowly pull out the ultrasound pictures that the sonographer had given to you to take home. Hyunjin’s eyes darted over the pictures before he hurriedly cups your face and kisses you like his life depended on it. “I love you so much. I can’t put into words how much.” he whispers against your lips and you smile so widely that you feel your cheeks ache as you feel happiness glow from within you.

“Then how about you paint it?” you ask him lovingly and he devours your mouth lovingly as he pulls you closer to him.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

#my writing #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin

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clockwork-ashes · 1 day ago

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Shake the Frost - Part II

Read on Ao3

Summary: Elain’s visions lead her to the human lands where she seeks answers from the one male she’s been avoiding—Lucien. As the two of them work together, the walls built between them begin to crumble.

Note: this is for the lovely @zenkindoflove for this year’s @acotargiftexchange <3 a HUGE thank you to those organising the event, i had the most fun!!!

Elain POV

Elain stared at the paper in front of her, the pen hovering over the blank sheet until a drop of ink fell and scattered onto it.

Blood dripping onto a fresh blanket of snow.

“Lovely,” Elain muttered, setting the pen aside and crumpling up the ruined paper. She wasn’t able to focus on the task at hand, despite her efforts the last few days. It had been a week since she’d left the Night Court, and every letter she had penned had been filled with more of the same vague reassurances.

Everything is fine.

I’m just taking some time for myself.

Don’t worry, and I’ll be back soon.

The words had all felt hollow when she’d read them out loud, and each of the letters she had written and signed had all been promptly tossed into the fireplace in the sitting room.

Elain sighed, rubbing her eyes as the latest of her visions crept up on her, sharp and unwelcome. It was the same one she had shown to her mate when she’d first arrived at the manor, flashing in her mind like the briefest glimpse of a shooting star.

Eris Vanserra, handsome in a cloak made of the finest silk, a crown of flames adorning his scarlet hair.

Lucien handed a dagger to his brother, one made of Illyrian steel, blood on the silver edge.

Ravens scattered into the air, their wings black against the grey sky. The cold scent of copper filled the air, mingling with the scent of something burning…

Elain gripped the edge of the table, forcing the vision out of her mind much easier than she had expected. She knew she couldn’t ignore the message it was trying to send, but she was glad all the same when she was once again simply staring at the kitchen tiles. It usually took a lot more of her energy, fighting the constant flood of images that pressed against her consciousness, but being near Lucien seemed to make it better.

At first, Elain had thought it was mere coincidence, but after laying awake in the evenings only to sleep dreamlessly for seven nights, even she couldn’t deny there was a bit of magic to the bond between them. Lucien’s presence was like a quiet balm against the chaos, anchoring her in reality and pulling her out of any spiraling visions. While it still wasn’t enough to stop them entirely, the effects of the mating bond has not gone unnoticed by her.

Elain tapped her short nails onto the wood of the table, looking at the remaining blank sheet of paper and the discarded pen she had borrowed from Jurian. With an exaggerated sigh, Elain slumped in her chair, defeated.

She had started writing to Feyre, and every word had left a bitter taste in her mouth. Performative and insincere, she couldn’t find a way to explain her actions in a way that wouldn’t make them all worry about her.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor interrupted her thoughts, and Elain straightened in her own seat. She glanced up to see Vassa, the sharp heels of her booted feet loud as she settled next to her. The other woman paused, one brow raised, her face a near impossible mixture of curiosity and disinterest.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice steady.

While there was no concern lining the words, Elain could admit that there was also no judgment. She let out a heavy breath, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. “Everything,” she mumbled, exasperated. She combed her hands through her tangled curls, a small, frustrated noise escaping her lips.

Vassa clicked her tongue, a sound that almost made Elain smile. There was a teasing edge to it, the kind that could easily break through the weight of Elain’s frustration. “Are you always this dramatic?” Vassa asked, her dark eyes glinting with amusement, her question a friendly challenge.

Elain laughed weakly, shaking her head. “If I write to my sisters, they’ll tell me to come back.” The words tumbled out before she could stop them. She knew Feyre and Nesta would demand she return to them, back to the safety of their circle, back to the comfort of Velaris. While they might be willing to help, Elain was certain they would also be the first voices telling her to stay behind.

Sometimes, Elain had to remind herself that her sisters behaved that way only because they cared.

Vassa tilted her head, her expression shifting to something far more curious. She scrunched her nose, clearly considering Elain’s words. “You don’t have to, though,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of someone who was used to giving orders instead of following them. “You can do as you like.”

Elain gave her a small, rueful smile. “I’m guessing you don’t have sisters?” she asked, her tone playful. She was surprised at how easy liking the human queen was.

Vassa snorted in response, the sound louder than Elain had expected from someone of her status. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t be obligated to listen to them.”

Elain laughed quietly at that, the sound lighter than it had been in days. The simple words made her feel a little less alone, a little more understood. Vassa was right, of course, and Elain didn’t necessarily owe anyone explanations.

“You don’t have to listen to me.” Vassa’s expression softened as she stood up slowly, tucking her chair in gently, giving Elain some space. “But the Cauldron gave you a very powerful ability, and I think that means something. And I think your sisters should trust you,” she said, her tone unexpectedly earnest.

Elain’s throat tightened at the reminder. She had considered being a Seer a curse for so long, a blessing and a burden. The Sight connected her to the world in ways that were both beautiful and terrible, and her visions could be lovely and vicious in equal measure. She frowned, her lips pulling downwards as she stared at her hands.

Vassa didn’t wait for her to respond. With a soft shrug, she turned and left Elain alone at the table, her boots clicking daintily along the floors. Elain didn’t immediately return to her letter. She let the silence settle around her, the quiet that filled the space where Vassa had been. The weight of her words lingered in the air, like a promise.

Elain closed her eyes, the faint pull of the bond to Lucien humming in the background of her mind, soothing and grounding her. While it annoyed her slightly that a man was the cause, the reprieve it brought was enough for her to ignore the more bitter thoughts she usually had around the bond.

When Lucien was near, it was as if she could finally breathe.

No sooner had she relaxed, she felt the vaguest of chills along her spine. A vision creeped along her eyes, the kitchen disappearing from her sight.

Blood scattered onto snow.

Eris gripping a dagger, golden rings flashing.

The gentle sound of whirring, a final click, before the dagger cut through flesh.

Elain’s breath caught in her throat, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the image, but it clung to her, sharp. Blowing at a strand of hair, the world sharpened back into focus.

Elain grabbed the pen again, her hand shaking just slightly. She trusted her sisters, and a part of her believed that they trusted her too. She scrawled across the paper, her hand moving swiftly, though the words were no less difficult to find despite her new found confidence.

Nesta and Feyre…

Elain paused, her mind swimming in a sea of visions, and she sighed, feeling the pressure of the words she was about to write.

I’m fine. I promise.

LUCIEN POV

Lucien’s fingers hovered over the chessboard, nudging a knight forward with a sly grin. “Check,” he said, leaning back in his chair, russet eye gleaming.

Jurian didn’t flinch, his face a mask of concentration as he moved his queen with quiet precision. “You’re getting better, but not that good,” he teased, raising an eyebrow as he surveyed the board.

Lucien laughed, taking in the sight of the human general, wondering if he was still as sharp and quick-witted as he’d been on the battlefield centuries before. Their banter filled the room as the game continued, but it wasn’t long before a soft sound caught his attention, the light creak of the door opening.

Elain stepped into the room and his heart stuttered once in his chest. She had her cloak wrapped snugly around her shoulders, the dark fabric catching the flicker of light from the nearby hearth. The fire’s glow danced over her, but it was her presence that struck him the most. Her beauty was undeniable, and tonight, it seemed to have intensified. The dim moonlight filtering in through the arched windows made her eyes seem endless, there was a depth to them that pulled him in. She was staring directly at him, and for a heartbeat, he couldn’t look away.

“I’m going for a walk,” Elain announced, her voice quiet but resolute, a slight blush staining her cheekbones as she looked between him and Jurian.

Lucien’s gaze lingered on her, sensing the unspoken invitation in her words. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Jurian cut in. Still looking at the board between them, he said, “Sounds lovely, I’ve been meaning to stretch my legs.”

Elain’s lips parted, her blush deepening. The sight was both endearing and exasperating. She looked at Lucien, as if expecting him to speak and intervene on her behalf. She tugged at the bond between them, like a rough yank on a string tied to his rib. Lucien’s breath caught in his throat as he glared at his friend, golden eye clicking into place.

Jurian raised a broad hand, a rook between his fingers. “I’m kidding,” he added with a grin.

Elain laughed awkwardly, the sound a mix of relief and embarrassment. Lucien rolled his eyes, offering her a long-suffering look as he stood up, giving her a small smile. “Let me grab my coat.”

The moment stretched out, and without a word, Lucien stepped into the hall, pulling on his boots before he took hold of his jacket. He could feel Elain’s eyes on him as he shrugged on the dark wool coat, the familiar weight of it grounding him. He turned back to her, holding the door open, his chest tight with an emotion he didn’t want to name.

Elain stepped past him, her breath coming out in small clouds as she elegantly stepped down the stone stairs of the manor. The night was still, save for the soft crunch of snow beneath their boots. Lucien kept a glamour up, a faint shimmer around them to let her know he had done so.

There was a part of Lucien that was glad they would remain hidden from view, a feeling that was as though the world beyond the spell didn’t exist.

The air was crisp and cold, the faintest touch of winter biting at his skin no matter how warm his blood ran. He kept his gaze ahead, but he could feel Elain’s presence close beside him, her steps matching his pace in the quiet of the night.

It was his mate who broke the silence, her voice soft, but the words still sharp with meaning. “Can you help me send a letter to the Night Court?”

Relief washed over him, knowing that the sooner Feyre and Rhysand knew where Elain was, the less trouble he would have explaining himself.

“Who should I send it to?” Lucien asked, his voice steady, although his mind was already working through the necessary steps he would have to take to make her wish a reality.

“Nesta,” Elain replied without hesitation. Her tone was firm, as if she had made her decision long before she had even asked for his help. “If you can get it to Nesta first, I’m sure she’ll show it to Feyre.”

Lucien nodded, understanding. He glanced at her, taking in the way she tucked a curl behind her pointed ear. The vision she had shared with him weighed heavily on his mind. He had tried not to dwell on the fact that she was able to show others what she saw, but he was very impressed that she had learned how to manipulate her magic without help from others.

“If we can also send a letter to Autumn?” Elain’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Lucien furrowed his brow, the scarred side pulling uncomfortably as he glanced at her. “Who would you need to speak with in Autumn?” Even though he already knew the answer, he might as well hope that she’d change her mind.

Elain looked up at him with her full lips pressed into a firm line. There was a silent challenge in her dark gaze, as if to say that he already knew the answer.

Lucien ran a hand through his hair, holding back a small smile. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, his voice soft and determined.

Elain took a slow, steadying breath, a perfect little cloud in the cold night. She grabbed his hand, a gentle tug, just enough to stop him in his tracks. She was wearing gloves, a barrier between them despite the contact. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes warm despite the chill in the air, and the moment felt as if time had stretched itself thin.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice low but sincere.

He felt a rush of warmth flood through him at her words. “Of course,” Lucien answered instinctively, before realizing how hollow the words might have sounded to her ears.

Before he could say anything more, Elain surprised him again. She linked her fingers with his own, pulling him as a reminder to move so they could continue to walk.

Elain didn’t let go of his hand, a ruby blush staining her cheeks. She held on tightly, and Lucien dragged his thumb across her knuckles, letting her lead.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #vassa acotar #jurian acotar #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #ashes writes sometimes #shake the frost #thank you for reading <3

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whosscruffylooking · 16 hours ago

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The Purest Things: Envy (Lo-Fi) Part 1

Aaron Hotchner x Fem! Reader Word Count: 5.2k Warnings: Mentions of guns, shootings, bombings, and other canon typical violence. Brief use of alcohol. The Purest Things Masterlist

au! may 2008

Bookend: "Success is not built on success. It's built on failure. It's built on frustration. Sometimes it's built on catastrophe." - Sumner Redstone

The jet hums steadily as you settle into your seat, the team taking their places around you. The weight of the case looms large, even before you’ve touched down in New York. A shadowy figure roamed Manhattan, shooting people in broad daylight. You can already feel the tension building.

Rossi leans forward, his voice cutting through the low hum of the jet. “The victims?”

“Each shot in a completely different neighborhood,” Hotch responds. “Hell’s Kitchen, Murray Hill, Lower East Side, Chinatown, East Harlem.”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” you mutter, still trying to wrap your mind around it.

“The killings are happening roughly every two days,” Hotch continues, his voice steady. “The press is having a field day, and it sounds like the mood on the street’s getting pretty tense.”

Rossi, always focused, presses on. “It’s a joint FBI-NYPD task force?”

Hotch gives a short nod. “Kate Joyner heads up the New York field office. She’s running point on the case and called me directly.”

Your ears perk up at the mention of her name. She called him directly. That little detail catches your attention, even though you try not to show it.

“Oh?” You ask, trying to keep your voice casual.

“Kate’s starting to butt heads with the lead detectives and wanted a fresh set of eyes,” Hotch explains, his tone businesslike.

“Joyner, I know her. She’s a Brit,” Morgan chimes in, clearly familiar with her.

“Dual citizenship,” Hotch corrects. “Her father’s British, her mother’s American. She was a big deal at Scotland Yard before coming to the Bureau.”

His quick correction catches you off guard. There’s something about the way he highlights her credentials that leaves a strange knot in your stomach.

“I heard she can be a pain in the ass,” Morgan adds with a grin.

“I don’t think so,” Hotch replies without hesitation.

You can’t help but blink, surprised at the way Hotch speaks about her so easily. It’s not just the words, but the way he says them—like he’s familiar with her in a way you hadn’t realized.

“You know her?” you ask, the words slipping out before you can stop yourself. The question hangs in the air, and you feel a strange hint of something—curiosity, maybe, or something else you’re not ready to name.

Hotch nods, his tone neutral. “We liaised when she was still at Scotland Yard.”

Liaised. You repeat the word in your head, trying not to overthink it, but it sounds so formal. So… familiar.

“You liaised,” you echo with a soft chuckle, keeping your tone light. You’re not sure why it even matters or why you’re suddenly more interested in this Kate Joyner than the case itself.

Hotch’s expression remains indistinct, but there’s a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth, almost like he caught the edge in your voice. “She’s a competent agent,” he says, turning his attention back to the discussion as if that settles everything.

“She must be good,” Prentiss reacts, and you’re almost dreading Hotch’s response. Of course, he replies without delay.

“I think we’re lucky to have her,” he says, a softness creeping into his voice as he speaks her name.

Hearing Hotch speak about her with such ease—admiration, respect—tugs at something inside you, leaving you momentarily off balance. You tell yourself it’s nothing, just the suspense of the case, and force your focus back where it belongs.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

You walk into the field office, curiosity rising inside you—though you’d never admit it. Hotch seems almost… lighter as he steps through the door, and it’s throwing you off. This entire situation feels strange like you’ve wandered into some alternate reality where you’re just an observer in Hotch’s orbit.

And then you see her. Kate Joyner. Blonde, blue-eyed, perfectly put together, down to the last strand of hair. The kind of woman who looks effortlessly in control. You think to yourself, who does she remind me of?

JJ leans in, her voice low and laced with humor as she glances toward you and Penelope. “Is it me, or does she look exactly like Haley?”

Bingo. Your eyes widen as realization clicks into place. “This feels like we are in an episode of The Twilight Zone,” you whisper back, half-joking, half-serious.

And then it happens. “Aaron!” Kate calls out warmly, her British accent smoothing out every syllable.

You blink. His first name? Out in the open like that? You’re pretty sure he only recently gave you that privilege, and now it feels… less exclusive.

Hotch doesn’t miss a beat. “Kate Joyner, this is David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, and Spencer Reid.”

And then nothing. No mention of you. Just like that, you’re invisible.

“And I’m Y/N,” you say, a little too quickly. You try to sound casual, but there’s a harshness to it that betrays your irritation.

Hotch’s eyes flick to you—briefly. If there’s an apology in that glance, it’s buried deep, because he turns his attention back to Kate without missing a beat.

“Thanks for being here,” Kate says, her smile effortless and her tone gracious. “Anything you need, just let me know. No need to stand on protocol.” Of course, she has a perfect accent too. Naturally.

You’re still trying to figure out why this whole exchange has unsettled you when Emily leans closer, smirking just enough to be dangerous. “They liaised at Scotland Yard,” she whispers, drawing out the word.

You shoot her a look, but she just raises an eyebrow knowingly. JJ suppresses a snicker beside you.

Okay, maybe this isn’t jealousy. Maybe it’s just… mild confusion. Mixed with a tiny sprinkle of irritation. You linger near JJ, pretending to review files as you process whatever it is you’re feeling.

Whatever it is, you’re pretty sure you don’t like it.

You find Hotch engrossed in a quiet conversation with Rossi. His focus is razor-sharp, as always, but you can’t shake the nagging irritation from earlier. The question has been bouncing around in your head ever since you introduced yourself to Kate, and you know it’s not going to leave you alone until you address it.

Taking a steadying breath, you make your way over. Rossi catches your approach and gives you a brief nod before excusing himself, leaving you and Hotch alone.

“Aaron,” you say, keeping your voice calm, and casual.

He turns to you, brow furrowing slightly. “Everything all right?”

“Fine,” you reply, though the word feels tight on your tongue. You cross your arms, looking him straight in the eye. “I just wanted to ask—was there a reason you didn’t introduce me earlier? To Kate?”

For a split second, his expression tenses, as though he’s surprised by the question. Then his features settle back into that familiar neutrality. “It wasn’t intentional,” he says curtly.

You raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t feel that way.”

He exhales, glancing toward Kate’s office as if to gauge whether you’ll be overheard. “I was focused on the case, on briefing her about the team. It wasn’t a deliberate omission.”

You tilt your head, studying him. His explanation makes sense—you’ve seen how single-minded he can get when it comes to work. But still, something about being overlooked like that doesn’t sit right.

“Okay,” you say after a moment, your tone lighter now. “But for the record, being left out isn’t exactly a great feeling. Especially when everyone else got the full introduction.”

Hotch’s gaze meets yours, steady and sincere. “You’re right,” he says, and there’s no defensiveness in his voice—just a quiet acknowledgment. “It won’t happen again.”

You nod, satisfied—for now. But just as you’re about to say something else, Kate’s voice cuts through the air, pulling both of your attention toward her office.

“Aaron?” she calls, standing in the doorway, her tone brisk and professional. “Could I borrow you for a moment?”

Hotch glances at her, then back at you. There’s a flicker of hesitation like he’s not quite ready to end the conversation.

“We’ll finish this later,” he says quietly, almost as though it’s a promise.

“Sure,” you reply, forcing a small smile as he heads toward Kate’s office.

You try to focus on the file in your hands, but your gaze keeps drifting toward Kate’s office, where Hotch is standing. The blinds are partially open, giving you an unobstructed view as they talk. It’s nothing inappropriate—just two professionals discussing a case—but something about the way he stands so close to her, his posture relaxed but attentive, gnaws at you.

She says something, and he nods, his expression calm and composed. You can’t hear them, but the way Kate gestures, assured and poised, makes it clear she’s the one leading the conversation. It shouldn’t bother you. It’s work. It’s Hotch being Hotch—focused, professional, unreadable.

Still, you can’t seem to stop watching.

“Tell me it’s not just me,” Derek’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. He’s leaning against a desk nearby, arms crossed as he follows your line of sight.

You blink, trying to shake off the weight in your chest. “What do you mean?”

He tilts his head toward the office. “Her. Joyner.” His mouth pulls into a slight frown. “Something about her makes me feel uneasy. Can’t quite put my finger on it yet, but…”

You glance at him, surprised. For a moment, you consider agreeing outright, but your reasons feel different—murkier—than his.

“I don’t know,” you say carefully, tearing your gaze away from the office window. “Maybe it’s just her style. She’s confident and assertive. Maybe that throws people off.”

Derek gives you a look, one that says he knows you’re deflecting. “Nah. It’s more than that. She’s got this energy. It's ikeshe’s not afraid to step on toes. It puts me on edge.”

You hum in response, keeping your eyes on the case file now instead of the window. “Or maybe it’s just because she’s new and already running point.”

It’s a plausible enough answer, but you can’t help the tug of discomfort in your chest, the one that’s been sitting there since Hotch introduced her—since she called him Aaron.

Derek doesn’t let it go so easily this time. He pushes off the desk and strolls over, dropping a heavy hand onto your shoulder with a grin. “She’s not my Y/N. You’ll be bossing us all around soon, even Hotch.”

You snort at that, shaking your head as his words pull a reluctant smile from you. “Oh, please.”

“I’m serious.” He pulls you into a brief, reassuring hug, his voice low and genuine. “Give it time, hot stuff. Nobody’s got what you’ve got, and don’t you forget it.”

His words settle something in you, even if only a little. When you glance back toward Kate’s office again, you don’t linger. You still feel that tug—something strange—but maybe Derek’s right.

Maybe it’s not about her at all. Maybe it’s about you and where you’re headed.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

For the first time in months, Hotch has assigned you to work separately from him. It’s odd—like a piece of your routine has shifted without warning. Adjusting isn’t easy, but you remind yourself that versatility is part of the job. Still, you can’t shake the feeling that his decision wasn’t entirely random.

At the field office, you’re working with Emily and Spencer, pouring over files and maps. The case feels impossible—five neighborhoods, five victims, no clear connection. Every lead seems to dissolve as quickly as it appears.

“Okay,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair. “Five victims, five locations, zero correlation. It’s maddening.”

Emily nods, tapping her pen against the table. “Tell me about it. Could this really be random?”

Spencer shakes his head. “No such thing as true randomness, not in cases like this. The Unsub is making deliberate choices. We’re just not seeing the pattern yet.”

You glance at the map, your frustration brewing. “What if the victims aren’t the point? What if this isn’t about who they are but what they represent? This could be a test—a way for the Unsub to refine their methods before escalating.”

Spencer pauses, considering your theory. “That would explain the lack of a clear victimology. If this is a precursor to something bigger, they don’t need specific targets yet.”

Emily raises an eyebrow. “So we’re dealing with someone in training. That’s comforting.”

You gesture to the map. “Think about it. Hell’s Kitchen, Murray Hill, Chinatown, East Harlem. These aren’t personal locations for the victims, but they’re all high-traffic areas. If this is a test, the Unsub is challenging themselves—choosing chaotic places where they can prove they’re in control.”

Spencer nods slowly. “It fits. The precision of the killings—broad daylight, crowded areas, no witnesses who can pin them at the scene. They’re perfecting their process.”

Emily sighs, crossing her arms. “And when they decide they’re ready? What then?”

“They’ll escalate,” you say grimly. “Target specific victims, make bigger statements, maybe both.”

Spencer taps his pen against the desk. “If this is a test, we’re looking for patterns that have nothing to do with the victims. Timing, locations, routes in and out of the crime scenes.”

Emily leans back. “So we’re chasing ghosts. Great.”

You glance at the files again, determination hardening in your chest. “Maybe we’re thinking too much like investigators. If we want to stop this, we need to think like the Unsub. What are they getting out of this?”

Spencer’s eyes light up as he nods. “If we figure that out, we can predict their next move.”

Emily sighs, brushing a hand through her hair. “Looks like another long night staring at maps. Lucky us.”

You smirk faintly, trying to lighten the mood. “Glamorous life of the BAU.”

Spencer smiles briefly, but you can see the wheels turning in his mind. You glance back at the map, if this Unsub wants to play a game, you’re going to make sure they lose.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

Another killing. Another killing, and somehow, Hotch remembered to inform everyone but you. You arrive at the scene, scanning the cluster of agents and officers until your eyes land on Hotch. He’s standing next to Kate, speaking quietly, while the rest of the team is scattered nearby. You linger on the edge of the scene, unsure whether to join them or not.

Derek notices you first and heads your way, his brow furrowed. “Where were you, hot stuff?”

You let out a scoff. “Funny, I was wondering the same about all of you.”

He tilts his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“No one told me there was another killing,” you say, your tone sharper than you intended. “I was sent to look into some security footage—missing timestamps from the last murder—and when I got back, everyone was gone. No message, no call, nothing.” You shift from one leg to the other, the frustration bubbling to the surface.

Derek places his hands on your shoulders, his voice steady. “Talk to me.”

You glance over at Hotch, then back at Derek, hesitating. “I just don’t get it,” you admit, your voice quieter now. “On every other case, Hotch makes a point of keeping me in the loop. He’s always made sure I feel like part of the team. But the second we land here, it’s like I don’t even exist. He forgets to introduce me, doesn’t give me a clear assignment, and now I’m out of the loop on major developments. It’s bull crap.”

Derek’s eyes soften. “You need to talk to him.”

You shake your head. “Why should I? He won’t talk to me. So what’s the point?”

“Because you’re stronger than this,” Derek says firmly, pulling you into a quick side hug. “And because letting it stew won’t do you any good. You’re a badass, hot stuff. He knows it, I know it, and soon enough, the whole damn field office will know it too.”

Despite your frustration, his words draw a reluctant smile from you. “You think?”

He grins. “I know.”

For the rest of the day, Derek stays close, making sure you’re involved in conversations and helping you stay engaged with the case. His steady presence eases the frustration building up inside you, but every time you glance at Hotch and Kate, the knot in your chest tightens again.

What you don’t notice is how often Hotch’s gaze shifts toward you—always quick, always subtle—but Derek sees it. He catches it the third time and leans in with a grin. “He’s watching you, you know.”

You look up at him, confused. “What?”

Derek smirks. “Hotch. He’s been glancing your way all day. Maybe he’s finally realizing he’s been neglecting you.”

You sneer, brushing it off. “He’s just focused on the case.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, not convinced. “I don’t think that’s all of it.”

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

As the team regroups back at the field office, Emily signals that there’s new surveillance footage to review. She pulls up the most recent shooting first, then switches to the footage from the previous murder.

“This is the latest shooting,” Emily says, then switches the footage. “And this is from the previous one. Anything stand out?”

Derek squints at the screen, leaning forward. “He sprints off in one, and walks calmly in the other.”

You nod, your mind racing. “It’s two entirely different demeanors.”

As Garcia shows you her analyzed footage, a thought starts to form. You look at the images more closely and it hits you.

“We’ve got more than one unsub,” you say at the same time as Hotch, your words overlapping.

You both glance at each other briefly before quickly looking away.

“This fits perfectly with what Y/N profiled earlier,” Emily says, looking between you and Hotch.

Hotch turns toward you, his gaze steady. “Care to share?”

You feel a flash of frustration at his sudden interest—finally giving you a chance to speak. You bite back the urge to snap and instead take a deep breath. You’ve been holding this theory all day, and now it feels like you’re finally being heard, but not without the irritation of waiting so long.

“The victims aren’t being targeted. They’re just part of something bigger. I think these killings are a test," You take a deep breath, " after the last killing, I think they’re testing something. It’s not about the victims, they're collateral to them—it’s about the timing, the reactions. I think this is all just a distraction from their end goal.”

The room falls silent, the weight of your words settling over the team.

Kate nods thoughtfully. “Do you think we have enough for a working profile?”

You glance at Hotch, hoping for some acknowledgment.

He meets your eyes briefly before turning back to the team. “I think we need to go in a different direction with the profile. Let’s focus on refining the behavior patterns we’ve seen so far.”

Your stomach tightens as he brushes past your theory without a second glance. You stay silent, the words you want to say sticking in your throat. You had worked hard on that profile, and now it feels as if it’s been dismissed without much thought.

As the team begins to disperse, you try to shake off the aggravation that rises in your chest.

Derek steps into your personal space, his voice lowered so only you can hear. “You need to talk to him, Y/N. Don’t let this simmer.”

You hesitate, biting your lip, unsure. “I don’t know if it’ll even matter.”

Derek places a hand on your shoulder, his gaze steady as he looks you in the eye. “Trust me. It will. Talk to him.”

Your heart races at the thought of confronting Hotch, but Derek gives you one last reassuring smile before shifting his focus back to the case.

You find Hotch standing near the whiteboard, looking over the latest updates. The sight of him, the way he stands so tall and composed, only makes the knot in your stomach tighten. You’ve been avoiding this moment for too long, but Derek’s words keep echoing in your mind. You can’t let it go on any longer.

You take a deep breath, making your way toward him. The sound of your footsteps seems to get louder the closer you get, and for a moment, you hesitate. But you push through, walking up to him with purpose.

“Hotch,” you say, your voice stable, though there’s a trace of annoyance that you can’t quite mask.

He turns to face you, his expression neutral but his eyes betraying a touch of surprise. “Y/N,” he responds, his voice tranquil, as always.

“I need to talk to you,” you begin, your tone a bit blunter than intended.

His brow furrows slightly, but he nods, gesturing toward the office. “Let’s go.”

Once inside, you close the door behind you, feeling the weight of the space between the two of you.

“What’s going on?” he asks, his voice low and controlled.

You take a breath before speaking, the words tumbling out before you can second-guess them. “Why haven’t you been including me? I’ve been sidelined, Hotch. You completely disregarded introducing me as a member of the team, didn’t give me a proper assignment, and even kept me in the dark about updates. Now, you don't even consider my profile. I don’t get it.”

Hotch’s eyes darken slightly, and he exhales slowly like he’s been expecting this. “It’s not about you, Y/N. It’s about Kate.”

You blink, caught off guard by his response. “Kate?” you repeat, your voice rising in disbelief. “What the hell does Kate have to do with this?”

Hotch shifts, clearly uncomfortable. “She’s been under a lot of pressure from higher-ups. Her job’s on the line, and the two top contenders for her role are you and Derek. She sees you as the biggest threat. You're new blood and rising fast in rank among the top FBI prospects.”

Anger flares in your chest. “So you’re just going to let her undermine me because you don’t want to hurt her feelings? You’re sacrificing me and the team for her job security? What about the safety of innocent people if my profile is right? Because I know it is.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt, so you continue, your voice shaking with bitterness. “I’ve worked my ass off to prove myself, Hotch. I’m not some fragile rookie, I’m part of this team. I don’t even want the damn job, but for you to throw me under the bus to spare her feelings? That’s not just wrong—it’s disrespectful.”

You can see the conflict on his face, but it only makes you more upset. “And you want to know the worst part? For someone who’s supposed to be one of the best profilers out there, you have zero concept of how to be a good friend. You’re so focused on making sure everyone else is okay that you’re neglecting the people who actually have your back.”

The words hang between you, sharp and raw. Hotch doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze intense as if he’s trying to process everything you just said. It feels like an eternity before he speaks.

“I’m not trying to make you feel insignificant, Y/N,” he says, his voice more delicate now, tinged with regret. “I didn’t want to add more pressure to Kate. I didn’t want her to lose focus. I wanted to protect the team.”

“I get that you’re trying to protect her,” you cut in, your frustration still simmering. “But Hotch, please remember that I had other job offers before joining the BAU—offers I worked years to even be considered for. I chose the BAU because I wanted to, not because I had to. I’d like to pull my weight here. You said it yourself—I have nothing to prove.”

Hotch stands up, closing the distance between you. His eyes searching yours for any sign of understanding. “I’m sorry. I should’ve handled it differently.”

“You should’ve been honest with me,” you say, the offense still lacing your words, though it’s starting to fade. “Don’t sacrifice me, Hotch. I’m not asking for special treatment, I’m asking for respect.”

With that, you turn to leave, the door clicking softly behind you. But before you step out, you pause, glancing back at him one last time.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

You and the team arrive back at the hotel, and you find yourself lazing in the lobby, doing your best to avoid Hotch. Then you spot Will LaMontagne, JJ’s boyfriend, sitting off to the side.

“JJ?” you ask, gesturing over to him.

“Will!” she says, but her voice doesn’t quite match her usual tone of surprise. It’s more apprehensive.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this,” Will says, clearly uncomfortable. “I know you’re working, but… I can’t stand you being on this case and me not being there.”

Hotch steps forward, ever the professional. “Is something the matter?”

JJ takes a deep breath before turning to you all. “Uh… I’m pregnant.”

You and Emily gasp in unison and rush over to her, enveloping her in a tight hug. “Congratulations!” you both exclaim, genuinely excited for her.

Will then drops a quiet bombshell, revealing that he’s also asked JJ to marry him.

“Well, uh, we’ll give you both some privacy,” Hotch says his demeanor different. Something’s weighing on him since your conversation back at the office. He quickly excuses himself, and JJ follows after him.

You make your way to the bar, where Derek is already seated. You take a seat next to him, your thoughts still tangled in the events of the day.

“Did you know?” you ask, looking at him.

Derek tilts his head, confused. “Did I know what?”

“When you told me to talk to Hotch, did you know why he sidelined me?” you question.

He shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. “No, I didn’t. I just hate seeing him treat the one person who really gets through to him like this.”

“Well,” you chuckle softly, “after I finished with him, I don’t think anything’s changed. You gonna take the job?”

“That’s why I’m here,” he replies. “Rossi asked to talk with me about it.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Well, it’s yours. They’d never choose me now, anyway. That’s what I don’t get about her jealousy. I’m too young, too new. Now, replacing you? That’s a different story. I’m coming for your spot in a couple of years.”

He laughs, handing you his drink. “You never fail to make me smile, hot stuff.” He pauses for a moment before leaning in a little, his voice lowering. “Now tell me, what did you say to Hotch in there?”

You groan, regretting the onslaught of words. “I told him that for one of the greatest profilers in the world, he has no clue how to be a good friend.”

“Damn,” Morgan smiles, his eyes wide with admiration. “Respect.”

You can’t help but smirk. “Even if I did have a shot at that job, he definitely won’t be recommending me now.”

Derek grabs his drink back and takes a slow sip of his drink, swirling it in his glass before answering. “Something tells me he wouldn’t have, anyway. I don’t think he wants you leaving his team.”

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

The next day, another shooting occurs. Even worse, the detective Emily was paired with was shot during the pursuit of the unsub. Thankfully, Emily managed to take him down.

At the scene, you and Derek approach Emily, eager to hear her side of the story.

“I shouldn’t have had to shoot him,” she says, her voice tinged with disturbance. “He was ahead of us. He would have gotten away, but he stopped and waited.”

You scramble to connect the dots to your profile, trusting your instincts that you’re still on the right track.

Emily continues, “His hands were steady. His eyes were dead calm. These guys have been hyper-vigilant, organized. They do pre-surveillance. What are the odds they’d shoot someone two blocks from where Cooper and I were standing?”

“It was deliberate,” you say, the pieces finally falling into place. “He knew you were there.”

“It’s almost like suicide by cop,” she concludes, her tone heavy.

You rush to find Hotch and Rossi, finally catching sight of them. “Hotch, my profile…”

Rossi cuts you off. “She’s on the right track. We have multiple unsubs. They’re disciplined, using counter-surveillance. They know the FBI’s movements. There’s a hierarchy. What does that usually mean?”

Hotch turns to you, his expression grave. “Terrorism.”

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

Back in the office, the team gathers to present the profile, though it’s clear they’re pulling heavily from the theory you provided earlier. Emily steps forward to address the group.

“The murderers simulate a bombing,” she begins. “They station someone to watch and gauge police response times. Once they have the timing down, they know when the perfect time would be to deploy a second bomb to target first responders and civilians alike.”

Derek nods thoughtfully. “It’s organized, calculated. Just like Y/N said, it’s all a practice run.”

Spencer adds, “The precision makes sense. They’re testing variables: response times, panic levels, and procedural weaknesses. It’s not just random—it’s tactical.”

Kate folds her arms. “It’s lo-fi but brilliant. A perfect way to plan for a larger terrorist event. Good work.”

You remain silent at the back of the room, arms crossed as you listen. The profile is solid—but something feels off, a subtle gap they’re missing. The foundation is yours, but the execution isn’t quite there. The unsub’s true intent still eludes them, and you can feel it, grinding at the edges of your mind.

Hotch steps in. “Keep in mind, this is just a working theory. We’ll adjust as more evidence comes in.”

Your jaw tightens at his words. That’s it—no acknowledgment of your initial input, no recognition for the groundwork you laid. Just the same dismissive tone, the same lack of validation. Your irritation builds beneath the surface as the team begins to disperse.

Derek claps you on the shoulder as he passes. “Good work, hot stuff. Don’t let it get to you. We couldn't have done this without you.”

Spencer offers a small nod, his quiet approval something you’ve come to appreciate. Emily flashes you a brief, supportive smile, while Kate exits with her usual morale, already discussing next steps with Rossi.

You linger, watching as Hotch strides toward the hallway, Kate falling into step beside him. Their voices are low, and professional, but seeing him leave without so much as a glance in your direction feels like a punch to the gut.

The room empties, leaving you alone with your thoughts. They’re close—but not close enough. The missing pieces feel just out of reach, and the weight of being unheard settles heavily over you.

Nothing has changed.

Hours pass, and the office quiets. You’re alone with your thoughts, replaying everything in your head, when suddenly you hear the sound of hurried footsteps. You glance up and see an officer rush to the television, changing the channel.

“Explosion in Manhattan—” the newscaster begins, but before he can continue, you’re already on your feet, adrenaline surging.

You reach for your phone, dialing Garcia’s number, but before it rings, the officer shouts, “Federal Plaza. FBI field office 26.”

Your stomach drops.

You can’t breathe.

Garcia picks up on the second ring. “Y/N, I—”

“Tell me who was there,” you demand, your voice tight with panic.

“I don’t know,” she answers, a shakiness in her voice. “But we’re trying to get the footage. Just… just hold on.”

You don’t wait. You’re already running for the door, heart pounding in your chest.

The cold reality of the situation crashes over you, but you can’t stop now.

As you rush to your car, Garcia’s voice crackles through the phone: “Y/N, I—wait, I have it. It’s… Hotch. And Kate.”

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wisedelusionalmarshmallow · 2 days ago

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@rosekillermicrofic, December 5th - Reveal, G, Word Count - 399

Arriving at his dorm, Evan found Barty curled up on his bed. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight; the boy quite often found comfort near Evan and his things. But today felt off. There was something different in the air.

He gently sits on his bed, beside Barty, and curls up next to him. He can feel Barty’s heavy and laboured breathing. They were lying face to face, but Barty’s visage was hidden by his hair.

Evan pulls Barty’s hair back, revealing his teary eyes. That’s what was off. “Baby,” he coos, pushing his hands to the back of his neck, holding the crying boy closer to him. “What’s all this for, hmm?”

“N—no, I’m, I’m okay. Just give me—a second,” he evades, looking away from his boyfriend, handily coming up to quickly wipe the tears, hiding the evidence.

“Barty. Talk to me,” Evan presses, still cradling his head, forcing him to look forward.

A frustrated look comes over Barty’s face before he’s blubbering again, leaning into Evan’s touch. Hot tears roll down his face, absorbing into both of their shirts. Evan just gives him his time, lets him get it all out. Comforting hands rubbing up and down his back, trying to soothe the pain from his lover.

With Evan’s comforting, Barty calms down enough to start explaining the issue. “I just—I feel like I can’t do anything right. I feel like I should be doing more for people or my classes or—”

“Baby. Where’s this coming from?” Evan asks, shifting so that he’s closer to Barty. “You’re on track to get all outstandings again this year. You’ve got a lovely friend group; you have me. So why are you feeling this way?”

“I—I don’t know. I just—I feel comfortable. I feel happy, and every other time that’s happened, it’s been taken away from me. Is it bad to want to cling to that? I just want to do everything I can so I can have this forever,” Barty admits, looking down between the two of them.

The revelation broke Evan’s heart. Of course, he’s scared of good things. Well—scared of losing good things. He just wants control over his life, something he’s never been given before.

Tilting Barty’s head up again, the boys make eye contact. “I won’t let you lose this,” Evan whispers. And he means it. “Ever.”

Barty nods, swallowing the rest of his tears. “Okay.”

#rosekiller #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #microfic #december 2024 #evan rosier x barty crouch jr #the slytherin skittles #reveal #marauders

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writingdevil · 2 days ago

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Tongues and Teeth PT.4 (STP)

(Fair warning-Cold is one of the two voices that I'm probably going to have trouble writing,so I apologize if I butcher his character)

Paranoid jumped off the rock,spinning around to try and spot the newcomer,useless wings wrapped around him for protection.He did a full rotation without seeing anyone,and he stopped,brows furrowed in confusion as he stared at the trees around him,until the stranger spoke up,"On your right."

He twisted his head to the right,the dimming of the sun making it hard to see anything,but when he squinted his eyes,he managed to catch a flash of movement.A blink.

That was when he realised that there was one of them here,leaning against a tree with his arms crossed,dark feathers blending perfectly into the growing darkness.

The bird tilted his head to the side as he said,"Hello there,"with frost exhaling from his mouth.There was only one voice that could be.

"Cold."

"Paranoid."

"How long have you been there?"Cold shrugged, and Paranoid asked,"Have you seen any of the others?"Cold took a second to think,then said,"I don't remember how long ago it was,but I did see Hero at some point."

Paranoid stepped forward in shock and longing, wringing his hands together,the ache in his heart growing bigger.Cold noticed,and only raised a brow at his reaction,but he couldn't help it.

He would only feel truly safe and okay once he found Hero.He couldn't explain it,but Hero just felt like safety,like nothing was beyond repair if he was there.It might have to do with the fact that Hero seemed closer to the Decider than the rest of them.

"Was he alright?Did you see where he went?"Cold shrugged,looking away."Not sure.He seemed to be in a hurry,but I decided that seeing what this new form could do was more interesting."Paranoid swallowed his scream of frustration,because this was just how Cold behaved.

He took a deep breath in."How are you enjoying your new form?"

"How are you enjoying yours?"

"It's awful,"he tucked his wings behind his back, hoping Cold didn't care enough to pay attention to it,"Now I have to actually worry about me,and the rest of you reckless idiots."

"I noticed Opportunist drop you here.You've been busy,haven't you?"He could've sworn that Cold's eyes darkened."Has he already tried one of his schemes on you?"

Paranoid clenched his fists,feeling Cold's eyes freezing him to the spot."We're just trying to gather everyone.There's me,Opportunist and Contrarian-and now you,technically."

"Oh?"Cold said,and finally pushed himself off the tree,strolling up to him in a relaxed manner,walking into the light so that Paranoid could see him better.He noticed that Cold's feathers were slightly on the thinner side,but not as bad as Paranoid's, and in the light,he noticed that the hue of his feathers actually looked a little lighter compared to everyone else so far.

He kept his arms behind his back,making Paranoid feel smaller than an ant as he said,"What makes you think I want to come with you?"Paranoid gulped, because he knew that convincing Cold to do something he had no interest in was an impossible task,especially now that they weren't simply voices fighting for control anymore.Cold could quite literally wander off to do whatever he wanted.

Paranoid chuckled,trying to come off as self-assured,but it only sounded anxious.He gestured around them."What?Is some dirt and trees enough to keep you in one place for this long?"

"Maybe."What?

Now he was really confused,because that didn't sound like Cold at all.There was no way that he was fascinated with the forest that much. Experimenting with his new body?Yes.Standing in a forest that they've seen plenty of times?No way.

Paranoid lowered his wings,trying to come up with a way to talk to Cold and get him to join them.But Cold had always been an enigma to Paranoid-their whole argument about pain was clear evidence of that.But Paranoid refused to give up-the thought of dying at the hands of her, was enough to send him snapping at anyone trying to make dumb and impulsive decisions.

But...none of that mattered anymore,did it?He could never successfully get the Decider to avoid all the horror that He went through,all the pain and trauma.Paranoid couldn't even escape from a monster without help now!

He wasn't as useful as he once was.Or had he ever been useful,considering all the agony they suffered?

"Oh,"Cold said,bringing Paranoid back to reality, "there's that look again.How odd.I don't think I've ever seen you look like that before."

Paranoid sighed,ignoring the comment."So you don't want to join us,I take it?"Cold hummed,then said,"Not right now."

"Why?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why?Tell me what's more interesting than watching us fumble around and try to get used to this new situation.I'd have thought that would've been perfect entertainment for you."

Cold blinked,silent for a moment,then let a heavy sigh out,cold air disappearing into the dying light. "Preferably,I would keep going until I found something that made me feel-something more,but it appears that solid bodies have...limits."

"Oh?So you're just tired?"

"I guess you could call it that."Cold backed away, until he was leaning against the tree again."For now, I'm happy to wait,until I get too bored again.Then I'll see what this place has to offer."

Paranoid made sure to not mention the creature he just encountered.

So Cold was just tired?He was just waiting for the energy to go out and try and feel something again?That was more understandable to him,but something in the back of his head was whispering doubts.Was Cold really someone to care about limits?He didn't even care about being killed by the Princess that much!

Paranoid took a step forward,and Cold didn't react. But he took another step forward,almost closing the distance between them,and then Cold asked, "What are you doing?"in that sharp yet soft voice of his,turning his head to look away from him.

But why ask?Why not see what Paranoid would do?Why was Cold-holding back,in a way?

Paranoid sighed in frustration,and that was when he noticed Cold's breath,thanks to the frost.He would've thought that Cold would be taking long, relaxed breaths,just waiting for the time to move again.But his breaths were coming out in quick, short bursts,as if he was trying to get to heart under control.But why would-oh.

That was when he realised-Cold wasn't bored and just waiting for something interesting to happen.He was overwhelmed,a feeling Paranoid was quite familiar with.

He once thought that Cold would love all these new things he got to explore-but perhaps he was wrong, and he wasn't as numb as he'd like to be anymore.

But the realisation must have shown on Paranoid's face,because Cold furrowed his brows,and without taking his gaze away from him,slammed his elbow into the tree behind him,causing an owl to cry out and fly away,and for Paranoid to yell out.

"Fucking hell!"he exclaimed,hands coming up to clutch at the feathers near his head,jumping back a good ten feet from Cold,who's smugness Paranoid could feel.

His body shook,and he placed his hands over his pounding heart,softly muttering to himself,"Heart, lungs,liver,nerves,"over and over again until he got his body under control and he no longer felt in danger.

At least his chant,despite everything else,seemed to be normal.

When he came to,Cold was giving him a curious look,and ignored Paranoid's glare as he said,"Tell me how you do that."

Paranoid sighed,but opened his mouth to explain it, a habit from teaching Hero,until an idea popped into his head.

Opportunist got Contrarian on board by poking at his ego,to make him want to be with them.Maybe Paranoid can do the same here.

So he looked Cold in his dark,unreadable eyes and said,"No."

For a brief moment,a look of genuine surprise came over Cold's features,before falling back into his usual blank mask.

"No?"Cold repeated,intrigue in his tone now."No," Paranoid said,crossing his arms and looking away, in the hopes that Cold didn't see the anxiety in his eyes."I don't think I feel like it."Then he shrugged, feigning indifference."You probably wouldn't get it anyways."

He held that position for a few seconds,until he felt footsteps approach him,and he took a deep breath, willing his worries to go away,and he turned just as Cold walked up to him.

He unfortunately towered over Paranoid.It was eerily quiet as they stared each other down, Paranoid having to crane his neck back to even properly look at him-so close that their chest feathers were touching

They held each other's gazes,and Cold didn't seem to blink,an intensity in his stare that had Paranoid's knees wobbling,but he held firm.

This should've been the moment that Paranoid turned around and left him wanting more,like with Contrarian.The longer he stayed there though,the quicker Cold would call his bluff,or give up entirely.

But at this proximity,Paranoid could clearly see the slight tremor in the other's body,the clouded, almost unfocused look in his eyes.Cold hid it well, but Paranoid knew when someone was overstimulated,from his own experiences and with helping Hero through his own struggles.

He couldn't look away,pretend to not care.He did care,even if Cold acted like he didn't,and he wouldn't feel right leaving him all alone in these woods.The thought made his stomach turn.

Cold may act numb,but a body doesn't lie.

"You're not as untouchable as you think you are," Paranoid said,clenching his fists tight to keep him on the spot.Cold merely leaned closer,and asked in a teasing manner,"What are you going to do about it?"

Neither of them said anything for a few seconds-until Paranoid sighed.

"Sit down,"he instructed,lowering himself to the ground.Cold looked at him for a second or two,then shrugged and sat down across from him.

"Give me your hand,"he softly ordered,holding his own hand out expectedly,palm facing up.Cold didn't tear his eyes away from Paranoid,yet still gently placed his hand in his.

"Are you teaching me your chant?"

"No."Paranoid closed his fingers around Cold's hands,immediately noticing how thin and bony they were,and he felt how they shook slightly in his grip.He was also freezing,but he figured that that was normal for the other bird.

"Close your eyes,"he said,and he waited until Cold obliged,before doing the same himself.For once, Paranoid actually felt sure of what he was doing as he said,"Take a deep breath in,hold it for four seconds,then breathe out for five seconds."He did it as well,and was pleasantly surprised to hear Cold copy him.

He rubbed a thumb over Cold's knuckles and whispered,"Now do it again."They breathed in sync, letting nothing but the sounds of the forest consume them,and Paranoid,even though this was for Cold,felt his own muscles relax and his wings lower to the ground.A part of him wanted to stay in this little bubble of peace forever.

But still,at some point,Cold's hand stopped shaking,and Paranoid whispered,"Open your eyes."

What he saw,was still Cold's blank face,but there was now a lightness in his eyes that hadn't been there before.He gave the other a small smile and said,"One day,I'll show you the chant,but right now you needed something else."

Cold said nothing,and Paranoid was about to let go, but before he could,Cold suddenly yanked him forward,and Paranoid yelped as their faces were now inches away from each other,and he couldn't bring himself to look away from Cold's intense stare.

Paranoid didn't dare speak-and then he felt a gentle squeeze from Cold.

A thank you.

Paranoid was too stunned to speak,as Cold let go of his hand and leaned back,content to sit there in silence.

However,Paranoid had too many strong emotions to speak right now.He thought that he was worthless in this new form now,no longer able to perform the way he used to,no longer able to protect the way he used to.But he was wrong.

He may be in an entirely new and unpredictable situation,and dealing with things that he never had to before,but he was still him.Just because he couldn't do certain things,doesn't mean that he can't do other things that are extremely valuable to his flock.The skills he has still matter,now more than ever.

A warmth spread through him at the realisation,and a soft smile was beginning to grow on his face when-

"Look out!"

Suddenly,a dark figure burst through the foliage, and Paranoid yelled out in fright,but still scrambled to his feet,with Cold in tow-although not as frantically.

The figure ran on all fours,running in circles around the area,until it stopped and pressed its back against a tree,and then Paranoid realised that it was Hunted.

His whole body was shaking violently,claws digging into the bark of the tree as his eyes darted around, never lingering on one place for too long,with his feathers sticking out in all directions.

Paranoid looked back to where he had emerged from,to find Contrarian had pushed Oppy to the ground,presumably to avoid Hunted,and a Stubborn looming above them just brimming with energy and aggression.

Stubborn looked to be as tall as Cold was,but where Cold was skinny,Stubborn was bulky,with sharp claws just itching to fight something.He was twisting his head around madly,a feral grin on his face as he said,"Where is he?!Where is that little pipsqueak?!"

"What is going on here?"Paranoid demanded,and Stubborn's attention immediately shifted to him, but his face twisted in disappointment."I'm looking for that little rat!Have you seen him?"

Paranoid knew he was talking about Hunted,but he didn't dare look over and give away his place in the shadows,the moon high in the air at this point.

"Why?Has something happened?"

"Yeah,and it's the fact that we haven't fought yet!"

"You want to fight Hunted?"Oppy asked in confusion,being pulled to his feet by an equally confused Contrarian.

Stubborn just gave them all a hungry grin full of teeth."Yeah!Now that I've got this body all to myself,I can really challenge it,and since the Princesses are gone and I haven't seen Hero boy around,that pipsqueak is the only worthy opponent left!"

"Did he want to fight you?"Oppy asked,and Stubborn sighed sharply."No!All he cared about was finding you lot!He wouldn't fight me all!"

Contrarian snorted."So you decided to just chase him around?Him?Hunted?"

"Well what other choice did I have?"

"Leave him alone,maybe!"Paranoid snapped,and Stubborn just glared at him."Why?What else is there to do other than to fight to see what we can take?"

"So you just want to punch things again?How unoriginal,"Cold commented with a roll of his eyes, and Stubborn let out a snarl at him."Well I'm sure as hell not gonna sit around and do nothing with this freedom,am I?"Before Paranoid could speak,he waved them all away."Whatever.I'm off to find the little runt.Don't bother me until I've fought and beaten him."With that,Stubborn stomped away.

Everyone was too shocked to speak,but then Paranoid heard a small sound coming from Hunted, and when he brought his attention back to him, dread filled his chest and made him rush over to him,as he realized Hunted was having a panic attack.

"Hunted,"he softly called,kneeling in front of him, but Hunted wouldn't respond,his eyes staring into nothing as his breathing came out in short,painful looking bursts.

There was no way he could calm him down like he had with Cold.But there was one thing he could do.

Paranoid took a deep breath in,placing one of his hands over Hunted's rapidly beating heart,and directing Hunted's hand over Paranoid's own,and with that,everything else fell to black.

"Heart.Lungs.Liver.Nerves."

His head tipped back,and there was only the feeling of blood rushing and a heart full of fear,but not of his own.Hunted's fear was like the whipping of wind,crashing and flinging about everywhere, twisting and turning,but with nowhere to go.

"Heart.Lungs.Liver.Nerves."His voice was firm yet calm as he spoke,willing the fear to leave Hunted,to see that he was safe,his flock was here and they were going to protect each other now.

It felt like hours had passed,but with one last whisper of his chant,and a promise that the danger had passed,Paranoid felt Hunted calm down.

He sighed in relief,letting their hands fall to their laps.It felt good-in a weird way-to do his chant again,despite the tense predicaments that it's needed for.

He slowly lowered his head to face Hunted,to find him staring at Paranoid with an animalistic intensity,but he knew he wasn't in danger.

Especially when Hunted gently cupped his face,and pressed their foreheads together.

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chrisstvrns · 2 days ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖: 𝐁𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍 ⊹₊✮˙

aurora's matt sturniolo & fangirl!reader au

warnings: fast moving relationship, use of y/n, second person pov.

disclaimer: i did not go to either of the triplets’ tours, so i do not know how they worked, and i included barely any description of the actual show lmao. this is a long one im sorryyyyy.

word count: 6.3k

you’re awoken by the sounds of chris and nick’s giggles, followed by the sound of matt’s tired voice, mumbling for them to ‘shut the fuck up.’

you’re facing the wall, your eyes gently fluttered open. the first thing that registers in your mind is the feeling of a body next to you, then realizing it’s matt.

for a second, your brain doesn’t quite piece it together. the warmth radiating from him, the steady rise and fall of his breathing—it all feels too comfortable, too natural. but then it hits you, and you stiffen slightly. you both must’ve knocked out while watching that dumb movie last night, the one matt insisted wasn’t boring, even though he fell asleep halfway through.

his arm is slung lazily over your waist, not in an intimate way, but more like he’s forgotten you’re even there. you consider moving, but the thought of waking him fully and having to explain feels way more awkward than just… waiting it out. besides, it’s not like this means anything. you’re just friends.

still, the sound of chris and nick’s whispers—followed by more giggles—makes your face heat up. you can already tell they’re gonna give you shit for this.

you try to focus on anything else, your eyes tracing patterns in the wall, but it’s no use.

matt shifts slightly, his hand brushing your side as he groans quietly.

“jesus, what time is it?” his voice is rough with sleep, and you swear it makes your heart skip a beat, though you quickly shake the thought away.

before you can answer, chris’ voice cuts through from the doorway.

“oh, it’s definitely time for us to take a picture of this.” you hear the unmistakable click of a phone camera, followed by nick trying (and failing) to hold in a cackle.

matt groans louder, burying his face into the pillow.

“i’m gonna kill both of you,” he mutters, his words muffled, but you can hear the underlying frustration—and maybe just a hint of embarrassment.

“yeah, yeah, sure. i cant wait to slap it on a christmas card” nick says, still laughing. “but seriously, this is adorable. can’t wait to tell everyone you guys are cuddling now.”

your face burns, and matt finally lifts his head to glare at them. “we’re not cuddling,” he snaps, his hand falling away from your waist like he just remembered it was there. “we just… fell asleep. shut up.”

but the damage is done, and chris and nick are already halfway down the hall, cackling like maniacs. you glance at matt, who’s rubbing his face with both hands, clearly trying to wake up properly.

“well,” you mumble, breaking the silence, “this isn’t awkward at all.”

matt lets out a dry laugh, dropping his hands to look at you. “could be worse.”

“how?”

“i dunno, its not the worst thing in the world.”

you groan, flopping back against the pillow as he smirks. even though you’re mortified, a small part of you is grateful for how easily he brushes it off. just friends. no big deal. right?

as you sit up, the clutter of the room reminds you that this isn’t some random hotel—it’s matt’s literal house. matt glances around, scratching the back of his neck. “i’ll head downstairs to get ready,” he says casually, like he’s trying not to make it weird. “you can have the room.”

you nod, grateful for the unspoken gesture. “thanks.”

he grabs his phone from the nightstand and heads for the door, pausing to shoot you a tired smile. “don’t take too long, though. if chris and nick get bored, they’ll probably try to sabotage something.”

“noted,” you reply, watching him disappear down the hallway.

once the door clicks shut, you exhale, the silence feeling oddly heavy after he leaves. shaking it off, you dig through your suitcase for an outfit. eventually, you settle on a long sleeved, black crop top, paired with baggy jeans and your favorite white sneakers. you brush your hair back into a neat ponytail, letting a few strands frame your face, and add small gold hoop earrings for a bit of sparkle. a dainty gold chain necklace completes the look, subtle but enough to make you feel put together.

downstairs, you can hear faint movement—probably matt in the bathroom, dealing with his hair or brushing off the sleep from his face.

when you finally head down, you spot him leaning against the kitchen counter, looking way more awake, now dressed in ripped jeans and a hoodie. his hair is damp, like he splashed water on it to tame the bedhead, and he’s sipping a mug of coffee while chris and nick argue over which shoes to wear.

“ready?” matt asks, his voice casual, but his eyes flick to you briefly, like he’s checking to make sure you’re okay.

you nod, shooting him a small smile.

he nods, pushing off the counter. “good. i, uh, i have something for you. if you want?”

he reaches in a target bag, pulling out a green ‘boston celtics’ jersey, handing it to you. you smile in disbelief, your fingers brushing the soft fabric of the jersey. "wait, really?" you ask, a surprised laugh escaping your lips.

matt shrugs casually, a playful smile tugging at his mouth. "yeah, i thought you might like it. everyone else is wearing one, so figured it'd be a fun way for you to join in."

you laugh, looking down at the jersey. "this is so cool, matt. i didn’t expect you to think of something like this."

"well, you’ve been hanging with us for a few days now. felt like it was time you got one too," he says with a grin, clearly pleased with himself.

you look up at him, the gesture meaning more than you expected. "thank you. i’ll definitely wear it today.”

you smile, holding the jersey close, feeling a little more at home with each passing moment. "this really is perfect," you say, already excited to wear it. you pull it over your head, brushing the front to smooth any wrinkles.

nick and chris stumble into the kitchen, and with that, the four of you pile into the chaos of the morning, gearing up for what’s bound to be a long—and unforgettable—final show.

as you all pile out the front door and toward the car, chris makes a beeline for the passenger seat, like he always does. it’s clearly routine for him to sit up front, but before he can even grab the handle, matt stops him.

“hey, no. you’re in the back this time,” matt says, unlocking the car with a beep.

chris turns around, his brows knitting together in exaggerated disbelief. “excuse me? since when?”

“since today,” matt replies casually, tilting his head toward you. “she’s sitting up front.”

chris groans, throwing his hands up. “you’re kicking me out? for her?”

matt raises an eyebrow, his tone flat. “yeah. problem?”

nick laughs as he climbs into the backseat, already enjoying the drama. “tough break, chris. guess you’re not the favorite anymore.”

chris glares at him, muttering something about betrayal, but he eventually shuffles to the back. “unbelievable,” he grumbles, slamming the door behind him.

you hesitate for a second, glancing at matt. “are you sure? i don’t want to—”

“get in,” matt interrupts, his tone firm but not unkind. “it’s fine.”

with a small nod, you slide into the passenger seat, trying not to overthink the gesture. it’s just a seat—no big deal. right?

the car ride starts off quiet, the kind of morning lull where everyone’s still waking up. chris and nick are already bickering over something in the backseat—probably who gets the last pack of gummy snacks in nick’s bag—and matt seems content to ignore them, his focus on the road.

“you excited for today?” you ask after a few minutes, breaking the silence.

matt shrugs, one hand resting loosely on the wheel, his head resting on the other as his elbow in propped up against the window. “yeah, should be fun. long, though.”

“you say that every time,” chris pipes up from the back. “and then you’re the one who spends the most time talking to people.”

“yeah, because i’m not a robot like you,” matt shoots back.

nick snickers. “matt’s just better at pretending he doesn’t hate people.”

“i don’t hate people,” matt says, rolling his eyes. “i just like talking to the ones who aren’t annoying.”

chris gasps dramatically. “so you do think our fans are annoying!”

“Jesus christ,” matt mutters, shaking his head as you try—and fail—not to laugh.

you glance out the window, the scenery blurring past as you head toward the venue. it’s the triplets only hometown show, so you know it’ll still be packed with fans eager to meet the trio.

after a moment, matt speaks again, his voice more thoughtful. “it’s kind of funny, though. people always think i’m the quiet one, like i don’t talk much in the videos.”

“because you don’t talk much in the videos,” chris interrupts.

“yeah, because you and nick never shut up,” matt counters, his tone dry but playful. “you think i can get a word in when you’re arguing about god knows what?”

nick leans forward, grinning. “it’s usually something important. you just don’t understand it.”

matt ignores him, glancing at you briefly before continuing. “but in real life? i don’t mind talking to people. it’s kind of nice, actually. like at these meet-and-greets—it’s cool hearing their stories and stuff.”

chris groans from the back. “oh, here we go. matt, the social butterfly. what’s next? you gonna write a self-help book?”

matt smirks. “maybe. chapter one: don’t be like chris.”

nick cackles, and chris crosses his arms with a dramatic sigh. “i’m being slandered in my own car on the way to my own tour. unreal.”

you smile, watching the dynamic unfold. it’s true—matt might come off as reserved online, but in reality, he’s the first to start a conversation, the first to ask someone about their day, the first to make things feel easy. there’s something steady about him, something that makes you feel comfortable even in moments like this.

as nick and chris argue over something else, matt shoots you a quick, knowing look, like he’s in on the joke with you. “don’t let them fool you,” he says quietly. “i’m the normal one here.”

“sure you are,” you reply, grinning, and he chuckles softly before turning his focus back to the road.

the rest of the ride, nick and chris bickered back and forth about the most random things ever, while you and matt sat in silence, occasionally giggling at his brothers. it wasnt an awkward silence. not at all. it was comfortable.

as the car nears the venue, the chatter from the backseat finally begins to die down. nick scrolls through his phone while chris dramatically recounts a story about some fan interaction from the last stop on the tour. you catch snippets of it, something about someone comparing him to a cartoon character, but you’re too focused on the quiet hum of the car and the occasional glance matt steals your way.

“almost there,” matt says softly, his eyes on the road but his tone carrying a hint of reassurance, like he can sense your nerves.

you nod, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “do you guys ever get nervous for these?”

matt considers it for a moment before shrugging. “not really. it’s kind of nice, meeting everyone. makes the videos feel more... real, if that makes sense.”

“it does,” you reply, smiling at his honesty.

“he’s lying,” chris interjects from the back. “he totally gets nervous. nick, remember the start of tour when he almost threw up before we started?”

“i wasn’t nervous,” matt corrects, shooting chris a glare through the rearview mirror. “i ate bad chicken.”

nick bursts out laughing. “sure, dude. keep telling yourself that.”

matt rolls his eyes, but you can see the corner of his mouth twitch, like he’s trying not to laugh. “whatever. at least i don’t forget people’s names mid-conversation, nick.”

“hey, that was one time!” nick defends himself, but his laughter gives him away.

“one time too many,” matt quips, his tone light.

as the venue comes into view, the quiet buzz of excitement settles over the car. you can see a small crowd already gathered near the entrance, holding signs and chatting animatedly among themselves.

matt slows the car, turning into the parking lot and finding a spot near the back entrance. he cuts the engine and turns to look at you, his expression softer than usual. “ready?”

you take a deep breath and nod. “ready.”

“let’s do this, then,” he says, his voice steady, like a calm anchor in the midst of the chaos.

nick and chris pile out of the car first, their bickering temporarily replaced by excitement as they grab their bags and start debating who’s going to carry what. matt lingers for a second, waiting for you to step out before closing the door behind you.

as you walk toward the entrance together, matt leans down slightly, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “if they start being too much, just stick with me. i’ll keep them in check.”

you laugh softly, glancing up at him. “thanks, but i think i can handle it.”

“we’ll see,” he replies, smirking as he holds the door open for you.

inside, the energy is palpable. staff members are setting up tables, arranging merch, and running through last-minute details. nick and chris are already bouncing between conversations, their loud voices filling the room.

matt stays by your side, his demeanor calm but attentive as he checks in with the team. it’s a side of him you don’t often see in the videos—confident, organized, and entirely in his element.

“okay,” he says after a moment, turning to you. “just stay close. these things get hectic fast.”

you nod, and for the first time all morning, you feel completely at ease. no matter how chaotic the day gets, you know matt will make sure it’s nothing you can’t handle.

you all enter the venue, matt guiding you to the area backstage where he’s meeting with his manager. matt told you about laura, she has a daughter, madi, the same age as you.

as you step into the backstage area, madi immediately spots the triplets and waves, making her way over to the four of you. “finally! thought you guys were gonna leave me hanging all morning.”

chris groans. “we’re literally early. how do you have energy to complain already?”

“because i’ve been up for hours helping mom set up,” madi shoots back, crossing her arms. “meanwhile, you three probably rolled out of bed ten minutes ago.”

“not true,” nick says, grabbing a bottle of water from the table. “it was, like, an hour ago.”

madi rolls her eyes, grinning as she turns to you. “and you must be the one who actually knows how to stay on schedule.”

you laugh. “i try, but i’m not sure i’m much better.”

“don’t let them drag you down with them,” she says, gesturing at the triplets. “it’s a slippery slope.”

matt smirks. “because you’re such a great example?”

“absolutely,” madi says without hesitation, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “unlike you, i know how to multitask.”

“yeah, we can tell,” matt says dryly, nodding at the clipboard she’s carrying.

“someone has to keep things moving,” madi replies, glancing at the clipboard before looking back up. “and clearly, it’s not you three.”

chris gasps dramatically. “wow, okay, just call us useless to our faces.”

“you said it, not me,” madi quips, grinning as nick snickers.

laura walks in then, holding her own clipboard. “alright, everybody, focus. soundcheck is in ten, and i don’t want any last-minute disasters this time.”

“define disaster,” chris says innocently, earning a pointed look from laura.

“i think she means you,” madi teases, shooting chris a smug grin.

nick laughs as laura claps her hands to cut them off. “let’s go! we’re already behind.”

the triplets groan but start moving toward the stage, still throwing jabs at each other as they leave.

madi watches them go, shaking her head with a smile. “i swear, they’re like this all the time. you get used to it, though.”

“they definitely keep things interesting,” you say, laughing softly.

she nods. “come on, let’s grab some snacks before they get back and eat everything. you’ll need the energy for today.”

with that, she guides you toward the catering table, chatting easily about the morning’s setup and laughing at your reactions to her stories. her laid-back demeanor makes everything feel natural, and by the time the triplets return, you’re already starting to feel like part of the group.

you and madi continue your conversation when you feel a hand brush your arm. you turn, seeing marylou and jimmy approaching.

“hi, sweethearts!” marylou chirps, leaning in to hug you first, then madi.

“hi, guys!” madi says politely, though her smile is more reserved. “the boys are in soundcheck right now. they should be done soon!”

jimmy leans against a nearby table, his casual demeanor setting the tone. “so, y/n, how’s boston treating ya?”

“it’s so nice! i’ve always wanted to come here, so it’s great to finally be here!” you reply warmly.

“that’s what we like to hear,” marylou says, her smile lighting up her face. “you should try to explore a little while you’re here. there’s so much to see!”

“like what?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“the freedom trail’s always a hit,” jimmy offers, his tone enthusiastic. “history everywhere you look.”

“and the public garden,” marylou adds. “oh, and fenway park! even if you’re not a baseball fan, it’s worth seeing.”

“it sounds like there’s a lot to fit in,” you say with a small laugh, adjusting your bracelet.

marylou nods eagerly. “if you need suggestions, just ask. jimmy and i have lived here long enough to know all the best spots.”

madi smiles, responding. “i’ve been to boston a bunch times, with the triplets of course, but i’ve never really explored it much. it’s usually just work or family visits.”

“then this could be your chance,” jimmy says with a friendly smile. “take a day to see the sights. you won’t regret it.”

“i’ll keep that in mind,” madi replies, her tone polite.

you glance between them, sensing the slight awkwardness, but before you can say anything, the sound of footsteps fills the hallway. the triplets emerge from soundcheck, their voices loud and energetic as they approach.

“there they are!” marylou says, her expression brightening.

“sound good in there?” jimmy asks, standing up straight.

“always,” matt replies with a small smile, grabbing a water bottle from the table.

“you guys behaving yourselves?” marylou asks, narrowing her eyes playfully at chris.

“define behaving,” chris quips, earning a quiet chuckle from nick.

marylou shakes her head with an amused sigh, then glances at you and madi. “we’ll let you all get back to it. y/n, madi, it was lovely to see you both!”

“you too!” you say warmly, while madi nods with a polite smile.

as marylou and jimmy head off to talk with some of the crew, matt looks over at you and madi. “what’d they talk your ear off about?”

“tourist spots” you say with a grin.

“classic,” matt mutters, running a hand through his hair.

“you say that like it’s a bad thing,” nick points out, grabbing a chair and sitting backward on it.

“it’s not. it’s just... intense,” matt replies, glancing at madi. “they try to get you to plan a whole trip too?”

“not really,” madi says, shrugging. “but they’ve got a lot of suggestions.”

“yeah, that sounds about right,” matt says with a small smirk.

the group settles into easy chatter, the earlier awkwardness fading as the triplets steer the conversation back to the show ahead. the energy is light, the day ahead promising to be both busy and memorable.

suddenly, chris jumps up, running toward the door, shouting something incoherent. a few minutes later, and returns with his best friend, nathan, by his side. the boys are chatting about something random, but when they approach the four of you again their conversation pauses. nate hugs madi, doing his regular handshake with matt and nick, then turning to you.

“you must be y/n! ive heard alot about you!”

“yeah, i am! hopefully good things?” you slightly laugh, matt coming to stand right next to you

“yeah, dont worry. matt never stops talking about you” nate laughs, looking at matt

matt shifts awkwardly beside you, scratching the back of his neck, his cheeks turning a shade pinker than usual.

"nate," matt warns, his voice low but firm, giving his best friend a pointed look.

nate just grins, clearly unbothered, and shrugs. "what? it's true." he looks back at you, his tone teasing but warm. "he’s been hyping you up since the minute you said yes to coming to boston. you’re basically a celebrity in the group chat at this point."

you laugh softly, glancing up at matt, who’s now pretending to be very interested in the ground. "well, that’s sweet. i hope i live up to the hype."

"you already do," matt mumbles under his breath, barely audible but enough for you to catch it.

your heart skips a beat, but before you can say anything, chris claps his hands loudly, breaking the tension. "okay, are we gonna stand here all day, or are we actually gonna go meet the fans?"

madi nods in agreement, already pulling nate toward her and you, knowing fans are starting to line up outside. "c’mon, let’s grab some food and head up to the balcony. i’m starving."

you, madi, and nate part ways with the triplets, as they go to meet their fans. you make your way up to the balcony above, looking down at all the fans eager to meet the three.

even though he was meeting fans, matt occasionally glanced up at you, talking with his friends. the conversation was so natural, as if you had been friends with nate and madi for years.

“okay, so. penne, or spaghetti?” nate questions, leaning against a wall

“penne. no question about it.” you respond, sitting on the couch with madi.

nate nods thoughtfully, pretending to weigh the options like it’s the most important decision of his life. “fair choice, but hear me out—spaghetti has better twirlability. that’s gotta count for something.”

madi laughs, tucking her legs under her as she adjusts on the couch. “twirlability? that’s not even a word.”

“it is now,” nate retorts, grinning. “and it’s a key factor in pasta ranking, thank you very much.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you say, shaking your head with a smile. “but fine, if we’re talking twirlability, maybe spaghetti does win.”

“ha! see?” nate exclaims, pointing at you triumphantly. “a fellow spaghetti lover.”

madi rolls her eyes but is clearly amused. “youre impossible.”

the sound of laughter and chatter from below drifts up to the balcony, blending with your own conversation. every so often, matt glances up from the meet and greet, his expression softening when he spots you laughing with nate and madi.

"look at him," madi says, nudging you playfully as she notices matt's quick glance upward. "he keeps checking up here."

"he's probably making sure we’re okay and not bored out of our minds," you joke, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your face.

nate raises an eyebrow. "or maybe he’s just making sure you’re okay."

you wave it off, focusing on the fans below as they light up meeting the triplets. “he’s busy. let’s not distract him.”

“oh, please. like we’re a distraction,” madi teases, leaning back into the cushions.

the three of you continue chatting, the easy rhythm of the conversation making time fly. the balcony feels like its own little world, separate from the bustling excitement below, but connected enough to feel the energy in the room. marylou and jimmy chat with justin, the triplets older, half brother a few feet away from the three of you.

eventually, they get through meeting all the fans, and its time to go onstage. after performances by ysb tril and lxst, the triplets enter the stage, talking with the fans, interacting with them, the whole lot.

laura, who was backstage the whole time, suddenly comes up next to you, madi, and nate, signaling for the three of you, along with marylou, jimmy, and justin, to start heading backstage.

you all follow her, and as soon as matt catches the slightest glimpse of you, his smile grows. the triplets call you seven of you out on stage, matt immediately wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

as matt pulls you closer, the crowd erupts into cheers, the energy in the room electric. nick and chris greet everyone warmly, playfully introducing each of you to the audience.

“and this is y/n!” matt says, his voice full of enthusiasm. “she’s a new friend of ours, but it already feels like we’ve known her forever.”

you smile, giving a small wave as the crowd cheers. madi leans toward nate, whispering something that makes him laugh quietly, while marylou and jimmy exchange grins, soaking in the moment.

“alright, let’s get back to what you guys really came for!” nick says, addressing the audience with a grin. “who’s got a good question for us?”

the fans eagerly raise their hands, and the triplets begin answering everything from lighthearted questions about their favorite foods to more thoughtful ones about their journey so far. the atmosphere is fun and casual, with occasional bursts of laughter from the triplets' quick wit and playful banter.

you and the rest of the group retreat to the side of the stage, watching the interaction unfold. madi leans against the wall, smiling as nick teases chris about a story from their childhood.

“they really know how to keep everyone engaged,” nate says, arms crossed as he takes it all in.

“yeah, it’s impressive,” you reply, your gaze flicking to matt, who occasionally glances your way with a soft smile.

the meet and greet continues, the triplets effortlessly switching between playful and heartfelt moments with their fans. after some time, they wrap up the event with a round of thank-yous and, since its the last show of tour, a promise to do it again soon.

as the crowd gives one last round of applause, the triplets make their way offstage, visibly energized from the interaction. matt approaches you first, his smile as bright as ever.

“how’d we do?” he asks, his tone light but curious.

“amazing,” you reply honestly. “you guys were great out there.”

“you think so?” matt says, his grin widening. “guess we’ll have to keep you around for feedback.”

nick and chris join, teasing matt before turning their attention to the rest of the group.

“ready to head out? im exhausted” nick asks, glancing at everyone.

“me too” matt gently yawns, running a hand through his hair

“aw, y’gonna go cuddle with y/n again?” chris teases, giggling

your jaw slightly drops, you, matt, nate, and madi all stopping in your tracks.

“oh, yeah. we woke them up this morning and they were fully cuddling.” nick laughs, opening his phone to show his friends the picture

madi smiles, nudging your arm as nate stares at matt.

“guys, come on. seriously? we just accidentally fell asleep in the same bed last night!” matt chirps, defensively. as if he was.. embarrassed? no. definitely not. something else.

“yeah, yeah. sure” nate waves him off, laughing “can we go get food?”

within the next 30 minutes, you, the triplets, madi, and nate are sitting at a booth inside their local mcdonalds. matt was sitting against the wall, you next to him, with nick on the other side of you. facing opposite of you, nate was against the wall, with chris next to him, and madi on the other side of chris. you’re all munching down on some burgers, nuggets, and fries, when you feel made put his arm around your shoulders- again.

“just a little tight, sorry” he mutters

you shake your head, signaling that its okay. in fact, you liked it.

the group continues chatting and joking around, the energy light and easy. madi is laughing at one of chris’s stories, while nick tries to balance a fry upright in his soda cup.

“you know,” nate starts, leaning back in his seat, “this is probably the most chaotic mcdonald’s crew i’ve ever been a part of.”

“oh, come on. you love it,” nick teases, flicking a fry across the table toward nate.

matt leans closer to you, his arm still resting comfortably on your shoulders. “m’sorry theyre so crazy, theyre always like this,” he says quietly, his voice laced with amusement.

“you say that like you’re not part of it,” you reply, looking up at him, a smile tugging at your lips.

“i’m the calm one,” matt insists, feigning innocence.

nick overhears and snorts. “calm? you? please. you’re just quieter about your chaos.”

matt rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face betrays him. “whatever. i’m still the chill one.”

as the night wears on, the group slowly finishes their food, the table littered with empty wrappers and cups. madi stands up first, stretching.

“alright, are we ready to go home?” she asks.

“yep, before chris starts juggling ketchup packets,” nate quips, dodging a playful shove from chris.

outside, the air is cooler, the quiet hum of the streetlights contrasting with the earlier buzz inside the restaurant. matt walks close beside you, his hand brushing yours for a moment before he slides it into his pocket.

“thanks for coming along the past few days,” he says, his voice soft. “it’s been fun having you here.”

“of course,” you reply, feeling a warm blush creep up your cheeks. “i’ve been having a lot of fun too.”

the group piles into their cars, the night winding down but the feeling of connection lingering. as you sit back, listening to nick and nate debate about the best way to eat fries, you catch matt glancing your way again before pulling out of the lot, his expression unreadable but warm.

again, he made chris sit in the backseat, with you in the passenger. nate and madi were all the way in the back, nick in his respective, middle row, left seat.

as the car hums along the quiet streets, the conversations begin to mellow. madi and nate are deep in discussion about some niche movie trivia, their voices low but animated. nick occasionally chimes in from his seat, offering quips that earn small bursts of laughter.

you glance out the window, the city lights flickering by, casting fleeting shadows across matt’s face as he drives. his hand rests casually on the gear shift, his fingers tapping lightly to the beat of the faint music playing through the speakers.

“you tired?” matt asks softly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

“a little,” you admit, turning to him. “but it’s been a good day.”

he smiles, his eyes briefly flicking toward you before returning to the road. “yeah, it has.”

from the back, chris leans forward, resting his arms on the middle row seatbacks. “hey, can we stop for ice cream or something? i need something sweet.”

“it’s almost midnight, chris,” matt replies, though there’s no real annoyance in his tone.

“so? midnight ice cream hits different,” chris argues, grinning.

“fine,” matt sighs, but you catch the faint smile on his lips. “if we find a place that’s open.”

nick perks up. “i think there’s a place up ahead.”

sure enough, a small ice cream shop glows in the distance, its neon sign a beacon in the quiet night. matt pulls into the lot, and the group piles out, stretching and joking as they make their way to the counter.

matt stands beside you as the other four order, his hand brushing yours briefly as he pulls out his wallet. “you want anything specific?” he asks.

“you don’t have to—”

“i know,” he interrupts, smiling. “but i want to.”

you werent going to get anything, the mcdonalds was filling enough. but, you give in, letting him treat you to a small vanilla cone, and the two of you wander back to the car with the rest of the group.

as you settle back into the car, the night air cool against your skin, you can’t help but feel a deep sense of belonging. even though you’ve only known them for a short time, it feels like you’ve always been a part of this little group. and as matt’s voice joins in the banter, his arm brushing yours once more, you realize you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

you eventually make your way back to the triplets house, the six of you piling out of the car. matt unlocks the door, signaling for you all to be quiet, as his parents are already asleep.

you all make your way upstairs, chris, nick, and nate going to hang out in chris’ bedroom, since nate is spending the night.

as the six of you tiptoe upstairs, madi pauses at the top of the landing, her phone buzzing in her hand. “my mom’s here,” she whispers. “she’s waiting outside.”

“i’ll walk you down,” nick offers, turning back toward the stairs with her.

“night, guys,” madi says softly, giving a small wave.

“night, madi!” chris and nate chorus, their voices a little too loud. matt shoots chris a look, finger pressed to his lips, and he immediately quiets down, laughing under his breath.

you wave at madi, smiling as she disappears down the stairs with nick. a few moments later, the front door clicks shut, and the sound of a car pulling away drifts faintly through the house.

“she’s nice,” you remark, turning to face him. “her mom seems nice too, from the few times i’ve seen her.”

he nods, gesturing toward the hall. “come on, it’s late”

“are you sure? i feel bad kicking you out of your own bed,” you say, following him.

“you’re not kicking me out,” he replies with a small smile. “i already told you, i don’t mind the couch. besides, i wouldn’t let you sleep in the guest room when you can have a real mattress.”

you shake your head but smile at his thoughtfulness. as you step into his room, you take in the cozy, personal space. the walls are lined with photos, posters, and a few scattered knickknacks that make the room feel lived-in. a flash of the photo of the two of you ‘cuddling’ from the morning earlier flashes through your mind. though, youre snapped out of your thoughts by matts voice speaking up

“you need anything?” matt asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“no, i’m good. thanks,” you reply.

“alright. i’ll let you get changed,” he says, his voice soft as he backs toward the door. “i’ll be in the living room if you need anything.”

“goodnight,” you say, offering him a small smile.

“night,” he replies, closing the door gently behind him.

you quickly change into your pajamas, folding your day clothes into your bag before heading to the bathroom to wash up. when you return to the room, the faint sound of laughter drifts up from downstairs—probably nick and chris teasing each other about something random.

as you settle into matt’s bed, the familiar scent of his cologne lingering in the sheets, you hear a soft knock at the door.

“everything okay?” matt’s voice comes quietly from the other side.

“yeah, i’m all set,” you answer.

he pushes the door open just enough to lean in, his expression relaxed. “just wanted to make sure. today was fun, wasn’t it?”

“it really was,” you agree, sitting up slightly. “your fans are so sweet, and it’s been great getting to know everyone better.”

his lips tug into a small smile, his gaze steady. “i’m glad you’re here. we all are.”

the sincerity in his voice makes your chest feel warm. “thanks, matt. that means a lot.”

he nods, glancing down the hall. “get some rest, okay? today was a long day.”

“goodnight, matt,” you say softly.

“night,” he replies, stepping back and closing the door behind him.

as you lie back under the covers, the quiet of the house wrapping around you, you can’t help but feel a sense of belonging. little by little, you’re finding your place here, and it feels good—natural, even. despite the unfamiliar setting, a wave of comfort washes over you. it feels different—good, and safe. as your eyes drift shut, you can’t help but think that sharing a moment like this with matt feels right.

your thoughts drift to matt’s words from earlier, his quiet kindness and steady presence. the warmth of his smile lingers in your mind, and without meaning to, you find yourself smiling too.

just as sleep begins to tug at you, a soft tap on the door pulls you back.

“it’s me,” matt’s voice calls softly.

“come in,” you say, sitting up slightly.

he peeks in, holding a spare blanket. “i thought you might want an extra, just in case it gets cold.”

you smile, touched by the gesture. “thanks, matt.”

he steps inside, draping the blanket over the edge of the bed. for a moment, he lingers, his gaze meeting yours.

“sleep well, y/n,” he says, his voice low and genuine.

“you too,” you reply, watching as he quietly slips back out, closing the door behind him.

as the house falls silent once more, you settle deeper into the blankets, a warmth blooming in your chest. today had been full of surprises—unexpected moments of connection, laughter, and belonging. and as your eyes finally close, you know one thing for certain: you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

a/n: im sorry this took so long to finally get out :( for the next part theres probably gonna be a bit of a time skip of a few weeks or months since i cant really thing of anything significant to happen before what i already have planned LMAO

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

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- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

⋆˙⟡ tags: @lvrsturniolo @marrykisskilled @mattscoquette @emely9274 @wh0remikasas @mattsstarlet @pvssychicken @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @jvngle18 @forgottxen @mattslolita @lolastrniolo @55sturn

thank you to my angel @sturn777 for helping me write part of this, so so grateful <33

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