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lqveharrington · 3 months ago

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Gentleman | R.L.

summary: remus lupin is the perfect gentleman.

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

includes: fluff, you and sirius are practically siblings, rem defending his girlfriend, someone gets pushed off a boat

a/n: all my inspo literally comes from the music i listen to 😭

James had invited the entire group down to the lake for the summer because it was the last summer before the last year of Hogwarts. He thought it should be memorable, and everyone loved the idea. His parents allowed him to borrow the lake house and boat, but only if everyone's parents were okay with it. Of course, your parents trusted you with your friends. The only rule was to stay in separate rooms from your boyfriend. Oopsies.

As the Potters’ boat slowed to a calm stop, the summer wind continued to blow through the air, the clouds nonexistent in the blue sky. The sun shimmered across the lake water and the radio played the top hits of the month, the sound drowning from the talking of the boat’s riders.

When Sirius had enough of all the chitchat, he quickly shed himself of his top and jumped into the lake water, splashing Marlene who was trying to tan on the boats end. She cursed him out and threatened to pull the ladder away when he splashed her again.

Witnessing the entire interaction, you hid a laugh behind a smile and left the girls to sit beside Remus who was sitting underneath the shade of the boat. You tucked your legs underneath your lap and leaned your chin on his shoulder. On instinct, his calloused hand found the space underneath your calf and gently squeezed even when talking to James. You admired his face glowing in the sun for a beat, eyes following the scars that were left behind from bad nights before he finally turned and met your loving eyes.

“Hey.” You murmur and grin when you felt him press a soft kiss to your lips. “Sirius just went into the water." He hummed and kissed you again, making you hum and separate once more. "You don't want to join him?”

“And leave you here all by yourself? What type of man do you think I am?” He thumbed your leg and felt for the rushing blood, ensuring there was a pule and that you were in fact real. It was a habit he was quick to have learned because of a full moon incident a year ago.

You shrug and rest your cheek on his shoulder instead, watching the gulls fly by and circle the food James was grilling. As he tried fighting them off with tongs, Lily and Dorcas began to draw sunscreen images on Marlene's back, not bothering to cover up their giggles.

“You don’t want to join the girls?” Remus tilted his head and scanned your side profile, following the contour of your face. He memorized every single bump and crease, gingerly tucking a piece of loose hair behind your ear when you looked back over at him.

You raise a brow at his guilty smile and analyze his mannerism, rubbing the one bit of sunscreen into his cheek. "What?"

“You just wanna stay in the shade with me, don't you, dovey?" He brought his hand up and gently cupped your cheek, pulling you close enough so he could press a kiss to your temple.

“Of course, wherever you are, I follow.” You grin as a blush creeps up your neck, not realizing Sirius had gotten out of the water and rolled his eyes at how affectionate the both of you were being.

“You two are so gross." He covered his eyes before shaking his head like the dog he was — ridding himself of all the water he brought up with him.

You groaned when you got hit with the water, glaring at the long-haired boy. He stuck his tongue out at you which you retaliated with your middle finger. You swore that Sirius had a secret hatred for you since you began dating Remus over a year ago.

Sirius gasped at your gesture and put a hand on his chest, returning the finger. Remus rolled his eyes at the both of you and gave you a pointed look, making you cover it with your hand.

"Prongs, do something! The lady won't go down without a fight!" SIrius complained and popped a soda can out of the cooler, leaning against the railing of the boat.

“Mate, I don’t know what you want me to do.” James threw him a confused look and reached inside the cooler to hand Lily her own can. "Besides, I can't do much here."

“You could toss her over board." Sirius muttered loud enough for you to whip your head toward him and glare.

"You were being mean first!" You move to stand only to be pulled back down into your seat. From the corner of your eye, you saw Remus pursing his lips in thought, making you sigh. "Rem—"

“Sit.” He practically commanded, rolling his eyes once more when you crossed your arms and legs in annoyance. But when you noticed his quick wink, you realize what he was going to do.

You smiled slyly toward Sirius when he met your eyes again. The poor unsuspecting bloke. Sirius gave you an annoyed look and went to say something — probably insulting all women — when Remus pulled him aside.

Assuming Remus was going to hangout with him instead of you, Sirius stuck his tongue out before yelping in surprise as Remus pushed him off the boat. Your eyes widened with a smile, stretching your neck to see where Sirius was flailing. The three girls burst out into laughter at the predicament and quickly moved away from all the splashing water, grabbing a polaroid to take a picture before he could get out. James just shook his head in disbelief, clasping his arm around Sirius’ and helping him up.

Remus tossed a towel in Sirius' direction before sitting beside you again, kissing the side of your head like nothing happened. You gave him cheeky smile and laced your hand with his.

“What a gentleman.” You chide before letting out a noise of surprise at the feeling of his lips on yours, dropping your hand to lay flat on his chest.

“Some gentleman you are.” Sirius muttered as he dried himself off. When he realized Remus was staring back at him with an unimpressed look, he took a huge step back behind James and quickly apologized. “Kidding, I’m kidding.”

You send him another death glare before staring up at Remus with soft eyes as he thumbed your palm, a small smile taking over your face. "You know we're probably going to get pranked anytime soon, right?"

"As long as I spend quality time with you, I think I'll be fine. Besides, he won't try anything too bad." Remus tilted your head up with his index finger. "I'm a gentleman anyway."

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noonecareslol · 2 months ago

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࣪˖ ִ ೀ 𝐀 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Hwang In-ho x Fem! Reader

Summary: When the games aren’t in session, and In-ho is lonely, he finds himself in the first row at the ballet. Watching you. Suddenly he's falling in love.

TW: Channeling my love for older men. Injury. Reader lowkey gets sad for a sec. Age gap (reader is 25 In-ho is 49). Just FLUFF! In-ho learning how to love someone again. Quite literally head over heels for you. Allusions to masturbation. Size kink if you squint.

WC! 5k Part 2! -> here!

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It is quite obvious that In-ho is an old soul.

He enjoys old films, old clothing, old theatre, and old music. The little jazz set that plays, “Fly Me To The Moon” is a cherished possession of his, along with his vintage whiskey decanter.

He wears a musky cologne he’d been gifted by his late wife, and his closet is lined with leather dress shoes and perfectly pressed slacks. His dimly lit room on the island is vastly similar to the one in his Seoul apartment, everything perfectly neat and clean.

Yes, In-ho is an old soul.

And in between the games, when he would return to Seoul, he’d find himself bored. Especially during the night. He’d miss his wife, the whispered hope of a promised future.

Often he would distract himself by putting his whiskey decanter to good use, pouring the aged whiskey into his glass over and over again. He would linger by his shelf full of movies he’d seen hundreds of times, tracing his fingers along the cases until he landed on a title. A small smile would play on his lips before popping it into the DVD player and taking a seat next to his beloved cat.

He would find himself mumbling the lines as the actors spoke them on screen, his hand absentmindedly petting his cat. When the movie is over, and the quiet resumes, he’d move to his bedroom.

He’d ensure his cat followed before changing into his expensive pajamas and climbing into the king-sized bed. His cat would join him and he would drift to sleep, dreaming of, well, nothing.

He would close his eyes and wake up without any dream having occupied his mind.

This routine became comfortable. Each night he would get home from whatever he’d been doing before, drink, watch a movie, play with his cat, and sleep without any dreams.

But this night, this night was different.

It was a cold night. And all In-ho wanted to do was drown in glasses of whiskey and watch “Dial ‘M’ For Murder” with his cat.

But as he walked past a line of people waiting to enter a theatre, a poster caught his attention. He blinked once, twice, before walking toward the lit-up frame.

A strikingly beautiful ballerina caught his attention first. She held her arms elegantly above her head, her leg pointed behind her, her other leg resting on pointe as she looked to the side. She was breathtaking.

The Seoul Ballet Company Presents: Swan Lake

Opening Night November 1st

Suddenly the thought of whiskey and Alfred Hitchcock left his mind as he joined the line. I mean, who would miss out on opening night?

Especially when the lead was so pretty.

“We have one ticket left in the front row.” The woman behind the ticket booth clicked her pen unenthusiastically as she watched In-ho pull his leather vintage wallet out of his coat pocket.

A grin rested plainly on his lips as he fiddled with his cash, “That’s perfect. How much?”

The woman slowly turned and punched a few numbers into her register before turning back to him, “80,000 won.” She clicked her pen again.

“Do you have change for 100,000?” He held the two 50,000 won in front of him, watching as she stared at him blankly.

She blinked once before snatching the bills from his hands, “Nope!” In-ho sighed. For someone so slow she took those bills awfully fast.

In-ho drew his lips into a thin line before taking the ticket and placing it in his wallet, “Thanks.”

“Yeah enjoy the show or, like, whatever.” The woman took out her phone and began to text as he walked away, obviously not giving a shit about her job.

But as In-ho walked through the double doors, his breath caught in his throat. The theatre certainly did not disappoint his love for old architecture.

The large barrel vaulted ceilings were beautifully ornamented and adorned with intricately painted designs. Gorgeous crown molding edged the ceiling and stretched to the floor. And a large crystal chandelier rested as the centerpiece, warmly lit and inviting.

In-ho took his seat, a smile evident on his lips as he sighed contently. However, he hoped his cat wasn’t too worried about his whereabouts. Maybe she could come along next time? She is a very sophisticated cat, after all.

As the chandelier and house lights began to dim, the crowd became quiet with anticipation and excitement. And it would be dishonest to say that In-ho wasn’t a little excited as well.

He looked to his left at the woman sitting next to him. She was a small elderly lady with a pair of glasses perched on the tip of her nose. Her eyes were filled with excitement as she scanned through the pamphlet, a wide smile plastered on her face.

She wore a vintage necklace around her neck, layered with pearls. In-ho smiled, it was nice to see someone who also had a knack for old taste.

The soft notes of Swan Lake began to play, and In-ho watched as the curtains opened, revealing the beautifully decorated stage. Large trees with hanging vines arched over the set, greenery and flowers blending into the painted backdrop.

A foggy mist flooded the stage as dancers began to move elegantly across. But the lead had yet to make an appearance.

In-ho watched rather impatiently, and failed to notice the woman next to him lean in, “Right now, the prince is going hunting with his crossbow. But he will find that the white swan has turned into a beautiful woman, and has fallen under a curse.” The old woman pointed slightly to the prince, her voice whispering just loud enough for him to hear.

His eyes trained on the prince as he danced with his crossbow, “Thank you. I must look confused.”

The old lady gave a small laugh, “I used to dance for this company, i’ll never miss an opportunity to explain the ballet.”

In-ho watches as she subtly mimics the prince's moves, her hands moving elegantly in front of her. Her eyes were closed, the sound of the music bringing emotion to her face.

Her eyes flick open as the music changes softly, “Look.” Her eyes lighting up as she nods slightly to the stage.

In-ho watches as you finally take the stage, fluttering your feet as you move elegantly toward the prince. Your hands held high above your head, moving gracefully as you bourrée.

He watched as your back muscles contracted, moving as if you had wings. His eyes trained down to your legs and to your pointe shoes, watching as you danced with ease.

Your white feathered skirt moved along with you, the bodice elegantly framing you perfectly. The feathered piece in your hair catches In-ho’s attention, causing him to study your face.

That poster was nothing compared to your beauty.

You held a soft look, but In-ho didn’t fail to notice the focus that caused your eyebrows to furrow slightly. Your movements were soft and graceful, your demeanor innocent and melancholic.

You were perfect as the white swan.

You were perfect.

He wondered if you were just as innocent as you portray yourself to be, “God, she’s beautiful.”

The elderly woman hummed in agreement as she watched In-ho’s gaze remain sharp on the white swan, an all-knowing smile spread across her lips.

As the ballet continued it seemed that the rest of the audience had disappeared. In-ho felt as if you were only dancing for him. No one else.

He swore you looked at him a few times, him being the focus point of your graceful turns.

And when you transitioned into the black swan, all thoughts in In-ho’s head became dark.

Oh, how he liked this side of you.

Your movements were sharp, determined, and seductive. And he found himself adjusting in his seat as his slacks became increasingly tight. You were so close to him. Just a few feet from his touch as you danced on stage. He could take you right now. He could fuck you, make you feel things you’ve never felt before.

And as you leaped on the stage, the white swan jumping to her death, In-ho felt a tear slip from his eye. You were magnificent.

The audience filed out of the theatre, fanning themselves with their pamphlets and discussing the ballet. You had received a standing ovation, and In-ho took pride in being the first one to stand and clap.

He had finally caught your attention. And when you locked eyes with him as you bowed, you felt your brain turn to mush.

He was handsome. Like, extremely handsome.

His face was perfectly chiseled. His eyes crinkled as he flashed a perfect smile, his hair slightly falling in front of his face and covering his dark eyes.

You didn’t blink once as you remained under his gaze, and it wasn’t until another dancer pulled you up that you realized you were bowing for far too long.

You avoided his eye contact as you walked off, embarrassed he had made you turn into putty just by his stare.

And as In-ho exited the theatre, he took his time lingering by the lamp post. He’d secretly hoped to see you leave.

He doesn’t know what he would say if he did see you. Maybe he would compliment you, or ask you a meaningless question. Or maybe, just maybe, he’d push you against the lamppost, and let his desire consume you.

He’d just wait a little bit longer.

10 minutes.

15 minutes.

30 minutes.

The woman from behind the ticket booth locked the door as she brought down the metal gate, “Excuse me, did the woman who danced as the white swan leave yet?”

She turned around smacking her gum, “Yeah. Why?” She sized him up, placing a hand on her hip as she cocked an eyebrow.

In-ho felt his face flush, “I was just going to compliment her.” He put his cold hands in the pockets of his coat, shifting his weight onto his other foot.

“Yeah well,” The woman smacks her gum as she walks up towards In-ho, handing him a flier, “They have open practice every Friday. Tickets are only 10,000 won.”

He took the flier from her hand, folding it and sliding it into his pocket, “Thanks.” She nodded her head and walked past him, slipping into her jacket.

In-ho turned and started his walk to his apartment only a block away. When he arrived, he heard the familiar sound of meowing by his front door.

And as he opened the door, he came face to face with his cat waiting on the couch, “I’m sorry Elisabeth, but I’m too tired for a movie tonight.”

She gave an annoyed meow before reluctantly following him into his room, hopping onto the pillow beside his. In-ho got dressed in his pajamas, ready for another dreamless night as he slipped into the sheets next to Elisabeth.

But this time, it wasn't dreamless.

In fact, he had dreamed a very vivid dream.

He had dreamt of you.

And as In-ho woke up the next morning, his hand immediately went to his nightstand, picking up the flier.

It seems that the pretty ballerina has stolen his heart.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"Plié! Ron de jambe, retiré! Good!" You held your arms in front of you, your right leg coming up at a bend, "Pas de chat, écarté! Don't rush it, Fiona!"

Your ballet teacher weaved between you and the other students, her tight bun sitting perfectly on her pointed head, "Développé, demi-pointe! No! Not pointe, demi pointe!"

Her thick French accent bellowed throughout the theatre, "Good y/n! Très bien!" A wide smile painted your lips as you continued your dance, your friend Fiona rolling her eyes at your praise. You giggled as you went into second, your arms outstretched to the side.

"Well done! Take a water break and stretch, we'll take five." You brought your hands to your knees, leaning over slightly as you caught your breath.

Fiona dramatically flopped on her back, a hand coming to her forehead as she breathed heavily, "I've died, she's killed me." You tossed her water bottle into her hand with a laugh as you sat next to her, your eyes scanning the theatre.

Familiar faces met your eyes. Elderly couples, former dancers, and little kids with their moms. Oh! And the man who you haven't stopped thinking about.

Wait.

You hit Fiona's shoulder hard, not taking your eyes off him, "Fiona. Fiona, look." She sat up, holding her shoulder as her eyes trailed to where you were subtly pointing.

"Oh, it's the hot dilf." Fiona took a drink from her bottle, watching as In-ho looked around while taking in the architecture.

You slapped her shoulder again, "Shut up! What if he hears you?" You get up from the ground, pulling Fiona up with you and tossing your water bottle back into your bag.

She followed suit, taking one last drink before tossing it in her own, "First off, stop hitting me. It's abuse." You rolled your eyes as you both took your spot by the barre, "Second, he's in the back corner of the theatre, he's not hearing shit. Except for our teacher's constant yelling."

You didn't respond, instead, you continued looking at him. His black turtle neck sweater hugged his biceps perfectly, and you didn't fail to notice his empty finger where a ring would sit.

"Okay! Lets continue! Tendu, plié! Ron de jambe, plié!"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It had been two months since In-ho first started spending his Fridays pining over you.

Each Friday, he would come home, change into an outfit he had dry-cleaned and pressed, feed Elisabeth, and head to the Theatre. He would take his spot in the far left corner, and watch as you danced and laughed with your friends.

He found himself looking forward to Fridays. Which is strange, because he's never looked forward to anything before. Well, besides the games. But he had been so focused on you, that he had fallen behind on his work. Something he'd never done before.

You plagued his mind.

He dreams of you. When he's asleep and awake. He'd find himself walking by the Theatre on other days when you were practicing, hoping to see a glimpse of you.

He found himself listening to Etta James and Nat King Cole more often than not. 'A Sunday Kind Of Love' and 'Unforgettable' filing his apartment as he cooked his dinners. 'My Fair Lady' and 'Gone With The Wind' replacing his classic mystery movies.

He even found himself stopping by flower boutiques, smelling the tulips and Orchids. He wonders what your favorite flower is. Perhaps it is Lilies, the flower that represents innocence and purity.

He wondered a lot if you were a virgin. Often imagining the feeling of your body under his large one late at night when he can't sleep, and when his hand finds itself under his pants.

You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you didn't even know it.

Vice Versa, you found yourself looking forward to Fridays as well.

It was the only day you could see the stranger who you had been thinking about constantly.

You liked his style, the way he carried himself with a confidence that intimidated you. His large frame towered over everyone, and he stood out from the crowd. He was perfect. It was as if god himself sculpted him with his own hands.

And oh my god.

You were down bad.

Fiona constantly teased you about it. Making fun of how you stopped wearing your loose cover-up, "Im just hot, that's all Fiona. It's warm in here." You lied. And Fiona was obviously aware of that.

You started offering to stay late with your teacher and help clean up, hoping to catch the stranger before he left. But your teacher always insisted you should go home and rest, and who were you to disobey her.

You've always been perfect. At school, at dance, at everything. When auditions came for Swan Lake, there was no question in anyone's mind about who would get the lead.

But since opening night, things have been slightly different. You often got distracted during practice, your eyes always finding the man in the back corner. You started falling out of your turns, forgetting to bring your pointe shoes, and, worse of all, you had been forgetting to point your toes.

And here you were. Walking to the center of the stage, ready to run through your variation in front of everyone. It was an easy variation, but the end was complicated. You had to do several pirouettes, which you have always been good at. But today you decided to test yourself.

You knew your teacher was becoming increasingly disappointed in you, it plagued your every thought. So, as you spun perfectly, you decided to see how many pirouettes you could perform.

17, 18, 19, 20.

Your leg is wobbling, but you choose to ignore it.

21, 22, 23-

You hear Fiona call your name as your foot slips out of pointe, twisting as you fall on top of it, "Oh my god!" The sickening sound of your ankle cracking causes your heart to drop. The stinging feeling of tears replaced by the overwhelming pain that was now shooting up your leg.

Everyone huddles around you as the teacher runs to call an ambulance, but Fiona kneels at your side, "I know this isn't the right time but, the dilf is running over here right now."

You close your eyes, trying to control your rapid breathing. You wished the stage would open around you and swallow you whole, just put you out of your misery.

In-ho jumps with ease onto the stage, his sweater sleeves rolled up to his elbow, "Move." He pushes past the dancers huddling over you and grabs your face.

Your eyes flick open at the feeling of warm hands pressed against your cheeks. Oh my god, he was holding your face. Your heart fluttered but you didn't notice, you were too worried about the fact that your ankle was bent the wrong way.

In-ho's hand softly brushes over your ankle, causing you to wince. At first, he's skeptical about touching you. Was it too fast? Too sudden? Too bold?

But he didn't have time to think it over as he put his strong arms under you, lifting you gently as he stood. Fiona watched with a smirk on her face as she saw shock fill your eyes, his biceps flexing as he pulled you close to his chest.

Without a word, In-ho steps down from the stage and carries you through the exit, "I have an ambulance coming!" Your teacher ran after him yelling, her typically neat bun somewhat loose and frizzy now.

In-ho motions to his pocket and Fiona responds, grabbing his car key and unlocking his Mercedez-benz, "It will take too long. I'll drive her."

For a split second, you catch his eye, and you could've sworn to god your pain disappeared for a moment. And if it were a different circumstance, In-ho would kiss you. He would kiss you right here with you in his arms.

But the shared look was short-lived as he very carefully sets you in the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt gently. Your ballet teacher leans down to the window, "Don't worry! Fiona can dance for you!"

Your heart shattered.

And tears began to flood. You ignored In-ho's words of reassurance as he took off, speeding to the hospital. The drive was quiet except for your soft cries. And In-ho wanted nothing more than to cradle you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

"Im sorry im getting your car dirty." You looked at the tear-stained headrest you laid against, wiping your sore eyes with the back of your hand.

In-ho cuts a car off as he turns, ignoring the beeps from the angry driver, "It's okay. I have another one." The subtle money brag wasn't missed by you. In-ho just wanted to impress you.

"What are you? Like a CEO or something?" You turned to face him, giving a pitiful sniffle as he gave another sharp turn.

He chuckled, and you felt your heart beat faster. Was it because of the adrenaline? Or was it because the man whom you've become obsessed with is quite literally acting like your night in shining armor, "Im... Im a game show host."

You nodded, an impressive smile growing on your face, "That's cool. Im y/n by the way."

He flashes a smile, the same smile from the night you first saw him, and a blush creeps up on your tear-stained cheeks, "You're sitting there, with a fucked up ankle, and you're making small talk?"

You suddenly feel embarrassed. He's just some random guy who happened to be in the right place at the right time, nothing more. "Sorry. Just trying to distract myself."

In-ho frowns. Did he say the wrong thing? His grip tightens on the steering wheel, "No! Don't be sorry. If I'm being honest, I've been dying to know your name."

His eyes flick to you before looking back in front of him, "Im Hwang In-ho." A small smile creeps onto his lips as he pulls to a stop in front of the ER.

"Well, Mr. Hwang, it's nice to meet you."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"Well, it looks like you have a fracture." You give a long exasperated sigh as the Doctor holds up the X-rays, "The fibula is fractured below the level of the syndesmosis, which is the joint between the tibia and fibula."

You look at In-ho, who, for some reason, seems more stressed than you do, "What's the healing process like? Will she need surgery?" Your head snapped to the doctor at the mention of surgery. Surgery for dancers is like a death sentence.

No. More. Dancing.

"Fractures like these are considered stable, meaning that they are unlikely to worsen with correct treatment and management. You'll just need to wear a boot for a while." The doctor noticed how your concerned look didn't falter, and gave a sigh before placing a hand on your shoulder, "You can still dance."

The breath you were holding escapes your lips as you feel a heavy weight fall off your shoulders, "Thank you so much." The doctor rubs your shoulder before leaving, instructing the nurse to fit you for a boot.

In-ho watches as you close your eyes, a smile resting on your face. He cocked his head, how could you be so beautiful in a moment like this? His eyes take a minute to trail down your body, taking you in, something he's grown fond of doing.

Your hair is a mess, your cheeks are red and tear-stained, your ankle looks like a snapped twig, and you're picking at your cuticles. But god.

You are perfect.

Just as beautiful now as you were months ago.

An unfamiliar feeling has taken over his chest ever since he saw you. A tightening, warm feeling that he hasn't felt in years. At first, he ignored it. Maybe it was just heartburn? But as it progressed, he got worried. The next thing you know a doctor is laughing in his face.

Calling it 'love'.

In-ho immediately left after he heard that, making sure to write a very passive-aggressive review on Yelp. What doctor diagnosed a patient with 'being in love'?

In-ho was not in love.

...

Right?

It wasn't until he watched 'Funny Face' that he realized the estranged doctor was correct. The moment Fred Astaire saw Aubrey Hepburn and was immediately captivated by her beauty, he knew it was true.

He didn't care that he was more than twenty years older than you, or that he had bigger things to worry about, all he cared about was you.

And that made him so confused.

You had managed to captivate his heart, soul, and body. And he felt like a teenager with his first crush all over again. So as he saw you look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, he couldn't help what happened next.

He stood from his chair, taking large steps towards your frame. You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him stand between your legs, careful not to hit your ankle.

His big hands reach down and grab your face, slamming your lips into his own. Your eyes grow wide, confusion flashing across your face before slowly giving in, pulling his head down lower.

His touch was gentle, the opposite of his kiss. His hands softly caressed your red cheeks, while his lips hungrily chased after your own.

You tugged at the baby hairs that rested on the back of his neck, desire and hunger feeding off you as he slipped his tongue into your pretty mouth. A low growl escaped his swollen lips, and you felt arousal begin to pool between your thighs.

You whine as he removes his hand from your face and steps back, crossing his arms. His gaze has always been intimidating. But now that he's seen you fall on your ass, cry, and melt under his touch all in one day, it is much more intimidating.

You've been vulnerable in front of him. Something you could never do before. But you didn't care if he saw your flaws, you were perfect to him.

He saw a future when he looked at you. He saw a family, something he had longed for many years ago. He saw hope, love, and promise.

He saw you.

Beautiful, perfect, irresistible you.

And as he looked at you, only one question entered his mind.

"Do you want to meet my cat?"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

a/n: chat. its 2 am. but i am DETERMINED to post this. i just love you guys sm mwah mwah. also, wasn't in a smut mood. still getting used to writing smut LMAO.

also random disclaimer: i have never done ballet. so if any terms are wrong or if my spelling is trash PLS LMK!

@bohemiandelilah @menabuser16 @verouys @speedymagazinewhispers @metalbaby2 @nellabear @marymun @orihime188 @nanascupid @fnl9zer @chasinghxran @crystalizia @auspicious-lilana @machipyun @cdej6 @namelesslosers

#hwang inho x reader #hwang in ho #in ho x reader #squid game #squid game x reader #hwang in ho x reader #in ho #squid games #lee byung hun x reader #lee byung hun #001 x reader #young il x reader #young il #front man #front man x reader

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emptymasks · 6 months ago

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They're done! I really want to try and make prints again as it's been years and I've never felt like I was very good at making whole posters. Dipping my toe back in with these silly chibis of each Papa with every Ghoul they've had. Perhaps they can also work as a guide for those wanting to learn all the characters? I added in a fair amount of little references with the Ghoul's poses so it'll be interesting to see what you guys figure out and notice!

The prints are on pre-order and won't ship out until November. I've put up 25 of each to start with but if they get low on stock I'll keep adding more until I have them printed and then it'll be a set amount in stock.

Also a reminder about the stickers of every Ghost Papa and Ghoul that I made earlier this year that are also available as customisable badges! Thank you so much to everyone who already bought them and got Etsy to list them as a 'bestseller' for a while. They're still up and in stock.

EDIT: someone informed me Delta was not in Secondo's era so sorry little water ghoul but he got edited out of that drawing.

Characters featured on the prints and are also available on stickers and badges: Papa Emeritus I / Primo, Papa Emeritus II / Secondo, Papa Emerirus III / Terzo, Papa Emeritus IV / Cardinal Copia, Aether, Air, Alpha / Fire, Aurora, Chain / Water, Cirrus, Cowbell, Cumulus, Delta, Dewdrop / Sodo, Earth, Ifrit, Ivy, Lake, Mist, Mountain, Omega / Quintessence, Pebble, Phantom, Phil / Special Ghoul, Rain, Sunshine, Swiss, Zephy.

I can’t link to my Etsy without risking Tumblr hiding the post from tag search results, but the link is in my pinned post, my carrd, I’m emptymasks on Etsy. Reblogs help support artists more than likes ❤️

[ID: Four landscape drawings, one for each of Ghost's Papas and the Ghouls that were in the band with them while they were the lead singer. Each Papa is in the center with each of their ghouls standings to their sides. Every character has their name written above or below them, on brightly coloured backgrounds for each Papa's robe colour. Also, individual pixel art chibi drawings of 69 characters from various European musicals (listed above) that are available as stickers. These drawings are also available as badges where they are placed inside circles to show what they will look like as physical button badges, some of them with plain colour backgrounds and some with 1-3 different pride flags as examples of how you can customise the backgrounds.]

For those who want to know what the little references in the prints are and don't want to guess, they're under the cut:

Omega can be a stompy boy when he's playing guitar, Alpha likes to throw up peace signs, Air is very found of the rock horns hand symbol, there's one close-up photo of Lake out there where you can clearly see his black sclera contacts and he's doing double 'horns' hand symbol, Mountain infamously takes his shoes off when playing the drums and leaves them on the stage at the site of his drumkit, Dewdrop likes to like.. most things including his guitar and his picks and sometimes his own hand, Pebble liked to hand out his drumsticks at the end of shows by dropkicking them into the crowd, Omega wore a flower tucked into his guitar strap during one show and Terzo constantly flirts with him more than other ghouls, Delta is suspected to be the ghoul that attempted to kick an audience member off stage when they climbed onstage and attempted to kiss Terzo, Zephyr was the only band member and only keyboardist who sat down while playing, the special ghoul played by Tobias wore a nametag 'Phil' in an interview, Swiss constantly is showing all his teethies with his smiles and always wiggling and moving around, Aether and Dewdrop often interact with Dew teasing/bothering Aether, Dew and Rain also often interact with Dew constantly reaching to grab his neck and attempt to kiss him, aaaand I think that's everything I intentionally included other than just generally tried to get the poses and expressions to match the personality we've seen from each ghoul.

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loveemagicpeace · 8 days ago

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5th house - creative, joy, vibes, what do you like to do

5th house in Aries

your creativity and joy are fueled by passion, excitement, and spontaneity. You love doing things that make you feel alive—things that have an element of risk, thrill, or adventure. Your artistic expression is likely bold, raw, and unapologetic. You thrive on physical activities that feel like play—dancing, acting, or even something competitive like sports or martial arts. Spontaneous dates, last-minute trips, or doing something bold in love brings you joy. You like passionate, fast-burning, and exciting experiences in love—there needs to be heat. You’re the person who throws ideas out and gets people moving.

5th house Taurus

You enjoy artistic pursuits that engage the senses—things that feel good, look good, and have lasting value. You likely have a natural talent for art, music, fashion, or anything that involves aesthetics and craftsmanship. You love working with tangible materials—painting, sculpting, designing, singing, or even cooking could be creative outlets for you. You enjoy slow, indulgent hobbies—reading a great book, painting in the sunlight, or cooking a delicious meal. In love, you crave deep, sensual, and loyal connections. Poetry, journaling, or any form of self-reflection through art is a natural outlet for you. You enjoy romantic moments that are slow and intimate—candlelit dinners, cuddling, meaningful conversations. Physical touch is very important—you love skin-to-skin closeness, affection, and comfort in relationships. You're the type to curate a perfect aesthetic—whether it’s your outfit, your home, or the vibe of a gathering. Warm, sensual, and artistic—you bring a grounded and magnetic presence wherever you go.

5th house in Gemini

You’re naturally gifted at writing, speaking, and storytelling—poetry, short stories, journalism, or even social media content might come easily to you. Anything that involves words, ideas, or movement excites you—singing, acting, podcasting, or even stand-up comedy could be fun creative outlets. Hobbies that involve quick thinking and adaptability (like improv, trivia games, or debate) bring you joy. You’re attracted to witty, mentally stimulating partners—you need someone who can keep up with your conversation and curiosity. You’re great at entertaining people with your stories, humor, and observations.

5th house in Cancer

Your joy comes from feeling emotionally safe, nurturing others, and creating things that have deep emotional resonance. You might love nostalgic or sentimental art forms, like scrapbooking, photography, or storytelling.Your creative expression is cyclical—you create based on how you feel in the moment.Poetry, journaling, or any form of self-reflection through art is a natural outlet for you. Spending time near water (the ocean, lakes, or even a warm bath) might be particularly soothing and inspiring for you. Being around animals, children, or anything that brings out your nurturing side gives you joy. You seek deep emotional connections in romance—you don’t do casual flings unless there’s a strong emotional bond. You might be the "mother" of your friend group, making sure everyone feels included and cared for.

5th house in Leo

You naturally shine in anything artistic, and you love to express yourself in bold, dramatic, and attention-grabbing ways. You have a strong sense of personal style and might love fashion, makeup, or anything that lets you express your personality visually.You likely enjoy entertaining others, whether it’s through storytelling, humor, or just being the life of the party.Hobbies that involve performance, leadership, or creative control excite you the most.You love grand, passionate, and theatrical romance—you want love that feels like a movie. You’re drawn to partners who adore and admire you—you want to be treated like royalty.Magnetic, playful, and full of energy—people are naturally drawn to your light.

5th house in Virgo

You take a methodical and skillful approach to creativity, enjoying activities that allow you to perfect your craft. You may enjoy writing, editing, design, or any art form that involves structure and precision. Hobbies like pottery, knitting, woodworking, or technical arts could be appealing because they require patience and skill. You enjoy healthy, productive activities, like yoga, journaling, meal prepping, or DIY projects.You’re attracted to people who are reliable, intelligent, and detail-oriented.You might enjoy simple, cozy, and thoughtful dates, like cooking together, taking a walk, or sharing meaningful conversations. You don’t seek the spotlight, but your attention to detail and dedication make you stand out. You bring a calm, thoughtful, and skilled energy to any creative environment.

5th house in Libra

You have a natural flair for art, design, and all things that bring people together, whether in relationships or in creative collaborations.You’re drawn to art forms that emphasize balance and symmetry—painting, sculpture, photography, or even interior design might capture your imagination. You might also be drawn to performance arts, where the interplay of light, movement, and color creates a visually harmonious experience. Hobbies that engage your sense of style and design—like fashion, decorating, or even culinary arts—can be very satisfying. In romance, you appreciate mutual respect, charm, and an effortless sense of style. Flirting for you is an art form—graceful, playful, and refined, with an emphasis on genuine connection and shared interests.Creating a harmonious and aesthetically pleasing environment for dates or intimate moments is important. Your presence is charming and diplomatic, making you a natural at social gatherings and creative collaborations.

5th house in Scorpio

You don’t just create for fun—you create to express deep emotions, uncover hidden truths, and evolve. Your creativity is deep, emotional, and transformative—you don’t do lighthearted or surface-level art. Art forms like writing, poetry, film, music, or painting can be a cathartic way to express what words alone cannot. You have a magnetic and hypnotic artistic style, often leaving a lasting impact on others.Transformation is key—you may love alchemy, shadow work, astrology, or even extreme sports that push you beyond your limits. Love for you is intense, passionate, and all-or-nothing—you crave deep emotional and physical connections. You might experience powerful, fated love affairs that change you at your core. You don’t settle for superficial fun—you seek meaning, transformation, and raw self-expression.

5th house in Sagittarius

You approach life with passion, enthusiasm, and a thirst for knowledge, always seeking new experiences that expand your mind and soul. Your artistic style is expansive, bold, and adventurous—you love experimenting with different forms of expression. You might love writing, filmmaking, or even comedy because they allow you to share wisdom in an engaging and fun way. You find joy in travel, exploration, and expanding your horizons—whether physically or mentally. You may enjoy dancing, music, or anything that makes you feel free and uninhibited. Love for you is an adventure—you need excitement, freedom, and intellectual stimulation. You enjoy relationships that broaden your perspective on life, and you may even have a thing for long-distance romances or people from different cultures. You bring an exciting, energetic, and optimistic presence wherever you go. Your natural storytelling ability makes you a magnetic speaker, writer, or performer.

5th house in Capricorn

You take your creative projects and hobbies seriously, often striving for mastery and recognition in what you do. You may be drawn to classic, timeless art forms like architecture, sculpture, classical music, or writing. You enjoy hobbies that involve skill-building, strategy, and discipline—such as chess, calligraphy, photography, or business-related activities. Physical activities like yoga, weightlifting, or hiking may appeal to you, as they allow for gradual improvement and mastery. You are reserved at first, but once you commit, you are deeply loyal and dependable. You don’t rush into romance, preferring to build trust over time. You see relationships as an investment and don’t waste time on flings or superficial connections. You bring a calm, wise, and authoritative presence to creative environments. You prefer quality over chaos—your fun is more about achievement and excellence than reckless spontaneity.

5th house in Aquarius

You don’t follow the crowd—you create your own rules when it comes to fun, art, and romance. Your artistic style is unique, experimental, and ahead of its time—you don’t like to create the same thing as everyone else. You may be drawn to technology-driven or futuristic art forms, like digital art, film, music production, or experimental fashion. You might enjoy abstract, surreal, or avant-garde art, as well as sci-fi, astrology, or anything futuristic. Hobbies like coding, astrology, gaming, photography, filmmaking, or anything tech-related may appeal to you. You love group activities, festivals, and social gatherings, especially ones that feel alternative or different. Love for you is unconventional and exciting—you’re not into overly traditional or restrictive relationships. You might be drawn to unique, rebellious, or intellectual partners who challenge your mind. You may be open to non-traditional relationship dynamics, long-distance connections, or partners from different cultural backgrounds.

5th house in Pisces

You are highly intuitive and drawn to creative outlets that allow you to escape into other realms—whether that’s through art, music, fantasy, or romantic connections. Your artistic style is dreamy, mystical, and imaginative—you’re drawn to art forms that allow you to express deep emotions and tap into the subconscious. You might be drawn to painting, poetry, music, dance, or other fluid, expressive arts that allow you to channel your feelings and connect with others on a soul level. You may feel compelled to create works that touch on spirituality, fantasy, or escapism, or that invoke deep empathy and compassion. You may love dreaming, daydreaming, and creating alternate worlds in your mind. Hobbies like meditation, astrology, photography, or creative writing may appeal to you, as they help you connect with your inner world. In love, you crave deep emotional and spiritual connections—you’re not interested in superficial relationships. You might be drawn to idealized or romantic fantasies in love, sometimes putting partners on a pedestal or falling for someone based on a dream rather than reality.

-Rebekah☀️🍓🌙

#astrology #zodiac signs #astrological houses #my notes #astrology observations #energy #planets

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musingsofmajesty · 1 month ago

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𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 [𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 → 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬] 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝐈

summary over than span of the school year, you go from the girl who plays with Eddie's hair to so much more | wc 700

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．

Shy!eddie who doesn’t dare say anything when you begin twirling the end of his curls around your finger by week three of sitting behind him in Mrs. O’Donnell’s class.

The gentle tug feels nice, and he’d be devastated if you stopped. He knew who you were—all of Hawkins High did. You always smiled at him in the halls, and he’d know the scent of your vanilla perfume anywhere.

Then one day, playing with his hair transitions to you drawing small shapes on his back. When the dismissal bell rings, he finally musters the courage to turn around and look you in the eyes with a shy smile.

“Hey,” he says.

You realize then that he has faint freckles dotted on his cheeks. Over the bridge of his nose. You smile back like it’s the easiest thing to do.

“Hi.”

He didn’t think this far ahead. Doesn’t know what to say, so he dips his head down and lets out a chuckle while praying his cheeks aren’t the dusty pink color he remembers his mother’s rose bed being when he was a little boy.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I can stop.”

His brows lift a bit as if you startled him. He doesn’t have time to muster up a façade of nonchalance, so he rushes out, “No, it’s okay, you don’t have to. I don’t mind.”

You bite your lip and tilt your head at him as you fight off your growing smile. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Next week at lunch, you mosey over to where he’s sitting by himself listening to music.

Upon noticing you, he clumsily takes his headphones off and sets them on the table. He’s nearly halfway through his lunch. What he’s not expecting is for you to reach for the headphones and put them on your own ears. He shifts as if he instinctively wants to stop you but ends up refraining.

Warmth rises to his cheeks. “It’s, uh, Metallica.”

You hum. “Obey your master, huh?” you quote the lyrics back to him as they rattle in your ears.

Eddie smiles sheepishly.

“Are you doing anything after school today?”

He blinks like he misheard the question, but musters up an answer anyway. “I—no. Not really...”

You smile in a sweet way that makes his chest flutter. “Would you like to?”

Shy!Eddie who starts seeing you outside of school more and more. At Lover’s Lake, the diner, the arcade, Family Video. You come to realize that turtles do come out of their shells. It’s easy to talk to him, and it helps that he’s cute. He feels the same way about you.

You go to see him play at The Hideout, and wave at him from within the small crowd. You’ve listened to him practice in his room on multiple occasions, and there’s something gratifying about watching him do his thing in front of an audience of more than just you.

Shy!Eddie who lets it slip that he’s glad he met you.

One fateful evening, several months into this friendship, the two of you are sitting on his couch as rain patters onto the windows outside. There’s a sitcom playing on the TV, and even though you’re both looking at the screen, neither of you are paying attention. Over the span of thirty minutes, you’ve managed to press yourself even closer to his side without saying a single word.

Finally, like he did back before you were friends, he musters up the nerve to peek over at you. The way you bite your lip makes something flutter low in his gut.

“Hi,” he murmurs, beginning to smile because he can’t help himself.

You reach out to tug one of his curls. As you scoot even closer, your thigh presses against his. Eddie holds his breath when you close the gap between you to place a gentle peck on his lips.

“Hey,” you whisper.

Shy!Eddie who’s warm all over and can’t help but lean back in.

Thanks for reading ♡

DAY BY DAY MASTERLIST

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie munson headcanon #joseph quinn #stranger things fanfiction

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raining-anonymously · 2 months ago

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sorry but i NEED to talk about how heavily curly is implied to have poor mental health.

in our first scene as him, he’s spacing out, staring off to the side, despite actively being in conversation with anya. this could very well be dissociation.

anya then says that she wishes he would open up more. this is in the context of a psych evaluation, so the implication is that she believes curly is holding back mental/emotional struggles.

the whole blood lake scene. i personally didn’t interpret that as a diegetic hallucination, but it still certainly speaks to curly’s mental health! yes, it’s supposed to be a red herring over the cause of the crash and has all sorts of symbolism to do with the wider story, but i believe it’s meant to represent an anxiety attack, which is repressed when curly reaches the cockpit in the white void. the sudden build-up of noise and anxiety-inducing visuals feels a lot like my own anxiety.

“standing on the edge of a bridge with your feet in cement.” this an interesting line that i’ve seen a lot of interpretations of, but in my mind it implies suicidal ideation. yes, “feet in cement” brings up cement shoes, which are traditionally a murder method, but “standing on the edge of a bridge” has heavy implications of jumping off. curly does not deny jimmy’s assessment of him whatsoever. it’s interesting that this is coming from jimmy, who is shown in multiple scenes pre-crash to be attuned to curly’s emotional state enough to recognize when he’s distressed before anyone else. (edit: jimmy calls back to this statement when he’s planning on crashing the ship, saying he “gets it now” and furthering the implication that he believes curly is suicidal.)

“i’m just working on my life being a place i don’t have to fucking escape!” generally, people who are emotionally and mentally healthy do not feel the need “to fucking escape” their lives. this is also the ONLY time in the game that curly raises his voice at jimmy (edit: forgot about “what the fuck did you do?”).

curly has another weird anxiety musical sting while cutting the cake.

while heading to jimmy in the final sequence before the crash, curly has his least subtle anxiety attack, with his heart audibly pounding in the soundtrack. after jimmy leaves, curly can be heard breathing heavily to calm himself down.

curly’s “take responsibility,” “kills 99% percent,” “take care of it,” “system failure,” and “safety” flashes come across as bursts of anxiety.

he shuts down during intense conversations, which— apart from being a sign of trauma/abuse— can be a sign of anxiety or dissociation.

he has serious trouble sleeping, which can often be wrought by anxiety, depression, and other mental health issues.

#curly mouthwashing #curly mw #captain curly #mouthwashing curly #mouthwashing #curly #grant curly #analyzing anonymously

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freeabortionslol · 3 months ago

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cozy pinterest time (a lake house series fic)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

parings: luke hughes x reader, quinn hughes x reader, jack mentioned summary: fluff! reader and luke get bundled up during the christmas lake house trip to scroll through pinterest warnings!! cursing a/n: FIRST LAKE HOUSE CHRISTMAS FIC AHHHH I have more to come!! this one dives into her dynamic with luke, along with jack and quinn wc: 3.9k lake house series masterlist

Luke’s room was shoved in between yours and Jack’s. Jack got the bigger bedroom, of course, considering he shared ownership of the lake house with Quinn. Quinn’s master bedroom sat downstairs by the kitchen, something almost everyone in the house was jealous of. Trevor and Cole had a room tucked in the back of the house, one that was big enough for the both of them to share after the bedroom fiasco of last summer. Quinn was upset that his office would be turned into another bedroom, but when he remembered the tired look in your eyes after sharing a room with Trevor and Cole, he was quick to give it up. Upstairs, you and Luke’s rooms connected with a bathroom in between. Luke knew the rules- he knew to knock loudly before entering, and he knew not to enter between the hours of 9pm and 9:20pm because that’s when you’d shower. You were a good person to share a wall with. You weren’t loud, you didn’t snore, and you definitely didn’t fuck, loudly almost every night. Unfortunately, Luke also shared a wall with Jack and he did all of those things. Luke was curled up in his bed, hoodie over his head as he scrolled through instagram. He really tried to drown out the sound of Jack with his new puck bunny in his room, but it was impossible. He scoffed, stepping out of his bed quickly. It wasn’t too late, about 11pm. No one was asleep quite yet, but the day was dying down. Luke knocked on the bathroom door and walked in when he didn’t get a response. He could see the soft light glowing from your door, hearing the faint sounds of christmas music. He knocked on your door twice before hearing a quiet. “Come in,” He opened the door, stepping into your room just a foot. He glanced at you curled up in your bed, sitting against the headboard. You had a Devil’s hoodie on, the hood over your head. You were surrounded by a plethora of soft blankets and fluffy pillows, laptop on your lap. The soft glow from both of your bedside lamps bathed the entire room in cozy, warm light as quiet christmas music streamed from your speaker.

“Hey,” You said, glancing up from your laptop at Luke. He had his arms crossed, his curls poking out from underneath his hood. “What’s up?”

Luke sighed, looking down at the floor before looking back up at you. “Jack and whatever that girl’s name is are fucking.” Your brows furrowed as you listened. “Like really loudly.” He said with an annoyed tone, slightly swaying his body side to side.

You pouted your lip, trying your best not to cringe as hard as you wanted to. “Aw, poor baby.” You said gently. “No one should have to hear that. Do you want to hang out with me?” Luke’s eyes lit up in an instant. He quickly got in your bed, making himself comfortable under the covers next to you. You smiled gently as he leaned back against the headboard.

“It’s so cold in this house.” He said before shivering slightly.

You let out a gentle laugh, glancing over at him. “I know, that’s why I have so many blankets.” You pulled up another blanket, placing it over Luke’s lap. “Get comfy.” Luke took the blanket gladly, settling in further to your bed. You turned your attention back to your laptop, taking a sip of your water from the nightstand.

“Whatcha doin’?” Luke asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

“Cozy pinterest time.” You said like it was the most known thing in the world. Luke’s brows furrowed as he leaned his head on your shoulder, trying to get a better look at your laptop. He saw the page full of pictures of kitchens, bedrooms, room decor, and decorations as you scrolled through.

“What's-” He paused, taking a moment to clear his throat. “Cozy pinterest time?”

You let out a soft laugh, shifting your laptop an inch closer to him. “Every night when everything dies down, I get all cozy in my bed with christmas music and hot chocolate, and I scroll through pinterest.” Luke looked over to you whose eyes were locked on the screen, and then down at the laptop in front of him.

He smacked his lips, still trying to understand. “So, you just look at pictures?”

“Yes, and save them into boards.” Luke inched closer as you spoke, his head still rested on your shoulder. “This is my christmas board, then I have my lake house board, my beach house board, my NYC apartment board, and so many others.” You glanced down at him, his eyes still on the screen. “It's just like-...ideas for stuff.”

Luke nodded slowly, still looking slightly perplexed but intrigued. “So, like...you just imagine all these lives in all these places?” he asked, voice quieter now, as if trying not to disturb the cozy bubble you’d created.

You shrugged softly. “Yeah, kind of. It’s like...planning out a future that might never happen, or just enjoying the aesthetic of it. Sometimes I’ll see a pretty living room and think, ‘If I ever get my own house, maybe I’ll decorate it like that.’ Or I’ll see a rustic kitchen and think it would be perfect for a lake house meal, you know?” You scrolled a bit, pointing out a particularly warm-toned living room scene. “See this? Picture it. A fire crackling, big blankets everywhere, mugs of cocoa on the table, and everyone piled on the couches telling stories.” You paused, glancing down at Luke. “It’s kind of fun to think about.”

Luke let out a soft hum, his shoulders relaxing further as he pulled the blankets closer around him. He was quiet for a moment, processing. “I never really understood Pinterest,” he admitted, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his tone. “My ex-girlfriend was always on it. She once tried to show me her wedding board and it freaked me out.” He cringed a little, making you stifle a laugh.

You patted his arm reassuringly. “Wedding boards can be intense,” you agreed, eyes dancing with amusement. “But this is just about comfort and inspiration. No pressure.”

He looked back at the screen, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “This one’s nice,” he said, nodding at an image of a small cabin living room draped in fairy lights and evergreen garlands. “It’s like...if we had a smaller lake house, just for Christmas. Not so many people, not so much noise.” You tilted your head, catching the wistful note in his voice. Luke was younger, and sometimes you forgot he experienced this house and these family gatherings a bit differently. With all the commotion, Luke often floated in a middle space, old enough to understand the chaos, young enough to still crave the simpler comforts.

“Exactly,” you said softly. “It’s imagining all these little retreats where life’s simpler, quieter. Maybe no late-night hockey gear lying around, no weird hookups through the wall.” You scrunched your nose, making him chuckle quietly. “Hey, go get your laptop. We can pinterest at the same time.” Luke lifted his head, looking at you with a slight smile before racing to his room. He returned, laptop in hand, quickly making his way back to the bed. He sat next to you, both of you against the headboard. You helped when he got his laptop open, making him an account to save his ideas. The two of you fell into this cozy moment, the small christmas tree in the corner making his eyes sparkle a bit. Luke would lean over ever so often and say something like, “Wouldn’t this look good in my apartment?” or “This, but like in the foyer of the lake house.” You were happy to have a pinteresting buddy, and you were thankful that Luke was able to sit there for a long period of time and manage to stay quiet. The soft hum of christmas music played in the background, grounding you slightly as you tried not to think about Jack and his lady friend. You were managing your lake house board when you heard the door knock.

“Come in,” You said softly. The door opened gently, telling you that it wasn’t Jack, Cole, or Trevor. Quinn stood there, not having noticed Luke yet.

“Hey sun-” he started before glancing over at Luke. He let out a soft chuckle. “What are you guys doing?”

“Cozy pinterest time.” Luke said, his eyes not leaving his screen.

Quinn leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a small, bemused grin. “Cozy pinterest time, huh?” he repeated, his tone gentle and teasing all at once.

Luke scoffed quietly. “You wouldn’t get it.” He mumbled. Quinn let out another soft chuckle as he made his way to your side of the bed. He leaned his head down, his hand resting on the headboard as he looked at your screen.

“It’s uh…ideas for the lake house.” You said, whipping your head over to Quinn. He was staring at you, not your screen. It was a gentle surprise when you turned your head, seeing your faces were now only inches apart. Your cheeks flushed slightly at the sudden intimacy, trying to keep yourself content.

Quinn licked his lips, smiling softly. “Looks good,”

Your heart did a small flip at the closeness, the faint scent of Quinn’s cologne lingering in the small space between you. You managed a quiet smile, trying to focus back on the laptop. “It’s just a few designs,” you said softly, your voice carrying a note of self-consciousness. “Some decorations, maybe some new furniture for the living room next summer.” Quinn nodded his head, his lips pursing slightly. “Hey, Quinny. While you’re up, could you get us some hot chocolates please?” You said with a pleading tone.

Quinn’s brows furrowed as he stood up. “And, why would I do that?”

You and Luke looked at each other before turning back to Quinn with a pouty lip. “Because you love us.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your playful antics. He couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at his lips as he looked between you and Luke. “You two are dangerous when you team up, you know that?” You both just exchanged a knowing glance, completely synchronized in your effort to charm him.

“Please?” You added, your voice soft, almost like a challenge, as you leaned back against the headboard, batting your lashes dramatically.

Luke joined in, nudging your shoulder lightly with his. “You’re basically the king of hot chocolate, Quinn. Can’t let us down now.”

Quinn’s face softened as he sighed, clearly not immune to the collective force of your charm. He rolled his eyes but it was all in good humor. “Fine, I’ll get the hot chocolates. But only because I’m a good guy.”

“Thanks, Quinny!” you and Luke chorused in unison, both of you grinning wide, already feeling victorious.

“Don’t think this means I’m gonna start doing this every night,” Quinn warned, but his tone was warm. He gave you one last glance, the flicker of something unspoken passing between you two, before he headed toward the door.

“Of course not,” you called out with a playful tone, already turning your attention back to your cozy pinterest session.

Luke looked up at you, his face still relaxed from the quiet moment. “You’re good at getting people to do things for you,” he commented with a grin, his eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and amusement.

“No, I'm good at getting Quinn to do things for me.” You said just before turning to face Luke, a small smile twitching at his lips. You squinted your eyes, nodding your head in deep thought. “And Cole, sometimes.”

Luke let out a soft laugh. “I need to know the secret.”

You smiled slightly, your eyes widening. “Uh, I think the secret is being a hot girl.”

“Yeah, don’t think I can achieve that one.” Luke said, shaking his head “Don’t love the idea of being constantly gawked over by Cole.”

You laughed softly, a pink tint spreading across your face. “It’s not bad, actually. It got nice after a little while,” You paused, licking your lips. “And, the little moments when Quinn does it, makes up for everything.”

Luke rolled his eyes playfully, crossing his arms. “Then there's the rare moments where it’s Jack.”

You scoffed, leaning back slightly. “Yeah, but then ten minutes later he’s got some random blonde in his bed and his baby brother comes to me for comfort.”

Luke chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah, that's Jack," he teased, his tone light but with a hint of understanding. "I don't get it. He’s got the attention, the girls, the whole thing. But then he comes running to you when it all falls apart."

You shrugged, trying to hide the slight bitterness in your tone. "Jack's Jack. He loves to make things complicated, even if it’s just his love life. But at least I know he’s always there when it gets messy. Even if it’s just because he messed things up again."

Luke’s expression softened a little, the teasing fading as he processed your words. "He’s lucky to have you, you know?" He said quietly, looking over at you with an unexpected sincerity.

You met his gaze, feeling a little caught off guard by the weight of his words. "I guess so," you said softly, trying to mask the emotions that stirred beneath the surface. "But sometimes it feels like I’m just the safety net, you know?"

Luke leaned back against the headboard, eyes fixed on you. “Well, I think you deserve more than being a backup. You deserve someone who doesn’t just come to you when everything else falls apart.” His voice was low but clear.

You let out a long sigh, looking up at the ceiling. “You know, Jack and I have never been…” You looked back at Luke, your eyes narrowed. “Romantic?” Luke nodded his head, genuinely interested in your words. “But, there’s always this weird tension. I-I don’t know,” You let out a soft laugh. “Sometimes it feels like I'm like- settling? In this friendship? Like, Jack acts like we're a couple pretty much, just without the-”

“Kisses, sex, ‘I love you’s?” Luke cut you off, finishing your sentence perfectly.

You let out a quiet laugh, looking back up at the ceiling. “Exactly. It’s so…weird. A-And it’s nice, you know? Until I realize that it’s not actually like that.”

Luke smacked his lips, his brows furrowing. “Do you…have feelings for Jack-”

“No!” You shouted, abruptly cutting him off. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.” You said with a soft smile. “No, I don’t. It’s just-...it’s nice for things to feel normal like that.”

“What?” Luke asked, leaning in closer. “Like domestic, In a way?”

You paused for a moment, chewing over your thoughts carefully. "Yeah, I guess. Like...we’ve been friends for so long that sometimes it feels like we’ve already crossed into that territory, without actually being in a relationship. It's comfortable, but it’s not real, you know?"

Luke nodded his head, relaxing his posture a bit. “Well, trust me, bunny. You’re a beautiful, smart, funny, young woman. You’re gonna find someone.”

You groaned, throwing your head back against the headboard. “Everyone’s so quick to say that, but it never happens.”

Luke chuckled slightly, glancing over at you. “It’s true! Some guy will come along someday and treat you like an absolute angel. I know it.”

You smiled, fighting back giggles as you looked over at him. “Yeah,” You said loudly, your giggles intensifying. “Because my future husband is just gonna walk right through the door-”

“Hot cocoas here!” Quinn exclaimed, kicking the door open. Your smile quickly faltered, looking over at Luke who was trying so hard not to laugh. Quinn walked over, a confused look on his face as Luke let his laughs escape.

He finally finished laughing, leaning in closer to mumble in your ear. “So, does that mean Quinn is-”

“Shut up, Luke!” You groaned, shoving him with your elbow.

Luke smirked, clearly enjoying the playful chaos, but he quickly adjusted his expression to something more innocent, though his eyes still twinkled with mischief. "Alright, alright, I’ll stop." He leaned back against the headboard, clearly satisfied with the reaction he’d gotten.

Quinn shrugged his shoulders before handing over the mugs. “I think I'm future husband material.”

Your cheeks flushed in an instant as your heart dropped to your stomach. “Y-You uh…you heard that?” You stammered out, taking the mug from his hands.

Quinn gave you a sly grin, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Oh, I heard everything," he said with a teasing lilt in his voice. "But hey, you’re not the only one with ideas about future husbands, right?"

You glanced nervously at Luke, who was now struggling to hold back another laugh, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "You guys are impossible," you muttered, trying to focus on the hot cocoa in your hands to distract from the heat rising to your face.

Luke smirked, leaning closer again, his voice barely above a whisper. “So, does that mean I’m off the list, or...?” He glanced at you with a teasing look, his eyes searching yours for any sign of a reaction.

You quickly shot him a look, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping up your neck. "I swear, if you two don’t stop-”

Quinn, still holding his mug, raised an eyebrow. "What? Just saying, I went all the way downstairs to make you a cup of hot chocolate. It's a quality husband trait."

You groaned, pressing your hand to your face in exaggerated frustration. "You both are ridiculous."

Luke, unable to keep his grin at bay, nudged you gently with his shoulder. “Hey, it’s not a bad idea. I think Quinn’s onto something. Future husband material, right here.”

“Luke, you are about to get booted from cozy pinterest time.” You said with a stern voice, pointing a finger at him.

Quinn chuckled softly, putting his hands up in innocence. “I’m gonna go back downstairs. You guys have fun doing…whatever the hell this is.” You rolled your eyes as Quinn left.

You sighed dramatically the second Quinn disappeared down the hall. As his footsteps faded into the quiet hum of the house, you fixed Luke with a pointed glare. “This is all your fault,” you teased, setting your hot chocolate down carefully on the nightstand.

Luke snorted, stretching his legs out under the blankets. “My fault? I believe you’re the one who said, ‘Because you love us,’” he replied, raising his pitch to mimic your voice. “You practically cornered him into the husband territory.”

You scoffed, trying not to let your fluster show. “I was going for hot chocolate, not a lifelong commitment,” you muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. The mug of cocoa still steamed gently, the scent of chocolate and marshmallows lingering in the air. You shut your laptop, setting it down on the floor, which Luke mirrored.

“You’re so in love with him. It’s so obvious.” Luke murmured, shaking his head as he attempted to stifle a laugh.

Your face turned pink as you faced him. “Wh- you- I-...I-I’m not!” You stammered out. Luke mimicked your stuttered sentence with extreme exaggeration and you pressed your lips together, determined not to give Luke any more reasons to grin. “You’re being a child,” you said, voice low but steady. The warmth in your cheeks refused to subside, and you knew Luke could see it.

He shrugged, unabashed. “A truthful child,” he countered, leaning back into the headboard and tucking one arm under his head. “Come on, you’re not fooling me.”

You folded your arms, looking anywhere but at him. “Luke,” you began, keeping your tone calm, “I am not in love with Quinn. Can we just…not?”

Luke smirked, tilting his head. “Sure, we can not…as soon as you admit that you at least like him. Maybe a little.” His voice softened on the last part, not quite a taunt, more curious. He was your friend, after all, and he had a protective streak even when teasing. You let out a quiet sigh, fingers picking at the blanket’s edge. The truth was tangled. Quinn’s easy kindness, the way he always seemed to know when to show up with hot chocolate or a warm blanket, the subtle looks you’d share, it all made something fluttery settle in your stomach. But you weren’t about to open that up in front of Luke, not when he was enjoying this far too much.

“Let's just…watch a movie and forget about it.” You said, reaching for the remote on the nightstand. Luke stifled a laugh, shrugging his shoulders. Luke propped himself up against the headboard, stretching his legs under the blankets as you fiddled with the remote. The tension from a moment ago clung faintly in the air, but now you were determined to let it evaporate into the soft glow of the lamp and the hum of the heating vent. You scrolled through the streaming apps, your gaze fixed on the screen, resolutely avoiding Luke’s amused glance.

He kept quiet, respecting your wishes for a truce, though a small, knowing smile still played at the corners of his mouth. After a few beats of silence and aimless browsing through movie options, Luke gently cleared his throat. “Something lighthearted?” he suggested, his voice neutral, careful not to push your buttons again.

You paused, your thumb hovering over a title. “How about a rom-com or that animated holiday special they’ve got listed?”

Luke tilted his head to get a better look at the options. “The animated one might be nice,” he said, voice softening. “Something cozy and brainless. Exactly what we need.” You hummed in agreement, selecting the animated film. The screen faded to black before the gentle opening credits rolled in soft pastels. Settling back against the pillows, you tugged the blankets tighter around yourself. Luke leaned in just a bit, not crowding you, but close enough that you felt his presence. A comforting reminder that, despite the awkward teasing, he was still on your side. A soft melody drifted from the TV speakers, and the warm animation glowed on the screen. Winter landscapes, cheerful characters, no drama or complicated love triangles to navigate. Perfect. You let your shoulders ease down, exhaling quietly. The movie’s gentle storyline began unfolding, scenes painted in soft color and gentle humor. Neither of you bothered commenting much, it wasn’t necessary. The hush of the room, the quiet breath of the house settling into the night, and the simple warmth of being here, together, provided all the comfort you needed. About thirty minutes into the film you felt a weight fall onto your shoulder. You looked down to see Luke, eyes closed as he softly snored beside you. You managed a warm smile, shifting down so your head rested on top of his. With your head resting against his, you felt the subtle warmth radiating from him. His hair tickled your cheek, a reminder of the easy closeness you both shared. Despite the teasing and the earlier embarrassment, here you were, ending the night side by side, each other’s quiet anchor as the rest of the house slowly shut down for the evening. Outside, you could imagine the wind stirring the evergreens or the lake shifting under the ice. Inside, all felt calm. The entire house seemed to hold its breath, allowing you and Luke this brief pocket of stillness. You tucked the blanket more snugly around him, careful not to wake him. Whatever happened next, you were content with this moment. Just a whisper of blankets, gentle music, and Luke’s steady heartbeat close by, perfectly enough to end the night on a note of peaceful belonging.

#freeabortionslol #lake house groupchat #luke hughes #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader

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aleskie · 2 months ago

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ANYTHING THAT CAN GO WRONG WILL GO WRONG | Nico Hischier x Reader

SUMMARY: Nico wants to marry you. He's more sure of that than anything else. Things just aren't going according to plan.

Warnings: no warnings, just fluff and a lil bit of murphy's law -> happy endingggg!! Author's Note: I'm baaaaaack~~~ Happy 2025! Here's a quick lil thing to start us off this year! Thanks for tuning in MWAH

If there was one thing Nico was sure of, it was that he wanted to marry you.

He wanted to plan a wedding with you—debating seating arrangements and floral designs, choosing party favors, and having all the little arguments couples have before they find a compromise. He wanted to go on a honeymoon, maybe to Costa Rica like he’d always dreamed, or maybe somewhere else you’d want to go. Maybe both. It didn’t really matter to him, as long as you were together. He wanted to see you walk down the aisle, knowing he’d be wiping away tears as he watched you walk closer to him, step by step, towards your shared future.

He wanted to carry you across the threshold of your new home, to go furniture shopping and hang pictures on the walls. He wanted to decorate a nursery, pick out toys, and watch you laugh as you played with your child—a little person who was so perfectly both of you.

From waking up beside you each morning to arguing and making up, to coming home to you after a long, tiring day—he wanted it all. He wanted everything with you: the good, the bad, and all the imperfect, fleeting moments in between.

He has it all planned out. He’s gotten a reservation at the restaurant you had your first date in, complete with the course you had the very first time you went. Unfortunately, they said he couldn’t just reserve a specific table but they did offer him a private area that overlooks the city, so it wasn’t too bad. He’s made sure they have your favorite wine on hand, and your favorite cocktails too just in case you were feeling it that night.

After dinner, he’d take you to the ice cream parlor where you’d kissed him on the cheek for the very first time. He’d already called to confirm they still had that one niche flavor you loved—the one he was pretty sure only you ever ordered. Then, to end the night, he’d bring you to the little bookshop café where you’d shared your first real kiss.

There, he’d tell you he loved you. He’d tell you how much your smile and your laugh meant to him, how you made him a better person because you inspired him to be the best version of himself. Because he wanted to be the best person for you. He’d list all the little things he adored about you, and then he’d say what he’d been holding in his heart for so long: he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He wanted to grow old together, hand in hand.

And then, he’d kneel down and ask you to marry him.

If he was lucky—and he knew in his heart he would be—you’d say yes.

So, why has nothing been going his way?

Summers in Switzerland were one of Nico’s favorite things in the world. The weather, the views, the precious time spent with his family—Nothing could beat it. The cool breeze that wasn’t too cold, the ideal weather for hiking through the nearby mountains with his siblings, the serene lake perfect for lounging and sneaking in lazy afternoon naps—it was heaven. Most importantly, he got to see one of his favorite views: you lounging around in your swimsuits. The summer music festivals also added to the magic, offering nights filled with dancing to everything from EDM beats to indie melodies, with stolen kisses tucked between songs. Everything was just…perfect.

But it was during what was supposed to be an idyllic lake day that things began to unravel.

He and Luca were on the porch, getting the grill ready for lunch. They worked and chatted side by side, oiling the grates, filling the drum with coal, and securing everything in place. From the corner of his eye, Nico spotted you and Nina lounging by the pier, chatting and sipping the margaritas you’d mixed earlier. You were all smiles, relaxed in a way that made his heart swell. He loved how effortlessly you fit in with his family. It only strengthened the resolve in him to officially make you a part of it.

He gave Luca a pat on the back before heading toward you, his steps light, his mood lighter.

“Well, we’ve talked about it, but maybe we’re both not there yet,” he heard you say as he approached, “I mean, I am. But I don’t know if he is.”

“Oh, you’re both there,” Nina replied confidently, her voice teasing and certain, “Trust me.”

“You think so?” Your voice softened, and Nico could almost picture the way your lips curved into a smile. As he got closer, curiosity stirred in his chest. What were you two chatting about? There wasn’t much you hadn’t discussed or aligned on. Communication was a cornerstone of your relationship.

Then Nina spoke again, her voice laced with the telltale looseness of someone a little too tipsy. And just like that, everything clicked.

“Oh, honey, you should’ve seen the ring!”

Nico froze, his stomach flipping. He saw the instant regret flash across Nina’s face—eyes wide as she processed saying something she shouldn’t have.

“What ring?” you asked, tilting your head in curiosity, the gears in your mind already beginning to turn.

But Nico wasn’t about to let you connect the dots. Not yet.

“Nina!” he called out, his voice cutting through the summer air as he quickened his pace, “Luca needs you with the grill!”

Nina turns back, a wave of relief flashing across her face as she downs the rest of her drink in one swift motion. "Tell him I’m coming!" she calls out, her voice a little too cheerful as she rises from her seat.

Before rushing off, she leans down to give you a quick hug, murmuring just loudly enough for Nico to hear, “I didn’t say anything.”

Nico rolls his eyes as she brushes past him, clearly trying to cover her tracks. The damage was already done, but he wasn’t about to let it spiral further.

He stalks closer, his annoyance melting away as his gaze settles on you. You’re lounging in one of his shirts, the oversized fabric falling to the middle of your thighs, the sleeves brushing your forearms. The way it drapes over you makes his heart flutter—like you belong to him in the most effortless, natural way.

“Hi, baby,” he says, his voice warm as he leans on the armrest of the thick lounge chair you’re perched on.

You look up at him, your brows slightly furrowed, your lips parting as if to speak. He knows that look—you’re trying to piece together what Nina let slip, to draw some kind of answer from him without having to ask outright.

He doesn’t give you the chance.

Reaching down, he picks up the margarita you’d been nursing and takes a slow, deliberate sip, all while keeping his eyes on yours. “Mmm,” he hums appreciatively. “This is good. You make the best drinks, you know that?”

“Honey.” Your voice is sharp with curiosity, your eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “What ring is she talking about?”

He chuckles, a soft sound meant to disarm you as much as his grin—a grin he hopes doesn’t betray his nerves. “Nina’s just had a little too much to drink. It’s nothing you need to worry about.” He shrugs, aiming for nonchalance.

Not yet, anyway.

You tilt your head, skepticism written all over your face. It’s clear you’re unconvinced, and Nico can feel a bead of sweat trickling down his back despite the cool summer breeze. He knows you well enough to sense that you’re on the verge of figuring it all out. He also knows you’re kind enough to let him off the hook, to leave the surprise intact—if only because you love seeing him squirm just a little.

A knowing smirk tugs at your lips, your eyes sparkling with amusement. “Alrighty,” you say, drawing out the word teasingly. “If you say so.”

Nico exhales a small breath of relief, his grin widening.

“Did Luca actually need help with the grill,” you ask, arching an eyebrow, “Or did you just want to steal my drink?”

He laughs, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Who knows?” he murmurs, handing the glass back to you.

As the two of you settle back into the quiet, the soft lapping of the lake filling the space between you, Nico can’t help but smile to himself. He’d already bought the ring—in the exact cut you wanted, with the metal band you’d once hinted was your favorite—and it was scheduled to arrive soon.

The moment Nina had so carelessly hinted at was fast approaching, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when it finally happened.

It was rare for Nico to have an entire free day to spend with you, which made the moments all the more special when they came around.

The day had started perfectly. He woke up to find your arm draped across his middle, your soft breaths tickling his skin. For a moment, he stayed there, watching your peaceful frame, memorizing the way the morning light kissed your face. Eventually, he slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb you, and made his way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

When you woke up, you found him at the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease. The smell of bacon and coffee filled the air as you padded over to wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his back. You ate together, sharing syrupy bites of pancakes and stealing sips of each other’s coffee.

After breakfast, you both moved to the sink. It turned into a dance of domestic harmony—you washed the plates while he dried them, sneaking in playful splashes of water that made you both laugh.

Later, you got ready together. In the shower, he lathered shampoo into your hair while you ran soapy circles across his back. When you stepped out, he sat you on the bathroom counter, your lips forming a dramatic pout as you begrudgingly trimmed his beard.

By mid-morning, you were tangled together on the couch, a blanket draped over you as a show played in the background. His arm rested beneath your head, your legs stretched across his lap. It was his own little slice of heaven, perfect and untouched by the outside world.

And then, you said you had errands to run.

“It’ll only be for a few minutes,” you promised, stroking his head with a teasing grin as he groaned in protest.

“Fine,” he relented, though his pout remained firmly in place. He basked in the soft kiss you planted on his lips before you grabbed your bag and turned to leave.

The door clicked shut, and the silence that followed felt too loud. He sighed dramatically, sinking deeper into the couch. Reaching for a pillow, he hugged it against his chest, letting it stand in as your replacement.

With you gone, he turned his attention back to the show, finding himself unexpectedly drawn into the plot. Still, every so often, his mind wandered to you—wondering how long the errands would take, what you might bring back, and how soon he could coax you back into his arms.

He sighs. Even a few minutes felt too long without you.

It takes an hour for you to return, your tote bag filled with simple ingredients for a late-lunch-early-dinner combo. Nico perks up from the couch as soon as he hears the door open, his pout fading into a grin. In your hands, he spots a small brown package, which you place on the kitchen island before unloading the groceries.

“I ran into the delivery guy on my way back,” you explain casually, arranging the fresh vegetables in the fridge. “This came for you.”

“Ah,” he says, pausing the show he was watching. “Must be the hoodie I ordered a few days ago. I was wondering when it would show up.” He glances over, smiling. “Wanna open it?”

“Open my new sweater?” you tease, shooting him a knowing look as you retrieve a pair of scissors from the drawer. “Don’t mind if I do.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. He knows full well that every hoodie of his eventually finds its way into your closet.

Carefully, you slice open the tape and pull apart the packaging. But instead of a soft bundle of fabric, you reveal a small box, no larger than the palm of your hand.

You pause, curiosity piqued. It doesn’t look like a hoodie, and for a moment, you think maybe it’s one of his surprises for you—a pair of earrings or a delicate necklace, perhaps. With a small smile, you lift the lid of the box.

Inside, nestled against a soft velvet lining, is a ring.

It’s not just any ring. It’s the ring. The one you’d described to him in passing all those months ago. The gemstone, the cut, the metal band—every detail is exactly what you’d envisioned, as if he’d plucked the idea straight from your heart.

Your breath catches, and your vision blurs as tears spring to your eyes. It’s not just the ring—it’s what it represents. The thought of him listening so carefully, of him tucking away every detail you’d shared, hits you like a wave. You already knew he loved you, that he listened to you, but seeing it embodied in something so meaningful overwhelms you.

“Baby?” Nico’s voice pulls you back. He’s standing behind you now, concern etched on his face. “What’s wrong?”

You turn to him, your lips trembling as you hold up the small box. His eyes flick down, and the moment he recognizes it, his heart drops.

The very box he chose so carefully. The very ring he agonized over, wanting every detail to be perfect for you. The very thing he’d been planning to surprise you with, just a few weeks from now.

For a second, neither of you speaks. The air feels charged, suspended between panic and love, between what was supposed to be and what is now.

“I…I wasn’t supposed to see this, was I?” you finally say, your voice soft, tinged with both awe and regret.

He rubs the back of his neck, letting out a breathy laugh. “No, not quite yet.”

You place the box down on the counter, turning to him fully. “But you were going to ask me?”

He looks at you, his nervous energy fading as he takes your hands in his. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah,” he admits. “I was.”

“You want to marry me?” Your voice trembles, thick with emotion.

He nods.

The tears fall freely then, happy and unrestrained, as you throw your arms around him. His hold on you is firm and protective, his heart pounding against your cheek as you press against his chest.

“The answer is yes,” you whisper, your words muffled by his shirt but carrying all the weight of your feelings. “You know that, right? It was always going to be a yes.”

“I know.” His voice is soft as he kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering there. “But I want to do this right. I’m going to propose properly—on one knee and everything.”

You lean into his touch as he cups your cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear. “Is that okay?” he asks, his gaze earnest.

You smile, your heart filled with nothing else but love for the man holding you in his arms. “It’s perfect.”

Today was the day.

After months of careful planning, of waiting for just the right moment, Nico was finally going to ask you to marry him. Every detail had been meticulously thought out, adjusted, and readjusted after that fateful day you accidentally found the ring.

The memory still made him cringe. He’d quickly hidden it in a new, foolproof spot (his gym bag—a place you never ventured) and rescheduled everything. The bookstore café was unfortunately booked for an event tonight, but the ice cream parlor was still part of the plan, and the dinner reservation at the restaurant where you had your first date was secured.

He’d chosen tonight—your anniversary—for the proposal because it felt just right. The date was sentimental enough to mean something but obvious enough for you to dismiss it as “too cliché.” It was perfect. You would never see it coming.

“Nico, can you help me zip up my dress, please?” Your voice called out from the changing area of your shared bedroom, pulling him from his thoughts.

He turned to see you standing in front of the mirror, the white dress he’d picked out for you half-zipped, slipping precariously off your shoulders. You looked stunning—effortlessly radiant, like you always did—but tonight, something about seeing you in that dress made his heart skip a beat.

“Of course,” he said, his voice soft as he walked over to you.

His hands brushed lightly against your back as he grasped the zipper, pulling it up slowly. But he couldn’t resist leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder. Then another, and another, his lips trailing up your neck in a way that made you laugh softly, tilting your head to the side to give him more room.

“Nico,” you chided, though your tone was anything but stern.

“What?” he said, grinning against your skin. “You’re gorgeous. Can you blame me?”

He finally finished zipping up the dress, his hands lingering on your waist as he turned you to face him. “You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, his eyes focused on yours.

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t hide your smile. “You’re just saying that because you picked the dress.”

“Maybe,” he teased, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. “But you’re always breathtaking to me.”

Your cheeks flushed, and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at the sight. He was going to make you blush like that every day for the rest of your lives, starting tonight.

“Whatever you say, Captain Smooth-talker,” you said, shaking your head but still smiling, “If we don’t leave soon, we’re going to miss our reservation.”

He nodded, his heart racing with anticipation. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

He took a deep breath as he grabbed his jacket. Tonight was the night. By the end of it, if you hadn’t changed your mind, you’d be his fiancée.

The two of you arrive just in time to be seated at the table Nico had carefully arranged. The private area overlooked the city, the lights from the streets below twinkling like a sea of stars. It was breathtaking, but not nearly as much as the way you looked as you gazed out at the view.

“Honey, this is beautiful” you say, your lips curving into a soft smile as you sat down.

“Not as beautiful as you,” he replied smoothly, earning an eye-roll and a bashful grin from you.

The waiter arrived promptly to take your drink orders, and soon, the meal began. The first plates brought out were appetizers—delicate and artfully arranged. But Nico knew you well enough to know that, for you, the true star of the opening act wasn’t the small plates but the breadbasket that accompanied them.

“God, this bread is amazing,” you said, your eyes lighting up as you took a bite.

Nico chuckled, watching you enjoy the fresh, crusty loaf slathered in butter. “I had a feeling you’d like that.”

“You know me so well,” you teased, reaching for another piece.

“I try,” he said with a chuckle, though the statement carried more weight than you realized. Tonight was all about how well he knew you—what you loved, what made you happy, and what kind of future you dreamed of.

The entrees arrived next, perfectly timed to follow the appetizers. Nico tried to focus on his meal, but his mind was racing. The ring in his jacket pocket felt heavier than it had any right to, as if it was reminding him of the significance of what he was about to do.

He stole glances at you throughout the meal, his heart swelling every time you laughed at something he said or leaned closer to share a bite of your dish. You were the person he was going to spend the rest of his life with, and tonight, he was going to make it official.

As the plates were cleared and the waiter offered dessert options, Nico mentally rehearsed what he was going to say. He cycled through his bullet points, recalling the memories he wanted to highlight—the milestones, the quiet moments, the inside jokes only the two of you understood. Every detail of your relationship had led to this moment, and he wanted to do it justice.

While you shared a slice of cake, he alternated between admiring the way your eyes lit up with every bite and fine-tuning his speech in his head. The sound of your laughter when you joked about how you could live on this dessert alone was enough to settle his nerves for a fleeting moment.

“Here,” he said, offering you the last bite of cake with a smile.

You took it gladly, humming in delight as you savored the sweetness. Nico couldn’t help but grin. This was what he loved most—seeing you happy, knowing he was part of the reason why.

He shifted slightly in his seat, reaching for his jacket draped over the back of his chair. This was it. The moment he had been planning for months. Everything was about to fall perfectly into place.

His fingers slid into the inner pocket, brushing against the fabric as he searched for the small velvet box.

Except it wasn’t there.

His heart stopped.

He stilled, trying not to let his expression betray the rising panic inside him. Discreetly, he checked the pocket again, this time more frantically.

Nothing.

His breath hitched as he patted down every pocket—inner, outer, even the ones he knew he wouldn’t have used. It wasn’t there.

Panic tightened in his chest.

You tilted your head, noticing his sudden fidgeting. “You okay?”

“Uh—yeah,” he said quickly, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Just…thought I forgot something, but it’s nothing important.”

It was a lie. A big one. Because what he’d forgotten was the most important thing of all.

The ring.

His mind raced, retracing his steps from earlier in the day. And then it hit him like a freight train. It wasn’t here. It was still at home, tucked away in the hidden compartment of his gym bag where he’d stashed it months ago for safekeeping.

Fuck.

He glanced at you, trying to keep his composure. You were oblivious to the turmoil raging inside him, busy taking a sip of your drink and remarking on how beautiful the view looked under the night sky and how the restaurant has always been one of your favorites.

He was supposed to be getting down on one knee right now, asking you the question that had been on his mind for what felt like forever. Instead, he was sitting here empty-handed, grappling with the colossal oversight that threatened to derail everything he had planned.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Resigned, he sighs quietly.

At least you’d still get your ice cream afterwards.

For the rest of the night, Nico’s heart raced as he scrambled to act normal, though he knew he was failing miserably.

“You’re acting weird,” you said from the passenger seat, concern etched on your face as you took another bite of your ice cream. “What’s wrong, hun?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. “Just…a little tired, I guess.”

Understatement of the year.

You hummed in response, a little unconvinced, but quickly launched into a happy recount of the night—the food, the breathtaking view, how much the evening reminded you of your first date. Nico nodded along, forcing a smile and interjecting when he could, though his mind was racing. He was relieved to have deflected your attention, but the frustration simmering inside him was relentless.

How could he have forgotten the one thing that mattered most? The question plagued him, cycling in his mind like a broken record. He needed to clear his head, or else the night would spiral even further.

Without warning, Nico pulled over to the side of an empty road, the car coming to a gentle stop next to an open field bathed in moonlight.

“Nico?” you asked, confused as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. You watched him for a moment, his silhouette illuminated by the glow of the streetlights and the faint flicker of fireflies in the distance. Concern gripped you, and you quickly followed, calling after him as he walked into the field.

“Nico, what’s wrong? Please, just talk to me,” you pleaded, your voice soft but insistent as you reached him.

He turned to face you, his expression shadowed by a mix of guilt and vulnerability. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at you—really looked at you. The way the light caught in your eyes, the slight furrow of your brows, the way the wind tugged at your hair. Even like this, worried and uncertain, you were breathtaking.

A pang of guilt hit him like a punch to the chest.

Taking a deep breath, Nico reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “I wanted tonight to be special,” he said, his voice low and almost apologetic.

You tilted your head, confusion softening your features. “What do you mean? It’s our anniversary—it is special.”

“Not like that,” he said, shaking his head. He stepped closer, his hesitation palpable. “I…I forgot something tonight.”

Your frown deepened. “Did we leave something at the restaurant? We can always go ba—”

“No,” he interrupted, his voice a little firmer this time. “It’s not about the restaurant. I forgot something important, and I couldn’t…I couldn’t do what I wanted to do.”

“Nico?” you asked again, your voice laced with curiosity and a flicker of nervousness.

He closed the distance between you, pulling you closer until you could hear the rapid thrum of his heart. His hands trembled slightly as they held yours, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.

“I’ve been planning this for months,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I wanted everything to be perfect—the dinner, the timing, all of it—even the ice cream. But I messed up. I forgot the ring.”

You blinked, the words sinking in. “The ring?”

His gaze softened as he looked deeply into your eyes, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. His hand lingered, his fingers cupping your cheek gently. “Yeah,” he said, his voice steady despite the rapid pounding of his heart. “The ring I was supposed to pull out tonight. The ring I picked out because I knew it was exactly what you’d want. The ring I got because I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Your breath hitched, tears welling in your eyes as his words settled over you like a warm embrace. Your lips trembled as you watched him drop to one knee, his hands enveloping yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

“I don’t have the box with the ring. And I’ve completely forgotten everything I’d planned to say.” He let out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But know this—I love you. Even now, especially now, when all I have is me and my love for you.”

He pressed a kiss to your hands, his touch reverent, as though grounding himself in the moment. Then, his voice dropped to a whisper, earnest and raw. “This isn’t the perfect proposal I had in mind, but I have to ask…”

He looked up at you, his eyes glimmering with sincerity and hope. “Will you marry me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seemed to still. The gentle rustle of the grass, the soft hum of crickets, the distant glow of fireflies—it all faded, leaving just the two of you.

Then, like a dam breaking, laughter bubbled out of you—a breathless, joyful sound that lit up the quiet night. Without hesitation, you dropped to your knees, pulling him into a kiss so fervent it knocked the two of you backward onto the soft grass. He landed with a gentle oof, his arms instinctively wrapping around you as you hovered over him, your tears mingling with your smile.

“Yes,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. “A million times yes.”

Relief and pure, unfiltered happiness coursed through him, his grin widening as he pulled you close, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. “I’ll make this up to you,” he promised, his voice muffled against your shoulder, though there was a lightness in his tone now. “The perfect ring, the perfect proposal—I’ll do it right.”

You pulled back slightly, shaking your head with a radiant smile. “You already did.”

He smiles and pulls you into another kiss. The fireflies danced around you, the world continuing on, but for you both, time felt suspended—an endless moment of love and joy and a future that had just begun.

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