#main thing I have to worry about is running out of space

[medicinemane]

Sometimes it's like... is this person just... a very slow typist... or are they really choosing their words and adding and deleting a bunch of stuff

(this is obviously about seeing people respond on discord and then seeing the message they typed compared to when they started typing it)

[jjscrybaby]

prompt 5: ‘they’re all lying’

jj maybank x fem!reader | fluff | (meeting the pogues, anxiety, jj being adorable, drinking, mentions of weed, embarrassing stories.)

not proofread! send reqs!

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“I’m nervous,” you admitted softly, JJ’s hand in yours as the two of you walked down the street towards the Chateau.

The blonde let out a soft chuckle, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles. He gave your hand a squeeze, trying to comfort you so you didn’t take offence from his amusement. “You have nothin’ to be nervous about.”

“I do, J!” You bickered, pouting over at him with a look of irritation. He laughed again, making you pull your hand away from his. “It’s not funny.”

He stopped walking, grabbing your waist so that you would stop with him. His hands rested on your hips as he smiled down at you. “I’m sorry, baby, you’re right, it ain’t funny. But trust me, you don’t need to be scared. All we’re doin’ is sitting around drinking beer.”

“They’re gonna be judging me the whole time, making sure I’m good for you,” you argued, avoiding eye contact with him.

Deep down you knew you were over-reacting. JJ’s friends, the Pogues, were known for being the most chill group around the island. All they did was smoke, surf and drink. But this was different than meeting any old boyfriend’s friends; you were meeting his family. You were well aware of JJ’s childhood — his mom leaving and his dad being an asshole — so you also knew how much his friends meant to him.

John B had been in his life since he was a kid, and the others came along throughout the years. He talked about them like they hung the moon and the stars, and all you wanted was for them to like you. You’d been putting it off for weeks, always coming up with excuses so you didn’t have to tag along but he could see straight through you. It was the most annoying thing about him.

“I promise, sweetheart, they’re gonna love you,” he soothed, one of his hands moving up to run through your hair. You swatted his hand away, having spent half an hour perfecting it.

“What if they don’t?” You asked quietly. Your biggest worry wasn’t that they weren’t going to like you, but that JJ would agree with them.

As said, he can see right through you, so the question sent all amusement off his face. “Hey. You don’t need to worry about us, okay? You’re my girl, right?” You nodded slowly. “Then there’s nothin’ to worry about. Now come on, let’s go get some booze in you.”

“Okay,” you hum, re-taking his hand to make the rest of the walk.

You weren’t even in the backyard before you could hear the sound of laughter and chatting, JJ gave you a reassuring smile and lead you around the side of the house to where they were sat. Kiara had her legs thrown over Pope’s lap, a joint in hand, John B was sipping on a beer and talking with Pope and Sarah was on her phone next to him. Very chill.

“The main attraction has arrived!” JJ yelled, getting all their attentions and a glare from you.

“There they are,” Kiara grinned lazily over at the two of you. He lead you closer and she held her hand up in a wave. “I’m Kie, nice to meet you.”

You introduced yourself, giving her a shy smile as John B stood up and threw his arm around your shoulders. “So you’re the girl that JJ’s utterly obsessed with?”

“Uh… I hope so,” you laughed, making the rest of them chuckle too.

“Come sit,” Sarah instructed, tapping the space beside her. “We want to hear all about how JJ is as a boyfriend.”

You looked back at JJ, who gave you a nod. Sarah beamed as you sat down beside her, instantly asking you every question that came to her mind to do with you and JJ; how you met, who initiated the first kiss, what his love language is. After Kie wasn’t quite so high, she came and joined the two of you to get in on the details.

A couple hours had passed, you were having fun with the girls as the three boys listened in every now and then — just to have some extra ammo to tease JJ with later on. It was the time of the night that you were all buzzed and the embarrassing stories had begun.

“He had this serious crush on her, no need to get jealous he was only nine, but he decided the best way to get her attention was dump mud all over her at recess,” John B explained, a wide grin on his face.

You giggled as JJ covered his face with his hands, embarrassed. “Did it work?”

“No!” John B exclaimed, chuckling. “She told the teacher on him so he put bugs in her pencil case.”

“What a romantic,” you teased, turning to a red-faced JJ beside you. He flipped you off, and then turned to John B and kept it up.

From that story, more just came to the Pogues. They spent the next excruciating (for JJ) hour telling you everything they could think of. There was the time he got caught pissing in a bush by an elderly couple and tried to explain it away by saying his pants fell down. Sarah was so excited to tell you about him accidentally wearing Kie’s jeans to school after a heavy night that she fell right off her chair.

You were leant against JJ’s shoulder, giggling still. The stories had died down, but every time they replayed in your head you’d fall into a fit of laughter once again.

“They’re all lying,” JJ stated, sipping on his beer with a small smirk.

“We have photographic evidence,” Pope argued, pulling his phone out. JJ was tackling him to the ground in seconds.

You weren’t sure what you’d been so worried about, in reality JJ should have been the one panicking.

[tinystepsforward]

autocrattic (more matt shenanigans, not tumblr this time)

I am almost definitely not the right person for this writeup, but I'm closer than most people on here, so here goes! This is all open-source tech drama, and I take my time laying out the context, but the short version is: Matt tried to extort another company, who immediately posted receipts, and now he's refusing to log off again. The long version is... long.

If you don't need software context, scroll down/find the "ok tony that's enough. tell me what's actually happening" heading, or just go read the pink sections. Or look at this PDF.

the background

So. Matt's original Good Idea was starting WordPress with fellow developer Mike Little in 2003, which is free and open-source software (FOSS) that was originally just for blogging, but now powers lots of websites that do other things. In particular, Automattic acquired WooCommerce a long time ago, which is free online store software you can run on WordPress.

FOSS is... interesting. It's a world that ultimately is powered by people who believe deeply that information and resources should be free, but often have massive blind spots (for example, Wikipedia's consistently had issues with bias, since no amount of "anyone can edit" will overcome systemic bias in terms of who has time to edit or is not going to be driven away by the existing contributor culture). As with anything else that people spend thousands of hours doing online, there's drama. As with anything else that's technically free but can be monetized, there are:

Heaps of companies and solo developers who profit off WordPress themes, plugins, hosting, and other services;

Conflicts between volunteer contributors and for-profit contributors;

Annoying founders who get way too much credit for everything the project has become.

the WordPress ecosystem

A project as heavily used as WordPress (some double-digit percentage of the Internet uses WP. I refuse to believe it's the 43% that Matt claims it is, but it's a pretty large chunk) can't survive just on the spare hours of volunteers, especially in an increasingly monetised world where its users demand functional software, are less and less tech or FOSS literate, and its contributors have no fucking time to build things for that userbase.

Matt runs Automattic, which is a privately-traded, for-profit company. The free software is run by the WordPress Foundation, which is technically completely separate (wordpress.org). The main products Automattic offers are WordPress-related: WordPress.com, a host which was designed to be beginner-friendly; Jetpack, a suite of plugins which extend WordPress in a whole bunch of ways that may or may not make sense as one big product; WooCommerce, which I've already mentioned. There's also WordPress VIP, which is the fancy bespoke five-digit-plus option for enterprise customers. And there's Tumblr, if Matt ever succeeds in putting it on WordPress. (Every Tumblr or WordPress dev I know thinks that's fucking ridiculous and impossible. Automattic's hiring for it anyway.)

Automattic devotes a chunk of its employees toward developing Core, which is what people in the WordPress space call WordPress.org, the free software. This is part of an initiative called Five for the Future — 5% of your company's profits off WordPress should go back into making the project better. Many other companies don't do this.

There are lots of other companies in the space. GoDaddy, for example, barely gives back in any way (and also sucks). WP Engine is the company this drama is about. They don't really contribute to Core. They offer relatively expensive WordPress hosting, as well as providing a series of other WordPress-related products like LocalWP (local site development software), Advanced Custom Fields (the easiest way to set up advanced taxonomies and other fields when making new types of posts. If you don't know what this means don't worry about it), etc.

Anyway. Lots of strong personalities. Lots of for-profit companies. Lots of them getting invested in, or bought by, private equity firms.

Matt being Matt, tech being tech

As was said repeatedly when Matt was flipping out about Tumblr, all of the stuff happening at Automattic is pretty normal tech company behaviour. Shit gets worse. People get less for their money. WordPress.com used to be a really good place for people starting out with a website who didn't need "real" WordPress — for $48 a year on the Personal plan, you had really limited features (no plugins or other customisable extensions), but you had a simple website with good SEO that was pretty secure, relatively easy to use, and 24-hour access to Happiness Engineers (HEs for short. Bad job title. This was my job) who could walk you through everything no matter how bad at tech you were. Then Personal plan users got moved from chat to emails only. Emails started being responded to by contractors who didn't know as much as HEs did and certainly didn't get paid half as well. Then came AI, and the mandate for HEs to try to upsell everyone things they didn't necessarily need. (This is the point at which I quit.)

But as was said then as well, most tech CEOs don't publicly get into this kind of shitfight with their users. They're horrid tyrants, but they don't do it this publicly.

ok tony that's enough. tell me what's actually happening

WordCamp US, one of the biggest WordPress industry events of the year, is the backdrop for all this. It just finished.

There are.... a lot of posts by Matt across multiple platforms because, as always, he can't log off. But here's the broad strokes.

Sep 17

Matt publishes a wanky blog post about companies that profit off open source without giving back. It targets a specific company, WP Engine.

Compare the Five For the Future pages from Automattic and WP Engine, two companies that are roughly the same size with revenue in the ballpark of half a billion. These pledges are just a proxy and aren’t perfectly accurate, but as I write this, Automattic has 3,786 hours per week (not even counting me!), and WP Engine has 47 hours. WP Engine has good people, some of whom are listed on that page, but the company is controlled by Silver Lake, a private equity firm with $102 billion in assets under management. Silver Lake doesn’t give a dang about your Open Source ideals. It just wants a return on capital. So it’s at this point that I ask everyone in the WordPress community to vote with your wallet. Who are you giving your money to? Someone who’s going to nourish the ecosystem, or someone who’s going to frack every bit of value out of it until it withers?

(It's worth noting here that Automattic is funded in part by BlackRock, who Wikipedia calls "the world's largest asset manager".)

Sep 20 (WCUS final day)

WP Engine puts out a blog post detailing their contributions to WordPress.

Matt devotes his keynote/closing speech to slamming WP Engine.

He also implies people inside WP Engine are sending him information.

For the people sending me stuff from inside companies, please do not do it on your work device. Use a personal phone, Signal with disappearing messages, etc. I have a bunch of journalists happy to connect you with as well. #wcus — Twitter I know private equity and investors can be brutal (read the book Barbarians at the Gate). Please let me know if any employee faces firing or retaliation for speaking up about their company's participation (or lack thereof) in WordPress. We'll make sure it's a big public deal and that you get support. — Tumblr

Matt also puts out an offer live at WordCamp US:

“If anyone of you gets in trouble for speaking up in favor of WordPress and/or open source, reach out to me. I’ll do my best to help you find a new job.” — source tweet, RTed by Matt

He also puts up a poll asking the community if WP Engine should be allowed back at WordCamps.

Sep 21

Matt writes a blog post on the WordPress.org blog (the official project blog!): WP Engine is not WordPress.

He opens this blog post by claiming his mom was confused and thought WP Engine was official.

The blog post goes on about how WP Engine disabled post revisions (which is a pretty normal thing to do when you need to free up some resources), therefore being not "real" WordPress. (As I said earlier, WordPress.com disables most features for Personal and Premium plans. Or whatever those plans are called, they've been renamed like 12 times in the last few years. But that's a different complaint.)

Sep 22: More bullshit on Twitter. Matt makes a Reddit post on r/Wordpress about WP Engine that promptly gets deleted. Writeups start to come out:

Search Engine Journal: WordPress Co-Founder Mullenweg Sparks Backlash

TechCrunch: Matt Mullenweg calls WP Engine a ‘cancer to WordPress’ and urges community to switch providers

Sep 23 onward

Okay, time zones mean I can't effectively sequence the rest of this.

Matt defends himself on Reddit, casually mentioning that WP Engine is now suing him.

Also here's a decent writeup from someone involved with the community that may be of interest.

WP Engine drops the full PDF of their cease and desist, which includes screenshots of Matt apparently threatening them via text.

Twitter link | Direct PDF link

This PDF includes some truly fucked texts where Matt appears to be trying to get WP Engine to pay him money unless they want him to tell his audience at WCUS that they're evil.

Matt, after saying he's been sued and can't talk about it, hosts a Twitter Space and talks about it for a couple hours.

He also continues to post on Reddit, Twitter, and on the Core contributor Slack.

Here's a comment where he says WP Engine could have avoided this by paying Automattic 8% of their revenue.

Another, 20 hours ago, where he says he's being downvoted by "trolls, probably WPE employees"

At some point, Matt updates the WordPress Foundation trademark policy. I am 90% sure this was him — it's not legalese and makes no fucking sense to single out WP Engine.

Old text: The abbreviation “WP” is not covered by the WordPress trademarks and you are free to use it in any way you see fit. New text: The abbreviation “WP” is not covered by the WordPress trademarks, but please don’t use it in a way that confuses people. For example, many people think WP Engine is “WordPress Engine” and officially associated with WordPress, which it’s not. They have never once even donated to the WordPress Foundation, despite making billions of revenue on top of WordPress.

Sep 25: Automattic puts up their own legal response.

anyway this fucking sucks

This is bigger than anything Matt's done before. I'm so worried about my friends who're still there. The internal ramifications have... been not great so far, including that Matt's naturally being extra gung-ho about "you're either for me or against me and if you're against me then don't bother working your two weeks".

Despite everything, I like WordPress. (If you dig into this, you'll see plenty of people commenting about blocks or Gutenberg or React other things they hate. Unlike many of the old FOSSheads, I actually also think Gutenberg/the block editor was a good idea, even if it was poorly implemented.)

I think that the original mission — to make it so anyone can spin up a website that's easy enough to use and blog with — is a good thing. I think, despite all the ways being part of FOSS communities since my early teens has led to all kinds of racist, homophobic and sexual harm for me and for many other people, that free and open-source software is important.

So many people were already burning out of the project. Matt has been doing this for so long that those with long memories can recite all the ways he's wrecked shit back a decade or more. Most of us are exhausted and need to make money to live. The world is worse than it ever was.

Social media sucks worse and worse, and this was a world in which people missed old webrings, old blogs, RSS readers, the world where you curated your own whimsical, unpaid corner of the Internet. I started actually actively using my own WordPress blog this year, and I've really enjoyed it.

And people don't want to deal with any of this.

The thing is, Matt's right about one thing: capital is ruining free open-source software. What he's wrong about is everything else: the idea that WordPress.com isn't enshittifying (or confusing) at a much higher rate than WP Engine, the idea that WP Engine or Silver Lake are the only big players in the field, the notion that he's part of the solution and not part of the problem.

But he's started a battle where there are no winners but the lawyers who get paid to duke it out, and all the volunteers who've survived this long in an ecosystem increasingly dominated by big money are giving up and leaving.

Anyway if you got this far, consider donating to someone on gazafunds.com. It'll take much less time than reading this did.

[waayoutofline]

Avoiding every mistletoe (Until I know It’s true love)

Marvel Masterlist

PROMPTS: Shy Natasha Romanoff and Lab Assitant!Reader

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Tags: Fluff, awkward and clumsy Nat, Tony's lab asistant reader, christmas fun! ( posting this during actual christmas), meddeling avengers, a sprinkle of hurt/comfort.

Summary —> Ever since Natasha met you, Tony's new brilliant assistant, she has been down bad. But her sudden lack of confidence around you banishes every hope for her to make a move. Christmas is around the corner, and the team knows about your superstitious nature. There seems to be a clear answer: Mistletoes.

WC: 5473

Warnings: Descriptions of making out, but not explicit sexual content.

***

November was in full swing at the Avengers Tower, which meant sophisticated red, green, and gold decorations adorned every surface, Christmas songs played on an endless loop through the speakers, and the unmistakable aroma of gingerbread wafted (somehow) through the air.

As was classic Tony Stark fashion, a lineup of extravagant holiday parties had already been scheduled and meticulously planned for execution. Natasha Romanoff though was already dreading it.

Hoping to avoid any unnecessary interaction, she quietly sneaked into the communal kitchen, intent on grabbing a couple of waffles Wanda had made earlier. But as soon as she stepped in, she felt the weight of several pairs of eyes on her back.

“Ah, Miss Romanoff, there you are!” Tony’s voice rang out, cheerful and full of purpose. He was already decked out in one of his newest suits—sharp, festive, and annoyingly ostentatious.

Sighing, Natasha turned around, realizing it was too late to make a run for it. She was greeted by the sight of her team sprawled across the couches and armchairs in the lounge, each of them absorbed in their own activity, but now casually watching Tony’s sudden commotion with mild interest.

“Morning,” Natasha grunted, reluctantly moving to join them, plate in hand.

“Just the person I was looking for!” Tony said, flashing a shit-eating grin as he patted the empty space beside him on the couch.

Instead of humoring him, Natasha settled herself on the fluffy rug in front of the coffee table, placing her plate down without a word.

“You are officially invited to the pre-Christmas party hosted by moi,” Tony declared dramatically.

“Tony, you literally held us hostage at one last week. I still have a hangover,” she deadpanned, recalling flashes of the chaos where even she had gone overboard with the alcohol, thanks to Sam Wilson’s stupid drinking games.

“Oh, come on! This one’s different. It’s intimate—just for us heroes and co,” Tony countered, undeterred. Then, leaning back smugly, he added, “I even got the space lady to come. How awesome is that?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Oh don’t be boring. Where’s the wild Natasha Romanoff we all love?” Tony teased, grinning as if to provoke her.

“Easy. She doesn’t exist,” Natasha replied flatly, cutting into her first waffle. She let out a satisfied hum at the sweet taste.

“These are amazing, Wanda,” she said, looking over at the young witch.

Wanda, sitting comfortably on a loveseat, smiled warmly at the compliment. “Thanks, Nat.”

“Is it a new recipe?” Natasha asked, curious.

“Yes, actually. I added a bit of cinnamon and—”

“Okay, okay!” Tony interrupted, baffled by the lack of attention he was receiving, looking bewildered between them two. “Let’s get back to the main thing here. Are you coming?”

At Natasha’s reluctant silence, Steve stepped in with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Natasha. I’ll make sure he’s on his best behavior.”

“Ugh, boring—” Tony groaned, dragging the word out in sing-song. But under Steve’s hardened stare, he sighed in defeat. “Fine. It’ll be a cozy hangout. No traces of fun or whatever,” he relented, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Taking another bite of her waffles, she carfulkly took a sip of her coffe, trying to hide her smirk as she sees Tony waiting in anticipation fo her response. “Fine.”

Tony threw a punch onto the air, clapping in victory. “Carol is coming you said?”

He nodded proudly. “Yeah I managed to rope her and her little sidekick in. There is also the kid, Clint and his family…”

”Dont forget Strange.” Bruce, who just entered the living room reminded. Tony grumbled a bit at that. 

“Yeah, Houdini too. Scary lady and Patch eye…god were those hard to convince— Oh and my lab assistant too.” Nathasa choked at that.

”Assistant? She practically takes over your lab.” Bruce chuckled. 

Tony rolled his eyes, but there was no hint of malice. If anything, a spark of pride made his eyes a bit brighter. “Yeah well, I taught her well. Did you knowl that last week she-“

 Nathan’s brain disconnected at a scary speed after those words. Images of you hit her hard, and she could already start to feel her heart race a bit. 

Y/N Y/L/N was Tony Stark’s most recent lab and tech assistant, and to say he was impressed would be an understatement. After reviewing your résum��, Tony had practically declared you a godsend. You were one of the rare people who could keep up with his eccentricities, effortlessly managing the stream of tasks he threw your way. It didn’t take long for you to earn a permanent spot at the Avengers Tower.

Natasha remembered the first time she saw you as if it were yesterday. She had been on her way to ask Tony for a replacement for her gauntlets after a particularly rough mission. When she stepped into the lab, though, she was surprised to find someone else hunched over the workbench.

Frowning, Natasha set her hand on the fingerprint scanner, the door sliding open with a soft whoosh. At the sound, the stranger turned around, and Natasha froze in place.

For her, the world seemed to stop spinning, settling into an almost unnatural silence. You were… ethereal. 

In her life, Natasha had faced aliens, wizards, and even sentient robots. So how far-fetched was it to assume she was now standing face to face with an angel?

Even though you didn’t know her, a gentle smile settled on your lips, your gorgeous eyes peering at her with almost childlike curiosity. Natasha stood there, frozen in place, unable to move. It wasn’t until something shifted in the silence that she remembered to breathe again.

Startled, she realized she hadn’t moved from the doorway. The door had automatically closed where she stood, trapping her. Embarrassed, she quickly stepped forward, pushing herself to snap out of it.

And, of course, she had to stumble. The gauntlets she was holding slipped from her grip and fell to the floor with an unforgivable thud. Cringing, she immediately knelt down to retrieve them. What she didn't expect was for you to do the same, even if your movement were more calm. 

She flustered when she dared to look up, finding your own awaiting gaze. “Well, if they weren't broken before, they sure are now.” You joked with a smile, tone teasing but not judging. 

Blinking, Natasha started sputtering, not really knowing what to say. Or how. “Yes.” 

“Yes” is what her stupid brain decided to go for. Even thinking about it even now, her face scrunch with self embarrassment. What was even happening? Taking a breath, she redirected her eyes to the ground. Right, the gauntlets. They are broken. Need them fixed.

Finally standing up, she forced her body not to fidget. As if sensing this, you offered a hand to her. “Y/N Y/L/N, Mr.Starks new hire here in the lab.” 

Tentatively, she accepted the shake. Her mind hanging on how your hand seemed to fit into hers. “Natasha Romanoff. Um, avenger.” 

God what’s wrong with her? You giggle at that, and the sound is enough to get her out of her head. Of course that the sound is also beautiful. Was there anything about you that wasn’t? Why is she even think that?

 “I know. Pleasure to meet you, Ms.Romanoff. So…may I help you with those?” You ask, your hand still being held by hers. Noticing this, Natasha removed her grip as if you were burning. 

“Please.” She ended up saying, utterly embarrassed by her behaviour. Still, you gave no sense of judgment, only nodding and taking her over the workbench. 

She stayed with you all that evening. And most of the next ones after that. 

***

Her infatuation with you only seemed to grow since that first meeting, and the others quickly picked up on it. They saw it in the way Natasha—the most grounded person they knew—started sputtering and flustering whenever she talked to you. The unshakable confidence she was known for seemed to melt under the warmth of your sunshine smile and the twinkle of mischief in your eyes.

And as much as they insisted for her to make an actual move, Natasha refused. 

“Uh-oh, I know that look.” Wanda sang, like a high school girl teasing her friend in high school when they listened the name of their crush. Rolling her eyes, Natasha scoffed.

”There is no look.”

”Oh, but there is.” Clint, who was watching Sam and a struggling Bucky play Mortal Combat added, not even looking away from the screen. “Your pupils practically shape into hearts— likes a lovesick puppy. It’s almost painful to watch.

”Shut it Barton.” 

You were too good for her, Natasha decided on her own. You were like the sun, kind and warm, gentle in a way that it was entirely selfless. Natasha's life was one of dangers and precautions, she didn’t want to expose you to any of the threats that surrounded her lifestyle. 

Even if she ached to be close to you, call you her own. 

“Now it’s the time to make a move. Who knows? Maybe you will find each other under the mistletoe.” He adds with a wink.

Tony hummed. “Hm, that’s actually a good idea.” 

Her head whipped toward him. “Don’t even think about it, Stark. Besides, that’s a stupid tradition. How do you even know that Y/N would willingly kiss someone just because a stupid parasitic plant is above her?”

They all laughed at that.

“Our Y/N? Please. She practically had a mental breakdown when I broke a mirror in the lab the other day,” Tony quipped, grinning.

Wanda nodded in agreement, casually flipping through the pages of her book. “Yeah, once she made me search the entire tower for something made of wood to touch, just so I wouldn’t jinx the next mission after I mentioned a hypothetical worst-case scenario. Still don’t get that one.”

Natasha’s face went pale at that, remembering a conversation she’d once had with you. You had mentioned that, while you didn’t fully believe in superstitions yourself, your family did, and it had resulted in some strange and unshakable habits for you. “Better safe than sorry,” you had said with a shrug.

A cold sweat made her tremble slightly, worsening by all of a sudden interested and sneaky grins on her friends faces. 

Whatever, she still can not go.

***

She still had to go.

When you confirmed your attendance, you clapped excitedly, rambling about how fun it would be to spend your first Christmas together. You even brought it up when she bought you lunch—a frequent occurrence, since you often got so engrossed in your work that you forgot to eat. Natasha would be lying if she said your words didn’t tug relentlessly at her heart.

And so, there she was, surrounded by the thrumming chaos of an all-together gathering, overwhelming decorations, and overly festive arrangements at every turn. Anxiety prickled at her as she glanced toward the newly decorated attic. They couldn’t possibly have infested the entire place with mistletoe, right?

Wrong.

They were everywhere.

On every doorway, on the stairs, in the high columns and ceilings, even on top of the Christmas tree, scattered around—everywhere she looked, there it was. Mistletoe.

Trying to shake it off, Natasha focused her attention on the ground, her sharp gaze scanning for the culprit behind this festive ambush.

“Tony!” she half-yelled, her steps quick and deliberate as she marched toward the eccentric billionaire, who was in the middle of a conversation with Pepper.

His head whipped toward her, a flicker of fear flashing across his face before his usual smug smirk returned.

“Care to explain?” she demanded.

“Explain what, exactly? My fantastical abilities to host, or…?” he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement.

She glared furiously. “Aw, c’mon, don’t look so grumpy, Grinch! This is a time of tradition, joy—”

“And manipulation?” she interrupted through gritted teeth. “This is way too much.”

Despite her glare and the unmistakable edge in her voice, Tony remained unfazed. If anything, his amusement only grew. He glanced over her shoulder, his expression brightening as he perked up.

“Well, complaints are non-refundable. Sorry, it’s the new policy. If you’ll excuse me, Pepper needs me to sign some super high-confidence document, right, dear?”

Pepper frowned. “What are you talking ab—”

Before she could finish, Tony gently grabbed her hand and began steering her away, the two trailing off into the crowd.

Natasha was about to follow and press him further, but a voice behind her made her freeze.

“Nat, hey!”

She turned around, and suddenly, everything seemed to slow down for her. There you were, wearing a comfy red sweater, black jeans, and a pair of Mary Janes. Your hair, usually tied back for work, was flowing freely, framing your face. It was a simple, casual look, but Natasha felt her face heat up at the sight of you.

As you got closer, alarm bells blared in her mind. Her eyes darted upward, and her stomach dropped. One of those dreaded mistletoe clusters hung right above where you were heading.

Panicking, she practically sprinted toward you, desperate to avoid both of you standing under it. But she miscalculated her speed, and before she knew it, she was barrelling straight into you.

You let out a startled huff as her momentum almost knocked you over, but her quick reflexes kicked in, and she steadied you before you could stumble.

“Geez, Romanoff,” you joked, brushing yourself off as you smiled up at her. “We just saw each other this morning. Did you miss me that much?”

Your teasing tone and warm voice snapped her out of her panic, but the damage was done. Natasha’s heart was hammering in her chest, her senses overloaded as she became acutely aware of how close you were. The soft warmth of your body pressed lightly against hers, the delicate scent of cocoa beans, coconut, and something distinctly you filling the air around her.

Her cheeks burned as her mind scrambled for something—anything—to say as she looked down at you, mortified. Luckily for her, your attention diverged when someone from the staff (who even brings staff in closed up parties?) bough a chocolate fountain in a rolling chair. “No. Way.— I thought he was kidding!” 

And just like that you went off excitedly, a silhouette of dust being the only trace of you left. Sighing, Natasha brought her hand to her racing heart, trying to figure out a way to survive this evening. 

Her eyes opened again in determination, she was going to take off these damned things, starting with the one right on top of her. 

***

This task, however, grew increasingly difficult as the evening wore on. Between being roped into endless conversations, you constantly looking out for her (and her desperately trying to avoid you), and the absurd number of mistletoes everywhere, Natasha felt like she was fighting a losing battle. It was as if they were multiplying before her very eyes.

Her frustration peaked during a particularly embarrassing moment—one where, of course, you were the witness.

After listening to Peter and Kamala endlessly gossip about high school drama, Natasha had collapsed onto the sofa, her patience hanging by a thread. As her gaze wandered across the room, her eyes landed on the ceiling—and there it was. Another  mistletoe. This one was perched slightly higher than the others, hanging right above the beanbag chair where you often sat. Of course.

Those strategic bastards.

Taking advantage of everyone being distracted in the kitchen, she sprang into action. With no ladder in sight, she grabbed a nearby chair and carefully climbed onto it. Still too short to reach, she braced herself against the shelves, stretching precariously as she balanced. Every slight wobble of the chair made her heart lurch, but she pressed on, determined to remove the offending decoration before anyone noticed.

But of course, that was the moment you walked in, calling for her.

“Nat? Aren’t you hungry? I saved you some of those little pies you like so much—”

Your voice startled her, and she immediately looks down at you. Her grip slipped briefly, the chair wobbling dangerously beneath her.

“Y/N! Shit—” she hissed, her heart leaping into her throat. Scrambling to steady herself, she clung to the edge of the shelf and managed to avoid completely losing her balance. She froze, her cheeks heating as she realized you were staring at her, bewildered.

“What… are you doing?” you asked, the corners of your lips quirking up in confusion and slight amusement.

Blushing furiously, Natasha’s mind scrambled for a reasonable explanation. “Um… I was just… looking for Clint? You know how much he loves to hide up here.” she said with a nervous laugh, trying to sound nonchalant.

Before you could respond, someone brushed past you, momentarily breaking the tension.

It was Clint, holding a bottle of rosé wine, with the kids trailing behind him. “No alcohol until you’re 21,” he announced, his tone firm but playful.

“But I am 22!” Kate argued.

Clint snorted. “Sure you are.”

As they disappeared into the kitchen, you turned your attention back to Natasha. Arching an eyebrow, you crossed your arms, your curiosity clearly not satisfied.

“Oh, great! There he is!” Natasha blurted, clinging to her flimsy excuse. She waved awkwardly in Clint’s general direction, desperate to change the subject. “Let me just—”

But as she began stepping down, her foot slipped on the edge of the chair. She let out a startled gasp as she lost her footing entirely.

”Oh my- Natasha!”

***

She even tried to gain support in enemy territory.

“Steve!” she called out. The man looked over at her and clearly tried to sneak off, but it was too late. “Just how many are there?” she asked, her desperation evident. So far, she’d removed eight mistletoes and had endured three risky situations where she’d practically had to run away from you.

“Of what?” Steve replied, taking a sip of his drink, feigning ignorance.

Natasha huffed, crossing her arms. “Please, let’s skip the act. I know you also took part in this.”

Steve remained silent, his expression unreadable but gullible. Natasha sighed in exasperation. “Come on, Steve, you’re the most reasonable one out of all of them. Just tell me where the rest of the mistletoes are!”

She could see the guilt on his face—he was clearly uncomfortable. Steve Rogers wasn’t a man who lied easily. As he opened his mouth, clearly about to crack, Sam and Wanda swooped in.

“What are we talking about?” Sam asked with a goofy smile, casually draping his arm around Steve’s shoulders as if shielding him from her interrogation.

Natasha’s left eye twitched. “You know exactly what, Wilson.”

“Hmm, do I?” Sam teased, his grin widening.

Natasha ignored him, focusing on her second-best shot, since it was clear Steve wouldn’t be of much use now.

“Wanda,” she said, turning to the witch, “how many mistletoes are there?”

Wanda shrugged, playing innocent.

“If you tell me…,” Natasha added, her voice turning sly, “I’ll lend you those boots of mine you like so much.”

Wanda hesitated at that, her composure faltering slightly. “… The ones with the metal buckles?”

“The ones with the metal buckles.”

Wanda’s eyes glinted with temptation as she weighed her options. But after a brief internal debate, she furrowed her brow and firmly shook her head and crossed her arms. “No. We’re doing this for your own good, Natasha.”

Natasha laughed forcefully, her expression taut with frustration. “For my own good? I’m losing my sanity over here, Wands.” Her tone was sharp, but her forced smile remained plastered on her face.

Just then, a voice cut through the air, making Natasha freeze.

“Have you guys seen Natasha? I swear I just keep losing track of her today,” you said, your voice light-hearted as you spoke to Bruce and Tony.

The group perked up at your words, and Natasha’s head snapped toward the sound of your voice. There you were, standing across the room, looking as radiant as ever as you chatted with the two men.

As Tony and Bruce were about to point in her direction, Natasha didn’t waste another second—she quickly ducked behind the rolling chocolate fountain cart, slipping out of sight just in the nick of time.

***

It all came down to the climax of the party. Most of the children were asleep by now, and only the closest circle remained. Natasha was exhausted but relieved. She had finally managed to get rid of all the mistletoes, even if, in doing so, she had humiliated herself in ways she hadn’t thought possible.

Now, she could finally relax and hang out with you. Or at least, that’s what she thought. A wolf whistle and cheers erupted from her friends, who had formed a circle outside on the terrace. Curious, she approached, only to regret it immediately as she was squashed between Steve and Bucky.

Her face went pale as she saw the final mistletoe, hanging right above you and a smug Carol Danvers. In her frantic pursuit of avoiding standing under a mistletoe with you, someone else had managed to get there before her. This outcome was far worse, and dread filled her as she watched the scene unfold.

She couldn’t stand it. The way Carol got closer with bravado and you, with a smile (it was more polite and friendly than anything, but at that moment she didn’t see it like that), made her heart drop.

The world once again slowed down, but this time it was for her and you. And she just couldn’t stand it. Shattering the slow-motion moment, her mouth and body moved faster than her mind.

“Wait! You’re supposed to kiss under the mistletoe, not near it! I mean—look at that angle, it’s tilted and all wrong. Besides, is it me or are the leaves…wait, let me just scoot over here—” she muttered, pushing her way through the onlookers to get to the mistletoe. Everyone went quiet in surprise as she reached it and caressed the leaves. You just stared at her, but she seemed to pay no mind. “Ah, as I thought! These leaves are all dried. How about we replace it? Here, I know where we can find a suitable one. Will you come with me, Y/N?”

Without thinking, she took your hand and practically dragged you away, turning back toward the group. “We’ll be right back.”

Everyone remained quiet as they watched the two of you disappear.

***

“Here, let me just…” Natasha started, trying to find her card in her pockets. “Where did I—ah, here.”

With quick motions, she attempted to swipe the card to unlock her room. You stood behind her, watching her increasingly desperate attempts to open the door.

“Nat…” you started softly.

Chuckling awkwardly, she waited for the green light, but it still wasn’t processing for some reason. “These are so annoying. I keep insisting to Tony that he should just put in a code, but he doesn’t listen—”

“Nat.”

“Typical of him, I know. Let’s try again.” Waiting for the red light to turn off, she swiped again, and this time the light turned green. “There, finally.”

You tried calling her again, but she interrupted. “Sorry for the wait. There are some left in my room, let’s just pick one and…” She said, turning the handle and opening the door, knowing that all the stolen mistletoes were in the corner.

“Natasha!” You finally yelled, making her turn around with wild eyes. Uh oh, you almost  called her Natasha.

Your face held no negative feelings, only the patience you were known for. “Nat.” Slowly, you grabbed her trembling hand and got a bit closer. Your worry made her squirm.

“What’s going on?” you started softly, as if trying not to scare her. The consideration and gentleness in your voice made her almost burst into tears. “You’ve been behaving… strange this entire party. Running around all over the place… avoiding me.” You whispered the last words, clearly pained, and her heart shattered.

The last thing she wanted was to make you feel bad. “Did I do something wrong?”

Your question was so raw, your expression vulnerable, and Natasha wanted nothing more than to wrap you in her arms, kiss you gently, and reassure you that you didn’t—couldn’t—do anything to upset her. But she couldn’t, and the knowledge of it broke a little bit more.

“No, no, of course not. It’s just—” She started, her words getting stuck in her throat, unsure of how to put them together. “The others decided to put the place swarming with mistletoes.”

You looked at her in confusion. “Okay…why?”

Refusing eye contact, Natasha took a deep breath, her heart pounding so loudly that she thought you could hear it. Without dropping your hand, she stepped a little closer, her legs slightly trembling. She figured the best thing to do was to just say it and get it over with. She had already been making a fool of herself the entire day. But saying it was harder than she thought it would be. The fear of rejection was suffocating her.

“Because…” Finally daring to look at you, her neck reddening all up to the point of her ears, being suddenly conscious of the warmth radiating. “Because they know how serious you are about superstitions. And that if we got caught under one, then I… then I would finally dare to kiss you.”

The admission came as a whisper, shame and embarrassment hitting her like never before. It was as if she was going to combust from the inside. A pause hung between the two of you, each second of it feeling like a stab straight to her chest.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine losing you. You had become so close this year, and to think that just a couple of silly words could ruin everything was killing her. Her eyes closed tightly, waiting for the worst—a rejection, disgust, or just pity. Any of these would shatter her.

But it never came. Instead, she felt warmth—a gentle caress on her cheek, you softly urging her to open her eyes and look at you. Your face was far from the rejecting one that Natasha’s brain had conjured. Instead, it was a reassuring one, with a bright smile like the one you first gave her the day you met, your eyes soft and bright under the lights.

She blinked, as if the soft touch had pulled her back from her darkest places. Her heart seemed to stop, no longer beating out of fear but for hope. Because as she studied you, she saw nothing but kindness and happiness.

“You… you’re not upset?” she asked, as if it were too good to be true.

Your smile widened, laughing softly under your breath at her surprise. “Nat, how could I ever be upset? I—” This time it was you who searched for the right words, your cheeks flushed with a lovely rosy color that Natasha couldn’t help but find fascinating. “How could I, when I’ve been waiting for you to do this for quite some time?”

Your admission hung in the air, like a symphony. Natasha could feel the weight of the world lift from her shoulders. “You have?”

“Of course I have.” You confessed, as if the question were ridiculous to even ask. “You’ve been everything my heart has been yearning for, Natasha.”

Natasha sure wasn’t a poet, but right now she was seeing the world as one. The way in which your words embraced her, your slightly dilated eyes looking at her as if she was the only one on your mind.

Was this what the others saw? The look she has been too oblivious to see?

She wanted to hit her head in frustration, all the time wasted because of her doubts. But she was free of them now, having you as her savior.

Getting closer, she dared to pull you closer by your waist, marveling at how it felt in tandem with her movements, as if you two had done this a thousand times before, in different lives, before this one.

“So… you’re telling me I made that champagne pyramid fall all over Fury for nothing?” she asked, as if it were a secret.

You laughed loudly at that, remembering the moment when Natasha stumbled all over the table later on in the evening. Everything seemed to make sense now.

“You know…” you started, the laughter dying down as you softly tucked a piece of Natasha’s hair behind her ear, your touch lingering on her jaw. “For someone so intelligent and charismatic, you sure are clumsy at times.”

Natasha huffed, rolling her eyes with an affectionate smile. “Only because you…” she started, but caught herself, her eyes slightly widening.

You arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Only because of that? Do I make you nervous, Romanoff?” You grinned, adoring the way she seemed lost for words.

Sputtering, she tried to defend herself, but someone beat her to it.

“Very much so!” Tony yelled.

Your eyes snapped toward him, only to see the team huddled up behind the corner.

You snickered, Natasha flustered. “What are you…? Go away!” She hesitated.

Tony smirked. “Not so fast, Romanoff! You have to kiss.”

Confused, she followed his hand motion, only to see a mistletoe floating with surrounding red magic.

“Damn it, Wanda…” she muttered, but you just laughed at your friend’s antics, hiding your face in her shoulder.

Natasha’s attention shifted back to you, her smile filled with adoration. Finally, you peered up at her.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to…” she started shyly, not wanting to pressure you into doing anything. But you only got closer to her.

“I don’t know, I think you do owe me a kiss,” you replied with a grin. “You know, to balance the universe.”

“Yeah…” she muttered, eyes lowering. “To balance the universe.” She reaffirmed, leaning down. But before her lips touched yours, she gripped you and dragged you both into her room, slamming the door shut. She ignored the muffled complaints heard from the hallway as she pinned you against it, wanting to have you all to herself.

Connecting her eyes with yours, she searched for any trace of doubt, but found nothing but darkened irises. Hesitation left her once and for all as she leaned in, her lips meeting yours. She sighed, and everything else seemed to fade into the distance.

The kiss was slow at first, gentle and tentative, giving you both time to discover each other. But the passion, held back for so long by insecurities and “what ifs,” broke free like a dam, intensifying everything tenfold. Her hand gripped your waist slightly harder, while one of your hands trailed up to her hair, tugging it just enough to make her shudder. Urgently, she pulled you even closer, as if afraid you might disappear.

Her breath quickened as she felt your body pressed against hers. The kiss deepened, turning frantic with all the pent-up desire. Suddenly, you tugged at her bottom lip, almost provocatively, as you looked up at her through your eyelashes. Natasha groaned, her heart racing. It was like seeing a whole new side of you, and she just couldn’t get enough.

Licking into your mouth, she hummed as your knees seemed to buckle, holding your hips to make sure you didn't fall.  No, you weren’t going anywhere. Not when she finally had you in her arms.

You could feel the tension in her body as you traced her shoulders and back, her muscles tensing with every movement. It was as if she couldn’t get enough of you, kissing you—consuming you with everything she had.

It left you breathless. If anything, air became the only obstacle, the only force capable of separating you. Both gasping for breath, you didn’t dare to say anything for a moment, just taking in the overwhelming sensation of being so close, so lost in each other. 

“You know, technically…” you started slowly, a playful smirk on your lips. “Technically, you interrupted my kiss with Carol before.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, her grip on you tightened, a small growl escaping her at the thought of anyone else getting the chance to do what you had just done. But you quickly calmed her, softly cupping the side of her face. “So, you owe me another kiss.”

She looked at you with darkened eyes, a mix of desire and challenge in her gaze. “I guess you’re right… We wouldn’t want to have bad luck.”

“Of course not,” you repeated, your lips brushing against hers as you gently guided her closer. “You know how superstitious I am.”

“Yes, I do,” she whispered, a teasing smile crossing her face as she closed the distance.

[feroluce]

I have finally finished 2.4 and oh my GOD watching Dan Heng be so protective of his friends nearly killed me, MY HEART.

And yes, the cutscene where he pushes the trailblazer out of the way and even cushions their fall with his own body, but I mean even before that! When he was already trying to protect them and March 7th from Feixiao and Lingsha!!

Because if you watch the dango trio throughout the main quest, you'll notice that they often position themselves in the same way, which is a detail that makes me super happy that Hoyo thought to include- when the three of them aren't evenly spaced, March 7th and the trailblazer tend to gravitate towards each other and stand very close together, frequently side-by-side. And by comparison, Dan Heng usually stands slightly away, and often even slightly behind them, where he can pull on their leashes to wrangle them keep an eye on them.

This is probably a habit learned through experience, since March 7th said during Belobog she is the "queen of unannounced disappearances" fjdksajfkldjsak

And of course at least a little bit of it is just done for like, aesthetic purposes. It's a video game. Things have to look nice for the player. The trailblazer and Dan Heng are the same height, March 7th is a bit shorter, and Yanqing is even smaller. It makes sense to have the trailblazer and Dan Heng stand on the ends, with March 7th and Yanqing in the middle, it just looks nicer and more balanced that way. But still! Even when they're accommodating for Yanqing in this quest, they still all arrange themselves the same way, almost every time!

But this changes after Dan Heng and Yanqing become suspicious of the visitors from the Yaoqing.

The dango trio still stand around relaxed and in their usual manner when they go to the artisanship delve and meet Skott,

but Dan Heng takes notice of Lingsha when she arrives, and he and Yanqing mentioned her specifically when discussing their worries.

Yanqing worrying so much about Jing Yuan got me right in the heart, he's such a good boy WEH

And when the four of them go out to the alchemy delve to meet Lingsha for tea, the pattern breaks. Suddenly Dan Heng is standing right up front, and even walks in and enters the scene before March 7th and the trailblazer to get to Lingsha before them. He stays a step in front of them the whole time, too.

And then when Dan Heng and the trailblazer have to go be interrogated by Feixiao! The same deal! Dan Heng walks in ahead of them and stays in front of them! Noticeably so! Enough that even Feixiao takes note and voices it!

Dan Heng is so so fiercely protective of his companions, and I love it, I adore hyper vigilance in the wake of trauma like this, I'm so excited to see what else he does in 2.5, I hope we either get to see him get fucked up or the trailblazer gets fucked up in his place, I wanna see them run through the meat grinder!!!

[xomakara]

Next Door To Forever

SUMMARY |  You thought you would never see the guy you'd have a one night stand with but when you meet Haechan again at a club and when you find out he's your neighbor, you can't help but be intrigued by him.

PAIRINGS | Haechan x Reader

GENRE |  college!student!Haechan, college!student!Reader, Nerd!Haechan, college au, one night stand, smut,

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, drinking, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (both male/female receiving/giving), public blowjobs, creampies, praise kink, pet names

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

LENGTH |  12,532 words

TAGLIST | @hisunflower

NETWORKS | @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Oh god, I hope this turned out okay. Maybe it's because I'm always the worst critic of my own work so I always never feel satisfied about it lol. Been awhile since I wrote a Haechan fic and lately, he (and Jaehyun) have been flooding my feed. I hope you all like it!

After moving the last of your boxes into your spanking new place that would be yours for the next few years of school, you flop down on the bare mattress in the middle of the living room that the movers left there. You were just thankful that they set up the frame. You really weren't up to doing any more heavy lifting and the mattress was the only thing left to do before the moving van left.

Your new place was located in an apartment complex that was a good distance away from the main campus. It was perfect for you because you weren't fond of all the ruckus going on in the dorms. You were a junior so the thought of having to live in a crowded building full of underclassmen was less than ideal. Plus you really weren't interested in going through all the trouble of trying to get roommates. So you decided to take this opportunity to live alone and get an apartment of your own.

Apartment hunting was no joke and you had been at it for almost two weeks until you finally found this place. It wasn't too far from campus but the price was right and the size was just perfect for you. The rent was pretty reasonable and it wasn't in a bad neighborhood.

You sigh as you stretch yourself out and lay your head on the pillow. You didn't have a TV yet or any furniture besides a mattress, a couch and a coffee table. That would be something you'd have to take care of later. Your phone rings and you pull it out of your back pocket and check the caller ID. It's your parents and you know what they're calling about. They're still trying to convince you to let them help with the apartment.

"Hi, mom."

"Hi honey. How did the move go?" Your mom's voice sounds through the speaker.

"Good. It's finally over." You speak into the speaker and run a hand through your hair, sweeping your bangs back off your face.

"We wish we could have been there to help." Your mom sighs through the receiver.

"It's fine mom. I managed." You sit up on the bed.

"Are you sure?" Your mom insists.

"Yeah, it's not like I had a lot to bring with me." You say as a look around the large empty space, save for the boxes lining the wall and the mattress that you are sitting on.

"Do you need anything? Any furniture? Food?" Your mom offers.

"Food would be great, mom. Thanks." You respond, suddenly getting the realization that you were hungry and hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.

"Your father and I are sending you a care package with some food, toiletries and other things you might need." Your mom says.

"Thanks." You smile, looking forward to the package. "You don't have to, y'know." You add.

"Don't worry. We'll also send the money that we would have used for furniture. Just go and get what you want and don't worry about the cost." Your mother says.

"Really, mom?" You ask, almost in disbelief.

"Yes, it's not a big deal." Your mother adds.

"But mom, you and dad are retired. I don't want to use your retirement money." You argue.

"Your dad won't take no for an answer. Besides, your brother and sister-in-law are sending you some money too." She explains.

You sigh in defeat. Your mom and dad had always been stubborn and they were hard-headed when it came to taking care of their kids. You didn't want to fight it, especially since it would be pointless. "Alright, mom. But make sure you take money from Minhwan-oppa and Nari-unnie too. I don't want you and dad spending too much money on us. I want you guys to spoil yourself once in a while."

"That's very thoughtful of you, sweetheart. We will do that. I'll text you when we send the package." Your mother replies.

"Ok, thanks mom." You say gratefully.

"No problem. Love you, honey." She answers.

"Love you too." You finish the call with a smile and lean back on the bed to rest.

You hang up and lay there in silence. It had been a long day and you were exhausted. You had been packing and moving for the last few weeks and the stress was starting to get to you. You were ready for a break.

Your phone rings again. It's your brother, Minhwan.

"Hey, oppa."

"How are you holding up, Y/N?" Minhwan says into the receiver.

"Tired but otherwise ok." You muttered. "Did mom talk to you? She's been on my ass about sending money to me."

"She mentioned it but I told her I wanted to talk to you first." He answered.

"Thanks, oppa. I appreciate it." You sigh gratefully.

"So, do you need anything? Money, clothes, food, whatever? I'm sending you an additional package with mom's." Minhwan tells you.

"Well, yeah. I need food and toiletries and stuff. But, I don't want to ask too much of you and unnie." You admit.

"Don't worry, I'll talk to Nari and we'll make sure you get everything you need. And I mean everything." Minhwan emphasizes the last word.

"Oppa..." You murmur, catching his tone.

"It's ok. You're our baby sister. Let us do this. Don't worry, we're not hurting for money. I'm a doctor and Nari is a lawyer, remember?" He laughs.

"Ok, I guess. But don't spoil me too much. I'm not going to be independent if you keep spoiling me." You frowned. "At least spend it on mom and dad. Buy them a trip somewhere or something."

"We'll take care of that too." Minhwan said. "But the money will be going to you first."

"What? But-" You stuttered, stunned.

"I gotta go, Y/N. Nari's calling me." You heard the unmistakable sound of her voice on the other side.

"Oppa-"

"I'll talk to you later."

He hangs up before you can say anything else. You sigh and close your eyes. You could use a nap right now.

Your stomach growls loudly and you sit up and stretch. "Well, I can't go to sleep now. Not until I eat something."

You stand up and grab your wallet, then head downstairs to the nearest convenience store. The streets were pretty quiet and there was a slight breeze. You could smell the scent of spring in the air and hear the rustling of leaves in the trees. It was a beautiful night. You reach the corner and turn onto the street where the convenience store is located. There are a couple of other college kids hanging out around the front door. One of them calls out to you as you walk past.

"Hey, Y/N!"

You stop and turn to look at him. It's Mark, a friend of yours that's in the same program as you, that also lives in the same apartment building. "Hi, Mark."

"What's up? Where are you off to?" He smiles at you.

"I was just gonna get something to eat. I just moved into the building, you know." You laughed.

Mark's eyes widened. "Oh shit. Was today moving day? Man, I would have helped you."

You shake your head and smile at him. "It's cool, I had a moving service come in and do most of the work."

"Nice. Well, if you need anything, let me know." Mark said sincerely.

"Will do. Thanks." You let out a laugh.

"Hey, what are you guys talking about?" Another one of your friends, Jaemin, approaches.

"Hey, Jaemin." You greeted. "We're just chatting. What are you doing here?"

"Getting some snacks for tonight. Jeno and I are watching horror movies at his place. Oh, wasn't today moving day for you? You wanna hang out with us later?" He asks excitedly.

"I'll pass. I'm tired and I still have stuff to unpack." You said, remembering the boxes stacked on top of each other.

Jaemin frowned. "Bummer. Maybe the gang will stop by and help you unpack."

You shake your head. "No thank you. I don't need Hendery and Yangyang causing a ruckus. Remember when we helped move into their place?"

Jaemin snorts. "How can I forget? The two were like monkeys, bouncing off the walls. Renjun almost got a black eye when Yangyang threw a shoe at him."

You laughed. "Yeah, that was pretty funny."

"Well, if you change your mind, give me a call. Or, if you're too tired, text me and we'll bring the movies over." Jaemin offered.

"Sounds like a plan." You smile.

Jaemin and Mark bid you farewell and you walk inside the convenience store. The fluorescent lights are bright and the music is too loud. You walk over to the frozen food section and pick out a few microwave dinners, a few bottles of water, and lots of instant ramen. You head to the cash register and pay for your food, then leave the store.

You make your way back to your apartment building and enter the elevator. The doors close and the elevator begins its ascent. The floor numbers blink as the elevator ascends and soon enough, the doors open again. You exit the elevator and head to your apartment. You keyed in your passcode and entered the small apartment. The lights were on and the air conditioner was working. You closed the door behind you and kicked off your shoes.

You put the microwavable meals and the bottle of water into the fridge, placed the bag of ramens on the counter and flopped onto the mattress that was still on your living room floor. You were exhausted. Moving was tiring but you needed to at least move your mattress unto your bed frame.

You laid there for a few minutes before getting up and dragging the mattress into the bedroom. You set it on top of the bed frame and began pushing the bed into the corner. It took a while but you eventually got it where you wanted it. You sat down and leaned against the wall, looking at the room. There were still a few boxes that needed to be unpacked but it was coming together. You felt satisfied and proud.

You stood up and headed to the kitchen. You grabbed a bottle of water and a packet of instant ramen. You poured the water into a pot and put the noodles in. You set the heat on high and watched as the water began to boil.

You looked around and sighed. You'd have to unpack more tomorrow.

You were too tired to think about it. You were ready to eat, take a shower, and crash for the night.

You took the pot off the heat and dumped the contents into a bowl. You rummaged around in one of the boxes that held your utensils and pulled out a pair of chopsticks. You sat down on the couch and began eating. After finishing the noodles, you went to take a shower. You stripped down and stepped into the bathroom. When you were done, you wrapped a towel around your body and headed to the bedroom. You rummaged through the boxes and found some clean underwear, a tank top, and a pair of shorts.

You put the clothes on and got into bed. It was only 8 pm but you were exhausted. You pulled the covers up and closed your eyes. You were asleep within minutes.

You wake up the next morning and check your phone. It was 9 am. You had a few messages and missed calls from your parents and siblings. You reply to their texts, telling them you were fine, and let them know that you were going to unpack.

You put your phone away and get out of bed. You go to the kitchen and start unpacking the rest of your dishes.

It takes you a couple of hours but you finally get everything in the apartment unpacked.

A knock is heard on your door, startling you. "Coming!"

You open the door and find Mark, Jaemin, and the rest of your friends standing in the hallway.

"Hey, guys." You say as you let them into your apartment.

"Yo, Y/N! What's up?" Renjun asks.

"Nothing much. Just finished unpacking." You tell him. The guys scan your apartment and whistle in surprise.

"That's good." Chenle says. "Need any help?"

You shake your head. "I'm good. But thanks for offering."

"Alright, well we're going out. Wanna come with?" Mark asked.

"Where to?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

"To a club. There's a new one that opened downtown and the guys are dying to check it out." Yangyang muttered.

"Dude, it's like noon. Isn't it too early for that?" You questioned him.

"That's why I'm saying we should go during the day. Less people, less lines." He reasoned.

"Hey, if we're gonna party, we gotta get there early. Gotta scope out the place and see if it's worth our time." Hendery smirked.

"Whatever." You rolled your eyes. "I'm gonna pass."

"Boo. Y/N, don't be a killjoy." Jisung whined.

"Do you hear something? Is the wind blowing or is it a ghost?" You ask, pretending to be surprised.

"Oh, fuck you, Y/N." Jisung retorted.

You burst into laughter and the others joined in.

"I can't believe you fell for that." You say, wiping tears from your eyes.

"You're the worst." He says, giving you the stink eye.

"Fine, I'll go with you all but come back at like 5 pm. I'm not going out at noon." You scoffed.

"Fine. Fine." They all muttered as they turned to walk away.

"And invite Jaehyun!" You called out.

"Boo! You just want to eye-fuck him all the time." Jaemin scoffed.

"So what?" You smirked. "He's hot. Can't blame me for appreciating a piece of fine man."

"Fine. I'll invite him. But don't get all touchy-feely with him." Mark frowned.

"Why? He's single. I'm single. What's the harm in having a little fun?" You retort.

"You're a player, Y/N." Mark sighed.

"You know it." You laughed.

"Just keep it PG-13, ok?" He says.

"No promises." You grin mischievously.

"Ugh. See you later." He says in defeat as he walks away.

They leave and you close the door. You spent a few hours organizing and rearranging your furniture and making sure that everything was in its proper place. You didn't have much to unpack.

You go to the bathroom and start getting ready for the night. You take a long hot shower and then blow-dry your hair. You put on some mascara and a light coat of lip gloss. You put on a tight black dress that showed off your curves and some black heels.

You check yourself in the mirror and are satisfied with the results. You grab your purse and head downstairs. Your friends are already there and are waiting for you.

"Hey, Y/N! Ready to get wild tonight?" Renjun smirked.

You raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm always ready."

"Cool, let's go!" Chenle said.

The group heads downtown and walks a couple of blocks until they reach the club. The bouncer checks their IDs and lets them in.

The music is loud and the place is packed. The lights are flashing and the entire floor is moving. The place is dark except for the light over the DJ and the bar. Everyone is moving and jumping to the music. You see some kids from campus.

You take a moment to breathe in the atmosphere. The smell of sweat and alcohol hits your nose. The room is hot and humid and the sound of the music seems to vibrate through the floor. The bass is heavy and it pounds against your chest. You can feel the energy in the air and the tension. There's something different about being in a place full of strangers. You feel invigorated, alive. It's intoxicating.

"I'll get us some drinks." Yangyang said.

"Me too." Hendery said.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom." Renjun said.

"I'll come with." Jisung said.

"I'm gonna dance." Jaemin said.

"Me too." Chenle said.

"We'll find a table." Mark said. He grabbed your wrist. "Let's go."

The two of you push your way through the crowd and find an empty table near the back of the club.

"So, are you gonna try to hook up with Jaehyun tonight?" Mark asks.

"I might." You smirk. "Oh! Is that Ten over there?"

"You gonna try to hook up with Ten too?" Mark looks amused.

You shrug. "Maybe. Or Johnny. He's got some nice muscles, don't you think?"

"Y/N, you're unbelievable." Mark rolls his eyes.

"I'm a single girl with needs. Sue me." You laugh.

"I can't deal with you." Mark rolled his eyes.

You and Mark chat for a while, and then the others join you.

"Here, drinks." Yangyang hands out beers.

"Thanks." You grab a bottle and take a swig.

"Cheers!" Renjun says.

"To a fun night!" Hendery adds.

You all clink bottles and drink.

"Hey, I haven't seen Jeno around. Where is he?" You ask.

"He said that he's trying to drag someone out of hibernation." Jaemin rolled his eyes.

"Who?" Chenle quirked his brows.

"Haechan." Mark said, nursing a beer in his hand.

"Who?" You asked, confused.

"The guy who was with Jeno at the frat party. You remember him right?" He said, raising an eyebrow at you.

"I can't remember shit. I was wasted as fuck." You shrugged.

"Fair."

"So, where's Jaehyun?" You asked.

"Over there, talking to Ten." Yangyang pointed. "Hey! Where are you going?!"

The boys watched as you waved at them while you approached Ten and Jaehyun. They watched as Ten and Jaehyun gave you appreciative looks.

"She's unbelievable." Mark said, shaking his head.

"She's gonna hook up with both of them." Hendery stated, noticing the way Jaehyun snaked an arm around your waist.

"I bet she's gonna end up taking both of them home." Renjun scoffed.

"That's our Y/N. The best player in our group." Chenle sighed.

"What?" Jisung asked, confused.

"Nothing, Jisung. Let's just enjoy our night." Mark smiled.

Haechan didn't want to be here. He didn't like parties and he hated being surrounded by drunk people. He felt suffocated in the sea of writhing bodies that were all trying to bump and grind against each other. The music was too loud and there was an almost unbearable smell of sweat in the air. The lights were low and the whole atmosphere seemed oppressive. There were strobing lights flashing on and off that only seemed to disorient people further.

"Why did I let you drag me to this place?" Haechan muttered as he looked around the club.

"Come on, dude. Live a little." Jeno smiled. "Drink some booze. Relax."

"I'd rather stay home and read." Haechan replied.

"Dude, you need to get laid. When was the last time you got some pussy?" Jeno asked as he nudged his friend in the arm.

"A few weeks ago, remember? At that frat party? The one where I got too drunk and had a one-night stand with someone." Haechan rolled his eyes.

Jeno pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows, trying to recall the incident that Haechan spoke of. After a moment of silent thinking, Jeno looked at his friend. "Ah. Yeah, I remember. You were a mess that night."

"Yeah, thanks for that." Haechan muttered. "I can't believe you and the guys know her."

Haechan thought back to the night of that wild frat party. Jeno had dragged him along when Haechan tried to study at his apartment. They had arrived at the frat house and were immediately given red solo cups. They had joined the party, the sounds of hip-hop music pumping in the background. Jeno had chatted up the sorority girls and disappeared from Haechan's side. Haechan was left standing at the edge of the room, wondering what he was doing at the party.

He had gotten lost and had bumped into you. The alcohol in his system had loosened his lips and he told you the embarrassing story of how he was dragged to the party. You laughed at him and teased him a bit but soon, you began flirting with him. It didn't take long before the two of you had ended up back at your dorm room.

It was a drunken mistake. He remembered waking up with a pounding headache, a hangover that was more painful than anything he had experienced, and his clothes and underwear scattered on the floor. It had taken him a moment to realize that he was in your dorm, and another moment to remember why. The memories were blurred and faint but it didn't take a genius to realize that he had sex with you. And it had been a rough one judging by the bruises he found on his back.

"I can't believe you don't know her." Jeno laughed. "She's been friends with Mark and Hendery for a damn, long time before she met Jaemin, Yangyang, Renjun and me."

"And now she's friends with Chenle and Jisung?" Haechan wondered out loud.

"Yeah. She's cool, bro. You'll like her." Jeno winked.

"I doubt it." Haechan muttered. "She doesn't seem my type."

"How would you know? You didn't even know her name." Jeno cackled.

"Shut the fuck up." Haechan huffed. "It was one time."

"Come on. I'll introduce you." Jeno chuckled, walking off.

"Wait, no. Dude, come on." Haechan trailed after him.

"I won't tell the others that you two hooked up." Jeno laughed as he grabbed Haechan's wrist and dragged him over to the table where you and the guys were seated. "Yo, Y/N! Guys."

"Jenoooooo!" You called out. You were obviously tipsy and a little bit buzzed. 

Renjun tried to wrestle the bottle from you. "Give it up, Y/N. You're done."

"Oh, come on! Don't be such a party pooper!" You whined.

"Dude, stop hogging the bottle." Hendery muttered.

"Hey, Jeno. Hey Haechan." Mark greeted.

"Sup, Mark." Jeno fist bumped his friend.

"Hey." Haechan greeted, a little shyly.

"Glad you're out and about Haechan." Renjun smirked.

"Stop drinking." Mark sighed as he took the bottle from your hands.

"Noooooooo." You whined.

"Y/N, you're drunk." Mark stated, matter-of-factly.

"I'm fine. Just a little tipsy." You giggled.

"How much have you had to drink?" Jaemin asked, his tone stern and serious.

"I don't know. A lot." You confessed.

"Give me the fucking bottle." Jaemin said.

"Dude, you're cut off." Mark declared.

"That's what I told her." Renjun scoffed.

"Aww, you're no fun, Mark." You pouted.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Mark muttered. He turned to look at Haechan. "Thanks for showing up. You haven't met Y/N yet, right?"

Haechan gives you a quick glance before turning away, and pretends not to know you. He avoids meeting your gaze because the incident from the night of the frat party made him feel embarrassed. It was a spur of the moment thing and he hated losing control.

"Ohhhhhhh, so this is the guy you were trying to drag out of hibernation." You hugged Jeno but then you furrowed your brows. You leaned in to look at Haechan. "Wait...have we met before?"

"Uh, I don't think so." Haechan stammered.

"Are you sure?" You narrowed your eyes.

"Yeah." Haechan said a little bit too quickly.

"Huh, weird. I swear I've seen your face before." You peered at the handsome face and then it dawned on you. Those eyes, those lips, the moles on his face and neck, the shape of his nose. It all clicked. Your eyes widened and the liquor-infused brain of yours recalled what happened that night. How he had felt inside you, how he had begged for your pussy, and how he had given you a world-changing orgasm. It all came back to you.

"Oh my god." You muttered.

"What?" Jeno asked.

"We've fucked." You said out loud.

"I'm sorry, what?" Haechan gawked at you, shocked.

"You're the guy that I hooked up with a few weeks ago." You said, realization dawning on you.

"Dude, Y/N, shut the fuck up." Mark muttered in disbelief.

"What the fuck?" Hendery gawked at his friends, confused. "You two hooked up?"

"How do you know it's Haechan?" Renjun asked.

"Like I would forget that beautiful constellation of moles." You muttered. "It's him. No doubt about it."

"Dude." Mark gave Haechan a look.

"Dude." Jaemin also gave Haechan a look.

"Dude." Hendery also gave Haechan a look.

"Dude." Chenle and Jisung gave Haechan a look.

"What?" Haechan asked.

"When the fuck were you gonna tell us you hooked up with a chick from our group?" Yangyang questioned.

"You guys were never supposed to find out about that." Haechan deadpanned.

"Well we know now and we're all very interested to hear the story." Yangyang grinned.

"Not gonna happen." Haechan retorted.

"Boo. So uncooperative." Yangyang pouted.

"Hey, I was drunk. I don't remember anything from that night." Haechan defended himself. "Besides, I've never met her before until today. She's not part of our group. So why should I have told you?"

"Bro." Jeno looked at him.

"Bro." Mark also looked at him.

"Bro." Hendery also looked at him.

"Bro." Yangyang and Jaemin also looked at him.

"Guys, shut up. I don't want to talk about it." Haechan muttered as he tried to walk away.

"Wait." You grabbed his wrist.

"What?" Haechan paused.

"Can we talk? Preferably far away from these idiots." You said, glaring at your friends.

"Hey!" Everyone objected.

Haechan sighed, not having much of a choice. "Um, ok."

You get up and Haechan follows. You drag him outside and head over to a bench. Sitting down, you looked at the random people milling around the club. The vibe was completely different from a couple of hours ago and you welcomed the change.

"So..." You begin.

"So..." Haechan mutters, looking everywhere but at you.

"I didn't mean to put you in an awful position like that." You said, looking down at your lap. "When I start drinking, I tend to lose control and I don't know how to filter what comes out of my mouth."

"It's fine. Really." Haechan shrugged. "It's not your fault. Besides, it was a one-time thing."

"Yeah." You nodded. "We were both drunk. We didn't know what we were doing."

"Mhm." Haechan hummed.

There was an awkward silence.

"Hey, look." You began. "I don't want this to be a weird situation. We both have a past and it was just a one-night stand. What happened, happened and we can't change that. We hang out in the same social circles and sure, this is the first time I've officially met you but that doesn't change the fact that I have a connection with you, in a way."

"I guess." Haechan shrugged.

"I'd like to be your friend. Would that be ok with you?" You asked, nervously.

"Yeah, sure." Haechan nodded.

"Cool." You smiled.

"Cool." Haechan said, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Hey, um, would you like to go somewhere else and just chill? I kind of don't want to go back in there and hear the guys talk shit." You laughed nervously.

"I don't blame you." Haechan lets out a small laugh. "They're a weird ass bunch."

"You can say that again." You chuckled.

"Where do you want to go?" Haechan asked.

"Let's go to a coffee shop. I need to sober up a little." You replied.

"Coffee sounds good." Haechan nodded.

"Great." You stand up and start walking away. "Let's go."

"Uh, ok." Haechan gets up and follows you.

You two walked side-by-side and talked about random things.

"I have to ask." You began. "How are you a friend of Jeno and the rest? I've been friends with Mark and Hendery since we were kids and we became close to Jeno, Jaemin, Yangyang, and Renjun through college. I know Chenle and Jisung because they're sophomores and they hang out with Renjun and Yangyang. But how the hell do you fit in all of this? You don't really seem like the partying type."

"I'm not. Jeno dragged me to the club." Haechan said. "And as for why I'm friends with the guys, we met through a gaming app and then we met in real life and we just hit it off."

"Wow. I would've never expected you to be the gaming type." You chuckled.

"I'm a nerd." Haechan shrugged.

"Well, I don't think that's a bad thing." You replied.

"It's not?" He asked, surprised.

"Nope. I think nerds are super cool. And it's good that you have a passion. Even if it's gaming. And, I'm not saying that gamers are losers or anything. That's just my personal opinion." You clarified.

"Thanks." Haechan gave you a small smile. "I appreciate that."

"Anytime." You grinned.

The two of you continued walking, enjoying each other's company. After a few minutes, you arrived at the coffee shop.

"This is the place." You said as you opened the door.

"Cool." Haechan followed you inside.

You ordered your drinks and then found a table near the window. You're really glad you found this shop. It's cozy and warm, the smell of coffee is inviting, and the interior is very comfy, reminding you of an old coffee house in an old tv show.

"This place is nice." Haechan said as he looked around.

"Yeah, it's one of my favorite places to hang out." You replied.

You both sipped your coffee and made small talk. Haechan couldn't help but look at you every now and then.

"What?" You asked, catching him staring.

"Sorry." Haechan blushed. "It's just that, um, you're really pretty."

"Really?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Haechan muttered and took a sip of his drink. "Sorry, was that too forward?"

"No, no, not at all." You said, blushing a bit. "I'm just not used to hearing that."

"Really? I've been seeing people checking you out at the club." Haechan blurted out.

"They were probably drunk and not thinking straight." You waved it off.

"Maybe. Or maybe they just have good taste." Haechan smiled.

"Maybe." You smiled back.

Haechan let out a small smile. "You're different from what I expected."

"Different how?" You asked.

"I didn't think someone as outgoing as you would be interested in someone like me." Haechan said.

"What do you mean by that?" You tilted your head.

"I don't know, I just figured you'd be more into the popular crowd. You know, the athletes and the rich kids. Not the nerds and the losers." Haechan muttered.

"I used to be a nerd too, you know." You laughed. "Way before I started partying and dating and all that. Back in middle school and high school, I was the definition of a nerd. I had braces, glasses, wore sweaters, and kept my hair in braids."

"Really?" Haechan couldn't believe it.

"Yes. But once I got to college, I wanted to reinvent myself and try new things. And so I did. But just because I like partying and going to clubs and bars, it doesn't mean I can't still be a nerd and have my own nerdy interests." You took a sip of your coffee. "Sure, folks see me as that wild girl or the one who gets around. But they don't see the whole picture. And besides, I like to think that everyone has layers to them and it's just a matter of finding those layers."

"That's true." Haechan said. "I never thought of it that way."

"What about you? You're the type of guy that I never thought would be friends with the guys. Jeno is a party boy and the rest are just wild." You mused.

"I know." Haechan chuckled. "But when you have something in common with someone, you just click."

"True." You agreed.

"They're good people though. Even though I want to stay in and play video games all day, they managed to drag me out of my shell." Haechan says, smiling softly. "They make me feel included and that I belong somewhere. I appreciate that."

"That's good." You said, smiling. "So I know Jeno dragged you to the frat party and all, but did you have fun at least?"

"Yeah, I guess. The food was good." Haechan jokes, laughing lightly.

"The food was the best." You agreed.

"I'll admit, I wasn't a fan of the loud music and the crowds." He shrugged.

"That's understandable." You nodded. "It was a frat party. They're all the same."

"True." Haechan laughed. "I don't think I would've stayed long if it weren't for the food and the alcohol."

"You're a lightweight." You teased.

"I am not." Haechan pouted.

"Sure, sure." You laughed.

You and Haechan continue to chat for a bit and eventually, you two have finished your coffee.

"So, are you ready to go back?" You asked.

"If you are." Haechan said.

"Not really, to be honest." You chuckled, making the boy smile. "I kind of wanna stay here and just be away from the guys. And talk to a cute boy. Or am I being too forward?"

"Uh." Haechan was shocked and blushed a little.

"I guess that was a bit too much, huh?" You felt embarrassed. "Let's just go back."

"Wait." Haechan took your wrist.

"Huh?" You were surprised by the sudden action.

"I wouldn't mind talking to you longer." Haechan admitted.

"Really?" You asked.

"Yes." Haechan blushed again and turned away, muttering.

"Ok, then." You were laughing and Haechan couldn't help but stare. The way your eyes lit up when you laughed. It was mesmerizing.

"Come on." You stood up. "Let's go. We have all the time in the world to talk."

Haechan's lips tugged upwards and he stood up too. He walked with you outside. You kept on looking at Haechan and then suddenly stopped and paused, biting your lip. Haechan caught your action and his breath hitched.

"Are you ok?" Haechan's breath was haggard.

"Maybe we should go back to the club..." You suggested.

"Are you going to drink?" Haechan tilted his head.

"Hell no. I'm done drinking for tonight." You shook your head.

"Good." Haechan smirked. "Because I have an idea."

"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow.

"You said you're a nerd. And I happen to be a nerd as well. Why don't we hang out and play some games?" Haechan suggests.

"I'd like that." You grin.

"Cool." Haechan smiled. "Come on. My place isn't too far."

You made your way to his place, noticing the familiar signs and landmarks. This all looked too familiar, and not just because you're drunk. This is the path you've walked on countless times before. In fact, it led straight to your own home.

"Hey, I didn't know you live in this complex." You pointed out.

"Oh, yeah." Haechan scratched the back of his neck.

"I live here too." You grinned.

"No way." Haechan was surprised.

"Yes, way." You laughed. "I just moved here a few days ago."

"I had no idea." Haechan remarked.

"I guess fate works in mysterious ways." You shrugged.

"That's for sure." Haechan agreed.

The two of you continue walking, enjoying the night breeze.

"I'll admit, I was nervous when Jeno dragged me to the club earlier." Haechan said. "But I'm glad he did. I never would've gotten to know you otherwise."

"Same." You smiled.

The two of you made your way to the elevator. Once the doors closed, you couldn't help but take notice of how close you were standing to each other. Your shoulders were brushing and you could feel the heat radiating off his body.

"It's weird how we live in the same building and we didn't know each other." You mumbled.

"Well, now we do." Haechan gave you a shy smile.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. You blinked a few times and stared at the hallway that you knew quite well.

"This is my floor." You muttered.

"Yeah, this is my floor too." Haechan said. He pointed to his door. "I'm down that way."

"No way! We're neighbors." You said with a surprised face. "I'm right next to you!"

"Are you serious?" Haechan laughed and shook his head in disbelief.

"Yeah! Now we really have no excuse to not be friends." You said, nudging his side.

You and Haechan looked at each other, both trying to hide the smiles on your faces.

"No wonder I've been hearing noises in the apartment next to mine." Haechan muttered. "It was you."

"Oh, yeah. I'm sorry. I've been moving a lot of things in and there's a lot of noise." You rubbed the back of your neck.

"It's fine. I'm used to loud noises." Haechan says, waving off your apology.

"I promise I won't disturb you too much." You assure him.

"No, no. It's fine." Haechan said, a smile tugging on his lips. "I actually don't mind."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

You smiled.

"So...would you like to come in?" Haechan asked.

"Sure." You said.

You and Haechan walked towards his door. You waited as he unlocked it.

"Welcome to my humble abode." He said.

"Thanks." You said as you entered his apartment.

The first thing you noticed was that it was very clean and organized. The second thing you noticed was the massive television screen that covered the entire wall.

"Wow." You said. "This is awesome."

"Thanks." Haechan smiled.

"You have a really cool set up." You said as you took in all the details.

"It's all I have. My life revolves around gaming, after all." Haechan said.

"Ok, what are we gonna play?" You asked.

"Why don't you pick something out?" Haechan gestured to his bookshelf. "There's a bunch of games over there."

"Really?" You walked over.

"Yeah, sure. Anything you like." Haechan said as he removed his jacket.

You went to his bookshelf and checked out the various titles. There were a lot of game titles you've seen before and even more that were unfamiliar to you.

"Hmm, how about this one?" You said as you pulled a case from the shelf.

"Oh, that's a good one." Haechan smiled.

You spent the night playing games and having fun. At one point, you were both so immersed in the game that you forgot how late it was.

"Oh my god, it's three in the morning." You gasped.

"Oh, wow." Haechan looked at his watch. "Time flies when you're having fun."

"Yeah, it does." You nodded.

"Do you want to crash here?" Haechan offered.

"Sure." You nodded. "Too tired to go to my place even though it's next door."

"Alright." Haechan laughed. He stood and made his way to his bedroom and returned with blankets and a pillow. He put them on the couch. "You can have the bed."

"No, no. I'll take the couch." You said, feeling guilty about taking his bed.

"Nuh-uh, I'll be fine on the couch."

"Haechan." You stood up, planting your hands on your hips. "I can't let you sleep on the couch in your own apartment."

"Why not?" Haechan shrugged.

"Just- It's not right." You didn't know how to explain without sounding stupid.

"I'll be fine." Haechan reassured you.

"Are you sure?" You asked, worrying.

"Positive." Haechan said.

Without a fight, you didn't argue any further. He led you to the bedroom. It's simple and cozy. Nothing super fancy, but the furniture is modern and stylish. It also smells of him. That familiar musk and sweet scent, which oddly relaxes you. He has a queen-size bed, a couple of posters hung up on the wall, and a desk and a chair.

"So, goodnight." Haechan says before he turns off the lights. "Sleep well."

"Night." You smiled.

Haechan turned off the lights and went to sleep. You stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. You were so excited and happy to finally have met Haechan. You were also curious about him and couldn't wait to learn more.

As you slowly drifted off to sleep, you smiled, thinking about your new neighbor.

And how the two of you will be spending a lot of time together from now on.

"So you ended up spending the night at his place?" Mark asked hours later as you met up with him and Hendery after your afternoon classes ended.

"Yeah." You nodded, unable to hide the exhaustion from your face.

"And you're saying you stayed up late playing games and not fucking?" Hendery asked, his eyebrows raised.

"We just played games." You shook your head.

"And nothing happened?" Mark tilted his head, questioning.

"Nothing." You shrugged.

"Damn, girl." Mark laughed. "Who are you and what happened to Y/N?"

"I don't know." You sighed.

"Did you like him?" Hendery asked as he opened his soda and chugged it down.

"Yes. But I'm not gonna do anything about it." You shrugged.

"Why not?" Mark asked.

"I'm not that kind of girl." You shrugged.

"You are." Mark and Hendery said in unison.

"Look, I'll admit that I have a reputation, but I'm not the kind of girl that goes for every guy she sees. And besides, Haechan and I had a really great time last night." You shrugged.

"Aww, look at our little Y/N being all mature and responsible." Mark said, pretending to cry.

"Shut up, Mark." You scoffed.

"You're growing up, Y/N." Hendery wiped away a fake tear.

"Just shut up. Both of you." You rolled your eyes, walking faster. Your friends just laughed and teased you even more.

Meanwhile, Haechan is spending the day trying not to think of you. But how can he when you're literally the only thing he's ever thought of?

Haechan knows it's stupid of him to believe you two were destined to meet. And yet, after one night of passion, the universe decided to play a trick on him and place you in the same building, mere inches away from each other.

Haechan didn't really expect anything the morning after, although he had a pretty nice time with you last night. But when he wakes up the morning after, the first thing he thinks of is how he wants to see you again, even though the two of you are not even dating and your one night of passion might be just that.

There's just something about you that draws him in and makes him want to be around you more. And the funny thing is, it wasn't just a physical attraction. No, Haechan wants to learn more about you. Wants to hear you talk about whatever you're passionate about. Even if that meant hearing you ramble on about something he barely understood or even didn't know.

However, being the shy nerd he is, Haechan has no idea how to act and what to say to you. He doesn't want to come off as needy or pushy, but at the same time, he wants to spend more time with you. He knows how you like it loud and wild and how much fun it is for you when people are around. But he's seen that side of you and you know the person behind those glasses. The real person who's a nerd, just like him.

He remembers the conversation you had with him the night before as clear as day. About you once being a nerd and how people didn't know about your gaming skills and interests. He can't help but find you more attractive when he's learning more about you. Your nerdy interests, the way you play video games, your humor. And he loved the fact that the two of you can bond over those things. It made him feel special, like it wasn't easy to come by. He's usually the first one to shy away from most people, but not with you.

A loud ring echoed through the air as Haechan snapped out of his thoughts and stared at his laptop.

"Sorry about that." Jeno quickly picks up his ringing phone, trying not to disturb his friends. "Hello?"

Haechan watches as Jeno walks away while on the phone. Jaemin, Renjun and Yangyang are too engrossed in their game, barely paying attention to him. Haechan decided that now was the best time for him to talk with them. "Guys, I need some advice."

"About what?" Renjun asks.

"Is it about Y/N?" Jaemin asks without missing a beat.

"What?" Haechan gasped. "How did you—"

"It's written all over your face." Jaemin deadpanned.

"Oh."

"Come on, just spit it out." Renjun nudged him. "Do you like Y/N? Because she has that effect on most of our male species, let alone on guys from other colleges."

"I mean...you guys like her, right?" Haechan hesitantly asked, his face heating up.

"Yeah. But it's not like we're gonna fuck or anything." Yangyang asked, clearly confused.

"She's a free spirit." Jaemin smirked. "She can do whatever and whoever she wants."

"I don't...look I just..." Haechan let out an exasperated breath.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just hear it." Jeno returned as soon as he hung up.

Haechan looks at each of his friend's faces, trying his best not to blush.

"Well," He says, fidgeting with his sleeves. "It's...it's just that Y/N is awesome." He stammers.

"No shit." Jeno chuckles.

"No, really!" Haechan exclaims. "And last night was so much fun with her."

"Did y'all fuck again? You were in such a good mood this morning, it wouldn't surprise me at all." Renjun says.

"No, we didn't!" Haechan shakes his head. "We spent the entire night playing games."

"Oh, I was about to tease you so hard, man." Renjun fake cries.

"Well, I liked hanging out with her and we played games all night, but there was nothing sexual or anything like that." Haechan said quietly.

"Oh." All of them speak in unison. They exchange confused glances and turn their attention back to the gamer before them.

"How can someone be that cute, man?" Haechan pouted.

The guys blinked.

"What?" Haechan furrows his brow.

"Haechan...you're okay, right? Like, mentally, are you okay? Physically?" Jaemin asked as he reached over to place his palm against the nerd's forehead. "Are you sick?"

"Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes, Jaemin, I'm fine. No, I'm not sick, thank you very much. No fever." Haechan slapped Jaemin's hand away.

"Seriously, man. We haven't seen you this cheerful and all smiles ever since...ever." Jeno furrowed his eyebrows at Haechan, confusion written all over his face.

"I have to make sure, dude. Because this isn't like you. You don't fall for people this easily. Especially after one night, mind you. And I've never seen you like this...ever." Jaemin shook his head at him.

"Come on." Renjun spoke for the first time. "Tell us everything and we can give you some feedback."

"Uh..."

"And be detailed." Jeno winks.

Haechan let out a long sigh before he explained everything that happened last night. How you both went to get coffee,  going back to his apartment, finding out that you were neighbors, playing and talking about video games, and crashing at his place. He even explained what happened this morning where the both of you said goodbye.

Once he finished explaining, his friends all stared at him in disbelief.

"Wow..." Jeno shook his head. "So, no sex, huh? Really?"

"Really. That's the first thing you ask?" Haechan asked incredulously. "Yes, really! For once, I wasn't the nerd that sat on his ass while playing games. For once, I had a good time! What, am I supposed to have sex every time I go out?"

"No, but—" Jeno starts.

"Listen. When Y/N and I were playing, I couldn't stop smiling. I had the time of my life with her and she made me feel great, and not because I got laid." Haechan looks at his hands and sighs. "What I'm trying to say is that I haven't felt that way in a long time. Just knowing that she's here, just an inch away and not at the club where there are a thousand other guys waiting for the same treatment. I couldn't have it any other way. Does that make sense?

Renjun smacks Jeno upside the head before anyone can respond to the question. "Dude, Haechan has a crush!"

"Ow. And finally. Took him long enough." Jeno grunted and rubbed the spot. "Now we can tease him even more."

Haechan blushed profusely. "I-I wouldn't call it a crush. Just because we had a good time. Like, yeah, she's hot, and a gamer and super chill, but—"

"Did you just call Y/N hot? Damn, you really are gone." Jaemin said.

Haechan slapped Jaemin's arm. "Shut up."

"But, like, have you ever considered that this could work?" Renjun asked.

"Have I...what?" Haechan started.

"Look." Yangyang says. "You guys fucked before. You guys are neighbors now. You guys clearly have the same interests. Kinda. And you are both available. Plus, you two seem to have this connection. So why not give it a shot?"

"Yeah." Jeno said as he took a sip of his coffee. "Besides, it'll keep you out of your bedroom."

"Or get you stuck inside a bedroom." Renjun snickered.

Haechan shoots him a death glare but doesn't say anything.

"What are you guys planning to do now? Just hang out? Play video games? Do the do?" Jaemin asked, smirking. "Just try to enjoy the rest of the semester and have fun with her. Who knows? It might even lead to more."

"Yeah." Renjun shrugged. "Besides, it doesn't hurt to get closer. You're both single. Might as well shoot your shot."

"Yeah, okay. Sounds fair." Haechan sighed. "Thanks for the advice, guys."

"Yo, that reminds me." Yangyang's face lights up as he opens his backpack and pulls out a pair of tickets. "Haechan, why don't you take Y/N to this?"

Haechan eyes the tickets suspiciously. "What is it?"

"It's a local convention. All these nerds are coming out. You know, for video games and comics and shit. If Y/N likes these things, then this is a perfect date." Yangyang smiles.

"I guess it's pretty interesting." Haechan picks up a ticket to examine the details. He tried not to smile at the thought of seeing you there. "Do you really think Y/N would enjoy going there?"

"Maybe, I don't know. What's stopping you from asking her though?" Yangyang asked as he raised his eyebrows.

Haechan looks down at the tickets and then to Yangyang's face, a slow smile spreads on his face. "Thanks, dude. You're right. It wouldn't hurt to invite her."

You let your gaze wander as you glanced at the crowd and wondered when was the last time you attended something like this. A comic convention filled to the brim with cosplayers and hardcore geeks and nerds. Some fans even had merch with their favorite characters, while others just came for the sake of it and maybe even for a date or two.

You caught a few people from your college as they had fun and watched a panel on some show or another, while some of them are doing some sort of art, reading a book or checking out the games that are in store. There is even a special guests section in one corner. You shook your head in disbelief, thinking how lucky you were that Haechan even let you tag along, seeing that it was usually impossible for you to buy tickets these days, seeing that the queue to get these is always filled and you are lucky enough to even have the chance.

Your gaze moves from the crowds around you to the person standing next to you, or rather the person you are currently leaning onto. You see that his eyes are also roaming around the crowds and that the people next to him are chatting, not paying attention to you.

"See? Didn't I say that it would be awesome to have you here with me? So far, we haven't even had any awkward conversation and we aren't bored, like my friends were yesterday. It's totally worth getting out of my apartment." Haechan exclaimed, a huge grin on his face.

You couldn't help but smile and give him a side eye, glancing at his side profile. Haechan is kind of adorable, with his big, thick, round, black glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles and the dimples that are displayed every time he opens his mouth or when he speaks. It makes your heart skip a beat and butterflies erupt from the pit of your stomach. His pink, soft and full lips are also incredibly kissable and make him look very sweet and innocent.

"Totally, Haechan. We could stay here forever." You say with a laugh.

"You think?" His eyes sparkle with amusement.

"I know." You bump his shoulder playfully. "Maybe we should come here together the next time one of these comes by. What do you think?"

"Definitely." Haechan says eagerly, smiling widely.

"Cool. But since this is just the first time that we've come here together, what do you want to do now, Haechan? Go shopping or take pictures? Or maybe we can watch a couple of the shows in the main hall. I bet you are really looking forward to this." You ask while pointing to one of the posters in the convention area.

Haechan thought for a moment before replying, "To be honest, I would have loved to see some panels. But we can shop too. How about you? Are there any artists you are interested in?"

"Sure." You agreed, looking back at him with a smile on your face, "It's totally okay to want to go and have fun. As long as we don't get lost, let's shop for whatever. I'm cool with anything, Haechan."

"Alright," he agrees, letting you continue leading the way.

"Hmm...Should we go and see what this year has to offer?"

The two of you start walking around and look at all of the new books that have been published, including the special ones with artwork in them. Some of those are signed, which is a huge bonus to collectors or those who can afford it. After a while, the both of you decide on the comics that interest you the most and buy two copies of each to make it easier. You also pick up a few books for your respective shelves in your apartment, the ones that you are sure will be treasured.

You wandered to a booth that was selling some adult content and flipped through a few comics. You bit your bottom lip as you read a pretty steamy scene on the page that you flipped open and imagined you and Haechan doing the same positions as the characters on the page.

"Found a comic that caught your interest?" You look up to find a smiling Haechan standing next to you.

"What?" You raise one brow and look over at the comic before placing it back on the table and walking a short distance away. Haechan watches you walk away but grabs the same comic that you put back down and flips the pages. Once he lands on the page that caused you to bite your bottom lip, he understands why you put it back down.

He blushes deeply as his eyes scan the steamy artwork.

He shut the book closed. "Um...are you ready?" He calls out, holding the book tightly.

"I'm almost ready," you tell him as you approach him, placing a few comic books in your shopping basket, "I need to decide between the second one or the third one."

Haechan grabs the adult comic and tosses it in the basket without you noticing and leads you to the cashier to purchase it. You never noticed and you were never aware that it was in your basket. Haechan was so stealthy that he managed to pay for the whole basket before you even noticed.

After walking for a while, you needed to use the restroom and pulled Haechan with you. Luckily you found a restroom with no stalls and after pulling Haechan into the room, you locked the door behind the both of you. Once he realized that there were no stalls, he turned red with embarrassment.

"Did you drag me in here because of that adult comic?" He questioned, fidgeting his hands in front of him nervously, biting his lip.

"Maybe. I saw that you picked it up while I was grabbing my things. Thought you were sneaky, huh?" You smiled as you walked up to him and grabbed hold of his hand, pressing it against your stomach. "Haechan?" 

You looked into his brown eyes as you pushed his fingers down under the waistband of your skirt. He sucked in a breath.

"Do you...uh..want to try it out?" You asked while grabbing the belt loop on his jeans.

"Try it out..." he repeated slowly. "Like right now?"

"Well...I mean...we're here..."

He was silent for a minute before looking back up at you. "...yes" he nods.

You pushed him to sit on the closed toilet seat and drop to your knees in between his spread legs. You stare up at his innocent expression.

"Fuck, I can't believe we're doing this in a public restroom," Haechan said, watching you slowly unbuckle his pants. You smirked, knowing exactly what he was getting at.

"What? Are you shy?" You ask softly.

Haechan narrowed his eyes, and you unzipped his jeans, pulling them down, along with his boxers. Then you raised your eyes and gave his crotch a quick glance, noting the size, girth, shape, color. When he noticed the way you were admiring him, he tried to hide his reaction, but ended up covering his face with his left hand.

"Haechan...we've already done it." You point out.

"Not with the lights on and with both of us sober..." he muttered under his breath.

"Shh..." you cooed gently, reaching for his length and stroking gently.

"We could get caught," Haechan murmured, still peeking down at you from his hand.

"I locked the door, it's okay."

"I don't think..." he mumbled again as he began to squirm.

His penis was growing in your grip as it hardened. Haechan shuddered when your thumb rubbed along the tip.

"Still embarrassed?" You ask quietly, kissing the base of his penis. You hear him take a shaky breath as you kiss all along his length, feeling his thighs tense as he tries not to move too much. He's holding back. You liked that.

"Yes," he responds a little breathlessly, and you lick the slit at the top of his dick, "Oh fuck," he murmurs and you hear the sound of his head hitting the tile wall behind him. You take the head in your mouth and begin to suck, sliding down his length inch-by-inch until he's deep in the back of your throat. His hand slides around the back of your head. His breathing becomes irregular and he moans as you begin to bob up and down.

Haechan didn't moan, or whisper encouragement, or try to control your motions with his hand, like you've experienced with past sexual partners. He allowed you to set the pace and you sucked and licked at your own speed, while he made quiet moaning noises as if he was trying to stay quiet but couldn't help himself. That drove you to push yourself harder, try to make him lose control. You wanted him to cry out, to grab the back of your head and make you swallow his entire cock as he exploded down your throat. You were almost aching as you swallowed around his cock.

It wasn't until you moaned quietly with his penis filling up your mouth and his tip hitting the back of your throat that Haechan moaned louder and gripped onto the back of your head.

"Ugh, Y/N." He groaned your name, tightening his grip and making your head bounce a little faster than you were before.

"Don't stop, god, you're gonna make me..." his hips suddenly rocked up into your mouth as he held your head there and you felt his body tense and his cock began to throb as he came in the back of your throat.

Haechan held you there and released in several spurts, nearly hitting your gag reflex at the back of your throat, but not enough to cause it. When you felt his hold lessen and his penis beginning to soften, you finally swallowed his semen. Then, you let his penis slowly slide out from your mouth with an audible 'pop.'

Looking up at Haechan, his cheeks flushed pink and his eyes half lidded and staring into the space above your head, he looked blissful and happy. That caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach and the beginnings of arousal to settle in between your legs.

Pulling his boxers and his jeans up, Haechan sits up a bit and blinks and the world comes back into focus.

"That..." he said.

You grinned cheekily. "Good?"

Haechan leaned down and pecked you quickly before whispering, "Thank you."

Your heart skipped a beat at the sweetness of that action. He really is adorable, you thought.

"Let me return the favor in the car, okay?"

You could only nod, knowing your panties are already soaked and wanting to ride his cock already.

A week after attending the convention, the two of you are hanging out in your apartment. You and Haechan are seated side by side and are currently gaming, sitting with each other in your living room. You are watching the TV screen and pressing the buttons on the console's gamepad, immersed in the game. On the television, you are fighting a boss battle against an over-sized monster. You and Haechan sit silently as the fight plays out, neither one of you daring to talk as the game has become quite intense. After a few more minutes pass, the big, final boss is defeated and you let out an exhale, throwing your controller beside you with an exasperated grunt.

"Fuck." You say, with a mixture of happiness and frustration. The game was fun, but frustrating. Haechan nods in agreement as he removes his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly.

"Wonder what Mark and the others are doing right now?" You asked.

Haechan opened his phone and scrolled through the list of messages. "Looks like they're headed to another frat party. Wanna join?"

"Nope. Early lecture tomorrow." You mutter. "And I was kind of hoping to spend some time with a cute nerd," You said and placed a small kiss on Haechan's nose.

"Good, cause I was really hoping to get to know that cute girl better." He whispers, smiling. You felt butterflies flutter in your stomach at his confession and your lips couldn't help but tug up into a grin.

You settled in to watch a film, Haechan had chosen some B rated comedy that you'd already seen ten times.

Halfway through the movie you felt his arm circle your shoulders and instinctively moved into his body, curling your legs up, wrapping your arms around his waist. His warmth and scent, instantly comforting, reminding you how safe you felt when wrapped up in his embrace. You hadn't realized, as your focus drifted onto how good it felt having him near you, how comfortable it was just to sit with him like this, that the feeling was returned in kind. His body relaxed a little, allowing him to settle deeper into the sofa cushions, while his thumb gently stroked against your shoulder, soothing both of you in equal measure.

Losing all awareness of the movie and your mind switching off from any task that might ordinarily pull at your focus, you simply enjoy the feeling of his warmth. At least you thought, you were both lost to the moment, as it wasn't long before his fingers brushed against your throat and up over your jaw to capture your chin. Gently, he tilts your head towards his, and you notice how his breath has quickened just the smallest amount. You can't help but feel the fluttering in your belly from that, as well as his warmth and the softness of his eyes in the darkened room.

There are only a couple of inches separating your lips. He slowly closes the gap, waiting for you to pull away. When you don't and instead lean into the softest kiss imaginable, he hums softly into your mouth. It's slow, teasing and almost lazy. A total opposite from the eager, impassioned lust of your first encounter together. His tongue explores the corners of your lips and across your teeth while he nips, sucks and nibbles lightly at your full lower lip. He tastes of mint toothpaste, his breath, and something sweet and earthy. It sends your senses into overdrive. Your fingers comb gently into the soft strands at the back of his neck. You need this, you've never wanted anyone quite as much as you want him right now.

It's so unfair really; that no one could make you this hot by simply brushing his lips over yours and then along the edge of your ear. His tongue tracing across your sensitive skin just behind your earlobe. That a single kiss to your throat was all it took to have you gasping, tingling all over and so turned on. And yet, you wouldn't change a thing.

“Can I taste you?" He whispered hoarsely, in a deep husk and you couldn't hold back a shiver of anticipation. "Every inch of you?"

How could you say no? And more importantly why would you. You nod with a tiny gasp and are rewarded with another light brush of his lips to yours. 

Oh, god. You couldn't stop now even if your life depended on it. And maybe it did. You felt so desperately out of control, as his tongue played lazily with yours, his lips suckling and nibbling on yours until you could do nothing but melt into him.

“Haechan…” Your breath hitched, barely able to speak, your mind swirling and intoxicated. “Do you want to spend the night? There's no reason for you to go back to your apartment. We could, um...keep this going, if you want..."

“Okay..." Haechan said softly as you stood up and pulled him towards your bedroom. The bed was a mess as you pushed him down on his back.

Haechan reaches down to pull his t-shirt off, and you straddle his legs, fumbling to undo his zipper as quickly as possible. In no time, you were both fully nude. Your lips and tongue meet Haechan as you roll over. He was straddled over your hips and was staring down at your naked body, licking his lips slowly.

"You're beautiful." Haechan breathed softly, tracing his fingertips delicately over your neck, collar bones, and shoulders. Goosebumps appeared in the wake of his touch and you closed your eyes and whimpered a little, tipping your chin up.

He captured your lips softly and slowly in a hot kiss that quickly turned fierce.

He moves to kiss the side of your face, and down to the base of your earlobes. Slowly his hot breath trails lower, over your chest and stomach and even lower. When his head settled between your legs and your breathing picked up, and you got up onto your elbows to look at him. Haechan made eye contact, looking so sweet, cute, and totally irresistible as he was positioned down between your legs.

A few seconds of heavy breathing and you decided you wanted his face against you, immediately. So you fisted one hand in his hair and tugged, getting his attention. Haechan quickly learned how to give the most incredible tongue kisses; just slow enough to tease you and enough pressure that it made your back arch. He kept at it with alternating soft and firm licks; swirls of the tongue that alternated with broad flat-tongue swipes along your wet pussy.

Haechan paused, breath hot and mouth still so close.

"Does it feel good, when I lick you like that, baby? Let me hear it, too. I've been dying to taste your perfect pussy and make it gush," Haechan spoke gently.

"God, where'd you learn to talk like that??" You gasp.

"In your books." Haechan pointed towards the pile of adult comics on your dresser.

You swallow. "Well keep going, because it's really fucking working."

"Tell me what to do next," Haechan said and sucked hard, while rubbing slow circles over your clit with one finger.

"Fuck me with your tongue," You breathe, and Haechan happily complies. You're absolutely soaking as Haechan makes good use of his hands as he flattens his tongue over your clit, then flutters his tongue against it. When his fingers dive inside you, your grip tightens and you tug his hair.

"Yeah. Haechan...keep touching me. Just like that," You tell him, a little breathlessly. You try to keep eye contact as you rock into the movements of his hand. When his fingers curve to find that spot inside you, your breath catches in your throat and you can't help it as your eyelids flutter closed for a moment. Haechan responds by latching his lips around your swollen, throbbing clit and suckling a few times.

That action combined with the internal pressure of his fingers pushes you over the edge. Your hips thrust wildly against his mouth and a strangled sort of whine leaves you, followed by gasps, groans, and mewls of pleasure.

When Haechan's hands finally fall from your thighs and he looks up at your flushed face, he chuckles softly. Haechan crawls over you, and presses his face in your hair, placing soft kisses down to your shoulder. "Good girl," he purred.

"Haechan," You said breathlessly as he lifted his head up, grinning. He moved down the bed slightly, positioning his throbbing dick between your wet folds. The sensation had your spine arching, your inner walls contracting around the emptiness, desperately searching for the fullness of him inside you.

You gasped as Haechan moved forward and eased himself inside you, stretching and filling you until you felt that intoxicating fullness. You stared up at his features and he blinked slowly, keeping his gaze steady on you, watching and gauging your reaction. You chewed on your lower lip and clutched at his biceps, nails digging into flesh and dragging down his arms.

"Move," You whimpered. His soft chuckle caused an excited chill to run up your spine and a sweet moan to leave your lips.

Haechan leaned down to kiss the side of your neck as his hips moved with his thrusts, his penis burying itself inside you with short, swift strokes.

The friction was heavenly. Each time the tip of his length touched against the end of your slick pussy, and withdrew again, he caused more ripples of pleasure to shiver across the surface of your skin. You shivered against the sheets below you, your eyelashes fluttering, his name leaving your lips in soft cries.

You opened your legs wider and wrapped them around his waist to let his length push into you more easily. You raised your hips off the bed, grinding yourself up against him. This elicited a groan from him, and your thighs clenched around him more tightly. The tips of your breasts rubbed against his chest and tickled. It felt so, so good...

"Haechan...please..." Your moans continued as his hands gripped at your thighs, spreading them further apart as he slowly increased the speed of his thrusts. "Don't stop, baby...fuck..."

His breathing grew rougher and shorter. Your fingernails scratched down his sweat-slick chest. Every time he sank his cock deep inside you, you could feel his tip kissing up against a pleasurable spot and it caused sparks to explode inside you. You were panting, crying out. Haechan could feel your hips lifting off of the bed to match his every thrust as his grunts and moans grew deeper and more lustful. You were so incredibly close, and by the look of his handsome, strained face, he wasn't far from finishing either.

"Fuck. Yes, Y/N...that's it. Say my name," Haechan uttered, his gaze now burning right into yours, and his body shaking a little. "Don't fucking stop saying it...I wanna hear your sexy voice telling me how good it feels when I fuck you."

The pulsing between your legs intensified and before you knew it, the familiar shudders rushed up your torso and shook every part of your body. "Yes, Haechan, right there, fuck. You feel so good. Don't stop! Don't stop!"

You felt his hips start to lose their rhythm. You closed your eyes and drew a deep breath.

"Oh god, baby, Haechan...just like that," You spurred him on, clinging to his shoulders. He gave a few particularly fast, desperate thrusts before groaning and pulsing inside you. That feeling sent you over the edge and you called his name, nails raking down his back and fingers gripping the sheets so tightly you swore your knuckles were turning white. 

Haechan kept rocking slowly inside you and he brought his palm up to the center of your stomach and circled his fingertips over the surface, rubbing down into your lower abdomen. You shuddered pleasurably at the contact.

"Don't take it out, stay," You told him quietly, eyes sliding closed, and you breathed out heavily through your nostrils. He murmured incoherently and continued massaging your lower belly while keeping himself buried deeply inside you. 

After a short time, Haechan pulled out slowly, leaving his warm semen to slowly drip out of you.

He made his way up to you and brought you close, draping his arm over you to keep you by his side. "Hmmm, you're so pretty...But let me ask you something."

"What?" You yawned and shifted over to rest your head on his chest, nuzzling into his warmth.

"Can we keep doing this? Like regularly?" Haechan asked and combed a hand through your hair.

You sit up and open an eyelid. "As in...?"

"You...me..." Haechan waggled his fingers. "And us having sex, together."

You laughed softly. "Seriously Haechan?"

He gives an innocent look. "It's not the worst idea, is it? We have a great chemistry, obviously."

You turned on your stomach and faced him, smiling. You brushed some of his sweaty hair off of his forehead. "I love chemistry."

Haechan smiles back and shifts closer, pressing your noses together. "So...?"

Your response came out a soft whisper. "Yeah."

"So, you're basically gonna be my fuck buddy?" Haechan tilts his head, raising an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes. "How about your girlfriend? Hmm?"

"I'll take that option." He smirks and grabs you for a kiss. "So...shower first or sleep first?"

"Shower and then sleep sounds nice..." You trailed off and rested your hands over his around your chest.

He gave you a squeeze and a nudge to your rear to get you moving. With a grumble you threw off the sheets and followed him, making your way to the bathroom for the first of many wonderful nights together.

[asuyaka]

Gojo-Sensei has a husband?!

★ - drabble s part of m' first Satoru oneshot !!૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

☆ - Gojo Satoru x Househusband! Reader

♡ - f m' manga readers, how we feelin' 'bout nurse kenny ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ (she's m wife m callin' it rn!!)

Gojo [Name], the loved and unknown husband of The Strongest, Gojo Satoru.

Satoru was at work, most likely teaching the first years he loved to talk about. You were at home. Cleaning the house and making preparations for dinner when Satoru got home like the good husband you were.

You brought out a chicken broth cube from the cupboard, brushing the slight dust on your pretty light-blue apron that Satoru brought for you (then ended up fucking you in but that's on days when you're being a brat).

Your eyes scan the countertop, looking for the knife holder until they land on a sage-green bag dusted with flowers that you hand-painted. It was Satoru's lunch bag that he had forgotten.

You weren't a sorcerer, but you're able to see curses. Ironically, that's how you and Satoru met. A younger you (who just got unemployed) was walking home when something you couldn't describe stopped you in the alleyway you took sometimes as a shortcut.

It was tall, with eyes running along its skinny, dark-red arm. You were only twenty-two at the time and have only ever seen things like that in shitty horror-flicks. You never thought they were real.

As if you were in a cliché love story, a patch of white hair stands in front of you. He has sunglasses on despite the sun being nowhere in sight.

Due to you being (obviously) weaker than the average sorcerer, Satoru always discouraged you from going to Jujutsu High unless it was an emergency.

You huff diligently, grabbing the lunch bag and putting your shoes on. You'll make sure Satoru gets his lunch. What kind of husband would you be if you didn't?

Turns out, the people at Jujutsu High are either scary or odd. There's absolutely no in-between.

You've only been at Jujutsu High a handful of times. More times than not, it was to help Megumi.

You make your way to the main school building, holding the bag close to your chest for safekeeping. You didn't bust your ass making cute shapes out of food just for Satoru to go eat fast food instead.

Reaching the door of Satoru's class, you knock softly. It’s quiet, and you guess Satoru must be out training with his students. You turned around to try and find just where the training grounds could be on this huge campus. 

All of a sudden, the door opens and there he is. Your beautiful husband, wearing his black blindfold and Jujutsu uniform. “Baby? What are you doing here?”

Baby. That’s right, you’re his baby. No one else's. “You left your lunch, so I…” Your voice trails off as you gesture toward the bag in your hands. Satoru smiles, opening the door wider and pulling you in.

He keeps your hands intertwined, softly pushing you against a chair. “You’re so nice, baby. Going out of your way to bring me my lunch?” His hands are on your cheeks now, still smiling sweetly even with a saccharine voice.

Your face flushes and your hands are stiff. You don’t know where his students are, but you’re sure they’ll be back soon. This is risky— irresponsible even. 

“Satoru, ‘s risky..” You mutter under your breath, your hands cupping his. They’re warm like they always are when you two are close. You wish you could see what his eyes looked like, but they’re for his comfortability, you’re aware.

“You know I love you, right baby?” He leans closer, to the point you can smell the cologne on him. It’s the one you bought him a few weeks ago because it smelt like home. 

Satoru smells like home.

Shakily you nod. “Are you sure this is safe…? I don’t want you—”

“Shh… let me worry about all that.”

And with that, he closes the space between your lips. Satoru’s strong– dominant even; and no matter what he does, it always manages to show through his actions.

His tongue breaches past your lips, slotting perfectly against yours. You can hear the clicking of teeth as Satoru sits across your lap. It’s hot and you can feel your cock start to rise in your pants. 

“Wore this cute fuckin’ apron all f’me–” He plants a kiss on your cheek, your face flushed and breathing heaved.

“Satoru– sir, I need—”

“But baby…” He whines.

He fucking whines.

His face is pouty and it looks like he’s getting off your lap. Is he denying you? You haven’t done anythin’ wrong– did he give you instructions and you didn’t see them?

“I’m at work, and as much as I want to fuck you ‘till you can’t think– you can’t have my students seein’ you all messed up like that, can you?”

Satoru’s words bring your attention to your appearance. Your apron is messed up and so is your hair (most likely from Satoru gripping on it). Your lips are slightly swollen and your cock is half-hard.

Embarrassment brings you back to your senses, your arms covering what's between your thighs. If you stood up, your apron would cover it (hopefully), but your pants weren’t going to do you any justice. “‘M sorry ‘toru…”

Satoru cocks his head, sitting on his desk and crossing his legs. “It’s okay baby, I know you just can’t help yourself when I’m around.” His tone sounds mean like he’s mocking you. It’s condescending.

“But that’s what makes you my good boy, isn’t it?” His foot brings the chair closer to the point where your body is sandwiched between his legs. “Always so plaint f’me to fuck you, right?”

God. You can’t do this, and it isn’t helping your slowly growing problem go down.

Satoru must sense your nervousness (he knows you and your emotions like the back of your hand) because his expression turns soft again. “Just wait till I get home, okay baby? Relax for me.”

His fingers caress your cheek gently. It’s lulling you, pulling you in. Like he’s a siren, and you’re a plaint, very easy sailor.

You nod because you’re his good boy and you want it to stay that way.

Satoru smiles before pulling you in again for a kiss.

It’s gentler this time. There’s less kiss and more gentleness behind it. It feels like the kiss you shared at the altar. It makes you calmer, it makes you happy.

All of a sudden, the door slams open. Revealing three, very surprised teenagers.

“Gojo-sensei!?”

“Gojo-san?”

Satoru breaks the kiss, briefly smiling coyly at you before looking at his students. “Hello, my favorite first-years! I didn’t know lunch had already ended…”

A boy with pink hair and what seems to be two sets of eyes stares at you, then back at Satoru. “Lunch ended five minutes ago. Nobara stayed to eat more watermelon.”

The girl, who is shorter than all of them and who you assume is Nobara, kicks the boy in the knee. “Shut it Yuuji! Not my fault somebody decided to eat all my food while I was gone!”

“Gojo-san, I thought you’d be at home.”Megumi looks at you with a confused expression. Your heart tugs in fondness when he says ‘home’ like all three of you share it together (legally, you do but Megumi would never admit that).

“Why would Gojo-sensei be at home? He has to teach us, stupid.” Nobara rolls her eyes, before pointing at you accusingly. 

“All I wanna know is why this random man and Gojo-sensei were kissing!”

Satoru steps off the desk, grabs your arm, and pulls you up as well. He slings his arm around your shoulder, slightly leaning on you with a bright smile on his face. “Yuuji, Nobara, this is my husband, [Name]!”

“Husband?!” Yuuji and Nobara parrot, staring at each other before staring back at you. 

Nobara notices it first, the sleek ring on your finger. There’s an initial that she can’t make out but can only assume it’s the one that belongs to her teacher.

“Why would anyone date you?” She says suddenly, causing Yuuji to laugh.

Megumi rolls his eyes. “I thought that at first too. Gojo-san is too good for him.”

Satoru gasps. “Rude! You cried during our wedding, or do I have to ask [Name] to pull up the photos?”

“Wedding?! Why wasn’t I invited?” Nobara looks at Satoru like he committed a war crime. 

You don’t notice it, but somehow Yuuji is right in front of you. “Hello! I’m super glad Gojo-sensei has someone to love!! He’s always saying something about how he misses his ‘hubby’ randomly during class but we never thought he was being serious!”

You smile bashfully. You never thought Satoru would think of you during work, and for him to call you his “hubby”? 

Megumi stands beside him, handing you a book. “That’s because Gojo-sensei can’t shut up. They’re so lovey-dovey behind closed doors it makes me sick.”

Yuuji smiles. “That’s ‘cause they’re in love Megumi! Shouldn’t it be sweet that your dads love each other?”

Megumi frowns. “They aren’t my dads.”

“They totally are! You called Gojo-sensei dad one time during a mission, don’t think I’d ever forget that!” Nobara teases, holding Satoru’s ring in her other hand to presumably examine it.

Satoru claps his hands. “Okkayy! I appreciate that you two love my husband, not as much as me of course, but he’s got stuff to do! And we have to learn about the boring sorcerer families. Ew.”

His students groan but make their way to their seats. Satoru walks you to the door of the classroom, a small apologetic smile on his face. “I can’t walk you all the way to the door, Yaga would kill me, but I’ll see you at home?”

You nod with a soft smile on your face.

Satoru kisses you one last time. It’s more of a peck than anything, then leans into your ear. “Prep yourself for me before I get home okay? I have to reward you for being so good today.”

Blush rises up to your cheeks as you nod again. Pushing your hands down to your lap and turning away from his classroom door. The blush gets harder when you hear a loud “See you at home baby!” from the door.

Satoru watches you until he can’t anymore. A relieved sigh leaves his face as he closes the door and sits on his desk. Legs crossed and a ring adorning his finger, with your initials on them.

“Ask away, and I’ll show you any pictures you want.”

Yuuji and Nobara visibly light up and begin asking questions about where he met you, how long you’ve been together, and how long you’ve been married, plus the pictures of Megumi crying.

He shows them every photo and answers every question without hesitation.

After all, they’re all questions about you, his husband.

And he knows you’ll be home waiting for him with dinner, and dessert.

Your ass (that he loves to watch jiggle every time he fucks you), and ice cream.

He loves you, and he’s glad his students (and son) love you too.

[storiesforallfandoms]

i need someone older ~ william afton;five nights at freddy's

word count: 3794

request?: no

description: after a bad breakup, she finds herself becoming more and more attracted to her much older boss

pairing: william afton x female!reader

warnings: swearing, age gap (reader is mid 20s, afton is 50s), power imbalance technically (but it's fine), bit of an au (so he doesn't unalive anyone in this one)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I stormed into work, really pushing it for time. I had slept past my alarm and was incredibly reluctant to get out of bed. After the night I had, the last thing I wanted was to work eight hours in a children's restaurant, with screaming kids and the animatronics playing the same three songs all day. But I needed the money, and hopefully a distraction.

"Whoa, who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?" my coworker, Adam, asked.

"Fuck off," I muttered. "I gotta go change into my uniform. Can you punch me in so I'm not late?"

"Yeah. Be quick, though. Afton's here."

I rolled my eyes. "He doesn't even know our names. He's not going to know I'm supposed to be on the clock."

I changed as quickly as I could while having limited space in a tiny bathroom stall. I stuffed my clothes into my backpack and did a quick double check in the mirror to make sure I was work appropriate. I wasn't paying enough attention as I stepped out of the bathroom and managed to literally run into someone who was walking past. I cursed under my breath as I looked up and came face to face with the fucking owner of Freddy Fazbear's.

As if this day couldn't get any worse.

"|'m so sorry, Mr. Afton," I said.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Where's the fire, though? You seem like you're in a hurry."

How do I answer this without getting in shit? "I'm just, uh...trying not to be late. I had to change, and bring my bag to my locker."

William looked down at his watch. I felt my heart starting to pound.

"Cutting it a little close there," he commented.

"I know."

My grip on my bag had tightened as I braced for the worst. I had never met William before. Despite owning the restaurant, he was rarely ever around. Whenever he was, he was usually tucked away in his office for most of the day and only ever spoke with our manager. Due to this, I didn't know if he would be a hard ass who was about to write me up for running late. After the events of the previous night, I didn't think I'd be able to take getting reprimanded today.

He took me by surprise when he smiled and said, "Just don't let it happen again, okay?"

I nodded, unable to form any words, and scurried around him to the lockers.

Adam looked at me when I finally returned to the floor. "What took you so long?"

"I ran into Afton," I responded.

His eyes widened. "Did he give you shit?"

"Luckily no. Just told me not to let it happen again."

"I warned you that he was here."

I flipped Adam off when I was sure none of the kids could see me.

As if my day couldn't get any worse, my manager came to tell me that I was stationed on the prize counter for the day. The prize counter was probably the worst part of the restaurant. There was never any downtime at the counter. Either there was rowdy children hopped up on candy and pizza screaming about wanting toys they didn't have enough tickets for, or there were tired parents wanting to buy tokens for the arcade games while their rowdy kids were nearby screaming. Not to mention it was right next to the main stage, so the sound of screaming children was only matched by the sound of pre-recorded music coming from the animatronics' speakers. And to top it all off, the closing duties for the prize counter took longer than any other section of the restaurant.

It was the worst section to work, and I already wanted to leave just knowing that was my station for the day.

The only plus side was that being kept busy made the day fly by. But the usual craziness of Freddy Fazbear's was extra unbearable to a point where I felt myself on the edge of tears numerous times. I knew it was going to be a bad idea for me to be at work, and I was really regretting coming in.

I let out a sigh of relief as the last family finally left and the animatronics finally powered down. Adam laughed at me as I put my head down on the cool glass that held the prizes. "You're giving yourself more work to do."

I looked at the smudge I had left on the glass before glaring up at him. "I don't think my one smudge is making things any worse."

"Okay seriously, what is up with you? You've been grumpy all day."

I sighed and shook my head. "I had a bad night."

"Do you want me to help you close up so you can get out of here sooner?"

I gave him a look. "We both know you don't actually want that."

"But I'd do it to help you."

"I appreciate it, but I'll be fine. My annoyance and desire to leave will make me work faster."

Adam didn't fight me on it anymore. He said goodnight and clocked out. Once I heard the front door close and lock, I immediately got to work with cleaning. That was the easiest part as all I had to do was clean the glass of the prize case and pick up the discarded tickets from the floor. When I finished that, I started counting the cash in order to close it off. That was supposed to be another easy task, but my mind being anywhere but the task at hand made it so much harder.

Restocking the prizes was the hardest part. I had been on my own for nearly an hour, and I was both mentally and physically exhausted, so I was trying to rush out of there but found myself fumbling a little extra. I was trying to dump a box of tiny soldier toys into their respective bin when the box slipped from my hands and landed on its side, the toys scattering all over the floor.

It was my breaking point. Everything finally came crashing down around me and the flood gates finally opened. I lowered myself to the floor, sitting with my back against the counter. I buried my head into my hands and began to sob.

"Seems like a bit of a strong reaction to dropping some toys."

I jumped and looked towards where the voice had come from. I was sure I was the only one left in the restaurant, everyone else having left while I was doing my closing duties. Even my manager had left, giving me the keys and the code to the security system. But, turns out, I was wrong, because there was William Afton leaning over the counter to look down at me.

I quickly scrambled to my feet, wiping the tears from my face. "S-Sorry Mr. Afton. I-I didn't realize - "

"Hey, it's okay," he said, cutting me off and speaking in a soft voice. "What's going on? You seem stressed."

"It's...personal things. I shouldn't have let it interfere with my work."

"Fuck the professional shit for a second here. Forget I'm your boss, forget we're on the clock. If there's anything going on that you want to talk about, I'm all ears."

I leaned against the counter across from him. "It's stupid."

"You're crying, so I don't think it's that stupid."

I sighed. "My boyfriend broke up with me last night, after admitting he's been cheating on me for the last three months."

William whistled in response. "That's tough."

I nodded. "It just...came out of nowhere. We've been together for three years, moved in together last year. There was no signs that anything was wrong. I didn't even suspect that he was cheating. He came home last night and suddenly told me everything. Packed a bag and went to his...I guess...girlfriend's house. Told me he'd be back at some point this week to get his stuff."

Tears were stinging my eyes again. I looked away so William wouldn't see me cry anymore. Upon looking down, I realized my bare arms were on the glass of the prize counter, leaving smudges again. I cursed under my breath and turned to grab the cleaner again.

"Here, let me," William said, reaching for the cleaner. "You pick up the toy soldiers and I'll help restock the prizes once I finish this."

I was a little shocked, but definitely was not about to argue over getting help. We worked much quicker as a team and, finally, I was able to clock out to leave. I stood by as William set the security system and locked the gates.

"Thank you for helping me," I said.

"You don't have to thank me," he said. "It seemed you needed help, and I wasn't about to let one of my employees struggle while I was on the property." I smiled at him and started for my car. "For what it's worth - " I paused and turned back to him. " - your ex-boyfriend is a fucking idiot. You seem like a great woman. Don't beat yourself up over him."

He smiled and turned to walk towards his own car. I watched him go, surprised by what he said. Even through the cold night air, I could feel my face burning.

~~~~~~

William was around more after that. Not just in his office, but he was actually out on the floor. Everyone was noticing his increased presence, but I found myself noticing it in a different way. Whenever William was near, my eyes were practically glued to him. I found it difficult to concentrate whenever he was around. Luckily, everyone else was so distracted by his presence that they didn't notice how useless I had become.

It was wrong. I knew that. Having a crush on a coworker was bad enough, but a crush on your boss was a whole other level of bad. Especially when your boss is so much older. I had no idea whether or not he was even married or had kids for God's sake!

But every time I saw him, I couldn't stop my heart from racing. I wanted him in a way I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't stop myself.

During one of my shifts, I was put on the serving section. Serving was easy enough - take orders, bring food, check on tables. The hardest part was trying not to trip over a child running past while carrying a whole pizza on a hot tray. Most of us had learned the art of scanning the area before we walked, but sometimes you just don't notice quick enough and end up surprised by one of those little fuckers.

One of the cooks passed a pizza through the pass to me and told me the table number. I took the tray and balanced it against my shoulder, something I found was the easiest way to balance the bigger trays. The restaurant wasn't too busy, but there were still enough kids running around that I took in my surroundings before I started to walk. I was making a mental note about two kids who were stood by the stage, dancing to the song that Freddy was "singing", and didn't notice another kid who was racing from one of the playrooms in front of me. I stopped suddenly, just short of running into him, but found myself losing my balance after he ran past.

I felt two hands grab hold of my waist, holding me upright and saving me from a very embarrassing scene. When I turned to thank my savior, I came to face the blue eyes I had been trying to desperately to avoid today.

"That could've been a disaster," William said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Th-thank you," I managed to stutter out. I could still feel the heat of his hands against my waist, like they were burning through the clothes and searing my skin. I almost forgot the heavy tray of pizza I was carrying in that moment.

When he let me go, his eyes still trained on me, I quickly turned and hurried to my table. I tried not to seem so flustered, but I knew I had failed. I stuttered through every sentence before finally dismissing myself to the prize counter where one of my other coworkers, Beth, was snickering to herself.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"Don't ask," I responded.

"Oh, I'm asking. Are you all hot and bothered for Afton?!"

"Shh!" I snapped, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one had heard. Not like anyone would over the usual noise of the restaurant.

"Oh, you so are!" she said. "Holy shit, (Y/N), you know that's bad news right? He's literally our boss."

"I know he is. I'm not stupid. But...I can't help it!"

"At least he would be more of a gentleman than that small dick asshole you call your ex." She looked over her shoulder as the front door to the pizzeria opened. When she looked back, her eyes were wide. "Speak of the devil."

I looked over to see none other than the small dick asshole himself, Josh, walking in. I wished I could disappear into the floor and never be seen again. I tried to turn and walk away before he spotted me, but no luck.

"(Y/N)!"

I groaned and turned back to him. "What do you want, Josh?"

"I was just over getting the last of my stuff - "

"Awesome, I do not care. If you've come to give me your key back, you could've just left it on the dining room table."

"No, I came to say that I couldn't find my Springsteen album."

I furrowed my eyebrows and crossed my arms. "So you came all this way to...what? Ask me what I did with it? I have no idea, Josh, I threw everything that was yours into boxes and garbage bags. If it's not in there, you might've left it in your car or at your new girlfriend's house."

"It's not any of those places." I wasn't sure if I should've been hurt about the fact that he wasn't addressing my last comment directly, but I definitely was a little bit.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"I wanted to see when you were going to be off work and maybe I could come by to look for it with you."

I scoffed. "Are you serious right now? Josh, I don't know what the fuck happened to your album, but you're sure as hell not coming over to the house. That is not your place anymore, and you're very much not welcome there."

"Why can't we be adults about this?"

"You lost the right to being adult about this the second you decided to cheat on me! And how dare you say that shit, but then come down to my place of work to try and, what, harass me into letting you back into my home? We're over, Josh. I don't ever want to see you again. If I find any of your shit left at the house, I'll drop it in the trash."

"What seems to be the problem here?"

I suppressed the urge to groan again. As if things couldn't get any more complicated.

"No problem, Mr. Afton," I said, turning to face William with the best, innocent smile I could muster. "Just an...unwelcome guest."

William looked at me for a moment before letting his eyes wander to Josh. I didn't have to say much else for him to recognize who the "unwelcome guest" was and I could see anger in his eyes.

"Well, time to get back to work, (Y/N)," he said to me. "Your customers are waiting."

I nodded and ducked away from the situation. As I walked away, Josh called after me, "That's fine, I'll be waiting for you to get off! We can talk more then!"

"Like hell you will."

A collective gasp from the parents and Beth cause me to spin around to see William had grabbed hold of the collar of Josh's shirt. William was easily a head taller than Josh, so even if the act wasn't meant to be intimidating, he definitely looked intimidating. I don't think I've ever seen such fear on Josh's face. William turned Josh around and basically dragged him towards the front door.

"If I see you back here, I will have your ass arrested," he said as he threw Josh out of the restaurant. "Are we clear, punk?"

He didn't wait for a response as he pulled the door shut. I could see Josh standing there, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face. William re-entered the main area, still looking angry, but tried to put on his best customer service smile as he addressed his new crowd. "Sorry everyone. Just an unruly customer. Sorry for any trouble."

To me he added, "Come see me in my office, please."

Beth and I exchanged a look before I followed William towards his office. I was so sure he was going to get upset with me. Not only had I brought my personal shit to the restaurant (even though that wasn't my fault), but it had also resulted in a not so great scene in front of the customers. People get to talking, and I was sure that this story was going to be spread through town before the night was out.

The moment I stepped into his office, I set in on the apologies. "Mr. Afton, I'm so sorry about that. I had no idea he was coming. I've been trying to avoid him while he's moving his stuff out and I guess he was getting tired of that or wanted to poke me one last time or something - "

"Did he hurt you?"

I paused my rambling to look up at him. All anger was gone from his face and had instead been replaced by concern.

"What?" I asked.

"Did he do anything to you just then?"

I shrugged. "Not physically. He was definitely still trying to mess with me mentally, though."

William nodded. "Well, he's not welcome on the property anymore. If you see him, you have my full permission to contact the police immediately."

"I...I don't think that's entirely necessary."

"I don't mean to sound like an old man or anything, but I've met plenty of assholes like your ex, (Y/N). You give them an inch and they take a mile. If you don't deal with this now, he will continue to come back and harass you. I don't want that for you. You don't deserve that."

I opened my mouth to say something else, but nothing came out. I was realizing how close we were now. We were mere inches away from one another. If I wanted to, I could just reach out and touch him right now; grab him. I could've kissed him right then and there if I really wanted to. Who would've known?

As if reading my mind, William suddenly reached out and cupped my face. Before I could comprehend what was happening, his lips were on mine. It was kind of ironic, the fact that I had just been thinking about doing this exact thing, but now that it was happening it was like my brain wasn't sure how to comprehend the situation.

William pulled away just as quickly as he had initiated the kiss. He backed away from me, suddenly worried. "I'm so sorry. I...I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have done that."

In response, I pretty well threw myself at him. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him with such force that it pushed him back into his desk. He positioned himself so that he was sat on his desk and basically pulled me into his lap. It was risky, anyone could've come by and caught us, but something about that just made the experience so much better; so much hotter.

William pulled away first again. I tried to chase his lips with mine, but he pushed me back, chuckling at my eagerness.

"Hold on," he said. "There's some things we have to discuss before this goes any further."

"Please don't tell me you're married," I said.

He laughed. "No, I'm not married. Divorced with a 10 year old daughter. That was the first thing I wanted to discuss, in case single dad is a dealbreaker."

"Very much not a dealbreaker."

"So...the age thing is also not a dealbreaker then?"

I shook my head. "If anything, I think that makes it kinda hotter."

A grin spread on his face. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. But there is the big issue of the fact that I'm your boss."

It felt like I had been shoved off of cloud nine and come crashing down to earth. For a moment, I had forgotten that part. He was right, that was the biggest issue here. Kind of hard to get around it unless I ended up quitting, which I really did not want to do. It was nearly impossible to find a good paying job these days, and I needed this now more than ever since Josh wasn't going to be splitting rent with me anymore.

I climbed off of William's lap and stood across from him. "I guess...that is a big issue, huh?"

"I just don't want you to feel pressured into anything, and I don't want anyone to look at you any different because you're dating the boss."

I raised a playful eyebrow at him. "You jumped to dating pretty quickly there."

His smile was a little more bashful. "What can I say? I'm old school. I don't believe in hooking up or anything like that. If there's anything going on here, I want you to be able to classify it as a relationship."

In that moment, I found myself wondering why I hadn't always dated older men. I had wasted so much of my time on guys my age when I could've been dating someone who was actually a gentleman and cared about me and my feelings.

"Why don't we see where things go with this, and then we can tackle that big elephant in the room?" I asked.

"I think I can agree to that."

I took a step closer and said, "I really want to kiss you again, though."

He laughed and met me halfway, standing from his desk and taking my face in his hands again. When he kissed me, I felt like I was flying right back on to cloud nine.

[komelliko]

manipulative!boss!sunday x timid!secretary!reader

summary: You accept the dinner invite, but can't shake the feeling that Sunday had alternative motivations. Well—you can't seem to get yourself to ignore it as well as you usually do, at least. wc: 1.3k

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 (nsfw)

---

To say you’re surprised that Sunday knows something almost feels on its way to an insult. Ever since meeting him, you’ve felt the notion that Sunday fills every room he’s in with a sort of omnipresence—a watchfulness that extends beyond his direct gaze, an invisible cloud of eminence curling in the corners of space like steam. Sure, you collect information for him in your manila folders and papers and electronic mails… but you often wonder if it’s merely to organize, not to present. That he is already aware of all things, and only wishes for it to be in proper order. 

All this to say: The dress fitting you perfectly is entirely logical. Sure, maybe it’s a bit too perfect, but to show concern feels almost sacrilegious. 

Of course Sunday knows. It’s normal for an employer to know such things, isn’t it?

Regardless, you find yourself out of place in this Blue Hour restaurant. Your only companions seem to be the objects in your old clutch: Your phone, and a metal tin of your favorite mints. Bringing along a wallet or even a few credit bills was out of the question, Sunday had assured you. Even at your protest, he insisted it would be taken care of. 

You press a mint against the roof of your mouth with your tongue. You had been too anxious to remember the name of the restaurant, only hearing the erratic pace of the jazz music echoing from the band’s main stage. Only seeing the satin of the tablecloth. Only feeling the gnawing pit in your stomach.

“About today’s report, sir—“

Sunday would only keep his clasped fists against the table, maybe his forearms, but never his elbows. He was a man with remarkable, old-fashioned etiquette. 

“Please,” he corrects you. “Call me Sunday.” “Mister Sunday,” you reiterate. But something tells you to stop talking anyways.

Your eyes glance around the room, wondering from what other angles he seems to be watching you, ridiculous as it may sound. You curse yourself at how easy it is to ‘pay it no mind’, ‘give it no thought’ in any other occasion. During work, at meetings, or when his presence is invisible to you. The sentiment feels like the most logical thing in the world then, but now? It’s a ridiculous notion. 

But you can at least pretend to pay it no mind, and you find that to be enough for the time being. The band plays on, a saxophone wailing out its melody over double bass and the hiss of the drum kit.

"Jazz as a term for Penaconian music is a fairly recent construction," he begins to speak, at first seemingly to nobody but himself. "Popularized by my dear sister, naturally. Do you know what the term comes from?" 

You shake your head. 

"'Jats', more commonly phrased as 'the jats', also known as spirit, moxie, joie de vivre—Now, it's been corrupted to mean something closer to restlessness," he sighs. "But in its inception, to have 'the jats' was to be blessed by Xipe with a certain euphoria, and the style of music that many associated with such a feeling was said to be played by 'Jats bands'." Sunday takes the smallest sip of his drink before adding "But Jazz rolls off the tongue better, doesn't it?”

You laugh, a rictus showing on your face. “Indeed it does, Mr. Sunday.”

He smiles no wider than he would at any other person. Your certain vulnerability seems to almost leak onto the floor, rivulets flowing down the legs of your chair—Sunday relishes in the image, watery anxiety beading off the skin of your back and running down the curve of your spine. Underneath his gloves, his knuckles pale as he laces his fingers together tightly. The vision before him is everything he’d ever hoped for—what he’d been picturing when he selected the venue, the dress, the time. A plan perfectly orchestrated.

“I worry sometimes that you have the wrong idea of me, [Y/N],” he posits, glibly. “You seem tense.”

You stop yourself from placing another mint in your mouth to look him in the eye. “Oh, it’s nothing, Mr. Sunday,” you lie, “It’s just been a while since we’ve been seated, and we’ve only been given drinks.”

“I have an inclination that our food will be out shortly.” “…But sir,” you question, “We haven’t ordered.” “Our reservation asked for orders at the time of scheduling,” Sunday smiles. “As I said before, everything is being taken care of for you.”

Your eyes drift to the other patrons: A patchwork mass of Halovians here, Pepeshi there, many of which are discussing unknowable things over their large menus. You tell yourself it’s nothing to worry about. Logically, Sunday must know something you don’t. Sunday must know a lot of things that you don’t. 

Sunday watches the slight movements of your jaw as your tongue curls around the next mint in your mouth. The first mint in your mouth had lasted two minutes, the next forty seconds, and the final only twenty-five. Perhaps there was something you were trying to purify within yourself—the unease he found so tantalizing at this moment, a symptom of your delicious eagerness to please—that you hoped to extract from each mint, your cheeks sucking in a nearly imperceptible degree as you drained each one dry. Sunday could imagine himself reaching over across the table to open your mouth with his thumb, saliva pooling in your mouth from the way you were siphoning the little white tablets greedily, the delicate muscles in your face spasming and twitching as you shudder beneath his velvet touch.

If he was a lesser man...

"Don't spoil your appetite on those mints, darling," Sunday jokes. He can immediately see you tense up from the name, swallowing the tablet in your mouth. "My apologies, Mister Sunday."

...Boss or not...why the hell were you apologizing to him?

"I told you, Sunday is fine," he smiles. "...Do I frighten you?" "Excuse me?" Sunday tilts his head to the side the slightest bit, his cranial wings drooping. Still, even as he expresses his supposed concern, his smile doesn't fade.

"You seem frightened, dear," he coos. "If I'd known you would hate dinner with me so much, I wouldn't have asked you." Initially, you feel yourself overcome with guilt. He was spending all this money on you just for you to be so skittish... But that was never the point of the dinner meeting, right? You bite your lower lip, mulling over the possibility of getting the topic of tonight's dinner back to that of your work. You look askance, to the lack of plate right before you, and then to him. "It's just a concern I had regarding budgeting for the venue," you lie, "Some of the cost estimates you'd previously requested have changed since—" You stop when you feel something touch your ankle. Sunday has leaned in closer to you to place his shoe between your feet. You look down to where his shoe must be under the table—hidden by the long tablecloth—then to him, with that static smile still on his face. Not a hint wider than he would smile at anyone else. "Isn't it peculiar?" he asks. Sunday hasn't been listening to you whatsoever. "Look around the room. Each and every table here is surrounded by strangers. These figures around us are unknown to us, and likewise we are unknown to them." Even when it's not the point of what he's saying, you can still feel that sense of malice hidden behind Sunday's teeth when he refers to the folk of Penacony. Avaricious, calloused, snobbish and cruel. Corrupt is often the term he uses, with a bite that seems to imply he finds himself distinct from it. Like a single healthy cell surrounded by cancerous tumor. The outer side of his shoe draws a line up your calf, and he continues.

"Don't you find it fascinating that all these people may glance at us—pay us no more mind than what we pay to them—and have no idea what we are to each other? Most don't even know I have a secretary," he grins. "Perhaps I enjoy keeping you as my little secret." What he says is enough to keep you silent until your food arrives.

--- a/n: thanks so much for all the notes on the last installment, everyone! hopefully a bit of worldbuilding isn't a turn-off to any of you, i'm obsessed with penacony's jazz age inspirations just as much as i am with sunday xD just for the sake of keeping things cut up right, we'll end things off here lolol tag list: @j1yu425 @crepezinhos

[reidmarieprentiss]

Lost in Translation: Part Two

Summary: Penelope hosts a brunch, Derek tells Spencer not to force you to talk to him. You make a new friend with a client, they convince you to go to the brunch.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: comfort, angst

Warnings/Includes: alcohol consumption, regret of past decisions, Penelope playing match maker

Word count: 8k

a/n: Spencer and you finally talk!!!

main masterlist prologue part one part three part four

You’ve been avoiding every time Derek invites you to go out with the BAU team since the embarrassing incident at the bar. Each time you decline, you can hear the disappointment in his voice, but the anxiety bubbling up in your chest whenever you think about seeing Spencer again is enough to keep you from saying yes. The embarrassment of that night still haunts you, and every time Derek mentions the team, you feel your heart squeeze with panic. 

To keep your mind off everything, you throw yourself into your work, accepting new clients and piling on extra projects. You stay late at the office, ensuring your schedule is so packed that you don’t have time to think about anything but deadlines, designs, and color schemes. It’s easier to focus on creating beautiful spaces for other people than it is to deal with the mess inside your own head. 

Meanwhile, Spencer is struggling. Ever since that night at the bar, the memory of you running out haunts him. He keeps replaying the look on Derek’s face, the way you bolted the second he walked in, and it twists his gut with guilt. But it’s not just that moment—he’s also haunted by the memory of how he left you all those years ago, how he slipped out of your bed without a word, too scared to stay and too ashamed to face you. The weight of those two moments presses down on him, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Spencer's work starts to suffer. During cases, he’s distracted, zoning out during briefings and losing his train of thought mid-sentence. Hotch notices first, his brows knitting with concern as he watches Spencer fumble through his notes during a meeting. JJ, too, picks up on the change, her subtle glances in his direction filled with quiet worry. They don’t push him—yet—but Spencer knows they’re watching, waiting for him to say something. But he doesn’t. He just keeps burying it, trying to push it all down.

Spencer also finds himself trying to be around Derek more often, finding excuses to stop by his desk or catch him after work. He never outright asks about you, but it’s clear that’s why he’s hovering. Whenever Derek casually mentions having seen you, Spencer’s eyes light up, a flicker of hope in the midst of his guilt. But Derek’s updates are always brief, never giving away too much. He knows you’re still hurting, and he’s not about to let Spencer think everything is fine when it’s not.

Spencer hovered near Derek's desk, tapping his fingers nervously on the edge as Derek typed away at his computer. The bullpen was quiet for once, just the low hum of conversation in the background. Spencer cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything right away, trying to come up with something that didn’t sound too obvious.

“Hey, uh, Derek,” Spencer started, his voice a little too casual. “You have any plans this weekend?”

Derek didn’t even look up, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knew exactly what this was about, but he played along. “Yeah, got a few things going on,” he replied, his fingers still tapping at the keys. “Why, you got something in mind, Pretty Boy?”

Spencer shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes darting around the room as if he wasn’t really sure what to say next. “No, I just... thought maybe we could grab a drink or something.” He paused for a beat. “Or, you know, if you’re hanging out with anyone else...?”

Derek chuckled softly, finally glancing up at Spencer with a knowing look. “Anyone else, huh?” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You mean, like Y/N?”

Spencer’s face flushed immediately, his hand rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I mean... I wasn’t... just curious,” he stammered, avoiding eye contact.

Derek sighed, leaning forward on his desk and crossing his arms. “Look, man, she won’t just magically want to see you. You know that, right?”

Spencer’s face fell, the small flicker of hope that had sparked just moments ago snuffed out. He swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I just... I guess I wanted to make sure she’s okay.”

After a long silence, Derek finally spoke up again. “Look, man,” he said, his voice a little gentler now. “You can’t keep hovering around me, hoping I’ll tell you she’s suddenly okay with everything. It’s gonna take time. And you’ve got to give her space.”

Spencer exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. “I know,” he whispered. 

Derek gave him a small nod, watching as Spencer turned to leave, his shoulders slumped under the weight of everything left unsaid. But just before Spencer walked away, Derek called after him.

“Hey, Pretty Boy,” Derek said, his tone a little softer now. “For what it’s worth... I think she’ll come around. But you’ve gotta be patient. Let her come to you when she’s ready.”

Spencer looked back at Derek, a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes again, but this time tempered with the understanding that it might take more time than he’d like. “Thanks, Derek,” he said quietly, before turning and walking back to his desk, his mind still racing with thoughts of you.

At this point, the rest of the team is fully aware of why you keep declining their invitations and why Spencer’s been so off lately. Penelope, in particular, can’t stand seeing anyone so miserable. After hearing about your history with Spencer from Derek, she’s taken it upon herself to figure out how to fix this mess. Penelope’s always been a sucker for a happy ending, and she refuses to believe that this is how your story should end.

So, she starts plotting. She ropes Derek into her schemes, convincing him that if anyone can get you two to reconcile, it’s them. Derek, though hesitant at first, agrees. He knows you, and he knows Spencer, and as much as he wants to stay out of it, he also wants both of his friends to be happy. 

Penelope sat at her desk, typing furiously away, when Derek walked up, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, watching her with a raised brow.

"Alright, Penelope, spill it," Derek said, voice low with suspicion. "What are you up to?"

Penelope’s fingers paused on the keyboard as she slowly turned to face him, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. “I have no idea what you mean,” she said sweetly, though her eyes betrayed her scheming.

Derek sighed, shaking his head. “Come on, don’t play dumb with me. I know you too well. You’ve been up to something ever since that mess at the bar.”

She sighed dramatically, leaning back in her chair. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m plotting just a little, but it's for the greater good.” She sat up straighter, eyes gleaming. “I mean, you want Y/N and Spencer to make up, don’t you?”

Derek hesitated, running a hand over his head. “Look, it’s not like I don’t want that, but... you’ve met Y/N. She’s not going to be happy if we force them together.”

Penelope waved her hand dismissively. “Pish posh! I’m not forcing anything. I’m simply creating a situation where fate can do its thing.” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Picture this: we invite Y/N to one of my brunches, or maybe to your next team gathering, and oh! Surprise! Spencer’s there. They bump into each other, sparks fly, and—boom! Reconciliation.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “You really think it’s that simple?”

Penelope's eyes widened in exaggerated innocence. “Of course not. But it’s better than both of them moping around like lovesick teenagers.”

Derek sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Mama, I want them to figure it out, but Y/N’s... she’s been through a lot. I don’t want to push her too hard. If she finds out we’ve been scheming, she’s going to be pissed. You have no idea how stubborn she can be.”

Penelope leaned forward, placing her hands flat on her desk. “Which is exactly why we need to be subtle about this, my sexy, sculpted cupid. We’re not going to push them. We’re just going to nudge them in the right direction. And if it doesn’t work? Then we back off. But I refuse to sit by and watch Spencer be miserable, and know she’s miserable too, when we could help.”

Derek looked down at her, his jaw tightening as he considered it. “And what if Y/N doesn’t want to see him? She hasn’t exactly been jumping at the chance to hang out with the team since that night.”

Penelope shrugged, giving him a hopeful smile. “Then we let it be. But Derek, what if this is the closure they both need? Or better yet, another chance? We owe it to them to try.”

Derek groaned, knowing she wasn’t going to let it go. “Alright, fine. But if this backfires, Garcia, you’re taking the blame.”

Penelope grinned triumphantly, clapping her hands together. “Trust me, Hot Stuff, it won’t backfire. This is going to work.”

Derek shook his head, laughing under his breath as he turned to leave. “You better be right.”

Penelope’s voice followed him as he walked out. “Oh, I’m always right when it comes to matters of the heart, Derek Morgan. Just wait and see!” 

Derek muttered under his breath, “We’ll see about that.” But deep down, he couldn’t help but hope she was right.

Their plan starts simple—just trying to get you both in the same room again, even if it’s by accident. As the wheels of their plan start turning, both you and Spencer remain blissfully unaware of their scheming. You’re too busy drowning in work, and Spencer’s too tangled up in his own guilt to notice the subtle nudges Penelope and Derek are starting to orchestrate. 

—

The lunchtime crowd hummed quietly around you as you sat across from Derek at your favorite corner table. The restaurant had always been your go-to, a cozy, familiar space where you could relax and enjoy the food without worrying about the outside world. Today, though, you were feeling anything but relaxed. Derek was giving you that look—the one that said he was about to bring up something you’d been trying to avoid.

“So,” Derek began, cutting into his sandwich, his voice casual, but his eyes watching you carefully. “Penelope’s throwing one of her infamous brunches this weekend. Thought you might want to come.”

You sighed, already knowing where this was going. “I don’t know, Derek. I’ve been really busy with work, and—”

Derek held up a hand, interrupting you gently. “I know, I know. You’ve been taking on a lot of new projects lately.” He paused, his tone softening. “But you’ve been avoiding hanging out with the team since... well, you know.”

Your heart tensed a little, but you quickly pushed the feeling away, forcing a smile as you sipped your drink. “I’m just not ready to jump back into all that. It’s been nice keeping my head down and staying focused.”

Derek leaned forward, his eyes full of understanding but also a hint of concern. “I get it, sugar. I’m not saying you should force yourself into anything. But maybe... maybe it’s time to let yourself have a little fun again. No pressure, just brunch with some really cool people. Penelope’s dying to see you again, and so is the rest of the team.”

You hesitated, your fingers tapping lightly against the rim of your glass. The thought of seeing everyone again made your stomach twist. But what if Spencer was there? What if you had to see him? You weren’t sure if you could handle that yet.

“Is Spencer going to be there?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

Derek paused, his fork hovering over his plate. He looked at you thoughtfully before answering, not wanting to lie but also not wanting to overwhelm you. “Honestly? Probably not.”

Your brows furrowed. “Probably?”

Derek shrugged, setting his fork down. “I haven’t heard anything about him coming, and knowing Spencer, he’s been pretty distracted lately. I doubt he’ll make it. But... even if he did, it wouldn’t be about him. It’d be about you. Hanging out with people who really want to get to know you better.”

You bit your lip, torn between wanting to stay in your bubble and knowing Derek was right. You’d been keeping yourself so busy with work that you hadn’t given yourself much time to just... exist outside of it. And as much as you hated to admit it, you really did like hanging out with Derek and Penelope and the rest of the team. 

But there was still that nagging worry—what if seeing them all again just brought back memories of Spencer? Of what happened at the bar, and everything that came before it?

Derek seemed to sense your hesitation, and he reached across the table, placing his hand on yours. “Hey, you’re not gonna be alone in this, alright? We’ve got your back. And if it gets weird or uncomfortable, we’ll bail. No questions asked.”

You met his gaze, seeing the sincerity there, the way he genuinely wanted to help you move past this. And honestly, maybe he was right. You couldn’t keep avoiding the world forever. Eventually, you’d have to face things—even the parts that hurt.

After a long moment, you sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Alright,” you said, though your voice still held a trace of uncertainty. “I’ll think about it.”

Derek grinned, clearly pleased with your response, even if it wasn’t a solid yes just yet. “That’s all I’m asking, sweetheart. Just think about it.”

You smiled, though your mind was still turning over the idea. It wasn’t a decision you were ready to make just yet, but the fact that you were even considering it felt like a step in the right direction.

—

Derek found Spencer sitting at his desk, flipping through a stack of papers, though it was clear his mind was miles away. His usual hyper-focused energy was absent, replaced by an air of distracted tension that had been hanging over him for weeks now. Derek knew it wasn’t just the cases that had Spencer like this. It was you.

“Hey, Pretty Boy,” Derek said casually as he leaned against the side of Spencer’s desk, crossing his arms. Spencer looked up, startled out of his thoughts, blinking rapidly as if he hadn’t even noticed Derek approach.

“Oh, hey,” Spencer replied, a faint smile flickering on his lips. “What’s up?”

Derek didn’t waste any time. He leaned in a little closer, his voice lowering so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard by the rest of the team. “Listen, man, I wanted to give you a heads-up about something.”

Spencer sat up a little straighter, already sensing that this wasn’t just a casual conversation. “What is it?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Derek rubbed the back of his neck, weighing his words carefully. “Y/N might be coming to Penelope’s brunch this weekend,” he said, watching Spencer’s reaction closely.

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as he processed the news. “She is?” His voice was quiet, a mixture of hope and nerves in his tone.

“Yeah, but here’s the thing,” Derek continued, his tone more serious now. “You’ve gotta give her space, man. Let her come to you when she’s ready. She’s not gonna want you chasing after her or trying to force a conversation. If she shows up, it’s a big deal for her.”

Spencer gave Derek a sharp look. "I'm not a child, Morgan. I can handle this."

Derek nodded, lowering his hands. "Fair enough. I wouldn’t expect you to. Just... give her the space she needs, alright?"

Spencer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Understood. I know I messed up, and I’ll give her space. But I’m not going to act like she doesn't exist. I care about her too much for that."

Derek gave him a small, encouraging smile. "That’s all I’m asking, man. Just be ready when the time’s right." With a final pat on Spencer’s shoulder, Derek straightened up. “See you at brunch, man. Just... take it easy.”

Spencer watched as Derek walked away, the weight of the conversation settling heavily on his chest. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy. But for your sake, he was willing to wait.

—

On your most recent job, you quickly hit it off with Austin, the person you’re helping redesign their living space. They’re warm, funny, and easy to talk to, and the two of you click almost immediately. 

After finishing up the day’s discussion on design plans, Austin smiles and offers, “How about a cup of coffee before you head out? I make a mean brew.”

Grateful for the break and their company, you nod. “I’d love that.”

Austin heads to the kitchen, and you follow, feeling like you’ve made a new friend as much as a professional connection.

As you sit in the newly remodeled kitchen with Austin, the atmosphere feels warm and cozy. The soft glow of sunlight through the windows highlights the potted plants neatly arranged on the shelves, while the scent of fresh coffee fills the air. Austin hands you a mug, their smile easy and comforting as you settle into a chair.

You and Austin chat aimlessly for a while, exchanging stories and making easy, lighthearted conversation. The topics flow naturally—favorite movies, travel dreams, and funny stories from work. Eventually, the conversation shifts when Austin starts gushing about their partner, eyes lighting up as they tell you about the recent proposal and how they’re working to finish the house before their partner officially moves to Virginia.

“So, they proposed right there in the park,” Austin says with a dreamy grin. “I swear, I didn’t even see it coming. I was still thinking about what we were going to have for lunch, and then bam, ring in my face!”

You smile, warmed by their excitement. “That’s amazing. It sounds perfect.”

“It was,” Austin beams, looking star-eyed thinking about their fiance. Then, they turn to you with a curious glint in their eye. “Okay, so spill. Anyone tickling your fancy lately? I don’t see a ring.” They gesture to your bare hand with a teasing grin.

You laugh lightly, rubbing your ring finger absentmindedly as you sigh. “Yeah, maybe, well, no. There’s this... guy. But it’s complicated.”

Austin’s grin widens as they lean in, clearly intrigued. “Complicated, huh? Oh, now you have to tell me. What’s the tea?”

You take a breath, then dive into the story. You don't name names—you never know who’s going to know Spencer now—but you tell Austin about the guy from your past who broke your heart, the one who ghosted after everything. You explain how, years later, he's suddenly back in your life, and how seeing him has stirred up all those old feelings again, leaving you confused and unsure of what to do.

Austin listens intently, nodding as you talk. "That sounds rough," they say softly when you finish. "It’s totally valid to feel hurt, and it’s understandable if you don’t want to rush back into anything."

"Yeah, thank you—but... it’s been years. Shouldn’t I be over it by now?" you ask, feeling the familiar frustration rise in your chest. "I’ve been ignoring him, avoiding anything or anyone that might bring him back into my life, but now I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing."

Austin leans back, resting their mug on the table. "It’s not about how long it’s been; it’s about how it affected you. It’s okay to still feel hurt. But maybe... hearing him out could give you some closure. It doesn’t mean you have to forgive him or let him back into your life, but it might help you move forward."

You bite your lip, considering their words. "I don’t know if I can face him. What if he just makes things worse?"

Austin smiles, their expression soft but encouraging. "Only you know what you need. But remember, this isn’t about him. It’s about you. What do you need to feel at peace with all this? If hearing him out helps, then maybe it’s worth considering. If not, that’s okay too. Just make sure you’re doing what’s best for you, not what’s easiest."

Their words settle over you like a comforting blanket, making you feel understood. Austin seems to have a way of turning serious conversations into lighthearted moments, and you’re grateful for it.

"Plus," Austin adds with a grin, "if it goes badly, you can always stage a dramatic exit at the brunch. I’m talking about flipping tables and storming out—full soap opera style."

You laugh, the weight of the situation lifting just a bit. "You know, that might actually make it worth going."

"Exactly!" Austin beams. "But seriously, I think you should go. If nothing else, you'll get some great brunch food, and maybe—just maybe—you'll get the closure you're looking for. Worst case, you can leave and we’ll plan the perfect revenge."

Feeling more confident with their support, you finally nod. "Alright, I’ll go to the brunch."

Austin claps their hands together excitedly. "Good! And I’ll be here, ready to hear all the details afterward."

With that, the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon chatting and laughing, the heavy weight of indecision lightening with each joke and bit of encouragement. Austin’s easygoing nature and advice give you the nudge you need to face the upcoming brunch—and Spencer.

—

That night, as Spencer lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind began to wander, slipping into the memories of a time he hadn’t let himself revisit in years—college, the late nights in the library, the quiet moments spent with you. 

He could still remember the first time he saw you on campus, walking across the quad with your head down, focused on a book you were balancing in your arms. You hadn’t noticed him then, but he had noticed you—how could he not? The way you carried yourself, the quiet confidence in your demeanor. At first, he admired you from a distance, his heart catching whenever you passed by in a hallway or sat near him in the library. You had no idea, and he was too shy to ever approach you.

Then came the nights in the library, when fate—or maybe just a shared dedication to studying—brought you together. The quiet hum of the fluorescent lights above, the rustle of pages being turned, and the way your pens would scratch in unison over notebook paper as you both worked. He remembered how, over time, you grew comfortable with each other’s presence, exchanging little smiles, shared inside jokes, and eventually conversations that lasted longer than either of you planned.

There was one night, in particular, that stuck in his memory—a night when you two had stayed so late that the library lights started to dim, signaling closing time. The campus was quiet as you both walked out together, the cool air brushing against your faces. You had laughed about something, your eyes lighting up in the moonlight, and Spencer remembered how his heart had fluttered in that moment, wondering how someone could make him feel so at ease. He never thought he’d get to know you, let alone be someone you’d spend your nights with, even if just for studying.

And then came the night that changed everything. The night you had invited him over after finals, and things became more than just studying. He hadn’t expected it, didn’t even dare to imagine it, but when it happened, it felt... perfect. 

You had fallen asleep on his chest that night, your soft breaths a rhythm against his skin. He remembered lying there, tracing small patterns on your back, feeling the warmth of your body pressed against his. It should have been the best night of his life—and in many ways, it was—but his mind, his insecurities, had taken over. He remembered thinking that you were too good for him, that someone like you wouldn’t want to stick around for someone like him. And that fear, that crushing fear of losing you, had driven him to leave.

Spencer swallowed hard as the guilt washed over him again. He had been so lovesick, so desperate to protect himself from the inevitable heartbreak he assumed would come. But in doing so, he had created a heartbreak that had lasted for years—for both of you.

Now, on the eve of seeing you again, the weight of it all pressed down on his chest like a heavy stone. The regret was unbearable, but so was the longing—the memory of your laughter, your smile, the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. Spencer felt a deep ache in his chest, his heart pounding with the knowledge that he might never get the chance to tell you how much you had meant to him, how much you still did.

He had been infatuated with you all those years ago, and now, he realized, that feeling had never truly gone away.

Unable to sleep, Spencer tossed and turned, his mind refusing to quiet. Every memory, every regret, kept replaying on a loop. With a sigh of frustration, he finally threw the covers off and dragged himself out of bed, padding down the hall toward his office. 

He knew it was pointless, but something inside him—maybe it was curiosity, maybe guilt—compelled him to open his laptop. His fingers hovered over the keys for a moment before they moved almost automatically, typing your name into the search bar.

Within seconds, your business page appeared. Spencer hesitated before clicking, his heart racing, his palms suddenly clammy. It felt intrusive, like peeking into a part of your life he no longer had the right to know about, but he couldn’t stop himself.

As the page loaded, his eyes immediately went to the gallery of your work—beautiful, thoughtfully designed interiors that gave him a glance into you, your mind. He scrolled through the images slowly, taking in the details. The colors, the arrangements, the way you made spaces feel both warm and elegant. He had always known you were talented, but seeing the breadth of your work now, years later in a professional sense and not just sketches for class, filled him with a sense of pride. 

And then he saw it—your headshot, nestled at the top of the page alongside your name and title. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the picture. There you were, smiling, your eyes bright, your expression so familiar it made his heart ache.

Spencer leaned closer to the screen, his gaze fixating on the details of your face. He studied every line, every angle, as if trying to memorize you all over again. It had been so long since he’d seen you up close, but here, on this screen, you felt so near and yet so far. 

His fingers grazed the edge of the trackpad, hesitant, before he clicked on the image, enlarging it until it filled the screen. He stared, lost in the sight of you—how much you had grown, how much you had changed, but still so much the same. The emotions welled up inside him, a mixture of longing and regret, so intense he could hardly breathe.

He had left you, walked away when he was too afraid to face what he felt, and now, all these years later, here you were, thriving in a world he no longer shared with you. Spencer wondered if you had moved on, if you had someone else in your life now, someone who appreciated all the beauty and warmth you brought into the world.

But even more than that, he wondered if you would ever forgive him.

Spencer stared at your picture until the screen blurred, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness—he knew that much. But as he sat there, in the silence of his office, staring at the face he had missed for so long, he couldn’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, you would give him the chance to try.

—

You showed up to Penelope’s place early, just as promised, with Derek by your side. He immediately went to help her hang up string lights while you and Penelope stayed together, fussing over the final touches. The atmosphere was lively and fun, and you were glad you came today.

When you entered her kitchen, Penelope lit up. "Oh my God! Look at you! I am in love with your outfit!" she exclaimed, her hands clapping together in excitement. You grinned, feeling the compliment ease some of your nerves.

“You’re one to talk,” you gestured towards her own colorful ensemble, the vibrant red and playful green perfectly matching her quirky style. “You look like you stepped out of a fashion magazine—one that I desperately need a subscription to."

Penelope twirled dramatically, her beret perched at the perfect angle, making the charm bracelet on her wrist dangle and jingle. "Stop it, we’re just the most fashionable duo, aren’t we?" She winked at you before handing you a mimosa. "Okay, now drink up. We've got some brunch magic to make happen."

As you sipped the bubbly drink, you couldn’t help but feel the knot of anxiety loosen in your chest. You and Penelope moved around the kitchen, arranging pastries and fruit trays, talking about everything except the one thing you knew was still looming in the background—Spencer. But for now, with the lights twinkling outside, the mimosas in hand, and Penelope by your side, you allowed yourself to feel a small sense of peace.

As the morning drifted into late brunch hour, the doorbell chimed, signaling the arrival of the first guests. You exchanged a quick, encouraging glance with Penelope before taking another sip of your mimosa, the fizz tickling your nose as you set the glass down.

“I’ll get it!” Penelope sang, already halfway to the door. You watched from the kitchen as she swung it open with her signature flair. “Elle! JJ! Look at you gorgeous queens!”

Elle was the first to step inside, her calm confidence radiating as she gave Penelope a warm hug. “You’re too much,” Elle smirked, though you could see the affection in her eyes as she gave Penelope a squeeze. 

JJ, all smiles, followed closely behind, her sunny personality lighting up the room the second she entered. “Garcia!” she exclaimed, leaning in for her own hug. “This place looks amazing, as usual.” She cast a quick glance around the room, taking in the string lights, the vibrant color scheme, and of course, the immaculate spread of food that had been lovingly arranged.

Penelope didn’t miss a beat. “Girls, you remember Y/N!” she called over, practically skipping as she gestured towards you. “She’s my stylish new partner-in-crime today.”

Elle and JJ turned toward you with warm, inviting smiles. JJ was the first to step forward, her kindness evident in her expression. “Y/N! Of course we remember. I’m glad you’re here!” She opened her arms for a quick, friendly hug, which you returned, grateful for her easygoing energy.

Elle followed suit, her smile softer but no less welcoming. “Good to see you again,” she said, giving you a nod of approval as she took in your outfit. “You’re definitely keeping up with Penelope in the style department.”

You laughed lightly, feeling the tension start to ease as you hugged Elle too. “I had to step up my game, knowing she’d outshine all of us,” you joked, throwing a playful glance at Penelope, who was already bouncing back towards the food to check on the platters.

Derek, meanwhile, appeared from the other side of the room, finishing up with the string lights. He clapped his hands together, grinning as he walked over. “Ladies! Looks like we’re in for quite the brunch.”

JJ raised her glass in response, smiling. “Cheers to that. It’s been way too long since we’ve had a proper get-together.”

Elle nodded in agreement. “Let’s hope the food tastes as good as it smells. You and Penelope outdid yourselves this time.”

Penelope shot her a cheeky grin. “Oh, honey, just wait until you taste it. Y/N’s been helping too—she’s a natural!”

You felt a small flush creep into your cheeks at the compliment, but the easy laughter and casual conversation swirling around you made it hard to feel too self-conscious. It was starting to feel like maybe this day wouldn’t be as nerve-wracking as you’d feared.

Next to arrive, in a much more subdued manner, were Hotch and Haley. Hotch entered with his usual calm presence, while Haley smiled warmly, her arm linked with his. She radiated a gentle energy that put you at ease immediately. As they approached, Hotch offered a small nod of greeting, his serious demeanor softened just slightly by the casual setting.

“Penelope, this place looks amazing,” Haley said, her voice filled with admiration as she took in the setup. “It’s so cozy and beautiful.”

Penelope beamed, twirling slightly as she accepted the compliment. “Why, thank you! Y/N helped with all the setup. We’re a dynamic duo today,” she said, sending you a proud wink.

Haley turned her attention to you, her smile genuine as she extended her hand. “Y/N, it’s great to meet you. I’m Aaron’s wife, Haley. Penelope mentioned you have an eye for design, and I can definitely see it.”

You shook her hand, grateful for her easy manner. “Thank you, Haley. I’m glad you like it. It’s nice to meet you too.”

Hotch gave you a polite smile as well. “Good to see you, Y/N,” he said simply, his voice carrying its usual quiet authority but without the edge it often had in more formal settings.

“It’s good to see you too, Hotch,” you replied, matching his composed tone.

The group began to chat casually, the energy shifting to a more relaxed rhythm with Haley’s calm presence balancing Penelope’s excitable nature. You found yourself blending in more easily than you expected, the unease you felt earlier starting to fade away as the conversation flowed naturally.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that, so far, everything was going smoothly. The brunch was shaping up to be a success, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment without worrying about what—or who—might come next.

But then, just as you were starting to relax, there was a knock at the door. The sound sent a jolt of anxiety through you, your breath catching in your throat as the lighthearted atmosphere suddenly shifted. You choked on a breath, your fingers tightening around your glass. 

Derek, noticing the slight change in your expression, patted your shoulder reassuringly before heading to the door. He swung it open with his usual confident ease, his grin widening as he greeted the new arrivals.

“Gideon! Reid!” Derek’s voice was full of his usual warmth, but when your eyes caught sight of Spencer standing just behind Gideon, your pulse spiked.

Gideon stepped inside first, laughing as he shook Derek’s hand. “You know how much Spencer hates driving. He practically begged me to pick him up,” he joked, casting a sideways glance at Spencer, who was lingering just outside the doorway.

Spencer offered a small, awkward smile, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket as he gave Derek a polite nod. "Yeah, driving... not my favorite thing."

Your heart hammered in your chest as you saw Spencer—looking the same, yet different. His hair was longer, his expression a little more weathered. He seemed hesitant, as if unsure of his place in the room, but when his eyes quickly scanned the space and landed on you, they widened ever so slightly.

Derek caught the momentary tension between you and Spencer, his jaw tightening subtly. He turned to the rest of the group, his tone trying to smooth over the sudden shift in energy. “Alright, everybody, make room for these two. Brunch is waiting to be devoured.”

Penelope quickly stepped forward to greet Gideon and Spencer with an exuberant smile, acting oblivious to the quiet storm brewing between you and the man now standing only a few feet away.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to breathe, and turned away, praying no one could see the turmoil swirling in your chest.

Gideon, ever the perceptive one, glanced around the room, his eyes briefly scanning each face before they settled on you. He tilted his head slightly, the hint of a curious smile playing on his lips. Without missing a beat, he broke away from the small group forming near the entrance and made his way over to you.

“Hello,” Gideon greeted you warmly, extending a hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Jason Gideon.”

You blinked, momentarily startled by the direct introduction, but quickly reached out to shake his hand. "Y/N," you replied with a polite smile, though your voice wavered slightly, the nerves still simmering beneath the surface. "It’s nice to meet you."

Gideon’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he studied you for a moment, seeming to pick up on the tension you were trying so hard to conceal. “Derek speaks highly of you,” he added kindly, his tone gentle, as if sensing that you needed a little bit of reassurance.

Your stomach twisted, but you nodded in response. “He’s a good friend,” you said, glancing in Derek’s direction for a split second before focusing back on Gideon. 

The conversation had inadvertently drawn Spencer's attention. From the corner of your eye, you could see him turn slightly, his gaze shifting from Gideon to you. His posture stiffened, and though he remained rooted to his spot near the door, his eyes were now locked on you, a flicker of recognition passing through them.

There it was—the moment you had been dreading. You didn’t have to look directly at him to feel the weight of his gaze on you. Spencer, standing just a few feet away, realizing that you were here.

Gideon seemed to notice too. He glanced over his shoulder toward Spencer before turning back to you, his expression a little softer now, as if understanding something unspoken.

“Well,” Gideon said after a brief pause, “it was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” He gave you a final smile before turning to rejoin the others, leaving you standing there with your pulse racing and the unmistakable feeling of Spencer’s eyes still on you.

You exhaled slowly, trying to steady yourself. This was exactly what you had been trying to avoid, but now there was no escaping it. You made brief eye contact, nodding in acknowledgement as Spencer gave you one of his infamous tight lipped smiles. 

Spencer stood frozen in place, his breath catching in his throat the moment Gideon’s conversation with you drew his attention. The sight of you—standing there, laughing politely at something Gideon said—was like a punch to the gut. He had been preparing himself for this, trying to steel his nerves, but nothing could’ve braced him for the actual moment of seeing you again.

You looked incredible, more radiant than he remembered, and the sight of you stirred up everything he had been trying to push down. The memories flooded back—the long nights in the library, the gentle teasing, the way your hand had felt in his, and the soft sound of your laugh. You should say something, he told himself. But his feet remained firmly planted on the floor, rooted in the swirl of emotions tightening his chest. 

Spencer felt a wave of heat rush over him. You looked so good—better than he’d ever allowed himself to imagine in the countless nights he’d lain awake thinking of you. That plaid dress you wore, the way it cinched at your waist, how your hair framed your face perfectly—every detail made him dizzy. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as he tried to focus, but all he could do was stare. 

God, what am I supposed to say? You hadn’t looked at him again since the brief glance. The thought gnawed at him. Does she hate me? Is she angry? Does she even care that I’m here?

His mind spiraled deeper, the insecurity choking him like a vice. Every possible scenario played out in his head: You turning around, glaring at him with the bitterness you were more than entitled to feel; you ignoring him completely, dismissing him as though he didn’t matter. Both options made him feel sick. 

I don’t deserve to talk to her, he thought miserably. 

But he wanted to. He wanted so badly to close the space between you, to say something, anything that might take back the years of silence and cowardice. His hands fidgeted nervously at his sides, his mind screaming at him to move, to walk over, to apologize, to finally make things right. But Spencer stayed where he was, staring at you like a man drowning, desperately reaching for the surface, for something to anchor him—but unable to find it.

You shifted slightly, turning in his direction for just a second. Your eyes flickered toward him once more. The briefest glance, and then you quickly looked away.

It was enough to make his heart drop.

She can’t even look at me.

Spencer clenched his jaw, the painful mix of regret and longing clawing at his insides. He could hear Derek’s words echoing in his head—give her space, let her come to you on her terms. But the problem was, he wasn’t sure he could wait anymore. How could he, when just seeing you from across the room was this overwhelming?

He stood there, drowning in his own thoughts, desperate to say something, to do something that would fix it all. But he couldn’t. Not yet. And it was tearing him apart.

As the brunch carried on, Spencer couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, even though he was seated far enough that any chance of a conversation seemed impossible. You were right there, at the opposite end of the table, laughing, talking, and enjoying yourself with everyone else. Each time you laughed, it felt like a tug on his heart, reminding him of what you two had shared all those years ago.

The way you joked with Derek so easily, the way your banter flowed naturally—Spencer couldn’t help but feel that pang of jealousy creep in. It was irrational, but he couldn’t ignore the small voice in the back of his mind whispering that maybe, just maybe, you had moved on with Derek. He tried to shake the thought, knowing how close you and Derek were as friends, but the insecurity was there nonetheless, gnawing at him.

Maybe that’s why Derek doesn’t want me to push things, Spencer thought bitterly, feeling the weight of his suspicions grow. Maybe he wants her for himself.

Spencer’s hands tightened around his glass, the icy chill of his now cold tea doing nothing to cool the heat rising in his chest. He knew he was being ridiculous, but the thought wouldn’t leave him. It stuck in his mind, festering as he watched Derek’s casual affection toward you. It didn’t help that you smiled at Derek the way you used to smile at him. 

When you excused yourself to make more tea, Spencer’s mind was spinning too much to stay seated. He couldn’t let the jealousy take control, but it was too late; it had already wrapped around his thoughts, suffocating any sense of logic. Before he realized it, his legs had carried him from the table, following you into the kitchen.

The moment you walked into the cozy kitchen that you'd helped Penelope prepare, the warm smell of the tea leaves filled the air. The clink of teacups and the sound of water boiling were the only things breaking the quiet of the room. You didn’t notice Spencer following you at first, too caught up in refilling the teapot and enjoying the brief solitude from the table’s conversations.

Spencer hesitated at the entrance to the kitchen, watching you from behind as you moved gracefully between the counter and the kettle. His heart was pounding, the thoughts racing in his mind, torn between his guilt over the past and the irrational jealousy clouding his judgment.

Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but thick with everything he was holding back. “Y/N.”

You turned at the sound of his voice, surprised to see him standing there, clearly not expecting this moment. The tension between you two was palpable, hanging in the air like a weight neither of you was ready to address.

"Spencer," you acknowledged softly, your hands still on the teapot as you stared at him. The awkwardness was undeniable, but there was something else too—years of unspoken words, regrets, and emotions neither of you had faced.

Spencer swallowed hard, his throat tight as he stepped further into the kitchen. "I... I just wanted to—um, I need more tea," he said, fumbling for words, clearly not sure how to approach the conversation.

“Oh, okay,” you replied, surprised that was all he said but pleasantly relieved at the simplicity of it. "I can make you a cup if you want."

Your offer seemed to melt some of the tension in Spencer’s demeanor. His expression softened as he realized you were still the same kind person he’d fallen for all those years ago. “Thank you, that’s really kind of you.”

You nodded, reaching for the teapot. "Milk and sugar? Honey?"

He let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, all of it, please. I like it sweet."

“I know,” you mumbled, the words slipping out naturally. You’d seen Spencer drink his overly sugary coffee so many times back in college, his sweet tooth no secret to you.

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, fidgeting with his hair as he tried to keep the conversation light. "Do you still drink coffee? Or is it all tea now?"

You shrugged, pouring the tea into his cup. “I do both. No need for all that caffeine today.” You laughed softly. “For work, though? That definitely requires coffee.”

Spencer smiled, feeling a little more at ease. "Yeah, I get that. My body’s probably made up of pure coffee by now," he joked, happy he’d chosen to stick with casual conversation rather than diving into the deep, painful history between you two again. 

Maybe Derek was right—maybe you would come to him when you were ready. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, his heart sank. Derek. He remembered the way you laughed with him, how easily you’d fallen into a rhythm with him at the table. 

The jealousy he’d managed to suppress earlier crept back in, though he did his best to push it down again. You were being kind, and he didn’t want to ruin this moment. But still, the thought lingered—was Derek the one holding you back from wanting to talk to him?

But you’d already turned around, catching the pensive look on Spencer’s face. "Everything alright?" you asked, a little concerned by the way his expression had shifted.

“Yeah,” he said quickly, looking up at you with a soft, almost hesitant smile. "So, uh, you and Derek, huh?"

You blinked, tilting your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Spencer’s fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cup as he mumbled, “How long have you guys been... seeing each other?”

You burst out laughing, surprising him. "Me and Derek? No, no, no," you said, waving your hands dismissively as you continued to chuckle. "He’s my best friend. That’s all."

“Oh," he nodded, clearly unsure. "I just thought—”

But you cut him off before he could finish, handing him his tea with a small smile. “Tea’s ready. Here.” Your voice was soft but awkward as you backed out of the kitchen. “See you out there.”

With that, you made your way back to the brunch party, leaving Spencer standing in the kitchen, processing what had just happened. 

That was the end of your conversation for the day, but it was enough for him. Spencer’s heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. 

He could work with this.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[jarofstyles]

The Heart Of The Woods

Hi my loves! I wanted to give you guys a peek into our grumpy mountain manrry! He’s different to some that I’ve written before but I think you’ll like him if you give him a chance

Read the series ( 9 parts ongoing) and 220+ exclusive writings on our Patreon!

WC- 1.4k

Warnings- tiny bit of rejection, asshole h

He hadn’t been sure what he was thinking.

Hiring a housekeeper had not been on his agenda, but it put his mum at ease. Being far from her, up in his large cabin in the middle of the mountain, she had said she worried a lot about not only his well being, but about him overworking himself. His days started early, working on splitting wood, emails, driving down to deliver it, and all of that. His group of employees that worked on the lot not too far from his own place up the mountain were his main source of socialization and even they knew not to bug him too much.

Harry preferred to be left alone.

So why hire a housekeeper? It sounded okay at the time. Someone to keep the fire stoked and the house warm so he could come home and not have the house be cold for him and his animals, someone to cook and clean and… another body in the house. Make it less lonely. Maple was a good companion, Ash was too, but a dog and a cat didn’t replace human connection. Perhaps that’s why he had found himself feeling more irritated lately.

Watching the car pull in, he had to wonder how she could fit her belongings into such a small vehicle. Weren't women supposed to have a lot of stuff? The question was answered as she stepped out of the car, light wash jeans clinging to her thighs and pink sweater hanging on her form as she waved up to him. "Hi!" she grinned a tad bit too brightly for his comfort, jogging up to the wraparound porch. "I’m so sorry l'm a little late. I got lost at the turn- the split in the road? and I didn't have good service to call and let you know. I usually try and do that.”

She was rambling.

He grumbled, wiping his hands on his work pants. “Late's fine. I didn’t have any plans today, just don’t make a habit of it.” Glancing at her car, then back at her, he gave her a little bit of a look. “You got everything you need?” He wasn’t the best at socializing, famously, but she wasn’t aware of that yet considering their talk had mainly consisted of emails. It would be something she quickly found out.

“Oh!” Her chuckle was nervous as the man stood tall above her on the wooden porch, making her look up a bit at him. “Uh, yeah. I.. I kinda had to get out of my place in a hurry, so this worked out.” She smiled up at him before looking back to her car. “Did you want me to grab my stuff now or did you want me to do it after you give me the run down of what you want me to do?”

He sighed, stepping aside to let her pass. “Follow me.” He led her inside, shutting the door behind her. It was weird feeling someone else in his space. It had been a long time since he’d heard footsteps other than his own or his pets in the hall, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it yet. Leading her down the wooden hall, he brought her towards the main part of the house- a large step down living room he mentally referred to as the den. The stone fireplace was lit with the fire going already as he gestured to a chair by it. “Sit.”

Y/N was distracted a little by the skylight- and then the view outside. It was absolutely gorgeous. The whole place was. She had slightly underestimated it despite the size of the place when she had applied to work eyes but she would make it work. At least the view was great. She could see that there was a deck outside, the view of the mountains sprawling behind them sort of blowing her away. The awe only lasted a few moments though, when she heard him clear his throat. Oops. “Sorry.” She smiled nervously. “The view distracted me. You’ve got a beautiful home.”

He grunted, not really used to compliments. Small talk wasn’t his thing. He sat down in his recliner, stretching his legs out in front of him before resting his hands on his knees. “So, as your employer, I expect you t’keep this place clean. Cook meals, do laundry, that sort of thing.” He paused, looking at her critically. “M’not home most of the day, and when I am I’m usually in my workshop. It’s the building out to the side that you saw.” He clasped his hands together. “We don’t need to have a ton of interaction. I need you to keep the fire stoked, maybe feed Ash for me if I get back late. I don’t have a lot of rules, but I ask you to respect my space.”

“Uh, alright.” She nodded, taking out her phone to take notes. “I figured the normal house stuff. I…” Her body felt the cringe as she went to ask it. “I haven’t really stoked a fire longer than it’s taken to do a bonfire while camping so, if there’s some sort of magic you know to keep it going longer I’d love to know it.” The girl didn’t want to fuck it up. The man worked with wood. The last thing she wanted to do was waste it.

It did make her a little unsettled to hear the other part, though. “Um, and what do you mean exactly by not needing to interact? Like, you don’t want to see or hear from me?”

Harry paused, his gaze sharpening a little on the girl. He was used to being alone. He liked being alone. He didn’t want to come home to some sort of chatty roommate. “I mean exactly that.” He said gruffly.

“Oh.” She replied quietly, swallowing the lump on her throat. Her gaze averted when his sharpened on hers, looking towards her lap. He was a little intimidating and she felt embarrassed for some reason- but logically she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong. Didn’t mean her body knew that, though.

“O-Okay. I’ll make sure to give you your space.” Her head nodded, convincing herself it would be good for her. Maybe akin to rejection therapy. She had hoped for something a little different, but this was the escape she had needed- she couldn’t complain. “Can you tell me what kind of foods you like, or don’t, so I can make what you’ll eat?”

Harry grunted, his expression relaxing slightly at the mention of food. He hated being bothered with small talk, but food was something he could appreciate- it was part of her job, anyways. He could talk abojt that. “I like meat and potatoes. Steak, roast chicken, mashed potatoes, that sort of thing. Don’t bother with fancy shit. Just straightforward, hearty food.”

He paused, thinking for a moment before continuing. “And coffee. Black coffee. None of that fancy latte crap. Just straight up coffee.” He stood up, stretching his arms over his head. “That’s all you need to know for now. You can start preparing dinner and I’ll be back later.”

“Oh! I… are you sure?” She stood up too, following him. “Where should I put my things?” Part of her felt a little nervous she had fucked up with how fast he seemed to want to get out of there, but she didn’t know what she could have done to offend him. Was this just the way he was? Probably. She shouldn’t take it personally- but part of her did, just a bit. “I don’t know which room I should set my things up in.”

Harry turned around, his expression still stern. “You can set up in the spare room down the hall. It’s the first door on the right.” He pointed down the hallway before continuing. “I don’t need any help with my things. Just worry about your own shit for now.”

Her eyes fell down towards the floor, nodding at his words. It must just be the way he was, she concluded. He didn’t bother saying goodbye as she heard the door close, the ticking of the large grandfather clock in the den the only sound until the start of his pickup was muffled outside.

Who the hell was this man? And what had she gotten herself into?

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (4 - The Assistant)

Chapter Summary: Wanda is worried that you're being distant and unhappy. She tries to get to the bottom of it without using her powers, but ends up discovering something else entirely. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3.1k+ | Chapter Tags/Warnings: Mentions of smut

A/N: Because it's my birthday today, you guys are getting another chapter tonight. // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You’ve been awfully quiet since the Harvest Festival. Wanda can feel it—the suspicion you’re ruminating on—simmering just beneath the surface. It gets under her skin, that urge to use her magic, to just pull the truth out of you. She’s done it before. She could do it again.

But she doesn’t.

Wanda stays put, waiting for you to crack, for something to slip. Her fingers itch to do what’s easy, but she forces herself to stop. Instead, she gives you space. If she can’t fix this, if she can’t make you talk, the least she can do is give you room to figure it out on your own. It’s not much, but it’s all she’s got. And for her, holding back like this is harder than anything else—not when she’s already gone to such lengths for your happiness together.

Eventually, Wanda reaches her breaking point. She’s on the verge of using her powers on you again when, one morning, she wakes to find her panties slipped down to her ankles and your head nestled between her thighs. ​​Judging by the way her body feels and the shiver that runs through her, you’ve been at it for a while. Her breath hitches as the pleasure builds higher and higher, and when it crests, she comes with a soft cry, her fingers tangling tightly in your hair. You rise up to kiss her sweetly, and she hums softly against your mouth, tasting herself there.

“Good morning,” you murmur, nuzzling her cheek and down the length of her neck. Her skin is soft and faintly flushed, and you breathe in the faint scent of her—sweet, comforting, intoxicating.

Wanda’s chest rises and falls, her breaths still uneven. She manages a veiled, almost dazed response. “Good morning, indeed.”

You kiss her temple before sitting up slightly, meeting her eyes. Even though you’ve just woken her up with an orgasm and you're staying close, affectionate even, there’s something distant in your eyes—something that only appeared after the festival.

“Can I return the favor?” she asks, her voice still shaky, hoping making you feel good will make her feel better about this whole thing.

You shake your head slightly, “No, you don't have to.”

“But I want to,” she insists softly, reaching out to caress your jaw lovingly.

You turn your head slightly and press a kiss against her palm. “It might be a while before I get there, Wanda. I just took an Adderall,” you say.

Wanda’s disappointed but she nods slowly, trying not to read too much into you calling her Wanda instead of the affectionate nicknames you usually have for her.

“I gotta wake the kids,” you say, slipping out of bed. “Bath time, then school prep.”

You leave the room, your footsteps fading as Wanda lies back, wrapped in the unsatisfying afterglow.

–

When you're with the twins, you're back to your usual, goofy self.

Wanda watches you with a soft smile as you take care of the kids—keeping them entertained enough to get them bathed, dressed, and making sure they finish their oatmeal. She was right—she always knew you’d make a great mother. Now, she’s living in a world where it’s undeniable. You handle everything with such ease, like you were meant for this.

She doesn’t even have to do much beyond cooking and keeping the house tidy. Even with your busy work schedule, you still manage to help out on the weekends and always take care of the dishes after dinner.

This life, the simplicity of it, is everything she’s ever wanted. A home, a family—with you at the center of it all.

It certainly doesn't hurt that you look incredibly appealing in the loose white, open button-down shirt you're wearing, neatly tucked into navy slacks that hug your hips so perfectly. Wanda can't help but wonder if it's even fair for you to wear that to work, considering how good it looks on you.

“Hey, boys, before we head out, what do we say to Mama?” you call out, rounding up Billy and Tommy with their backpacks slung over their shoulders.

“Bye, Mama!” they chorus, but you give them a pointed look.

“Uh, and?” you prompt, eyebrows raised.

The twins exchange a quick glance before racing over to Wanda, each planting a sloppy, hurried kiss on her cheek. 

As they attempt to sprint away, Wanda wraps her arms around them, pulling them back into a longer embrace. “Hold on, not so fast,” she murmurs, holding them close. 

The boys giggle and hug her back. “Love you, Mama,” they say.

“Love you more,” Wanda replies, her heart swelling as she finally lets them go. 

They dash for the car, their feet barely touching the ground in their excitement. Wanda then turns to you, expecting a quick goodbye kiss, but you're already by the door, keys in hand.

“I might be late tonight, got some extra work. Don't wait up, okay?” you call over your shoulder.

Her smile falters, and her heart tightens painfully in her chest. 

You've never left without asking for a goodbye kiss before.

“Okay, love. Be safe,” she says. 

Although she’s vigilant in not using her powers on you this time,  it doesn't mean she's out of ways to find out what's going on with you.

–

When Agnes first started trying to befriend her, Wanda wasn’t exactly welcoming. Agnes was never invited—she always invited herself over. Wanda didn’t bring over homemade dishes like most neighbors; instead, it was always Agnes showing up with pies or other sweets for no particular reason. Over time, the guilt of constantly being on the receiving end of Agnes’s attention and gifts nudged Wanda into softening, eventually opening up enough to call her a friend, even if it felt strange at first.

Wanda can count on one hand the people she’s considered her friend in her lifetime. And that already includes you. Aside from you (though you didn’t like her very much at first, in fact, you distrusted her for months before things started to develop in a positive direction), she only really felt cared for by Clint, Steve, and Vision.

Pietro was her best friend. And even after you came into her life, she missed his presence, the way he was protective but also her greatest critic. The way he called her out on her bullshit, and the way he supported her ambitions and motivations, even if they were morally ambiguous just to keep her safe. That Pietro-shaped hole was never filled by anyone, not even you. You just happened to occupy a bigger area in her heart that losing Pietro didn’t hurt as much as it did before you.

So, she’s surprised at how her connection with Agnes has grown into something resembling friendship—a relationship that none of her old friends, or you, would ever approve of. Agnes is everything her other friends were not. She’s not kind or selfless, doesn’t share that good-hearted nature that Wanda’s always been drawn to.

And that's exactly how Wanda ends up riding shotgun in Agnes’s car, tailing you as you drop off the twins and head to work.

Wanda nervously glances over at her friend. “Are you sure she won't notice us?” she asks, biting her lower lip.

Agnes smirks, eyes on the road. “Relax, sweetheart. I know what I'm doing. She won't have a clue.”

Wanda fiddles with the edge of her sleeve. “I just... I've never done anything like this before,” she says.

“There’s always a first for everything,” Agnes winks at her. “Though I never pegged you for the snooping type. Imagine my surprise when you asked me for help. I thought you were very…goody-goody.”

Wanda sighs. “I am. It's just—” She hesitates, almost saying more than she should. “Back home, we always shared our locations on our phones. We always knew where the other was.”

Agnes wonders where home is, because Wanda doesn’t seem to be referring to Westview. 

“Really? Sounds a bit... invasive,” Agnes snarks. “Though, I can't say I’d blame you for wanting to keep your wife on a short leash.”

Wanda furrows her brow. “What do you mean?”

Agnes gives a dismissive roll of her eyes. “Come on, Y/N is gorgeous. You must see that.”

Wanda is about to launch into a whole rant about how much she sees it, how fully aware she is that everyone else sees it too, when your car finally pulls up to the school's driveway. She watches as you step out to walk the twins to the entrance. You give the boys a quick hug before they run inside. 

But as soon as you turn back toward the car, heading off to work, Wanda tenses up again.

“She might notice us,” Wanda whispers, sinking lower in her seat.

Agnes chuckles. “Trust me, with all these cars around, we're just another pair of morning commuters.”

“I just don't want her to think I don't trust her.”

“Then why are we following her?” Agnes asks pointedly.

Wanda looks down at her hands. “Because something's changed. And I need to know why.”

Agnes wonders why Wanda won't just ask you directly what's wrong. Though something tells her that this isn't a typical marriage issue. Maybe if she plays her cards right, she might get Wanda to open up just a little bit more—enough to fully let her in.

“You know,” Agnes continues carefully, “if something's bothering you, talking about it might help.”

“It's just... I feel like she's slipping away from me,” Wanda murmurs. She knows she can't confide in anyone about this—especially not Agnes—but she feels like she might burst from all the secrets she's been keeping lately.

Agnes glances sideways at her. “People don't just drift for no reason. Any idea what's causing it?”

Wanda shrugs, avoiding eye contact. “Work has been... demanding lately.”

“Has it?” Agnes presses. “Or is there something else?”

Wanda swallows hard. “I don't know. Sometimes I think she might've figured out that—” She cuts herself off, biting her lip.

Hook, line, and sinker, Agnes thinks to herself. Just a little bit more.

“Figured out what?” Agnes asks, her tone deceptively casual.

“Nothing,” Wanda says quickly. “Just that maybe she's unhappy.”

Agnes bites the inside of her cheek, her smile faltering for a split second. Inside, she’s bristling. It’s maddening how slippery Wanda can be, how carefully she guards her words. The effort it takes to keep up the charade, to play the concerned, clueless neighbor, is starting to wear thin.

But she didn’t get this far just to get this far. 

“Oh, Wanda, if she’s unhappy, maybe there’s something I can do. You know, a friendly ear can work wonders,” Agnes suggests through gritted teeth.

“I appreciate that, but it's personal,” Wanda replies, her voice tight.

Agnes sighs theatrically. “Fine, keep your secrets. But remember, I'm a good listener.” 

Another time then. She is nothing if not patient.

Before Wanda can respond, she spots your car turning into the parking lot of your office building. “There she is,” she says.

They watch as you park and step out, adjusting your bag over your shoulder. You pause for a moment, looking around as if sensing something, then head inside.

Wanda falls back into her seat with a defeated sigh. “She seems... normal.”

Agnes arches an eyebrow. “Isn't that a good thing?”

“I suppose,” Wanda murmurs, though her eyes remain fixed on the entrance where you just disappeared.

Agnes impatiently taps her fingers on the steering wheel. “So, where to now? The salon? Or maybe you want to grab a Margarita to go with lunch?”

Wanda doesn't respond, still staring at the building's entrance. 

“Wanda?” 

At that, Wanda suddenly snaps out of her reverie and unbuckles her seatbelt. Agnes does the same, prompted by Wanda’s sudden haste. 

“What are you doing? You're not going to make a scene, are you?” Agnes.

“I think there might be someone who can give me answers,” Wanda mumbles distractedly.

“And who might that be?”

“Her.”

Agnes follows Wanda’s line of sight and spots Geraldine, your assistant, emerging from the building. Geraldine, who is still wearing the same clothes from when Wanda first met her, starts walking down the sidewalk, oblivious to the two women watching her every move.

“Geraldine?” Agnes lets out a soft, incredulous scoff. “And what do you think she’s going to tell you?”

Wanda is already reaching for the door handle. “She works with her every day. If anyone knows what's going on, it's her.”

“What? But Wanda, that’s—”

But Wanda is out of the car before Agnes can finish, her focus entirely on your unsuspecting assistant. 

Agnes groans inwardly as she watches Wanda’s purposeful strides. “Fine,” she mutters under her breath, her talon-like fingernails scratching the leather cover of her steering wheel. “I’ll let you be this time. But all roads lead to me, Wanda, darling.” Despite her curiosity, she doesn’t stick around. She shifts into reverse, pulls onto the main street, and speeds off.

Wanda steps right into Geraldine's path, causing the other woman to halt abruptly to avoid a collision. Geraldine blinks in surprise but quickly recovers with a warm smile. “Oh! Wanda, hi! Didn't expect to see you here. Are you looking for Y/N? I can take you up to her office if you'd—”

“Hi,” Wanda says, giving a short wave that's more of a hand signal to stop her from talking. “Uh, Geraldine, right? Actually, I was hoping to talk to you.”

Geraldine’s smile dims only a bit. “M-Me?”

–

Wanda doesn’t have to put in much effort to get Geraldine alone for sandwiches at a nearby deli. In truth, it’s more like she tags along after Geraldine casually mentions that you’d be expecting your lunch at your desk within the hour. Though you’re known for being a patient boss—and Geraldine never misses an opportunity to sing your praises, much to Wanda’s irritation—Geraldine is firm about her own punctuality. She cuts her lunch breaks to a strict thirty minutes, ensuring she has time to deliver your meal early.

That doesn’t leave Wanda much time to extract the answers she’s after, but she’s determined to make the most of it.

Still, it’s not in her nature to jump straight to the point. Skipping the pleasantries feels too abrupt, too conspicuous.

“How are you doing?” Wanda asks, trying to match Geraldine’s upbeat energy. It comes out more like a squeak than the breezy tone she was going for. She takes a small sip of her drink before adding, “Good?”

Geraldine’s smile is sunny as ever. “Oh, it got pretty hectic lately at work, as I’m sure you know. But I'm good. How about you?”

Wanda stirs her tea, watching the leaves swirl. “Doing alright. Keeping busy with the boys.”

“They must be growing like weeds,” Geraldine says warmly.

Wanda forces a small smile. “Yeah, they keep us on our toes.” She had hoped to stretch out the introductions, build some rapport first, but her mind is frustratingly blank when it comes to small talk. Conversation has never been her strong suit.

Taking a deep breath, she prepares to dive right into the real purpose of this meeting. “Has everything been okay at work? With Y/N, I mean,” she says. 

Geraldine gives it a thought or two, before answering, “As far as I know. She's been a bit more focused lately, but that's just the board pushing those quarterly quotas.”

“Quotas?”

“Yeah, they're really piling on the pressure this quarter. But you know her—she handles it like a champ,” Geraldine says with a dismissive shrug. “I've been making sure she eats well, though. Only the most nutritious lunches to keep her going.”

“That's thoughtful of you,” Wanda murmurs. Her fingers tighten imperceptibly around her cup, the way Geraldine speaks about you striking a nerve she doesn’t fully understand. Geraldine pretends not to notice anything, just as she’s supposed to.

“You know,” Geraldine says after a beat, “when she’s not working, her mind is always on you and the twins.”

“She talks about us?”

“Absolutely,” Geraldine continues enthusiastically. “Just yesterday, she was showing me Tommy's drawings and Billy's latest test papers. You have a beautiful family, Wanda. Your boys are something special. I can only hope to raise my own kids as well as you do someday.”

“They are,” Wanda agrees, momentarily forgetting about her worries about you. Hearing about the twins always lifts her spirits.

Geraldine sighs happily and takes a bite of her Reuben.

“I'm a twin myself,” Wanda says quietly. “I had a brother. His name was... Pietro.”

“He was killed by Ultron, wasn’t he?”

Wanda doesn’t react right away. The words sink in slowly, like quicksand pulling her under.

“W-What did you say?” Her voice is quiet but carries a dangerous tremor, like a storm cloud about to burst.

Geraldine blinks slowly. “I... I don't know why I said that,” she stammers. 

Wanda's voice takes on a dangerous edge. “How do you know about Ultron?”

“I-I don’t know,” Geraldine insists. “It just came out.”

Wanda slowly tilts her head to the side, her eyes growing cold as it narrows on Geraldine. “Who are you?”

It’s devoid of any warmth—only suspicion and a seething edge that makes Geraldine recoil slightly.

“I'm—” Geraldine stammers, her voice catching. She looks around the shop, desperate for a way out. But there’s no one. The staff who had been behind the counter this whole time is suddenly nowhere to be found. “Wanda, I swear, I don't know. I didn't mean—”

“I think you should leave,” Wanda says finally. The tone of her voice carries the warning itself.

Geraldine stares at her, wide-eyed and trembling. “Wanda, please—”

“Leave.”

In the next second, Geraldine—or rather, Monica—learns the hard way that it’s not a suggestion; it’s a command.

–

“W-Wait,” Darcy stammers, her nose practically touching the television screen from how close she’s peering at it. “Where did Monica go?”

“I think it glitched or something,” Jimmy suggests, peering over her shoulder. 

“That doesn't make sense,” Darcy mutters, frantically rewinding the footage. “She was just there.”

They both stare at the screen showing Wanda sitting alone in the deli, sipping her tea like nothing happened. Darcy wants to bang her head against the monitor. It's the first time any of the characters in Wanda's show has referenced a real-world event, and now they're having technical difficulties? Unbelievable.

Before they can process what's happening, a commotion erupts outside the tent. 

One of Hayward’s envoys bursts in, breathless and wide-eyed. “You guys need to see this!”

Darcy and Jimmy exchange a quick, worried glance before rushing out. Whatever just happened to Monica can't be good, and the situation seems to be spiraling out of control—fast.

[evilminji]

You know what? I just had A Thought(tm)~☆

Danny. Our bby boy. MINDING HIS BUSINESS. Maybe visiting one of his buddies in the Realms after he graduates. When he just?? Get full on tackled from the sky.

And like?

Huh.

THIS hasn't happened in a bit. Not since he's become king. Legit, no one dares. He's honestly kinda missed it. Alright, square up... Mr. Uuuuuh.... Who are you?

And it's this barely formed New Ghost. Still in that glitch-y goopy blob phase and everything. Is Baby. Why... why does this infant Want To Fight God? I mean. He Respects It(tm), no lie, but? Not exactly usual for him?

And it turns out? This dude is some rando hero. He basicly JUST died. By all rights SHOULD be resting and gathering his strength to Form Right. But he's so worried for his team mates and everyone else he CAN'T. Recognized a fellow Hero's Costume even at a distance.

Please. PLEASE! You have to help him! We have to WARN everybody!

And Danny is just? Oh no. This Actual Infant Baby is gonna Anxiety himself to Actual Second Death at this rate. Yes! Sure! Just CALM DOWN! Anything you need buddy! BREATHE.

And this dude? Who died? Is legit a minor player who got WAY too deep but refused to abandoned People In Need(tm). It happens. It HURTS. But he saved a LOT of lives before he went down. Him and his team were just some Minor Heros from Belarus. How they ended up in deep space? Even THEY couldn't tell you.

They couldn't even bring him home.

He forgives them.

He could NEVER blame his friends. Not for this. The planet is in danger. Some... some THING. An invasion. The League has to be made aware. He DIED helping a planet try to evacuate all that they could. He... at least he...

He can't remember if the Eggs got out. They... they're like babies. A whole room full of toddlers who couldn't run. They had to de-connect from the main building to lift it out. He can't... can't...

He saved them... right? Held on.. long enough? Why can't he.. he...

Danny has to make him focus be for the kid spirals. Don't think of your last moments. Purpose. You NEED to do something right now, right?

Right! The League! We gotta warn them! And... okay. Danny can totally do that. (What LEAGUE??!) He DEFINITELY knows who you are talking about and will tell them Right Away. YOU however are gonna rest up.

So he leaves the kiddo with Lunch Lady. Mother and Frightening Matriarch Extraordinaire. Lunch Box promises to SIT on him if he tries to sneak off. Good kid. Now eat your soup before you BECOME soup.

Time to bully the eyeballs. Whoms't the F*ck is this "league"? And where does he find it? Talk. He has sand and he's not afraid to use it. Don't MAKE him get out the pepper grinder! Yeah. That's what he THOUGHT.

After much, prolonged and unnecessary, whining and dramatic threatening... he gets a printed out map. Cheapskates even used flimsy paper. He gets there. Jaunt is even kinda nice. He says hi to a few folks he hasn't seen in a while.

Opens a portal.

Steps out.

Gets punched in the face. RUDE! He punches the flying blue man back. Dents their wall. Not even a LITTLE sorry about that now! See if HE does you a favor aga-... is that his Ex? John?

John! Constantine you B@STARD. YOU OWE ME 20 BUCKS. *Ten different hands slap a twenty on the table at his feet, including Constantine. Who is refusing to look at anybody.* Well, okay then. Debt payed. Gonna buy himself a shake or something, after this.

ANYWAY~ Good News Or Bad News?

He is met with silence. It's like they've never seen an ethereal, giant, glowing man with a suit that looks like a cut out of the night sky, step out of an eye searing rip in reality before. Man they're lives must be boring. But frankly? Danny can wait. It's not HIS reality that's gonna get messed up. He can take care of it if the wanna be Wah Babies. Good News or Bad News??? Pick one.

He sits back in the air and waits.

@stealingyourbones @cyrwrites

[hxney-lemcn]

Best Friend — Idia Shroud x gn! reader

summery: Idia realizes that you might be closer than he thought.

tw: uhhh none I think.

a/n: idk if this is bad, I think I got Idia's personality right. This is kinda more platonic, but could be read as romantic.

wc: 0.6k

Master List

The more Idia got to know you, the more he realized you might’ve been less of a normie than he originally thought. Of course you were nowhere near Idia’s status of loser otaku, but you still surprised him. It started with you complaining about something called vocaloid? Idia hadn’t heard of vocaloid before, but when you explained the concept he realized it was your world's version of synthaloid. That was the first time he started to question his view of you. As you complained about not being able to listen to vocaloid anymore, he introduced you to some synthaloid songs. He watched as your eyes lit up, head bobbing to the songs as you scanned the lyrics. 

He hadn’t heard of normies liking synthaloid, but you were still too extroverted. I mean you had how many friends in how many dorms? Total normie activities. Yet you shocked him once again when you then started complaining about missing this one video game you used to play. Apparently it was really chill but competitive. When you mentioned it was called AFK Journey Idia froze, he played a game with an uncannily similar name. So he introduced you to AFK Adventure, and found his heart jumping as you gushed passionately, comparing all the similarities and differences. AFK Adventure was still growing, and the fact that you played your version only months after it was released…he once again questioned if you really were a normie. 

The final nail in the coffin was when you complained about how exhausted you were. The main reason why he classified you as normie was because you were social, you had friends, you barely had a phone! (That wasn’t your fault, you had no money after all). So when you complained that you were tired from all the socializing, that you found refuge in his room because you felt like you could truly relax by just playing video games…well he was a bit flustered to say the least. You found him comforting? You found his messy, gross room relaxing (Ortho tried his best to clean it before you arrived)? You enjoyed playing video games with him even if he would tend to blow up if someone annoyed him? 

Idia found himself sharing more with you. It seemed like everywhere he looked (online) he’d find something about you to connect it with. You’d really like this anime, it seemed similar to one you described from your world. You liked chill games right? Well there's this mobile digital pet game you’d like, you just have to friend him. Oh, fanart of your fav character…he’d send it to you if he had the courage. He had also set you up with a pc, laptop, and upgraded your phone without a second thought. It was only to encourage you to go on games to give him rewards…totally. 

And not to mention, when you first joined AFK Adventure, Idia kicked out a member from his guild to let you join. His other guild members were highly confused he let in a noob join since it was a whale only guild (don’t worry, you weren’t a noob for long…thank Idia’s credit card). 

One night, when you both were playing a video game together, you had fallen asleep on his bed. The laptop he had given you was still running, but it was pushed to your side. Idia couldn’t help but feel his face heat up, you looked so peaceful in his space. That’s when he realized he wasn’t truly alone anymore, even if he stayed holed up in his room, you managed to wiggle your way to join him. You would rant about nerdy things to him only, a special privilege you hadn’t bestowed to any of your other friends. He had come to a conclusion that somewhat scared him.

Idia Shroud had a close friend, he wasn’t alone anymore.

[togrowoldinv]

First Date

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

You pick Wanda up at her home for a date and learn a lot about the woman by the time she goes back inside that night

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, mommy kink (oops), thigh riding, oral (R receiving), Wanda’s first time with a woman

Note: Milf!Wanda, am I right? Y’all enjoy this one!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You take a deep breath and knock on Wanda’s front door. You fiddle with the flowers you bought her as you anxiously await for her to open the door.

The woman had agreed to go out with you after you met her in the coffee shop you work at. You weren’t usually one to ask customers out, but you felt drawn to her in some way. And she seemed to have felt it too.

The door opens and there’s a young child standing there.

“Hi,” he says to you. “Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m y/n. Is this Wanda’s house or?” You are asking the question when the woman finally makes her appearance.

“Tommy! What did I tell you about opening her door?” Wanda scolds him lightly.

“Not to do it,” the little boy says, his eyes avoid Wanda’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Mom. That’s not a piece of information you knew about the woman.

“That’s alright, sweetheart. Try to remember, okay?”

“I will!” The boy promises. Wanda kisses his head and he runs off inside the house.

Wanda finally can turn her attention to you.

“Hi y/n,” she says. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries,” you reply. “These are for you.”

You hand her the flowers and she holds them to her heart in awe.

“Come on in and I’ll put these in a vase before we go,” Wanda says.

“I’m assuming that’s your son?” You make small talk as you follow her inside.

“Oh, yes. That’s Tommy. He’s my rambunctious one. Billy is much more calm.”

“Right. Okay, so two kids then?”

“Yes. Twin boys. Is that a dealbreaker?” Wanda asks, her voice only half indicating she might be joking.

“Of course not. I love kids,” you say. She breathes a sigh of relief. “Plus, that means I’m dating a total milf.”

Wanda laughs so hard at that comment that she can barely breathe. You smile at how beautiful she is even when she’s cackling.

“I needed that laugh,” Wanda says as she finally gets her breathing back to normal. “I just need to tell the boys goodbye and I’ll be back, okay?”

“Perfect,” you say.

You give the woman the space to go and tell her sons goodbye. You can’t hear much through the walls but you hear a chorus of I love yous as Wanda leaves the hall and finds you again.

She follows you to your car and you open the door for her. The car ride goes quickly and you’re at the restaurant and seated in record time.

The talk between you and Wanda flows easily and it’s like you’ve known each other for a long time. Dinner is a delight and on any normal date you’d want to take her home that night, but you don’t want to rush things.

Still, you park back in Wanda’s driveway and neither one of you necessarily want this night to end.

“Wanda, I had an amazing time tonight,” you say. You look over at her in the passenger seat. She’s absolutely glowing in the moonlight.

“Me too, y/n.”

Wanda leans in just a few inches closer to you, but she stops.

“You’re going to have to kiss me because I’m too scared to kiss you,” she admits, her eyes gazing into yours.

“You don’t need to be scared, baby. How long has it been?” You ask. She knows what you mean.

“Far too long.”

“Let’s fix that.”

You take Wanda’s face into your hands and kiss her. You put everything you have into the kiss and Wanda melts into a puddle from the feeling. Your hands and your lips and your tongue make Wanda feel like a brand new woman.

“Is it always that good?” She asks once you break for air.

“No ma’am it is not,” you reply.

“I really want you,” Wanda says. She gasps at her own bluntness. “Sorry, I just- that was amazing, but I don’t expect anything else.”

“Wanda, I really like you,” you assure her. “If you want me right now, you can have me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Come here,” you say, moving your seat back and tapping on your lap.

Wanda moves to your lap and her skirt slips further up her legs. Creamy thighs reveal themselves to you.

“Wanda, you’re so beautiful,” you tell her. You run a hand through her hair and she shivers. Pulling her down for a kiss, you’re sure to let your other hand wander over her.

It slips under her shirt and up her abdomen to her chest. Wanda moans into the kiss when you fondle her breast under her shirt.

She pulls away and lets you pull her shirt over her head. You go for her neck this time, kissing and leaving bites that make her let out delicious sounds.

You notice the woman is desperate to relieve the feeling between her legs.

“Wanda, baby, ride my thigh,” you instruct her.

“Are you sure?” She asks.

“Definitely. Let me help,” you say.

You pull her skirt further up her hips to reveal her lacy underwear. You slip your fingers across the wet material and pull them to the side.

Wanda gasps at the sensation of her naked pussy rubbing against your pants for the first time. Once she gets a rhythm, she feels better than she has in years.

“I love seeing you like this, Wanda,” you encourage her. “You’re doing so well.”

“Fuck,” Wanda moans. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah I know it does, mommy,” the word slips out, but the way Wanda has to grip your shirt harder to keep herself from falling over with pleasure tells you that it’s okay. Even that she likes it.

“I’m going to come,” Wanda says, her words mixing with moans of pleasure.

“Come for me, Mommy,” you say.

Wanda comes hard against your thigh. Her legs shake as she leans against you.

“Fuck that was so good,” Wanda says. She grabs your face and kisses you passionately. It almost feels like a thank you kiss.

Wanda smiles at you when she pulls away. You swear you’ve never seen such a beautiful woman.

“Can I- do you need to-“ Wanda stumbles over the words.

“Only if you want to,” you say to her. “I’m more than happy to just please you.”

“No. No, I just haven’t- with a woman before,” Wanda admits.

“Oh, well you just did pretty damn amazing. You’ve got this,” you say.

Wanda chuckles and she situates herself on her knees in front of you.

“May I?” She asks, gesturing to your pants.

“Please,” you say.

Her deft fingers work to pull your pants down your legs with your underwear as well. Wanda hesitates, so you guide her to your center. She licks through your folds slowly, but once she gets comfortable she picks up the pace.

“Just like that Wanda, fuck,” you say as she keeps going. She gets the hang of what makes you feel good quickly.

When she uses her thumb to brush against your clit while her mouth is still at work, you grip her hair tight.

“Are you going to come for Mommy?” Wanda pulls her mouth away just enough to speak.

“Yes ma’am,” you reply.

She grins devilishly and puts her mouth on you again. She’s successful in just a few more minutes.

You ride out your high and Wanda climbs back up into your lap.

“Thank you for tonight,” Wanda says. “I haven’t felt this good in- well maybe ever.”

You kiss her lips softly. A reminder that you really like her.

“I feel good too, babe. Can I see you again?”

“Is tomorrow night too soon?” She asks.

“Tomorrow night sounds perfect.”

Wanda moves back to the passenger seat and you two get dressed again. With one more goodnight kiss Wanda goes inside her house, and you drive home with a smile on your face.

Best first date ever.

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Being Self-Destructive

Requested: Heeeeyyyyy can I request an angst but hurt/comfort request with a main lot from boys where r is like a younger sibling to them but struggles with self-worth and is self-destructive and it worries them? - anon

A/N: Thank you for requesting my love! I really hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated my loves!!!! 💜💜💜

Butcher wants to smack some sense into you. Literally. But he can't because that would be wrong and probably drive you away even more. Instead, he yells and screams and badgers the same old subjects because you don't change, you don't listen. You fight back. The screaming matches you two get into are legendary. You fight anywhere and everywhere. The drinking, the drugs, the hurting yourself and other people, it was all unacceptable. He saw you as a younger sibling, someone to protect. He wasn't going to be around forever and you needed to get your shit together before then. He had to know you'd be okay without him. This was your life. If you wanted to set it on fire, you had every right to. Butcher was a hypocrite and you both knew it.

Hughie worries about you constantly. Every time you miss a meeting or a mission, every time you disappear for days on end, it fills him with anxiety and dread. There's nothing he can do to stop you, you're an adult. And yet, he goes through every scenario possible, every worst case scenario. Everyone tells him to give up on you. You're trouble. But he can't help but feel responsible for you the way an older brother would. When you show up at his place in the middle of the night he drops everything. You're so unhappy, it hurts him to see. Drunk or high or just messed up, he always let's you in. He makes sure you're fed and safe even if it ends up hurting him in the end. He can't turn his back on you. And when you leave again, because you always do, he'll call and text and make sure you know you have someone in your corner.

Annie gives you your space at first. She thinks you need some time to deal with your shit just like everyone else. But when nothing seems to be getting better, when your tendencies become even more self-destructive, she can't sit by and watch. She hates to do this, especially when she sees you as a younger sibling, but she gives you an ultimatum: her and your friends or throwing your life and potential away. Blinded by your insecurity and shame and self-consciousness, you pick yourself. You havent spoken to her since, but she reaches out constantly. Texting and calling and showing up at your place, waiting for hours, hoping she'll run into you. You don't want to see her or any of them. If you wanted to hurt yourself then you would. You wouldn't let them control you. She doesn't regret what she's done, but she feels terrible about it. Everyone says she did the right thing.

M.M. can be cruel at times. He doesn't want you throwing your life away like this. The drinking, the drugs, hanging out with the wrong crowds, this isn't you. He takes more of a fatherly role than a brotherly one. He can't help himself. He sees the self-destruction and he wants to shake you, snap something in you until it makes sense. Until you see the value you have as a person. He's nit the only one who sees the decline, but he I'd the most vocal. Sometimes it's tough love, other times it's gentle parenting. He'll try anything and everything if it means going back to the person you were. Sure, the team needed you, but Marvin needed you more. He didn't care about the things you've done in that were done to you, it didn't matter to him. Just getting better was what he cared about. Getting better and finding your way back to yourself.

Frenchie knows exactly what you're feeling. You hate yourself and you hurt yourself and it's a vicious cycle of bandaging your wounds only to reopen them again. He tries to talk to you, to get through to you the best he can, but it's so hard to listen. You really don't believe you're worth an ounce of kindness or forgiveness. Your past haunts you. Your decisions, your experiences, what's been done to you. When you mess up, he's always there for you. He knows what it's like, he wouldn't wish it on anyone else, but especially not you. He doesn't believe in lost causes and he would never give up on you the way others have. You just need time and understanding and someone to tell you they care about you. That's all. It'll go a long way. He sees a future for you, one that is bright and happy, you just can't imagine it.

Kimiko hates that you're throwing your life away because you think you're not worth it. She tries tough love and talks to you and when that doesn't work, she gives you the silent treatment. It hurts both of you, but she can't let this happen. She can't let you drink or smoke or anything your problems away just because you think you're a bad person because of what you've done. You've all done things you aren't proud of, but you're trying to do better now. She can't help but take a sisterly role and that hurts her even more. You beg and plead for her to listen, to understand, but she can't. You're bright and funny and caring. You're a good person whose had some bad stuff happen. That doesn't make it okay to hurt yourself and everyone around you like this.

Bonus! Homelander hunts you down and talks to you. There are no threats, but you know he's angry. Furious, even. So you stay and you listen and you don't fight back. Getting into trouble, hurting yourself, that's wasn't you! You were part of The Seven, you were powerful and intelligent and, though he hated to admit it, like a little sibling to him. He wasn't going to watch you destroy everything you had ever worked for because you felt bad about yourself, because you didn't believe in yourself. It wasn't just that though. It was the things you'd done, they haunted you. The people you hurt. He didn't really care about that though. All he cared about was you. You getting better, you figuring it out, you going back to the person you were.