#maybe I’ll save the detailed one for another day or something

[silksongeveryday]

I had a super detailed hornet drawing planned but I didn’t get to finish it in time so instead I spent the last four and a half hours making a “quick” animation instead thinking it would be easier.

Only thing I can conclude after spending that long on an animation is that confetti is unreasonably hard to animate. And the end result doesn’t really look that good either lol, but I spent a while on it so I’m committing to it and posting it for tomorrow’s 1 year post

[luveline]

Hi!! Sometimes in ur bombshell reader fics she talks about how she has nervous energy would u ever write a bombshell reader fic where she has one of those days where she just woke up wired and Spencer tries to calm her down?

“Spencer,” you whisper. 

“What?” 

Spencer turns another page. You, across from him with your legs crossed, slouched, poke at his leg gently with your foot. “What are you reading?” 

“It’s just a book on Wyoming land boundaries.” 

You nod. Spencer watches you from across the top of his book, at first without worry, and then an attentiveness that furthers all the reasons you may or may not be in love with him. 

“You okay?” 

Everything should be fine. The case is solved. You’re heading home, without turbulence, two hours at most from touching down after a job well done. “I’m fine.” 

“You sure?” he asks. 

You smile fraughtly. You try your best to be the perfect image, to put that best foot forward, and you nail it ninety nine days out of a hundred. Nobody knows about your nervousness besides you, and that’s how you’d like it to stay, but Spencer clearly cares about you too much to look away. 

He closes his book and sets in on the table, pushing a glass into his hand. “Here,” he says, leaning forward. “It’s not poisoned.” 

You take it. Feeling his gaze, you drink a little sip that immediately goes down the wrong way. Your coughing swallow perturbs him worse. 

People tend to look at Spencer and see someone who needs more help. Even the people closest to him can doubt his ability, but as far as you’re concerned he’s proven to understand emotion quite well. He won’t shake a stranger's hand, he can’t flirt to save his life without notice, but he can make you feel better. He’s good at taking care of you, even if nobody else can see it. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, leaning right over to touch both your knees at once. He pushes your skirt up a half inch with the movement, but his eyes are on your face. “You have the jitters?” 

“Think so,” you murmur. 

“Maybe it’s the air pressure.” 

You’re sure he knows you get like this sometime, but his explanation is kind. His hands on your knees are somehow strangely placed and still a natural feeling. Just like sitting together at his place to watch TV, or elbow to elbow on the train into New York, your boundaries with one another are eroding. 

“Wanna come and sit by me?” he asks, like he’s thinking the same thing. 

You laugh softly. “In all that space?” 

The seat is big enough for a larger person, but not you and Spencer together. 

He squeezes himself right to the side. “Come on,” he insists, sitting back, “just sit with me.” 

“I’ll squish you.” 

“So squish me.”

You think about it before setting your traded glass down. You don’t know why you have these weird moods, you don’t understand what it is about Spencer that can make them feel better, but he’s offering to make it go away. You have no real reason to turn him down. 

In the end, you sit in the chair beside him, ignoring Hotch’s perturbed look as you stand and then quickly plop yourself down at Spencer’s side. Your thigh has to go completely on top of his, but otherwise, it’s not so bad. It’s more room than you thought. 

It works quicker than you could imagine. With both of your heads held back the space between you is still minimal, which means his face is in detail. His hair brushed back and with the barest traces of gel, a little curled, what had Hotch said? His boyband hair.  

Spencer turns toward you, eye shadowed as he presses his forehead to the chair. “Is it just jitters?” he asks. 

“Sometimes I think I get… weird,” you say. 

“Me too.” He pulls your leg further into his lap. You’re shocked at first, but it’s a friendly move that takes the strain off of your knee. “Can I tell you something?” 

“Of course you can.” 

“I’ve started to care a whole lot less about being weird since I met you.” 

You fight the urge to touch his hair. “I don’t think it’s about caring, Spence, I just.. don’t feel right.” 

“Okay.” He nods sincerely. “Okay, well, we can work it out. We’re still hours from Virginia, you can turn your brain off. We can work it out.” 

You’re relieved to have him promise it. This isn’t the sort of thing you can work out, but it doesn’t matter, Spencer caring this much makes all the difference. You take a deep, deep breath, and you give him a grateful smile, before you rest your cheek on his shoulder. That’s just wanting, no weird feeling or jittering at the root of you as he lets a warm breath kiss your forehead, his nose pressing into your skin. 

“Don’t let anybody see,” you mumble. 

His next breath is a little shaky. “I won’t.”

See what, you’re not sure. But soon you start to feel less like you’re gonna try popping open an emergency window, and that’s enough for now. 

[reidmania]

love letters | s.reid

summary; when you miss spencer while he is away on a case, you re-read all the love letters he has written you over the course of your relationship

warnings; established relationships, mentions case but doesnt go into detail, fem reader, reader is not a coffee drinker, fluff fluff fluff

an; fic six!! this is just pure fluff tbh. also can we appreciate the colouring on this fic. ITS SO PERFECT PRETTU PERFECT.

You’re lying on the bed that feels too big without him, your fingers idly tracing the edge of a soft, worn piece of paper. The clock beside you reads 2:12 a.m., and you can’t shake the emptiness settling over you as you stare at the ceiling, too awake to sleep and too tired to do anything else. Spencer’s been away for three days now, and every hour without him feels like it stretches on and on, the silence heavier than you’d ever thought silence could be.

Your eyes drift back to the drawer beside your bed, a drawer he never opens, but where you keep something he would recognize instantly. Tucked away are letters, dozens of them, each one a quiet reminder of him. They’re notes, really—not grand declarations, not epic poems. Just little reminders he’s left you over time, slipped into coat pockets or left folded on your pillow. You hadn’t intended to save them all, but now, having them close is the only thing keeping you grounded while he’s away.

You open the drawer and pull out the little bundle tied with a piece of twine. Your heart swells as you untie it, gently unfolding the first note. It’s one of your favorites, written on a torn scrap of notebook paper, one corner crinkled from a drop of coffee. Spencer had left it on your kitchen counter before heading out to work, months ago.

“If I could leave you notes all over the world, I would. But for now, just look outside—it’s raining, and I know that makes you feel calm. I’ll be home before the storm’s over. – S”

You smile, remembering that day. You’d found the note just before noticing the rain falling in gentle streams outside your window, and you’d waited with a blanket by the window, watching the clouds until he came back, just like he’d promised. He always knew how to turn your little quirks into anchors.

Setting that note aside, you reach for another. This one’s written on the back of a receipt from the bookshop downtown. It’s short and scrawled in his neat handwriting.

“You pick up this book as if it’s a friend you haven’t seen in years. It’s beautiful to watch. Don’t forget to mark your place in the story—I want to hear what you think. – S”

You laugh to yourself, remembering how he’d tucked it into the back of the book after you bought it. He hadn’t let you see it until you found it yourself one night, and the memory of the way he’d watched you read that note makes your heart ache just a little more.

You lie back against the pillows, shifting so you’re curled around his side of the bed. It’s silly, maybe, reading these notes over and over. But as you go through them, each one reminds you how much he loves you, how he notices things about you that you hadn’t even noticed about yourself. His love is a quiet kind, a series of small gestures and words, but somehow, it feels bigger than anything else you’ve known.

Another note catches your eye. This one’s on a tiny sticky note, a bright yellow square you’d found on your mirror one morning.

“You make coffee exactly how I like it, even when you don’t drink it. I don’t think anyone’s ever done that for me before. I’m lucky. – S”

You can still remember the warmth of his hand over yours when he found you reading it, how he hadn’t needed to say anything else.

The letters become a timeline of your relationship, a way to measure time not by dates but by memories, by little notes that remind you of the person you are when you’re with him. Each one has a tiny piece of his heart tucked into it, a small reminder that he’s with you even when he’s halfway across the country.

You read through a few more, feeling your eyes grow heavy but not wanting to close them. There’s something grounding about seeing his words, knowing that he took the time to write these little messages just for you. In a way, it makes the ache of missing him almost bearable, makes you feel connected to him in a way that’s both heartbreaking and comforting.

You’ve just set down the last one, a note he left in the middle of a crossword puzzle—“How do you always know the words I can’t think of? I love you.”—when your phone buzzes on the nightstand.

It’s him.

You answer on the first ring, not even caring if he’ll be able to hear the lingering sleepiness in your voice. “Spencer?” you say, unable to help the warmth in your tone.

“Did I wake you?” His voice is soft, low, and there’s a hint of worry in it.

“Not really. I couldn’t sleep,” you reply. There’s a beat of silence before you add, “I was reading some of your notes.”

The smile in his voice is unmistakable. “You kept those?”

“All of them.” You can practically feel his surprise through the line. “It helps. You know, with you being away.”

He hums softly, a sound you know means he’s thinking. “Do you have a favourite?”

There’s a hundred favourites, but you know the answer without hesitating. “The one on the mirror, about the coffee. I don’t think anyone’s ever noticed something like that before.”

The line goes quiet for a moment, but you know he’s smiling. “I think about those little things a lot,” he admits. “I keep thinking about how much I miss you. I know I’ll be back in a few days, but it doesn’t stop me from wishing it was sooner.”

Your heart tightens, and you can’t help but imagine him sitting in some unfamiliar hotel room, thinking of you just as much as you’re thinking of him. “I miss you, too,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

There’s another pause, the comforting kind, where neither of you needs to say anything. It’s enough just to be together, even like this.

“Do you want to hear about the case?” he asks gently, as if he’s afraid you’ll say no. You do, because it’s part of him, and you always want to know. So he tells you, his voice a familiar comfort in the dark, weaving through the details with that measured precision he’s so good at. You listen, nodding at the right places, even though he can’t see you, letting his words settle over you like a lullaby.

When he’s finished, there’s a soft exhale on the other end of the line. “Do you have any notes for me?” he asks, the hint of a tease in his voice.

“I could think of a few,” you say with a smile, glancing down at the scattered pages on your bed. “Maybe a sticky note on your phone: ‘Call your girlfriend as soon as the plane lands.’”

You can hear his smile widen. “I think I can manage that.” His voice softens, the words almost like a whisper. “I’ll keep leaving them, you know. Notes, I mean. Just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“In case you ever need a reminder. That I love you. That I notice the little things. That I’ll be there, even if it takes a while.”

You’re quiet, just for a moment, because the words stick in your throat. He always knows how to get to the heart of things, how to make you feel so understood. “I don’t need a reminder for that,” you say. “But I’ll still read them every time I miss you.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’ve written so many,” he murmurs, the warmth in his voice unmistakable. “Get some sleep, okay? I’ll be home before you know it.”

You nod, letting your eyes close. “I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you, too,” he replies, his voice like a gentle embrace over the line. “Sleep well.”

The call ends, but you hold the phone to your chest, listening to the quiet in your room. For the first time in days, it doesn’t feel lonely. Spencer may be miles away, but his words are here, resting against your heart, waiting for you in every corner of every room.

[starlightkun]

❥・word count: 17.2k ❥・warnings: cursing, suggestive but no smut (i think that tag is on all my sungchan fics at this point), also i do talk about biting him probably too much, there’s one scene where i have to refer to distance and i use miles im sorry it’s the filthy american in me (convert to km if you must but it’s really not that important) ❥・genre: meet-ugly (like a meet-cute but bad), strangers to lovers, fluff and more fluff good god, forced proximity trope (long car trip, friend group vacation in a cabin, etc.) ❥・author’s note: send help the sungchan brainrot is terminal

“I just don’t trust people that are that hot—Sorry.”

“Are you going to the cabin next week?” Karina asked you, refilling her drink as the two of you chatted in the kitchen of Donghyuck and Mark’s place. The former was throwing a “small get-together” tonight for his birthday, which was already shaping up to be more like the parties you’d attended in undergrad. He’d also invited a hopefully actually small number of your closer friends to spend two weeks in his family’s cabin starting the following Friday.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you nodded, opening the fridge to nose around in there for something to mix with your alcohol.

“Do you know who all he invited?”

“I think the usual, right?” You had secured some cranberry juice and seltzer, and brought them back out triumphantly. “Didn’t he text the details to everyone in a group chat? Check who’s in it.”

“Let me see…” She muttered, scrolling through her phone. “You, me, Hyuck, Mark, Ning, Jeno, Jaemin, Shotaro, Anton…”

“Unless it’s a mansion in the woods, it sounds like half of us will be sleeping on the floor,” you scoffed.

“There’s one person in here that I don’t have saved.” She frowned. “Do you?”

You looked at it on your own phone. “There’s two people I don’t have saved. One of them must be Anton, I just met him the other day when Taro brought him around to… whatever, I don’t even remember now.”

“I don’t have the 512 number.”

You saved the other unknown number as Anton. “I don’t have the 512 number either.”

Karina giggled. “Mysterious.”

“Probably another guy Hyuck and Mark met playing pickup.” You shrugged, following her back out to the living room. “I feel like that’s how they meet all their new friends these days.”

“Rina! Y/N!” Ningning suddenly appeared in front of the two of you, grabbing your other friend’s wrist. “Come dance with me!”

Karina looked over at you. “Y/N?”

“Just topped up.” You lifted your drink. “Maybe later. Have fun, guys.”

As they disappeared into the middle of the room, you drifted off to the side, finding a wall to lean against. You took slow sips of your drink, eyes passing over the crowd. You didn’t mind standing by yourself until either your friends were done dancing and found you again, or you spotted someone you’d rather talk to before then.

“Y/N!” Your voice was called from behind you, and you turned around to greet the birthday boy with a wide smile.

“Hyuck!” You went to hug him. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all night!”

“Because you’ve been hiding in the kitchen,” he teased. “I think this is the first time I’ve actually seen you out here.”

You rolled your eyes as you drew back from the hug. “Whatever, I’m here now. Are you having a good birthday?”

“Great!” He beamed. It was then that you noticed he had someone with him, a tall guy hovering awkwardly behind him. Donghyuck went to introduce him, “This is Sungchan, by the way. He also lives in the complex; Mark and I met him playing pickup.”

Of course.

“Sungchan, this is my friend Y/N,” Hyuck then gestured to you.

You nodded to him politely. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he smiled back, a bright, heart-stopping smile. You held onto your drink a little tighter, with both hands.

“Hey! Renjun!” Donghyuck suddenly yelled out. “No killing people on the premises! Choke Jisung outside!”

He took off into the crowd, leaving you with his new friend.

“Anyway, it was nice to meet you, Jungchan, but I’ve got to find my friends.” You slipped away before he could say anything else.

Karina and Ningning were still dancing, and while you briefly debated joining them, you decided against it, heading back to your safe haven instead: the kitchen. It was blissfully empty when you got in there, and you started picking at the bowls of snacks mindlessly.

“That was incredible.” Someone snickered, startling you into dropping a chip onto the floor.

You picked it up, glowering at the newcomer as you went to go throw away the ruined chip into the garbage can. “What are you talking about, Anton?”

“His name is Sungchan, by the way.” He was still laughing, hopping up onto the counter by the bowls of snacks. “Not Jungchan. I happened to have been lucky enough to have overheard that.”

“Oops.” You said flatly, well aware that you didn’t sound very sorry.

“But I’m totally going to use that.”

“You know him from pickup basketball too, I presume?”

“Yup.” He tossed a cheeseball up and caught it in his mouth. “He’s not very good at shooting, but he’s tall, so he’s alright at guarding.”

“Good for him. Or not, I don’t know.”

“So let’s say, hypothetically, I was eavesdropping on the entire conversation—”

“Hypothetically.”

“Of course.” He grinned. “He said like two words to you, and they were barely even hello. Why did you run away like that?”

You sighed, topping off your drink again. After taking a sip, musing over how best to phrase it, you finally decided on, “I just don’t trust people that are that hot—Sorry.”

Anton cocked his head curiously at you. “Who hurt you?”

“Nobody, god.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re so fucking dramatic and for what?”

“Fun and profit, mostly.”

“You hurt Sungchan’s feelings,” Donghyuck declared, blotting out the sun above you.

You closed your book on your thumb to deal with this. You had been reclining on a chair at your apartment complex’s pool reading in peace when your friend appeared out of nowhere. Outside the pool fence you could see his roommate, and two more of your mutual friends, Jaemin and Jeno. Jeno had a basketball under his arm, which made sense, the courts were right next to the pool, they were probably already heading there when they saw you and decided to detour over here to… interrogate you? Harass you?

“Who? What? When?” You squinted up at Donghyuck in confusion.

“My friend. Last night.”

“The tall one? How? Because I didn’t want to talk about the weather or whatever with him?”

“Apologize,” he demanded, crossing his arms. “And get his name right this time. It’s Sungchan. Not Jungchan.”

You scoffed, sitting up straighter in your chair. “This is exactly what I was telling Anton last night, you know. I don’t trust people that are that hot because even if they don’t do anything to abuse their hotness directly, or on purpose, other people will just do things for them anyway.”

“He’s the nicest person I know. Hotness be damned. Apologize.”

“No.”

“Really? This is the moral hill that you’re willing to die on?”

“Yup.”

“You’re a true martyr, Y/N,” Hyuck said sarcastically. “The Second Coming herself.”

“The nicest person you know? Really?” You questioned doubtfully.

“Really. And you were mean to him,” Donghyuck confirmed.

“Including Shotaro?”

“Including Taro.”

“Mark?”

“Mark’s my best friend. Doesn’t mean he’s the nicest person I know,” he retorted.

“Jeno?”

“Literally saw him steal candy from a baby yesterday.”

You blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

“Jisung. Same thing.”

“I’m not apologizing to your friend,” you declared, opening your book again.

“This is the stupidest line you’ve drawn in the sand yet.”

“I’m not going out and bullying him! All I said was that I don’t trust hot people!”

“Flaw in your logic: You’re friends with me,” he pointed out smugly.

“Think on that one again, Hyuck,” you replied snidely, looking down at your book as if you were trying to get back to reading.

“Rude.” He looked back at the other three guys waiting for him, apparently getting an idea. “What about Jeno? He’s like, ridiculously good-looking.”

“I like him just fine. I just don’t trust him, or what people will do for him because he’s stupidly attractive,” you argued.

“It sounds exhausting to be you,” he huffed, turning on his heel and leaving the pool deck.

Later that afternoon, you pulled yourself up out of the pool, heading back towards your chair. Grabbing your towel, you wrapped it around yourself to start drying off before heading back to your apartment. You saw someone walking towards you out of the corner of your eye as you were digging through your bag for your phone.

“Hi.” It was Donghyuck’s tall friend from last night, in workout gear rather than swim trunks. Obviously not here to use the pool.

“Hi.” You wiped a drop of water off your phone screen that had fallen from your nose onto it.

“Do you have a second?”

“Sure.”

He scratched the back of his neck as he focused an apologetic smile on you. “Did I do something or say something? At Donghyuck’s place? Because I’m really—”

“No.”

“—sorry if I did—Wait what?” The smile dropped from his face.

“You didn’t do anything or say anything. You were perfectly nice,” you answered honestly.

“Then it really was what you told Anton?” He asked in disbelief.

Of course, Anton must have told him what you said.

“Look, Sungchan, I’m sorry, I just don’t trust really attractive guys right off the bat.”

“I haven’t done anything to earn your distrust other than—”

“—other than being hot, yeah.” You shrugged. “Even if you really are nice, intentionally or not, people treat you differently just by virtue of you being stupidly hot. Gets in your head, whether you think it has or not.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Not at all.”

“How are you any different then?”

“Different than who?”

“You say that people treat me differently because I’m, in your words, ‘stupidly hot.’” He put the phrase air quotes. “That’s exactly what you’re doing right now.”

“How am I treating you different by not immediately falling at your feet? I don’t do that for average looking guys either.”

“That’s not what I’m asking you to do.”

“Was I rude to you last night? Bitchy? Outright mean or nasty?” You ticked the adjectives off on your fingers. “No, the most you can accuse me of was being a bit curt. And getting your name wrong, that really was my bad.”

He was quiet for a moment, and you took the opportunity to slip your sandals back on and shoulder your tote bag.

“Look, you’re not entitled to my time, attention, or to me,” you told him firmly.

“I didn’t say I was,” he said immediately, his brow furrowing.

“You’ve taken it as a personal affront that I didn’t want to idly chitchat with you last night.”

“I’m just… confused,” Sungchan sighed.

“You’re nice to look at, I’m sure you’re not a complete dud to talk to, it’s probably not torture to make small talk with you at a party. So people do,” you tried to walk him through it. “But it’s not mean for someone to not want to talk to you.”

He was silent again, that same pensive, troubled look on his face, and you found yourself in better spirits than you had been last night.

“This was fun. I would say we should do it again, but I’m afraid I would make you cry and then Hyuck would be really mad at me.” You chuckled, grabbing your keys from your bag. “So, goodbye, Sungchan.”

You were relaxed on your couch that night with a tub of ice cream when a violent banging came at your front door. Pausing the movie you were watching, you rushed to answer it, thinking that it must be the police, or some other kind of emergency. Instead, it was Donghyuck and Mark. You looked at Donghyuck incredulously, the one who had been doing the knocking.

“What is your fucking problem?” He said in lieu of a greeting, throwing his hands up in the air in disbelief.

“What did I do now? Allegedly?” You matched his tone, watching as he started pacing your entryway.

“You know what you did.” Mark was calmer, reminding you of a disappointed parent as he looked at you, his hands on his hips.

“You broke him!” Donghyuck declared.

“Who—Oh, Sungchan?” You finally connected the dots.

“Who else’s soul have you ripped out of their chest and stomped on today?”

“He sought me out,” you defended yourself, crossing your arms.

“And you couldn’t have been a human being and talked to him?”

“We talked. From what you’re saying, it sounds like he didn’t like what I had to say.”

“He’s catatonic!”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Only slightly. But he’s not well.”

You scoffed, “If one conversation with me is enough to make him spiral, sounds like he had some other stuff going on before I opened my mouth.”

“So you refuse to take responsibility? For any of this?” Donghyuck regarded you wide, crazed eyes, looking like he was at the end of his rope.

“You’re asking me to what? Fix him?” You snorted in disbelief. “I don’t Mommy grown men, sorry.”

“You are infuriating.” He pointed at you accusatorily. “The party I could’ve let slide—”

“No you couldn’t have, you found me literally the next day demanding that I apologize for not wanting to talk to him,” you spat back.

“Not for that! I’m not going to hold a gun to your head and force you to make small talk with him,” he groaned. “I meant the stuff you were telling Anton, in the kitchen. He heard you.”

“All I said was that I don’t trust people that are that hot. Nothing to have a goddamn mental breakdown over!”

“And he wouldn’t have, if you had just, I don’t know, apologized for the misunderstanding and moved on! But no, you have to take everything to this moral extreme! Honestly, I’m finding it hard to remember what’s even likeable about you in the first place right now,” Donghyuck ranted, running his hands through his hair.

“Hyuck, that was a bit far,” Mark finally spoke up again, stepping forward.

“You really want to die on this hill, Y/N?” Donghyuck just went around his roommate, looking you in the eye. “Then fine. Don’t bother coming on the trip.”

“Hyuck, man, come on—” Mark called after him, but Donghyuck had already stormed out of your apartment.

You watched the empty doorway after him, chest heaving as all the words you’d exchanged finally caught up to you. Looking to your friend that you had been left with, you asked quietly, “Do you think I'm in the wrong, Mark?”

He tilted his head back and forth regretfully. “I think… you’re being a bit abrasive.”

“You agree with Hyuck,” you deadpanned.

“Not entirely. I don’t think he should’ve been throwing Sungchan at you so hard. He should’ve known you weren’t going to take it well, which is probably why he did it in such a weird way.”

“What?”

“He was trying to set you up with Sungchan. But knowing how… you… are, he thought he had to do it with some uh, ‘finesse.’” Mark shrugged one shoulder. “Sungchan wasn’t all that hurt after the party, really. A bit bummed that you brushed him off, sure, but he would’ve bounced back. He’s hard to knock down, literally and metaphorically. Hyuck demanded that you go ‘apologize’ to him so that you’d talk to him again. Same thing with Sungchan talking to you at the pool today, Hyuck told him to.”

“Does Sungchan know that Hyuck’s been trying to set us up this whole time?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“So to him, this has been Hyuck setting him up with, apparently, the biggest bitch he knows,” you winced. No wonder he was so confused earlier.

“I mean…” Mark trailed off sheepishly. “He should’ve told you.”

“And I should’ve been fucking normal,” you groaned, rubbing your face.

“An argument can be made for that, yes.”

“What apartment is Sungchan in?”

According to Mark, Sungchan went on a jog every morning at 8:00, and was usually back by 10:00, so you made sure to knock on his front door at 10:15, just in case.

Sungchan opened the door, wiping sweat from his face with a towel as he spoke, “Anton, I thought we agreed on eleven…”

He trailed off when he opened his eyes and saw who was actually on his doorstep.

“Hi, Sungchan,” you greeted him.

“Oh. Hi, Y/N.” He dropped his hand from his face. In the background, you could hear music playing, and smell food being cooked.

“Uhm, are you busy? I can leave, sorry—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He stepped back, opening the door wider and gesturing you in. You stepped into his apartment with a polite, grateful nod. It looked like he had been in the middle of making breakfast, a blender out on his counter, various fruits on a cutting board, and ingredients sizzling in a pan. He went to pause the music on his phone, and stirred the food that was in the pan. He pointed to one of the stools that was at the bar attached to the kitchen counter. “Do you want to sit?”

“No, thanks,” you shook your head. Shouldn’t take that long. “I just wanted to apologize. I was abrasive, and shouldn’t have been using you to try to draw some moral line in the sand as part of an argument with my friend.”

Sungchan nodded. “Thanks. You did have a point, about the party. I wasn’t used to people not wanting to talk to me, it was a weird experience. But you’re right, I wasn’t entitled to your time.” He went back to the cutting board, chopping up a banana and depositing it into the blender. “Besides, I’m sure you have guys come up to you all the time and you just want to be left alone. No worries.”

You tilted your head curiously. “Why do you say that?”

“People treat you different when you’re stupidly hot, right?” He shrugged, scooping some blueberries into the blender next.

“I wasn’t talking about myself…”

Sungchan just grinned and shrugged again. “So I guess I’ll see you at Hyuck’s family cabin then?”

“No. I was uninvited,” you informed him quietly.

“What? Why?”

“Because of how… poorly I handled this.”

Sungchan’s eyes widened with horror. “What? That’s crazy. I didn’t ask him—”

“Don’t worry, I totally get why he did it. His choice was between the nicest guy he knows—” you pointed to Sungchan, “—and the biggest bitch he knows—” you then pointed to yourself, “—who is a compulsive vibe-harsher. I’d pick you too.”

“Don’t tell me he called you—”

“My words,” you assured him.

“I’ll talk to him. No way you should be uninvited over a misunderstanding like this.” He flashed you an easy-going smile. “I mean, we’ve already worked it out. No hard feelings, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, offering a small smile back. “But really, Sungchan, you don’t have to. He’ll think I just apologized to you to get invited back on the trip.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Then there we go,” he said as if it were already decided. “I’ll talk to him.”

[hyuck: you’re un-uninvited]

[hyuck: sungchan will pick you up at 2:00 on friday]

[you: why is he picking me up???]

[hyuck: you’re the only two who need to leave late on friday. the rest of us are heading up in the morning]

[you: i have my own car??]

[hyuck: you’ve got a shitty sedan with 200,000 miles on it that can barely make it over a speed bump. you’re not making it up a mountain]

[hyuck: consider this your exposure therapy]

Sure enough, Friday at 2:00 p.m., there was a knock at your front door, Sungchan on the other side.

“Hey,” you greeted him, stepping back to grab your small rolling suitcase. “You really didn’t have to come get me, I could’ve met you down at your car.”

“I don’t mind. You need any help with your bags?” He offered, watching you also shoulder a duffel bag as you tried to wedge your memory foam pillow under your other arm.

“Where’s your stuff?” You questioned, noticing his empty hands.

“I already packed it in the car.” He reached for your suitcase, and you willingly let him take it. He held another hand out, and you gave him your duffel bag as well. Without even asking, he picked up the tote that was at your feet, too, leaving you with just your pillow and phone. “You got everything?”

You looked around your apartment, thinking hard. “Mmm… I’m pretty sure.”

“Phone, wallet, keys, charger?”

“Check.”

“Pajamas, toothbrush, toothpaste, other toiletries?”

“Check.”

“Let’s do it,” he grinned, leading the way to the front door.

[sungchan: picked y/n up! gonna get some gas on our way out of town if anybody has last minute snack requests. eta 5:00 pm!]

[jeno: 👍]

As some of the others’ snack orders came pouring in, you got one text separately.

[hyuck: be. nice.]

After filling up and triple-checking to make sure you had bought everyone’s food, you and Sungchan were back in his car, a modest-size SUV. He plugged his phone in to charge, then handed it to you.

“Here, you navigate.” The directions to the cabin were already pulled up and started.

“Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You tried to give it back. “I yap and nap.”

“It’s like five turns total for three hours.” He refused to take it back, starting the car and peeling off. “You can be passenger princess all you want. I even know the first two to get onto the highway on my own. Just need the exit number, the road name, and the house number.”

“Oh god, okay…” You sank down into the passenger seat, clutching his phone with two hands.

“Are you really that nice?” You asked once you had been on the highway for a while. Sungchan and you had been taking turns on aux—right now he had something playing—and there was a comfortable lull in conversation, but you couldn’t help the question that had been nagging at the back of your mind the entire time.

“There is no way for me to answer that and not sound like a dick,” he pointed out. “Either I say no, despite knowing that our mutual friends have apparently hyped up how nice I am to you, in which case it just looks like I’m acting humble. Dick move. Or I say yes, which would make me look like I’m full of myself. Dick move again.”

You looked over at him, feeling the smirk tug at your lips. “You’re fun.”

“Thanks?”

“So if you don’t think you’re that nice, how would you describe yourself?”

“What is this? Speed dating?” He snorted.

“You want to talk about something else? Pick a better topic yourself,” you retorted. “We’re stuck in here for like two more hours.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he quickly went to smooth the conversation over, his tone turning pleasant again. “I just meant… I don’t know how accurate a self-assessment like that would be. Wouldn’t you be biased about yourself? Positive or negative?”

“That’s the fun of it. Even if a person doesn’t describe themselves accurately, understanding how they see themselves can help you understand them a lot better.”

“How would you describe yourself then?”

“I asked you first.” You pointed out. It felt like it had been a long time since you checked the navigation, so you clicked Sungchan’s phone back on to see how much longer you had to go until your exit.

“Fine.” He hummed as he thought. “I like to think I’m… dependable. And a good friend. And patient—”

“That was our exit,” you said abruptly, staring at the constantly refreshing rerouting screen in front of you.

“What?”

“Well, fifty miles ago was our exit…” You winced, watching ‘288’ pass you by. Yours had been 238, apparently. You should’ve known that.

“We missed our exit?” Sungchan clarified.

“Fifty miles back, yeah.”

“And you just decided to tell me?”

“I just noticed! I thought it was 288!” You tried to defend yourself. “I told you not to make me navigate!”

He held a hand out towards you. “Give me the phone.”

“It’s rerouting, I’ll pay attention—”

“Y/N, give me the fucking phone.” His tone was low, with no room for arguing.

You meekly set it in his hand, dropping both your hands in your lap after. He cursed under his breath as he jerked the wheel over, cutting across three lanes of traffic—no turn signal—to narrowly make the next exit. Car horns followed his maneuver, but he ignored them.

“I’m sorry…” You muttered, unable to take the suffocating silence anymore. It was either apologize or tuck and roll, which was honestly still an option at this point.

“Text everyone, let them know we’ll be late,” Sungchan demanded, knuckles red and white around the wheel.

“Okay.” You scrambled to pull out your own phone. “What time should I tell them?”

“Eight.”

You gaped. “Three hours?!”

“Yes, Y/N, we’re on the other side of the fucking mountain now!” He finally snapped and raised his voice, and your eyes went wide. “We can’t just drive through it to get there!”

You took a deep breath, holding his eye contact for a tense, strangling moment before you looked down at your phone to draft your text.

[you: hey guys! uhm, due to an unfortunate series of events, sungchan and i will be a bit late! new eta 8pm]

[anton: did y’all crash or smth wtf]

Again, a separate text from Donghyuck.

[hyuck: i said be nice not fuck him nasty in the backseat for three hours what is wrong with you]

[you: shut UP]

Back in your vacation group chat, you figured you owed everyone an explanation that alleviated Sungchan of any blame.

[you: completely my fault! i’m apparently the worst navigator ever and we missed our exit :/ ]

[rina: damn y/n maintaining the stereotype that women are bad drivers even when backseat driving]

[ningning: the patriarchy thanks u for ur service queen 🫡]

[jeno: i hate when you guys start joking like this, wtf are we supposed to say without looking like assholes]

[hyuck: pour one out for y/n, it must be so hard holding open the gender pay gap like the doors of a subway car all by herself too]

[mark: bro 😭😭😭]

[you: i wish all of you a very fall down the mountain and die <3]

And one more private text from Donghyuck.

[hyuck: okay that’s how i know you didn’t get dicked down]

[hyuck: damn, you really are bad at reading directions huh]

[you: IM BLOCKING YOU]

Sungchan cleared his throat, and you slowly lowered your phone to look over at him again. He smoothly took a curve on the backroad that you were now on, one lane in each direction, that cut between the mountains with trees jutting up on either side of you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Sungchan breathed out, readjusting in his seat. “For yelling at you just now. That’s not… like me.”

“Because you’re so nice?” You couldn’t bite your tongue quick enough, still put off from the spat you’d just had.

“I… guess so,” he sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know where that came from, honest. I’m really sorry.”

“I told you I shouldn’t navigate.”

“Yeah, I know that now.”

“I’m really, really sorry for missing the exit. I should’ve been paying attention better,” you shouldered the blame that was yours.

“238 and 288 look almost the same. Easy mistake.”

“That added three hours to our drive,” you sighed, leaning your seat back.

“It’s done, no use pointing fingers at each other anymore,” Sungchan shook his head, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel. “Or yourself.”

“Do you even have enough gas for another three hours? We’re not going to get stuck out here, are we?”

“I’ll stop at the next station I see.”

“How far is the next station?” You mumbled, pulling up your phone to search it up on your own. “Fifty-two miles. How much gas do we have?”

“A hundred miles on the range. See? We’re fine.” Sungchan’s smile dropped off his face right after he said that. “Huh…”

“What?” You sat up as he reached over to put the hazards on and pulled the car off onto the shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“Low tire pressure light,” he frowned. “I checked my tires before I grabbed you from your place. Give me a sec.”

He left the car running as he hopped out, and you watched as he walked around the car, squatting down to inspect each of the tires. Finally, he walked up to your window. You rolled it down to talk to him.

“Back right tire has a nail in it. Slow leak,” he explained. “I’ve got to change it.”

“Aren’t you not supposed to drive spares in certain conditions?” You asked as he reached through the open window to unlock and open the door. “Like on a mountain road or whatever?”

With the door open, he rolled the window back up and reached past you to turn the car off, taking the key out of the ignition. “The road’s paved, it’s not like it’s gravel or anything. I’ll have to drive careful and drive slow on the spare, but it’s either that or we’re stranded out here.”

You eyed the sun that was already descending behind the mountains. “Right. Spare it is.”

“Need you to hold the flashlight if you don’t mind.” He opened the glove box in front of you, rooting around and grabbing a flashlight the length of your forearm.

You accepted it from him. “Got it.”

Sungchan took the tools out of the trunk, as well as the spare tire. He first lifted the car up with the jack, and you became acutely aware of how abandoned the road that you were on really was as not a single other car passed by the entire time. Sungchan stood back up once the car was up to peel off his flannel, tossing it into the trunk with the rest of the tools and the spare waiting to be used.

“Y/N.”

“Huh?” You looked down at where he had gotten back on the ground.

“I need to see the lug nuts, not my arms.”

“Sorry.” You shuffled behind him to be able to point the beam directly on the tire instead of where it had drifted to his mostly bare arms under his t-shirt.

“Much better. Thanks.”

You watched as his hands skillfully unscrewed the lug nuts from the tire with the wrench, holding the first two behind him. “Hold these for me?”

“Oh, sure.” You held your hand out for him to drop them into your palm.

Once you had all five in hand, Sungchan pulled the flat off the car and swapped it out for the spare. You tried not to listen to the darkened forest behind you.

“Lug nuts?” He held his hand up from where he was laying on the ground. You deposited a couple back into his hand for him to screw on at a time.

As he alternated between tightening the nuts and lowering the car down off the jack, you dutifully kept the flashlight pointed on the area he was working on. Finally, the car was back on the ground, and he took the jack out from under it. He rolled the old tire around until he could point out the head of a nail embedded in the tread.

“There’s the little fucker.” Sungchan clicked his tongue before he heaved the tire up into the back. He put away all the tools too, then wiped away beads of sweat that had gathered under his bangs with the hem of his shirt.

He grabbed his flannel, tossing it over his shoulder before he shut the hatch on the trunk. He then turned to you with a bright smile and held his hand up for a high-five. “Alright!”

You high-fived him back mindlessly, pointing the flashlight at your feet now. “I didn’t do anything…”

“What are you talking about? I would’ve been fumbling around in the dark without you.” He nodded his head towards the front of the car. “Come on, we’re going to be late as is. We need to find that gas station. Hopefully they’re open late.”

“Hopefully…”

[you: NEW new eta idfk]

[you: we got a flat and need to fill up again]

[you: we might die out here. if this is my last message, just know that i still wish you all a very fall down the mountain and die <3]

[rina: aw ily2 pookie <33]

[you: sungchan probably says hi or smth]

Hyuck texted you individually again.

[hyuck: oh i know that car smells RANK 🫵🫵🫵]

[you: bitch this tire is as flat as YOUR ASS]

[hyuck: so it’s caked up??? my point is made 😌]

[you: delusion]

“The stars are really pretty out here,” Sungchan’s voice took you away from your phone.

He wasn’t driving as fast as before on account of the spare, making your trip even longer. You looked out the windshield in front of you, at a small patch of sky that you could see peeking out in between the mountains and trees. It was hundreds, if not thousands of stars, infinitely more than you could ever hope to see on a perfectly clear night in the city.

“Wow.” You leaned your arms and head forward on the dash to see it better. “That’s crazy…”

“I bet we’ll see even more once we get to the cabin.”

“If we don’t die out here first,” you half-joked. “How much gas do we have?”

“Sixty miles. And the station should be another ten.���

“Online didn’t have any hours for it…” You muttered. “And this is kind of rural…”

“Which means the owner might live on the property, or they have someone work a night shift for weary travelers just like us.”

“Weary travelers?” You repeated with amusement. “You make it sound like we’re going on some long journey and are seeking lodging at an inn.”

“Some of that’s true.”

“Yeah, yeah. And I won’t knock the weary part either.” You laid back in your seat again, letting out a yawn.

“Take a nap,” Sungchan encouraged you. “We’ll still have a while to drive after refilling, especially since we’re driving slow with the spare.”

“I would, but if the station is open, I gotta pee…” You whispered. “And it’s only like ten miles.”

“Then take a nap after.”

Finally, there was a building in the distance, and miraculously, when Sungchan pulled up to the lone gas pump, the lights inside were even on.

“Sungchan?” You walked around to where he was filling up the car.

“Yeah?” He looked over at you from where he had been watching the numbers on the meter go up.

“Uhm, can you go in with me? Into the store?” You asked almost sheepishly. “I just—”

“Of course.” He agreed with no hesitation, nodding towards the building for you to lead the way. The gas continued pumping on its own as he walked away, and you grabbed his arm as you approached the front door. He didn’t say anything as he opened the door for the two of you.

The attendant behind the counter didn’t even look up from his phone at the two of you as you entered. There was exactly one bathroom at the very back of the small convenience store, and Sungchan walked you back through the cramped aisles of snacks. When you were done, he was waiting just outside the door where you’d left him.

“Good?” He asked quietly, offering you the same arm that you’d taken in the parking lot.

You took it gladly. “Good.”

Sungchan gave the store employee a nod of acknowledgement as the two of you left, and the man once again didn’t even look up at you. Back at the car, the gas had clicked off on its own, and Sungchan replaced the pump. He walked you to the passenger side, opening your door and ushering you in, closing it firmly behind you before getting in on his side and locking it behind him.

“Good?” He asked you again.

“Good,” you confirmed, and he started the car up.

Back on the road, the darkness all around you, steady rumble of the pavement under you, and music Sungchan had playing at a low volume was slowly lulling you back towards sleep again. You let out a rather obvious, violent yawn, not even having enough in you to slap your hand over your mouth all that quick.

“Go to sleep, Y/N,” Sungchan said again.

“But you’ve got to drive more,” you argued. “Who’s going to keep you awake?”

“I’ve got it, promise.” He then chuckled to himself. “You’ve yapped, now it’s time to nap.”

“Mm, alright.” You curled up in your reclined seat as best you could, letting your eyes flutter shut. “Wake me up if you need entertainment to stay awake. Love a good car sing-along…”

Your eyes and limbs still felt heavy and sluggish with sleep when you woke up later that night, and you pulled your blanket tighter to you as you tried to settle back in. You took a deep breath in through your nose, and then immediately remembered that you did not go to sleep with a blanket on you, and that this definitely was not yours that was on you right now. You felt at the material bunched in your hand again and recognized it as an article of clothing of some sort, not a blanket. Slowly opening one eye, you saw that it was a big hoodie, the arms wrapped around your shoulders so it didn’t fall off.

You shifted in your seat again, sitting up a little more as you looked at the hoodie that was draped over you a little closer.

“Hey, are you waking up?” Sungchan asked quietly from beside you.

You looked over at him, squinting. “Mm… mhm.”

“Good, we’re almost there. I’d say ten minutes,” he informed you.

“What… time is it?”

“A little after nine.”

“Ugh…” You dropped your head back against the seat. “Feels like two in the morning.”

“I know what you mean,” he chuckled. “I’m going to be ready to sleep as soon as we get there too.”

“Yeah, but you were like driving and changing tires and stuff. I was... whatever the opposite of a passenger princess is, the whole time. A passenger nuisance.”

“You held the flashlight. That was a very important job.”

“I’m going to pretend like that didn’t feel patronizing and say thanks.”

“We both had a long night, Y/N. Being tired is warranted, for everyone involved.”

“Thanks, Sungchan.”

“You’re welcome.”

“No, not just for that.” You were interrupted by another yawn as you went to put the back of your seat upright again. “For… driving me, and apologizing for snapping at me earlier, and changing the tire, and walking me to the bathroom, and for the hoodie. You’re…”

“Nice?” He seemed to be bracing himself for the word.

“A good guy.”

“Oh.”

You didn’t say anything else, readjusting his hoodie on you as he continued driving. Finally, he pulled off the road into a driveway, and a cabin came into view. All the lights were on, and he stopped behind a few other cars that you recognized: Mark’s, Jaemin’s, and Karina’s.

The two of you had just started taking your stuff out of the trunk when some of your friends met you outside.

“You survived!” Jaemin cheered.

“Barely,” you groaned, reaching for your pillow.

“What happened to your tire, dude?” Mark asked Sungchan.

“Got a nail in it somewhere,” he explained, taking his phone out to shine the flashlight on it. As they looked it over and talked about the car, the others grabbed both yours and Sungchan’s stuff to take into the cabin.

“So, before you guys got a flat, how exactly did you manage to read the map on your phone so wrong you added three hours to the drive?” Jeno questioned you, your duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

“Our exit was 238, I misread it, thought it was 288,” you explained with a sigh. “We ended up on the wrong side of the mountain and had to go back around.”

“Damn, it’s a good thing you were with Sungchan when you did that,” Anton laughed, dragging Sungchan’s suitcase in. “Anybody else probably would’ve lost their shit on you.”

“He did.”

Everyone who was within earshot turned to look at you.

“What?” Anton blinked.

“I mean, he didn’t like, go crazy or anything, but he was angry.”

“We’re talking about the same guy, right? Jung Sungchan, right over there?” Hyuck pointed to where Sungchan and Mark were still chatting by the cars further down the driveway. “He got like, actually mad at you?”

“Uh-huh,” you confirmed. “Raised his voice, yelled, whatever word you want to use. Cursed, too.”

“I’ve never even seen him get like, frustrated…” Shotaro whistled.

Hyuck looked between you and Sungchan in disbelief. “What the hell?”

“He apologized,” you added what felt like a pretty important detail.

“I’m sure he did,” Anton snorted, opening the front door. “I’m kind of surprised he’s not still like, begging for your forgiveness.”

“He apologized for getting upset, I apologized for missing the exit, we moved on.” You shrugged, stepping into the cabin. “And the sky didn’t fall.”

“Yet.” Hyuck scoffed. “Who knows, hell might freeze over before we wake up.”

“Speaking of, where exactly are we all sleeping?”

The next morning, you slipped out of the king size bed that you, Karina, and Ningning were all sharing and treaded down the darkened hallway as quietly as possible. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and you winced when a floorboard creaked underfoot as you passed behind the pull-out couch that Shotaro and Anton had crashed on.

There was already light pouring out of the kitchen when you got there, and a tall figure was standing in front of the stove, a tea kettle on one of the old coil burners. Sungchan was illuminated by the stove light, and turned around when he heard the shuffling of your socks across the tile. It looked like he had already showered and gotten dressed, his hair a little damp as it hung in his eyes, and he was in a fresh t-shirt, shorts, and pair of sneakers.

“You’re up early,” he commented, keeping his voice low to not disturb the others in the next room.

“You too,” you replied just as softly.

The kettle began whistling just then, and he immediately flipped open the spout to stop the noise, taking it off the stove. He opened a nearby cabinet to grab a mug.

“Tea?” He offered. “I’m not a big coffee guy…”

“Sure,” you accepted, and he took a second mug down. “What kind?”

Sungchan went to a different cabinet to get a box of tea sachets. “Green.”

He dropped a tea bag into each mug, then poured the boiling water over them. He handed you your mug before leaning against a spot by the sink.

“Thanks.” You wrapped your hands contentedly around the warm drink.

You lifted your bag up and down by the string, letting it steep as your eyes blinked open and closed, your mind still coming to in the early morning hours. Outside the cabin, you could hear birds singing as the forest woke up too, and you smiled to yourself at the thought.

“So, uh—” Sungchan cleared his throat awkwardly. “What’s the difference between a nice guy and a good guy?”

You opened your eyes, lifting your head to look up at him, slightly amused. You hoped this hadn’t kept him up last night. “A nice guy wouldn’t have yelled at me in the first place.”

“Oh.” He looked a bit ashamed, and also like he might try to apologize again.

“But that also would’ve made no opportunity for you to apologize,” you continued. “A nice guy is just nice. A good guy can admit when he’s wrong, because he actually is wrong sometimes. But he fixes it after.”

“Huh…” Sungchan took another sip of his tea. “Are you a philosophy student or something? Gender studies?”

“No.” You laughed. “Just a compulsive vibe-harsher, like I said.”

“I don’t know how being smart harshes the vibe.”

“I… find it hard to take things at face value. I always have to evaluate them through some lens. It’s tough for me to live in the moment, I guess. Doesn’t always make me the most fun at parties.”

“You can’t be that much of a bummer, they keep inviting you places.” He had finished his tea, and turned around to wash out the mug before setting it aside to dry. “I’ve got to go, I found a place that’ll look at my tire. I called and they’re open on Saturdays.”

“I’ll go with you,” you offered. “If you want some company…”

“It’s on the other side of the mountain,” he informed you. “It’ll be an all-day thing, you should hang out here with everyone. I think Hyuck said they were going to take the boat out.”

“But then you’ll be all alone and bored in the car all day.” You tilted your head. “If you just don’t want me to come, tell me. I’ll be okay.”

“No, Y/N, I’d appreciate the company, but are you sure you want to be stuck in the car with me all day again?”

“Just don’t make me navigate and we’ll be good.”

“Never again,” he smiled. “You’ll be there purely for entertainment.”

“Great, let me get changed.”

“Aw, I thought the jammies were cute,” Sungchan snickered, and for the first time that morning you processed what you were wearing.

A pair of Sanrio character-patterned sleep shorts that were originally from a pajama set (the matching button-up top had long disappeared), well-loved, and a big t-shirt that your dad had gotten from his work when you were high school, worn in with a couple holes in one of the sleeves and another low on the bottom hem—not in any scandalous areas, hence why you hadn’t retired it yet, but definitely not your finest attire.

“Shut up!” You hissed, putting your mug down on the counter to cross your arms over your chest. “I’m changing!”

[sungchan: going to get my tire fixed, y/n’s with me. car shop is on the other side of the mountain so we’ll be back late afternoon-ish]

[jeno: 👍]

“I wasn’t kidding, the pajamas were cute,” Sungchan chuckled as he pulled away from the cabin.

The backroads looked much more welcoming and pleasant in the daytime, all tall, green trees and beautiful mountain landscapes.

“Yeah, sure,” you snorted, taking over the aux first.

“Is my hoodie over there by the way?” He questioned, pointing to the passenger seat floor. “It wasn’t in my stuff yesterday, I thought it might’ve ended up on the floor or something.”

“Oh, sorry, I accidentally took it in with me,” you informed him, remembering when you had finally gotten settled into your room late last night and realized you’d brought the article of clothing in with you in the midst of the hecticness. “I’ll give it back to you when we get back to the cabin after this.”

“Don’t worry about it, just wondering where it went.” He waved you off nonchalantly, eyes focused on the road as he navigated a curve.

But you weren’t going to let him chalant around that so easily. “And what does that mean, Sungchan?”

“I like that hoodie and didn’t want to have lost it on a mountain in the middle of nowhere?”

“So, if I were to give it back to you and start borrowing, oh, I don’t know, Jeno’s hoodie…?”

“That’d be weird, because you have a perfectly good one,” he replied simply.

“Mhm…”

“And clearly, I’m trying to establish my dominance over the other males and stake my unofficial claim over you by having you wear my clothes,” he looked over at you, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You held his eye contact for a moment before you both burst out laughing. “What?!”

“Sorry, I tried my hand at harshing the vibe like you,” his eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Just sounded like a fucking weirdo, huh?”

“A bit, yeah.” You wheezed as you tried to catch your breath. “You also can’t sound that sarcastic when you do it. People have to believe that you believe what you’re saying.”

“I didn’t though. I mean, not completely. I think.”

“Either commit to the bit or don’t.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “But… wouldn’t that have made you feel weird? What I just said?”

“Oh yeah, I don’t buy into all that alpha male social hierarchy bullshit. It’s based off one study on a pack of wolves that’s been debunked multiple times.” You shook your head. “But the second part wasn’t an incorrect analysis of flirting and dating dynamics.”

“Damn, you’re good at that,” he chuckled fondly.

“I didn’t know that Donghyuck was setting us up, by the way,” you felt the need to clarify in that moment. “Not until… right before I apologized?”

“I kind of worked that out eventually,” he sighed. “He should’ve told you, by the way.”

“Yeah, then maybe I would’ve been fucking normal.”

“Probably not.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I mean, it was unfair to you to have been in the dark like that.”

“That’s… generous. Here I thought it was unfair to you to have been subjected to me like that.”

“I was a bit confused as to why Donghyuck told me he had the perfect person for me and then every time I talked to you, you either ran away or seemed to hate me for no good reason,” he admitted.

“I truly wonder what his thought process was…” You mused. “He meets you playing pickup basketball, you turn out to be nicest guy he’s ever met, and his first thought is to introduce you to me? Weird.”

“Why is that weird?” Sungchan tilted his head. “I think you’re cool.”

“I mean, I’m not nice. Or, it’s definitely not one of my defining characteristics. Wouldn’t you want to set up your two nicest single friends with each other?”

“They might get bored of each other,” he muttered.

You looked at him curiously. “Do you think you’re boring, Sungchan?”

He shrugged. “Isn’t that what people say? ‘Oh he’s… a nice guy.’ When they can’t think of anything else about you because you’re boring.”

“I’ve had plenty of fun with you,” you assured him. “Including being stuck in a car with you for six hours and getting a flat tire.”

“I haven’t exactly been my usual self with you…” He confessed quietly.

“Oh?”

“I don’t get upset with people, or tease them like this, or say weird stuff to try to harsh the vibe on purpose.”

You couldn’t help but let out a peal of laughter. “Maybe you are usually pretty boring, then.”

“I think… because you’ve already seen me get mad, and we got past that, I feel like I can try out being things other than nice with you?” He seemed to have been picking his words very carefully. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, Sungchan, it makes sense,” you affirmed. “Are you seriously saying you don’t joke around with the others?”

“I joke around, but I’m not really like… sarcastic, I guess. I don’t want to say something and hurt someone’s feelings either because they didn’t get that it was a joke, or even if they did, because it went too far.”

“That’s fair, but… you have to trust people.”

“Coming from the woman who said she doesn’t trust hot people?” He questioned pointedly.

“Okay, fair,” you chuckled. “But hear me out.”

“Go for it.”

“If your friend said or did something that hurt your feelings, and you didn’t tell them that directly, would you expect them to know?”

He seemed to think about this for a moment, then shook his head. “No, they can’t read my mind. I would need to tell them so we can talk about it.”

“Then why do you have higher standards for yourself as a friend than you have for your friends?”

Sungchan’s mouth dropped open, then closed, then opened again, then closed once more as he frowned deeply, his brows knitting together.

You continued, “You have to trust your friends to tell you when they’re hurt by something you say or do. If you spend your whole life assuming what your friends’ feelings are instead actually letting them tell you, you’re just forcing your own expectations onto them without their input. And it’s also not fair to you to constantly be living your life trying to minimize all these perceived slights against people. Not to mention—sometimes someone’s feelings can get hurt and you didn’t really do anything wrong.”

He laughed nervously. “Not philosophy or gender studies grad student; I think I’m going to skip right over psychology and just go straight for all-knowing deity that can see straight into my soul?”

“Been thinking about updating my LinkedIn to Professional Yapper, but I think I like that better,” you grinned, handing his phone back over to him. “Your turn on the aux.”

“It’s fixable,” the tire shop owner confirmed. “Should take an hour or so. It’s just me and my son and we have a couple customers ahead of you. You and your girlfriend are welcome to wait here, or, you know, it’s lunchtime, there’s a restaurant that’s a five-minute walk down the road.”

He pointed in presumably the general direction of it.

“Right, uhm, here’s my number, in case we’re not here when it’s done.” Sungchan wrote his number down on a notepad on the front desk in the small tire shop.

The older man pulled the paper towards him, flashing the both of you a smile. “If you go to lunch, tell Mrs. Han I sent you.”

“Thank you.” He nodded to the man before you both stepped away from the counter, and the owner walked into the back where the cars were.

You looked up at Sungchan questioningly. “I could do lunch. Are you hungry?”

“Sure,” he agreed. “Beats sitting here for an hour. After sitting in the car for two days straight, I’d like to walk for a bit.”

There was of course no sidewalk, so the two of you had to walk on the shoulder of the road, the odd vehicle zipping by every so often and kicking up your hair. Sungchan kept himself between you and the road, meaning that you were on the grassier part of the shoulder, but you didn’t mind, taking the opportunity to look for wildflowers by your feet.

“Did we really look like a couple?” You asked, stopping to bend over and pick a yellow wildflower, then continued your walk.

“We were a man and woman alone in the middle of nowhere with car trouble,” Sungchan pointed out. “I don’t think the first assumption would be that we met a week ago.”

“Hm, fair.”

“He probably sees a lot of couples coming out here for romantic getaways breaking down or getting flats or whatever.”

“Sounds like the beginning of a horror movie…” You picked a stalk of small white flowers. “Or the first five minutes of a crime procedural.”

Sungchan grabbed a purple flower and held it out to you. “Truly a miracle that we survived.”

“Are you a mechanic or something?”

“Why? Because I know how to change a tire?”

You shrugged. “It’s a guess. You guessed that I was a philosophy student because I like to yap.”

“Not a mechanic.”

“You going to make me keep guessing?”

“I’ve guessed what you do three times now and you’ve yet to tell me.” He elbowed you. “I think you can handle a little more suspense about me.”

You swatted his arm away. “I don’t know if all-knowing deity should really count…”

“I was being so serious, hand on my heart.” He laid his hand over his chest dramatically.

“Well, I know it’s not pro basketball player,” you hummed teasingly. “Anton says you suck.”

“My three-pointer could use some work…”

“Pretty much our whole complex is grad students or young professionals... Are you in school?”

“You haven’t given me any hints.”

“You haven’t asked for any.”

He watched you step a little further from the road to get a pink flower from a patch before rejoining him. “I’ll answer if you answer.”

“A bargain?” You grinned, taking your gaze off the blue flowers that you had been eyeing up ahead of you and turning it up to Sungchan next to you. “I’ll take it. You first.”

“I’m a student. Your turn.”

“Both,” you answered. “I take night classes.”

“I have to guess two things for you?”

“What do we win if we guess right, anyway?” You asked.

“Y/N...” Sungchan stared you down at you avoiding his question.

“Fine, if you can guess one, I’ll tell you the other,” you acquiesced. “So what’s the prize?”

“Winning isn’t enough?” He questioned.

“You’re the one who turned it into a game.”

“Pretty sure you’re the one who did that, but okay,” he teased back. “I don’t know, what do you think it should it be? You suggested a prize.”

You hummed, stepping away from the road to reach for a bright blue flower, having to lean over to one side as the ground sloped down steeply in this area. A few pieces of gravel under your feet tumbled downhill, and Sungchan grabbed your forearm that was close to him to balance you as you picked the flower. Still hunched over, using your new stability with his hold on you to stretch your arm even further out towards a pretty orange one, you suggested, “Winner picks our first date when we get back home?”

“Date?” He echoed, his grip slipping on you for a moment.

You yelped as you nearly lost your balance, and Sungchan barely caught you from tumbling down the hillside, jerking you back towards him. You landed on your ass at his feet, huffing as you looked up at him.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, moving to offer you a hand up.

You took it, standing back up and brushing yourself off. Picking the orange wildflower first, you then threatened, “If you push me down this mountain for real, I’m taking you with me.”

“Yeah, that’s deserved,” he chuckled. “I was just, uhm, surprised.”

“Donghyuck tried to set us up—failed stupendously, which I mean, it’s Hyuck, what’s new?—but we’ve been flirting, I have your hoodie, unless something goes terribly wrong in the next two weeks, that would be the next step, right?” You pointed out. “I wasn’t planning on overanalyzing this but…”

Sungchan let out a round of giggles, his whole face scrunching up as he laughed. “Oh… you don’t know how relieved I am right now to hear you overanalyze that for me.”

“What…?”

“No offense, but it’s a bit hard to tell when you’re analyzing and when you’re flirting,” he admitted, still looking at you with a wide, fond grin. “I mean, this all literally started with you calling me stupidly hot and that somehow being a bad thing.”

You pursed your lips ruefully. “I can see how that might’ve been confusing…”

“No, it’s great,” he chuckled. “You’re great.”

Finally sitting in a booth in the small roadside restaurant, which only had a handful of other customers, the two of you had put in your orders with Mrs. Han and were sipping on your drinks as you went back to your guessing game from the walk.

“We have to guess before we get back to the cabin,” you determined, folding your hands in front of you. “Other people there know us. They might say something.”

Sungchan nodded from across the table. “Good point. Time limit, I like it.”

“Business major. MBA,” you started immediately.

“What? No,” he snorted incredulously.

“It’s basically Undeclared for people who don’t want to disappoint their parents, I had to guess it, sorry.”

“Literature, writing, MFA, something in there?”

“No, and that was like two guesses, so I get two this time.” You clicked your tongue. “Master’s in education, focus in coaching pedagogy.”

“That was one?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Okay, my second: International Relations.”

“No.” He cracked his knuckles. “I’m switching gears, because you seem to know a lot of degrees off the top of your head. You work in the Registrar’s Office?”

“No.”

“Damn! Wait, no, you’re an academic advisor?”

“Nope.”

“Graduate advisor.”

“No, and that was three in a row, Sungchan,” you pointed out humorously.

“I know. Alright, your three?”

“Can I ask a question to narrow it down instead?”

He squinted suspiciously. “What kind of question?”

“To help me narrow the field down. I won’t ask you to tell me the field, they’ll still be yes or no questions.”

“Yes, only if I can ask you the same.”

“It’d only be fair,” you confirmed. “STEM?”

“No.”

“Oh thank God,” you let out a groan of relief.

He laughed. “What’s wrong with people in STEM fields?”

“Listen, love a woman in STEM,” you defended yourself. “Men in STEM… they’re… how do I put this nicely? Insufferable know-it-alls?”

“That’s putting it nicely?”

“Yup.” You took a sip of your drink. “Don’t tell me it’s Finance either…”

“No.”

“Okay, I have one more…” You tapped your finger to your chin. “Is it a Fine Art?”

“No.” Sungchan looked down at the small bunch of flowers that you had set aside on the table. “What are you going to do with those?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Look at them for a while. Take pretty pictures for my Instagram. Toss them eventually, I guess. They’re not gonna live forever.”

Selecting one of the little pink flowers, you reached across the table to tuck it behind Sungchan’s ear. “There.”

He touched the flower, a similar shade of pink dusting his cheeks. “Thanks.”

“Your turn to guess.”

“STEM?”

“Math is my worst enemy, numbers were invented to harm me personally,” you retorted. “No.”

“I should’ve known,” he teased.

Mrs. Han brought your food out then, and you both thanked her before she bustled off to take care of a family that had just walked in. There was a pause in your conversation as you started eating. The food was delicious, and as you took another sip to wash it down, you looked out the window next to your table.

“The view is just crazy here,” you gushed, taking in the mountainside dotted with more colorful patches of wildflowers. You patted your pocket for your phone, then frowned when you couldn’t find it. “Where’s my—”

Wordlessly, Sungchan picked it up from the tabletop and held it out to you. You smiled at him. “Oh, thanks! Didn’t even see it.”

After taking a few pictures, you set your phone back down and returned to your guessing game. “Law?”

He shook his head, still chewing, and wiped his face before speaking with a clear mouth. “Nope. Are your job and what you’re studying related at all?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. I don’t think that actually helped me at all.”

“Education?”

“Mm, yes to the field, but I will make you narrow it down further,” Sungchan acquiesced.

You beamed at having finally gotten closer. “So I was on the right track with my second guess!”

“Are you doing a Fine Art?”

“No. Master’s in Early Childhood Education?”

He let out a soft chuckle as he sat back in the booth, holding his hands up in surrender. “You win.”

“Yes!” You cheered quietly, pumping a fist victoriously at eye level. “I was going to start at Early Childhood and keep going up in age bracket until I got a yes.”

“So?” He prompted you. “What do you do?”

“Right now, I’m a primary school teacher and I tutor on the side for some extra cash.” You watched his eyes grow wide as you revealed this. “And I’m taking a mix of night classes and online classes to get my degree in Educational Leadership and Policy Studies.”

“And that’s a…?”

“Doctorate.”

“Wow…” He breathed out. “Donghyuck really didn’t tell me anything about you before dragging me over to you at his party but uh—”

“Maybe he figured he’s got one friend who is a teacher and one who wants to be a teacher, might as well?” You suggested with humor in your tone, reaching for your glass.

“Yeah, maybe,” he laughed, his eyes sparkling as he kept looking at you.

When you and Sungchan finally got back to the cabin, you found it entirely devoid of your other friends.

“No welcoming party this time?” You scoffed, gesturing to the empty living room. “Now I’m thinking we should just keep the free fudge Mrs. Han gave us all to ourselves.”

“Hyuck did say they were going to take the boat out,” Sungchan reminded you, placing the bag containing said free fudge onto the kitchen counter. “And there’s no way the two of us could eat all that by ourselves before they got back.”

You made a small ‘hmph’ sound, moving to the large sliding glass door in the living room that afforded a view of the lake. The sun glistened off the water, and from here you couldn’t even see the next closest neighbor.

“Do you want to go down to the dock?” Sungchan suggested, joining you by the door. “They took the boat, but that doesn’t mean we’re stuck inside.”

“So,” Sungchan followed you down the pathway from the back porch down to the dock. “Once you have your degree, do you still want to be a teacher?”

“Yeah, my kids are why I’m getting it in the first place,” you explained, carefully picking your way down the steep decline. “I want to be able to advocate on behalf of them better, and understand what’s going on when the people who aren’t teachers are making decisions that affect us.”

“What year do you teach?”

“I provide supplemental curricula for all ages. Reading and writing mostly.” You peeked back at him over your shoulder. “Do you have an age you want to teach?”

A giddy smile tugged at his lips. “Little ones. Preschool. They’re so… Everything’s new to them. It’s so much fun seeing the world like that.”

“Yeah, it is.” You could feel that you were smiling too, turning your eyes back down to watch your step.

Soon, you were down on the dock, laid out on your towel as you enjoyed a puddle of sunlight, listening to the sounds of Sungchan splashing around in the water in front of you.

“You’re going to get skin cancer like that.”

Propping yourself up on one elbow, you looked over your sunglasses at where Sungchan had climbed back up the ladder and was sitting on the edge of the dock, pushing his wet hair out of his face. Like you’d said before, stupidly attractive.

“You literally helped me apply my sunscreen,” you drawled pointedly, recalling when he’d so coyly offered to help you get your back. Pushing your sunglasses back into place, you laid down again. “If I do, it’s your fault.”

You could hear him stand up and walk towards you. “I’ve never understood laying in the sun like that. Don’t you get all sweaty?”

“Haven’t you heard? I’m cold-blooded,” you replied humorously.

“Well, do you think you can survive one swim, or will your blood turn sludge in your veins as soon as you touch water?”

You snickered, finally sitting up. “Fine, fine, I’ll get in.”

Sungchan watched you get to your feet, then offered his hand out. You eyed it suspiciously.

“I’m getting in,” you promised, pointing to the ladder.

He offered his hand more insistently. “It’s not that bad. Jump in with me.”

You sighed, grabbing his hand. “Fine.”

Stepping up the edge of the dock with him, he swung your clasped hands in time as he counted, “One, two—”

“Three!” You finished, pulling him forward with you.

He rushed to bring his other hand up to plug his nose as you careened the both of you off the dock and into the lake. The water surged up around you, cool but not cold, not too warm to be gross, just refreshing enough. You squeezed your eyes shut as you went under, and let go of Sungchan’s hand so you could paddle back up to the surface. Wiping the water from your eyes, you laughed as he immediately pointed an accusatory finger at you.

“Dragging your heels only to pull me off!” He was grinning too.

“I’m sorry, did I see you plugging your nose?” You teased back. “At your big age?”

“I’m not getting a brain-eating amoeba, thank you,” he retorted. “You were asleep, but there was this billboard we passed on our way here warning people about it.”

“But do you know how to blow nose bubbles, Sungchan?”

“Well, no.”

“Okay, mini-swim lesson,” you declared, waving him closer. “Come on, I used to teach water safety to little kids. If I can teach a two-year-old to stop snorting water, I believe in you.”

“You taught swim lessons?”

“Yeah, it was my first job, in high school.” You locked back into instructing. “You can blow your nose, right?”

He looked at you blankly. “Yes.”

“Hey, some people have body awareness issues, it’s always better to ask.” You held your hands up defensively. “So, same mechanics, air goes out into the water, keep your mouth closed, and don’t inhale through your nose right after while it’s still underwater.”

You did a small demonstration for him, only submerging from your chin to your nose, letting out a slow stream of bubbles. Bringing your face back up, you added, “And try not to exhale all at once.”

Sungchan mirrored your actions, lowering his face until his nose was underwater, slowly exhaling. He uncertainly lifted his head again after, eyes on you.

You smiled and clapped your hands. “Yay! There we go!”

“That was... weirdly easy.” He immediately did it again.

“Now you just have to think about doing it all the time, until you don’t have to think about doing it.” You rolled over onto your back, relaxing as you floated. “Then you’ll never have to worry about plugging your nose again.”

“If you used to be a swim instructor, why didn’t you want to swim?” Sungchan followed after you curiously as you drifted away.

“Because then I do stuff like give grown men lessons on how to blow nose bubbles.”

“That was helpful.”

“And—” You popped up to tread water again, facing Sungchan. “I kind of hate lakes. And oceans. Anything that I can’t see the bottom in, and where stuff lives. Like fish, or brain-eating amoebas. I like my pools.”

His face fell. “Oh, well we can get out—”

“I said kind of,” you cut him off. “I don’t mind, because you wanted to swim, and I’m having fun with you.”

“But—”

“Sungchan.” You held his gaze steadily, keeping your voice calm, inquisitive even. “Have you ever done something you don’t really care for, because your friends or family wanted to?”

“Well, yeah.”

“They’re worth it?”

“Of course.”

You tilted your head with a knowing smile. “So are you.”

His face flushed with what you knew wasn’t the heat of the sun. “Oh...”

The sound of a boat motor in the distance caught your attention. Coming around a bend in the trees was, in fact, a boat, and while you couldn’t make out any individual faces at this distance, the fact that it was headed right towards you, and several of the figures were jumping and waving at you, you could guess that it held all your friends.

“Well, there’s everyone,” you laughed, heading back towards the dock.

Some days later, you were contentedly relaxed in a hammock that had been suspended between two trees in the spacious backyard of the cabin, humming along to a song playing from Ningning’s phone as you half-listened to whatever juicy piece of gossip that the other two were divulging. A cool night breeze passed over your bare arms and legs, pricking up goosebumps in its wake, and you shivered.

“I’m going to grab a sweater or something,” you declared, getting down from the hammock. Picking up your empty drink can from the table nearby, you added, “Not to mention, I’m out of seltzer.”

“Can you see if we have any more chocolate-covered pretzels?” Karina requested.

“Sure.” You grabbed some of the other trash to take in with you.

You passed by the guys playing video games in the living room as you headed for the kitchen, tossing the garbage out first. After throwing on a hoodie from your room, you went back into the living room, fully intending on checking the kitchen for Karina’s snack. Instead, you were met by a desperate, raucous chorus of yells of your name.

“Hm?” You looked up at the guys questioningly, stopping in your tracks.

Mark waved you over fervently. “Come here! We need an even number.”

“What are you guys playing?” You took a hesitant step closer, eyes scrutinizing the game menu.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s a button masher, super easy,” Shotaro reassured you, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the living room. “Sungchan’s not even half-bad at it.”

“Yeah, you can uh, you can even be on Sungchan’s team,” Hyuck said, exchanging a mischievous grin with a couple of your other friends.

“Okay,” you shrugged, plopping down into the space that Sungchan had made for you between him and the arm of the couch. A controller was pushed into your hand. Karina’s pretzels could wait.

“This moves your character around, this one is to jump, this one is to attack, this one is to shield,” Sungchan quietly explained the controls to you as the others started assigning teams, hands hovering over yours on the controller. “There’s some other special moves, but those are the basics. Just uh, stay away from Hyuck.”

You nodded. “Got it.”

“Nice hoodie by the way,” he added, much softer.

“Thanks...” You murmured back, well aware that you were wearing his from the car.

“Alright!” Jaemin announced loudly. “Let’s do it!”

Now, you didn’t exactly consider yourself a gamer. In fact, you spent most of the time either running away from the other guys, or at one point, accidentally falling off the level and losing a life all on your own. You couldn’t even tell if you were even really helping Sungchan at all. But it was fun, and you were kind of maybe starting to get a hang of the controls by the end of the round. To your surprise, the two characters that popped up as winners, however, were yours and Sungchan’s.

“We won?” You questioned, looking at Sungchan in surprise.

“Looks like we did,” he confirmed, smiling down at the controller in his hand.

“Hell yeah!” You held a hand up for him to high five.

“Sungchan, what the hell?” Shotaro smacked his arm from his other side.

“Since when have you been good at video games?” Jaemin interjected from the other couch.

“Have you been sucking on purpose this whole time and just decided to reveal that you were good now?” Mark questioned accusatorily.

“Yeah, we were joking when we said he was only half-bad at this game, he’s actually ass at it,” Anton clarified to you, making you roll your eyes at their apparent plan to give you the worst player.

“Sorry Y/N, he’s on my team next,” Hyuck declared, bringing up the character selections and switching Sungchan’s team color to match his own.

“Hey, change that back,” Sungchan said, his voice level but firm.

Hyuck actually stopped in his tracks, looking back at Sungchan with wide eyes. He held his hands up in surrender.

Sungchan switched his team color back to match yours with no interference from the others. You lightly bumped your leg against his as the room chatter started back up. He bumped your leg back.

The next day, everyone went out on a hike. There was a slightly overgrown trail that went around the mountainside, taking lazy twists and turns through the trees. Said greenery provided you with plenty of shade, and concealed the lake below from you so well it almost felt like you had transported elsewhere. The trail was narrow, however, only fitting three people comfortably at its widest points, but usually only two, so your group was spread out thin along it.

Jaemin and Hyuck were up front, arguing about… something that you couldn’t parse out from your place all the way at the back. Turning to Sungchan beside you, you took your water bottle out of the side pocket of the backpack he was wearing. Somehow he had been burdened with most of the group’s supplies, and while you weren’t exactly doing any sort of survivalist stuff out here, you didn’t see why everyone couldn’t at least carry their own water bottles.

Taking a swig from your bottle, you kept it in your hand as you pointed at him accusingly, “You didn’t suddenly get good at that game out of nowhere last night, Sungchan.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, I mean…”

“Were you sucking on purpose so nobody’s feelings got hurt?”

“I didn’t suck. I was just sort of… okay.” He tried to explain. “I don’t know if it was on purpose, I guess I just didn’t care if everyone knew that I was the best? I’m just not super competitive, really.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Hyuck speechless like that before either.” You laughed at the memory. “You don’t ever stand up for yourself with them like that, do you?”

“It’s not like they bully me or anything…”

“You just go with the flow?”

“Yeah, exactly,” he seemed to relax again at your words.

“I had fun playing on your team last night,” you said, taking another sip. “Win or lose. I’m glad you didn’t go with the flow that time.”

“Hey, hold still?” Sungchan requested, reaching a hand out towards your face.

You froze warily. “What is it? A bug?”

“No, no,” he reassured you, brushing your hair back from one side of your head, then the other. “Did you leave the cabin with only one earring in?”

“Shit, no!” Your hands flew up to clutch at your lobes, immediately feeling that one of them was empty. You looked down at the ground around your feet, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach that it was useless. There was nothing around you but dirt and grass. “Damn it!”

Sungchan made an effort to look under him as well, but came up empty-handed too. “I don’t see anything…”

“Well, damn,” you sighed, dropping your hands back down to your sides. “Could’ve been worse, I guess. Could’ve been my grandmother’s pearls or something instead of a pair of earrings I stole from my freshman roommate.”

“Seriously?” He laughed as you continued down the trail.

“It was an accident! Mostly…” You explained. “We borrowed each other’s stuff all the time, and when we moved out at the end of the year, the earrings ended up in my stuff. I told her I had them and she said I could keep them. Apparently they always made her ears itch anyway.”

“Sucks you lost one, though. I thought the little hearts were really cute.”

“Just like you thought my raggedy old t-shirt was cute?” You snorted.

“Exactly.”

“Why do you get shotgun, Y/N?” Anton complained from the backseat, his voice loud to be heard over the wind.

“Because it’s my car,” Sungchan retorted, his thumb tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel. “And I said so.”

You couldn’t help but snicker at the image of poor Anton and his lanky limbs squished into the middle seat between Shotaro and Mark. “You could’ve stayed at the cabin, Anton.”

“I was bored.” He crossed his arms. “And I thought Sungchan would’ve at least been sympathetic to his fellow long-legged brethren.”

“But the baby always gets the middle seat.” You turned around to pinch his cheek.

“I am not—”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sungchan sighed, looking out the window. “With the way you’re whining right now.”

Anton’s jaw dropped as the other three of you broke into howling laughter.

Soon enough, you arrived at your destination, a natural park with a huge cave system. The main attraction, however, was that one section of the tunnels was so dark that you couldn’t even see your own hand in front of your face.

A small family, and field trip for what looked like a summer camp had arrived just before you all, and were put in the same tour group as your friends. You watched from afar with amusement as the counselors put the children into buddy pairs before the tour guide officially began the tour.

“Hey, don’t you teach, Y/N?” Shotaro asked curiously as your own group took up the rear of the tour, nodding towards all the kids.

“Yeah, I do,” you answered, the air immediately becoming cooler as you stepped into the caves. “Primary school.”

“Jungchan over here wants to be a teacher too!” Anton informed you cheerily, slapping Sungchan on the shoulder, the sound cracking through the entire cave loudly.

Several heads turned around to look at the source of the noise, and you all looked around at the walls of the cave innocently until they turned forward again. The cave was getting darker and darker, the lights strung up by the park employees getting fewer and further between. Your eyes continued to adjust to the changing light, but your surroundings were becoming less made up of clear objects with definable features and more the vague outline of shapes.

“Oh, really?” You asked mildly, barely concealing the humor in your tone.

“Early childhood education,” he replied calmly, hand sneaking up to pinch your side.

It took everything in you not to squeal as you squirmed away from his hand, elbowing his arm. You could hear the light puffs of his silent laughter next to you. Right as you had lifted your own hand up to retaliate, the tour group came to a stop, everything was pitch black around you, and Sungchan’s hand caught yours, lacing your fingers together. There were no lights in here, and the children’s excited chatter rose as the counselors spoke back to them to confirm that they were still there as well. You held your free hand up in front of your face, and the only way you knew it was there was because you could feel that it was. The only thing your eyes saw was darkness.

“That’s freaky,” Shotaro commented from somewhere behind you.

“What the hell, man?” Mark was somewhere to your other side. “Dude, I can’t see my hand! Just like it said online!”

“Oh! There you are, Shotaro!” Anton breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, I didn’t disappear in the five seconds since we walked in here,” Shotaro grunted. “Did you have to practically climb on top of me to confirm that?”

You reached out tentatively towards Sungchan, your hand eventually bumping into his chest. “Ah, found you.”

“Found me,” he echoed quietly.

The tour guide started ushering everyone out of the sector, and as the light started entering your vision again, your fingers unwound from Sungchan’s. The counselor’s voices floated back to you as they took a headcount of all their kids, who were still dutifully holding onto their assigned buddies.

Soft footsteps at the top of the stairs caught your attention, and you looked up from your laptop at the tall figure hovering there awkwardly. You offered Sungchan a soft smile, waving him into the small attic loft space. There wasn’t much up here except the couch that you were on, a narrow table, and a dartboard. The ceiling was so low that Sungchan had to hunch just the slightest to avoid knocking his forehead into the wooden crossbeams.

“Hey.” You pushed yourself up into a proper sitting position on the couch, your computer moving from your stomach to your lap.

“Why aren’t you out with everyone else?” He sat down in the space that you had freed up. The others had all gathered outside around the firepit to roast marshmallows and drink, but you had other things to tend to.

You nodded to the device. “Ah, I had some grading to do.”

“I thought you were on summer break.”

“Tutoring.” You set the laptop aside on the coffee table, even as your eyes caught on the screen fondly. “One of my students, I mean, she doesn’t need it for her grades. But she just loves writing, so her mom pays for sessions like private workshops. I’m working on her newest story right now.”

“How is it?”

“She’s so creative!” You couldn’t help but laugh. “It amazes me every time. She hasn’t quite figured out resolutions yet, still rushes through them once she’s decided she’s done with the exciting part. But she’s gotten a lot better with dialogue. She used to not write it at all, just tell you what characters said, never putting anything in quotes, you know?”

“It’s typed?” He questioned, looking at the word document on your screen.

“Yeah, she has coordination issues, pencils kind of slow her down,” you explained. “She’s working on it in her occupational therapy. But that’s not what this is for. This is to let her be creative. If I forced her to use a pencil, she’d have to stop writing because her hands were done before her brain was done.”

“That... sounds frustrating for her.”

“There’s other options now. I mean, when’s the last time you actually used a pencil in your everyday life?”

He seemed to think about this for a moment. “...Good point.”

There was a pause as Sungchan just kept looking at you, the moment feeling much like when you were in the restaurant, his dark brown eyes sparkling even in the dim lighting you had now.

“Did you miss me, Sungchan?” You eyed him teasingly.

“Well, yeah,” he agreed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“What did you tell everyone else you were doing when you came looking for me?”

“I didn’t make an announcement or anything.”

“Yeah?” You sat up closer to him, then did a double-take as you noticed a hole in his earlobe. “Hey, I never noticed you had your ears pierced.”

“Only one.” He turned his head to show you the other, unadulterated lobe. “Probably why you didn’t notice, you’ve always been on my other side in the car.”

An idea immediately came to your mind, and you stood up from the couch. “Wait here.”

Traversing through the house, you came back up the stairs with your prize clutched triumphantly in the palm of your hand. You held your closed fist out towards him indicatively. “Here.”

He held his hand out, letting you drop the single red heart stud into it. His eyes widened as he turned it over with a fingertip. “You’re…”

“I washed it, don’t worry.”

Sungchan promptly put the stud in, securing it with the backing and looking up at you again with a delighted, amazed smile.

“Cute,” you commented, tracing the shell of his ear with a fingertip.

“And what does this mean, Y/N?” He asked slyly.

“What am I going to do with only one earring?” You replied with feigned innocence. “And, I was kind of hoping you’d need help putting it on, since there’s no mirrors in here...”

He leaned back against the couch. “And how exactly would you have helped me put it on?”

“Well, I can’t really see from here, so, I would’ve had to get closer—” You stepped forward, putting your hands on his shoulders as you lowered yourself onto his lap. You kept your focus on his face the whole time, watching for any hesitation, any uncertainty, any indication that you should stop. His eyes watched you with rapt attention, big and brown and awe-filled.

“Good?” You asked quietly, your voice barely above a hum.

He swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down, and your eyes followed the movement, before he answered, “Good.”

“Then I would’ve put the earring in—” You once again outlined the outer shell of his ear, continuing down the line of his jaw. “And probably said something about the adorable little freckle you have on the bridge of your nose that I kind of want to bite.”

You tapped said freckle, high up on his nose, nearly between his brows, and his face split into a grin as he laughed breathily.

“Bite?” He repeated, clearly amused at the idea.

“Mhm.” You nodded, looping your arms around his neck. “You’ve got a very biteable nose, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, the whole nose is biteable, not just the freckle,” he chuckled, settling his hands on your hips.

“Well, more than just the nose.”

“Y/N.”

“Mm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You gasped in feigned shock. “Before our first date?”

“Do I need to ask your hand in marriage first?” He was so close that your noses almost touched now, his question mingling with your answer that came soon after.

“No,” you snickered, letting him seal his lips over yours in the next moment.

“You mauled him.”

Turning around from where you were eating a bowl of cereal, you raised an eyebrow at Hyuck. “Good morning to you too, Hyuck. And nice bedhead.”

He didn’t fix his hair that was sticking up in all directions, coming around to flop into the seat across the table from you. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about?” You snorted. Pushing the box towards him, you offered, “Cereal?”

“Care to tell me why Sungchan is covered in hickies and bite marks?”

“Care to tell me how you know that?”

“He sleeps shirtless, don’t try to avoid.”

“Why do you think it was me?”

“He disappeared from the bonfire last night and didn’t return, you didn’t show up at all, he appears the next morning coincidentally looking like he’s been someone’s chew toy. You’re... you.”

You cocked your head at him curiously. “Weren’t you trying to set us up?”

“I was. I still am, kind of,” he sighed. “Like I said, Sungchan’s the nicest guy I know. Don’t... chew him up and spit him out, please.”

“I’m touched you think so highly of me, truly.”

“That didn’t come out right,” he groaned, rubbing his face with two hands. “I meant... Make sure you two are on the same page about what you’re doing and what you want.”

“We are, Hyuck,” you told him quietly.

Hyuck peeked at you over his hands, and based on the crinkles that formed around his eyes, you could perfectly imagine the mischievous grin that was hidden. “So it was you, then?”

Footsteps entered the kitchen then, followed by Sungchan’s voice, deeper with the early hours of the morning, “Oh, morning, Y/N, Hyuck.”

He stopped next to your seat at the end of the table, seeming uncertain of just how close to be to you. He was wearing a longsleeve, which didn’t help much with the few marks on his neck and under his jaw. The red heart stud was still in his ear, which made your chest squeeze and your whole body thrum with happiness.

“Morning, Sungchan,” you said brightly, gesturing to the cereal box. “Cereal? Hyuck didn’t want any.”

“Oh, sure.”

“Sit, I’ll get your bowl.” You stood up, gently pushing him towards the table as you walked by him towards the cabinets.

“Gross, could you not do that in front of me?” Donghyuck made an exaggerated gagging sound.

“Do what?” Sungchan squinted at him in confusion at the same time that you scoffed, “Nobody’s holding you here at gunpoint. Go back to sleep.”

“Maybe I will.” He made a grand display of pushing his chair back and standing up.

“You’ve never been a morning person.” You shook your head at him. “See you in a few hours.”

As he shuffled back out of the kitchen, you returned to your mission of fetching a bowl and the milk, bringing them back to the table for Sungchan. He’d taken the seat next to yours, and you happily plopped back down beside him.

“Thanks,” he murmured, beginning to fix a bowl of cereal for himself.

“Good one sleeping shirtless, by the way. Hyuck had absolutely no questions,” you teased, finger poking one of the hickies facing you.

Sungchan gave you a pointed stare, but made no move to knock your hand away. “Oh and who couldn’t keep her teeth to herself?”

“I told you: You’re biteable.”

He reached up to grab your hand and removed it from where you'd still been messing with the marks you’d left on his throat. Instead of just pushing it away, he brought your joined hands down to rest on his leg. After a beat, he looked up at you, uncertainty in his gaze, as if he were about to belatedly ask permission.

You laced your fingers together, scooting your chair closer to his before picking up your spoon with your free hand.

As the anchor was dropped into the water, there was an excited buzz about the boat, everyone getting ready to get in the water. Hyuck had stopped the boat by a rope swing that was set up in a tree on one of the steep edges of where the mountain met the lake. A few inflatables were tied to the boat so they wouldn’t drift away, and of course, a couple coolers with plenty of drinks were on deck.

“Y/N, can you help me with my sunscreen?” Ningning requested, holding the bottle out to you.

“Ning, I told you to apply it at the cabin,” you sighed, accepting the sunscreen nevertheless as she took her coverup off.

“It’s not my fault we’re currently sharing one bathroom with like five other people!” She pointed out. “I didn’t have time.”

Sudden wolf whistles and dramatic yells from the back of the boat made you snap your head over, anger flooding your body immediately. But you realized that none of them were aimed at you and Ningning. Instead, the guys seemed to all be taunting Sungchan, who had just taken his shirt off, revealing the full extent of the love bites scattered on his skin.

“Dude, did you get mauled by a bear or something?” Mark laughed.

“Or fall down the mountain?” Anton’s eyes were wide as he went to poke one on Sungchan’s shoulder.

Sungchan slapped his hand away. “Personal space?”

“Fall down the mountain after getting mauled by a bear?” Jaemin proposed helpfully, moving behind him as if inspecting a product that he was purchasing at a store. “We got claw marks, guys!”

They all let out teasing cheers, and you could see that Sungchan’s ears were bright red. You shook your head to yourself, going back to helping Ningning with her sunscreen.

She craned her neck to be able to look at you over her shoulder. “Nice one, Y/N.”

“Who, me?” You blinked at her innocently.

“You left that poor boy to deal with those menaces by himself.”

You’d finished up with her sunscreen, handing her the bottle. “One sec.”

Walking over to where the guys were still razzing Sungchan, who now looked prematurely sunburned, you held a hand up to shade your eyes, squinting as you looked off towards the rope swing.

“I bet Shotaro could make it there first,” you commented casually.

“What?!” They all looked over at you, dumbfounded.

“No way!” Anton argued. “I literally used to be a swimmer.”

“But if you’re talking endurance—” Jeno tried to vouch for himself.

“All your big muscles just make you sink, dude,” Hyuck snorted. “You’ve got no buoyancy.”

As they kept squabbling, you were still eyeing the rope swing. “Yeah, but, Taro’s like, halfway there already.”

Their heads whipped around to see that Shotaro had, in fact, been lazily paddling towards the swing all the while they were teasing Sungchan. The guys all rushed to toss off whatever shirts, shoes, hats, or sunglasses they didn’t want to get wet, practically shoving each other in their haste to get in the water and race towards the rope swing. The boat swayed a little with their movements, and you grabbed Sungchan’s arm for stability, the only one of them who hadn’t taken your bait.

Shotaro turned around when he heard all the splashes behind him, confusion turning to momentary panic as they all rushed at him.

“Hurry up! You’re going to lose your head start!” Sungchan yelled out to him.

“What?!” He began backstroking faster. “I didn’t know this was a race!”

Karina was already in one of the inflatables off the back of the boat, and Ningning gracefully dove off the back platform to join in her one of the other ones.

Looking back up at Sungchan, you couldn’t help but burst into laughter at how perfectly that had worked. He was laughing too, one of his hands dropping to your waist to pull you closer to him.

“Thanks for the save there,” he chuckled, thumb sneaking under the shirt you were wearing to rub circles into the bare skin above your swimsuit bottoms. “Did you put sunscreen on?”

“Back at the cabin,” you confirmed. “Hate to disappoint.”

“You could’ve lied and said no.”

“I am nothing if not an honest and pure soul,” you put a hand over your heart as your words were laced with sarcasm.

Sungchan snickered at this, his smile so bright you could forget about the sun, leaning in even closer to him.

“Sungchan.”

“Mhm?” He looked down at you, tilting his head inquisitively.

“Can I kiss you?”

“In front of everyone?” He gasped, still teasing.

“That’s a little bit the point.” You couldn’t take your eyes off him—so gorgeous it really was unfair. “And also, I really want to kiss you right now.”

“What a coincidence—I want to kiss you too.”

You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to yours. He immediately responded in turn, his other hand that wasn’t on your hip going to cup your cheek. The sounds of various taunts, cheers, and whistles all faded out behind the roaring in your ears.

It was your last night in the cabin, and you were of course celebrating with one last bonfire. Your group of friends were spread out between the firepit, the hammock, and the other lounge furniture on the spacious deck. You and Sungchan were tucked onto a small loveseat by the table of food, idly chatting as you sipped your drink and he nibbled off the snack offerings in front of you.

The sliding glass door opened behind you, one of your friends walking out from inside the cabin. Glancing up, you saw that it was Mark, his eyes down on his phone screen as he shut the door behind him.

“Those little rolls from Mrs. Han’s restaurant were really good,” Sungchan sighed happily, hand on his stomach.

“There’s still one more,” you pointed out. “Take it.”

He looked uncertain for a moment, but you nudged him with your foot insistently.

“Everybody’s already had one. Go ahead.”

Sungchan had just reached forward towards the last roll as Mark walked by, eyes on his phone as he swiped it from the plate. The man next to you just sighed dejectedly, sitting back in his seat.

“Hey, Sungchan was going to eat that,” you called after Mark loudly. Not too rude, just making him aware as he clearly hadn’t been paying attention.

Mark turned around, looking at you two, then down at the roll in his hand in confusion. He offered it back out to Sungchan. “Oh, sorry man, I didn’t realize—”

Sungchan waved him off. “It’s okay, you can have—”

You stood up, walked over, and snatched it out of Mark’s hand. “Thanks, bye.”

Mark paused, as if he were thinking about saying something else, but opted not to, walking over to sit with Jeno and Hyuck by the fire.

You sat back down next to Sungchan and placed it in his hand. “Here.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Sungchan was clearly fighting a smile as he looked down at his feet. He tore the roll in half, offering one half out to you.

You took it gratefully, tapping your half against his in a little cheers before you both simultaneously stuffed the whole thing into your mouths in one go. Looking at him with his puffed-out cheeks, knowing that yours definitely looked exactly the same made you burst out laughing, and your hand flew up to cover your mouth and keep any crumbs in. Sungchan was clearly struggling to not spit out his half-chewed food as he started laughing too, turning away from you and slapping his leg.

When you had finally chewed and swallowed the bread without choking, and composed yourself again, you turned back to Sungchan, still well aware of the faint, smitten smile on your lips. He was already facing you, watching you with a fond sparkle in his eyes. He reached out, brushing a couple crumbs from the side of your mouth with his thumb.

“Oh, thanks.” You habitually wiped the other side of your mouth just in case.

“I’m curious…” He said quietly, grabbing one of your hands to gently play with your fingers. “Have you picked out what we’re doing for our first date yet?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I don’t want to spoil anything.” You then added a teasing, “Plus, we have to get home first. Who knows, your car might get another flat on the way back and then we’ll get stranded out here and die.”

He burst into soft chuckles. “Since you won’t be navigating, I think we’ll make it back just fine.”

“I like those odds,” you beamed.

“Me too.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then murmured by your ear, “I like our odds a lot, I think.”

The next day found you in the passenger seat of Sungchan’s car, wearing his hoodie and humming along to whatever he was playing over the speakers. The car had a full tank of gas, four inflated tires, and the maps app was not in your hands.

“You know, I get it now,” Sungchan spoke into the peaceful quiet abruptly.

You lolled your head over to look at him questioningly. “Get what?”

“Why you were suspicious of me at first.”

“You finally realized how stupidly hot you are?” You snorted, reaching over to pinch his cheek.

“I’m thinking I should’ve been more suspicious of you, actually.” He pinched your cheek right back, and you smacked his hand away. He just laughed, grabbing your hand and entwining your fingers over the console.

“Why’s that?”

“We haven’t even been on our first date and I feel like I’ve gone head over heels right down the mountainside.”

You groaned and shook your head. “I was suspicious of you for the wrong reason. You’re not a player or anything, you’re actually too sweet for my own good.”

“Your own good?”

“Yeah, you keep saying shit like that and I’m going to do something crazy like say ‘I love you’ on our first date.”

He laughed, squeezing your hand. “Challenge accepted.”

⤷ masterlist

[jaikoyaki]

Midnight Flight

//Kang Haerin x Reader//Hogwarts AU//

SYPNOSIS: Y/N L/N had just finished her prefect duties and was finally ready to enjoy a quiet night in her dorm, a book in hand and peace at last. That was until she heard an insistent tapping on her window. To her disbelief, there was her girlfriend, Kang Haerin—on a broom, in the dead of night, throwing pebbles at her window.

TAGS: fluff, Slytherin!Haerin, Ravenclaw!Reader, Harry Potter AU, Short oneshot, Prefect!Reader, fem!reader

WARNINGS: mild language, miscommunication (I think)

WORDCOUNT: 1.2k

A/N : Apologies if this feels rushed, this'll be my last one-shot before school starts </3

Flying around the castle in the dead of night wasn’t exactly the smartest idea.

But when was she ever one to play it safe? The broomstick wobbled as she soared higher, the Ravenclaw tower looming ahead.

Her fingers tightened around the broomstick, the chilly night air biting at her face. She knew the risk she was taking—getting caught would mean detention for weeks, maybe even an owl sent home to her parents. But she had come this far, and there was no way she was backing out now.

None of that mattered, Anyways.

What mattered was y/n.

Haerin replayed the events from earlier that day, every detail making her wince. Y/N had called out to her in the Great Hall, but Haerin had been too distracted, too wrapped up in whatever nonsense Hanni was yapping about, to respond properly. She barely even gave Y/N a glance before brushing her off with a vague wave and an “I’ll talk to you later.”

Except “later” never came.

How dumb could she be?

Haerin hadn’t realized the weight of her mistake until hours later,

When Y/N hadn’t even looked her way, her attention buried in her books or something else Haerin couldn’t quite see. It wasn’t like Y/N to ignore her, which could only mean one thing:

She was mad.

She was mad at Haerin.

Her girlfriend was mad at her.

The Ravenclaw dormitory was quiet, save for the soft snores of your sleeping roommates and the occasional groan of the old wooden beams.

You lay on your bed, propped up by a stack of pillows, the book Haerin had given you resting open in your hands. The candlelight on your bedside table cast a comfortable glow across the pages, though your eyes kept drifting toward the window.

It had been a long day—prefect duties, patrolling the halls, and trying to keep Peeves from dropping ink pots on unsuspecting first-years. Now, the peace of your dorm room felt like a small slice of heaven.

In your hands was a book Haerin had given you last week. “I think…you’ll love it,” Haerin had said, her words accompanied by one of those smiles that always made your heart flutter. “The main character kind of reminds me of you.”

Your lips twitched at the memory.

You hadn’t had the heart to tell Haerin that you hadn’t gotten past the first few chapters yet. It wasn’t that the book was boring—far from it actually—but between your duties as a prefect and classes, your free time was almost nonexistent.

Speaking of Haerin, you kind of missed your girlfriend right now—

Tap.

The sound snapped you out of your thoughts.

Tap.

You froze, your eyes darting toward the window by your bed.

Tap.

What the hell?

The noise came again, louder this time. Your heart quickened as you set the book aside and scooted closer to the glass. It was too dark to see clearly at first, but then the faint moonlight illuminated a figure hovering just beyond the window.

There she was—your girlfriend.

Haerin.

Outside.

Riding her broom.

In the middle of the night.

Throwing pebbles at your window.

WHAT THE HELL.

Haerin waved awkwardly, holding up another, bigger pebble as if to say, I’ll throw it if you don’t open the window.

You gestured wildly at the window, mouthing:It doesn’t open!

Haerin blinked, then mouthed back, What?

You facepalmed mentally.

Grabbing a piece of parchment, you scribbled in bold letters: THE WINDOW IS FIXED, YOU IDIOT.

Pressing it against the glass, you watched as Haerin squinted to read it. She frowned, then looked around, as if the solution to this problem might magically appear out of the sky. When nothing did, she hesitated before pointing down, mouthing again, Let me in!

You scribbled on the back of the parchment: HEAD GIRL IS PATROLLING THE COMMON ROOM.

You pressed it against the glass again, trying not to panic.

Shit.

Your mind raced. Getting caught sneaking someone into the Ravenclaw dormitory would mean losing your prefect badge and probably facing suspension. But there was no way you were leaving her out there to become a popsicle.

After one last exasperated glance, you pointed toward the rooftop.

Haerin blinked a few times, processing, then nodded and directed her broom toward the rooftop.

With a sigh, you quickly grabbed your robe and scarf, wrapping it around your neck, and slipped on your slippers.

“Are you okay? What the hell were you thinking?!” you whisper-yelled, spotting Haerin’s flushed cheeks and red nose. The cold had clearly gotten to her—she was only wearing her Slytherin sweater and a skirt. Without hesitation, you wrapped your robe and scarf around her.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled, pulling the scarf tighter around herself. “I just… needed to see you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “In the middle of the night? On a broom? You know you could have just waited until tomorrow, right? How- how did you even sneak out?? You could’ve fallen! Do you even realize how dangerous that was? ” You couldn’t stop the questions spilling out of your mouth, your worry overpowering your ability to keep your voice calm.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly.

“For what?” you asked, momentarily thrown off. “I’m not mad at you, Haerin. I’m just worried. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt—”

“No- no.” Haerin interrupted, cutting you off. She suddenly hugged you, burying her face in your shoulder.

This was the first time she had hugged you without you initiating it.

“You're mad at me.”

You froze for a moment, surprised, but your arms instinctively wrapped around her. “What’s going on, Haerin?”

“I’m sorry for ignoring you,” she whispered into your shoulder.

“What?”

“I—I messed up today. I was so wrapped up in everything that I didn’t even listen to you. You called out to me, and I just… I brushed you off. I was too busy. And I… I didn’t even notice you were mad.”

oh.

You blinked, feeling a wave of realization hit you.

“Why are you laughing…?” she pulled away slightly to meet your eyes.

“You dummy,” you giggled, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t mad at you. I figured you were just busy. You didn’t ignore me on purpose, and I knew that.”

Haerin blinked, her lips parting slightly as if she didn’t quite believe you. But then she let out a shaky breath and hugged you again, tighter this time. “Thank you,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

The moment might have lasted longer if not for the creak of a door opening nearby. Your heart stopped as a familiar voice called out.

“Who’s there?”

Minji. The head girl.

Panic flared in your chest.

Quick, think of an excuse, Y/N.

You scrambled to pull the cloak over Haerin’s head, tugging it down just as Minji’s silhouette emerged from the shadows.

“It’s Y/N!” you called out, your voice just a bit too cheerful.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

You quickly placed a steadying hand on Haerin’s cloaked shoulder. “Just escorting a first-year back to the dorms,” you blurted, forcing a smile.

Minji emerged from the shadows, her sharp gaze narrowing. “First-years? At this hour?”

“Yeah, they got lost on their way back from the Astronomy Tower.” You gave a nervous chuckle, gripping Haerin’s shoulder to keep her from fidgeting.

“First years,” you added with a nervous chuckle. “Always wandering where they shouldn’t be.”

Minji crossed her arms, her piercing gaze flicking between you and the cloaked Haerin. For a moment, it felt like she might press further. But then she sighed, rubbing her temple. “Fine, but make it quick. It’s past curfew.”

As soon as she disappeared, you turned to Haerin with a glare. “You’re not flying back,” you hissed. “We’re taking the hidden tunnels. Let’s go.”

“Lead the way.”

Join the Taglist: @arihiu @silvvrenn @fruityg0rl

@keiji-jin @hazel-tanthamore22

[locomoqo]

Heyyy i was wondering if you could write some Gun and Goo x reader fluff together? Your writing is absolutely amazing! 😁

Also, I was wondering if, in the future, you would ever consider writing for olly wang?

sharking

— gun park & goo kim x reader

details: fluff, the relationship between you and them is all up to you!

A/N: billiards is so cool, I applaud ppl who can play it😋 ..me personally i suck ass at billiards and yes! i'll consider writing for olly wang :DD

Gun and Goo were already mid-argument when you joined them at the pool table, both of them dramatically chalking up their cues. You couldn’t help but laugh as Goo pointed his cue at Gun with a grin that was equal parts competitive and smug.

“Just because you look serious doesn’t mean you’re actually good,” Goo taunted, lining up his shot.

Gun raised an eyebrow, giving him that trademark glare. “And you think you’ll hit anything?” His voice was cold but had that familiar dry humor you’d come to expect from him.

Goo gasped in mock offense. Spotting you, he turned to you, “Bet you’d want to be on my team, huh?” a grin on his face.

“Maybe I’ll just stay neutral and watch you two bicker like an old married couple.” You chuckled, eyeing the table.

Gun actually cracked a small, amused smirk. “See? Even they don’t trust you.”

With a wink, Goo pouted, feigning hurt. “Fine, watch and be amazed!” He dramatically aimed his cue, only to completely miss the shot. You burst into laughter as he froze, trying to save face. “That was…intentional. Strategy, see?”

Gun rolled his eyes, then effortlessly sank a ball in the corner pocket with his usual precision. He didn’t gloat, but the smug glance he shot Goo said it all. “That’s how it’s done,” he remarked dryly.

You clapped, teasing, “Looks like you’re on your own, Goo.”

Goo shook his head with an exaggerated sigh, waving his cue. “One day, you’ll see my true talent,” he grumbled. 

As the game went on, you watched the back-and-forth intensify. Goo kept trying to redeem himself, taking increasingly wild shots—some going in and some not, while Gun played with infuriating precision, each shot calculated and clean. You could feel Goo’s frustration building every time Gun effortlessly sank another ball.

Goo nudged you, whispering, “You’re my lucky charm, right? Just… distract him or something.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, and you rolled your eyes.

“Distract Gun? Are you kidding? He’s like a robot,” you whispered back, shooting a glance at Gun, who caught your look and raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing something.

“I can hear you, you know,” Gun said dryly, leaning down to line up his next shot. He didn’t even need to look up to know Goo was scheming.

“Oh, come on, don’t be so uptight,” Goo groaned, crossing his arms. “Let me have just one lucky shot. I’m doing this for us!” He winked at you, clearly pushing you to be his path to winning.

“You’d need more than luck to beat me, Goo,” Gun shot back, actually cracking a small smirk, which was almost as rare as a total eclipse.

Feeling playful, you moved closer to Gun just as he was lining up a shot. “What if I do distract you, though?” you teased softly.

Gun paused, eyes narrowing when he momentarily glanced at you. “You think you could?” his voice steady, but the corner of his mouth hinting at a smile.

You leaned back, grinning, and just as Gun missed his shot, Goo seized the opportunity, taking a shamelessly quick shot. The ball actually went in, and Goo threw his hands up in exaggerated victory. “See! That’s skill!” he declared, beaming at you as if he’d just won a championship.

Gun straightened, giving him a blank stare. “Lucky,” he muttered, but there was an undeniable trace of amusement in his eyes.

You found yourself caught in the middle of their banter, realizing just how much you loved these moments with the two of them, where even Gun’s serious edges softened.

[wxxpingangxls]

WET

+synopsis; the hottest criminal solicitor is in town and she’s ready to fight tooth and nail to prove her new clients innocence. I wonder how he’ll thank her…

+content/warnings; black reader but little to no explicit detail, taboo relationships, stalking, peeping tom, death threats, begging, mentions of murder, graphic details, angst, cheating, reader smokes, semi public, oil massage, nasty and messy sex, squirting, brief toe sucking, running from him, pussy drunk Toji, mr munch, ass eating, Toji is grown and got stubble, face sitting, 69, mating press, doggy style, overstimulation

+pairings; Felon Toji x Lawyer!Fem Black Reader

+a/n; ending is rushed idk why 😞😞 but i hope you enjoy lovely’s!!!🩷

“So, Mr Fushi… Uh, so what exactly are we here to discuss today?” you stated, papers on the table and pen in your hand ready to note down.

He raised an eyebrow as his eyes wandered down to the bright diamond ring blinking at him on your finger. You were used to this behaviour. Felons and criminals acting cold and calloused as if you weren’t the one thing between them and their freedom.

“Look, I don’t want to be here either. But we have got to work together. There’s no point in you sitting on your arse, acting as if I don’t have better places to be. I could be on a trip to Barbados right now but I’m stuck here saving your arse-“

“You done?” he interrupted slyly.

“No, I’m not done. You’re wasting everybody’s time. It’s not my fault you decided to kill that guy at the bar. The court appointed me as your attorney and so I’m going to try my best to help you win this case but I can only do so much.” you huffed at the end of the long speech watching his eyes close in annoyance.

“Look lady, I’ve got a child to go back home to, I don’t have time for this. Can you get my case dismissed or not?”

“I was getting to that,” you stated with venom laced on your tongue. “We can always claim self defence. Given your history there’s not much else,” The question of whether he had a mental illness crossed your mind but quite frankly, you weren’t in the mood to converse with this fiend any longer.

“That’s a pretty ring ya got there… You married?” he questioned. His cuffed hands were lying in his lap. This man had stressed you so damn much that you hadn’t realised how, handsome, he was. Despite the ugly and completely unflattering appearance of the orange jumpsuit, you could see the tattoos that encapsulated his large biceps, big enough to crush your skull with. The man you were defending - or rather attempting to - had the meanest mug written all over his face. But you were a woman before you were a lawyer, and your heart was with another.

“Not yet, I’m engaged,” you huffed.

Toji scoffed before turning to face the large mirror. “Is that all Mr Fushiguro? If so, I’ll be on my way,” and without another word, you swiftly left the room, closing the door on the way out. The correctional officer walked out towards you. “Did he tell ya what ‘appened? Ya know with the guy?” You eyed the officer down, observing his hands that were stationed on his belt. “Exuse me? I’m not entitled to disclose that information,” you rolled your eyes as the click clacking of your heels echoed across the hallway.

“Hi baby, how was your day?” your fiancé kissed your temple as you looked down at the plate of food in front of you.

“It was okay,” you shrugged indifferently.

Your fiancé was the executive marketer of a large company. “I’m sorry to here that, I’ll be upstairs if you need me,”

You didn’t say a word as he walked away. In spite of the disturbing scene unfolding in front of your eyes on the TV whilst watching “The Perfection”, you couldn’t help but wonder how Mr Fushiguro was going. Sure he had a nasty mouth and the patience of a toothpick but there was something so intriguing about him. Maybe it’s because you were tired of you boring and plain life. You’ve always been like that.

It wasn’t anything new for you to leave something that was perfectly good to something subpar purely out of boredom and this was no exception.

The next few weeks consisted of you mostly signing papers, talking with your client, viewing crime scene photos and talking to detectives on the case.

The old Bailey loomed large and imposing, its grandeur echoing centuries of justice. Inside, the air was thick with anticipation and tension. You were a sharp and tenacious criminal lawyer, and this was no new information as you adjusted your barrister's wig, your eyes scanning the courtroom. Your reputation for winning impossible cases was well-earned, and today, your skills would be put to the test.

Toji Fushiguro, your client, sat at the defendant’s table. His presence was both magnetic and menacing, a dangerous mix that had everyone on edge. Accused of a brutal murder, his piercing green eyes betrayed no emotion as he watched the proceedings unfold.

Your first meeting had been fraught with silent judgments and unspoken words. You had read his file meticulously, aware of the gravity of the crime he was accused of. A single father found dead in at the bar, after a fight had broke out, all evidence pointing towards Toji. Yet, something about the case felt off to you, an instinct you couldn’t ignore.

You spent countless hours pouring over the evidence, every piece scrutinized under your critical gaze. Late nights at the office became routine, the flickering desk lamp being your only companion. Toji's file lay open before you, his eyes in the mugshot staring back with a challenge and scar in menacing smirk.

The interviews were intense. Toji, ever the enigma, offered little help. His answers were curt, often cloaked in sarcasm. But there was something beneath the surface, a flicker of vulnerability that intrigued you.

A ghost of a smile played on Toji’s lips. “You’re different from the others. They’ve all looked at me like I’m already convicted.”

"So? Why would you think I'm different? Let’s not forget why I’m here,” you stated.

Days turned into weeks, and your professional relationship took on a different hue. There was a dangerous allure in Toji’s defiance, a charisma that drew you in despite your better judgment. You guys would often find yourselves locked in heated debates, the air between you crackling with unspoken tension.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day in court, you found yourself in a dimly lit pub, nursing a bourbon. The door creaked open, and Toji walked in, flanked by the ever-present guards. Their eyes met across the room, a silent understanding passing between them.

“What the hell are you doing here, Fushiguro?,” you said as he approached the table, your voice low.

“I needed a drink,” Toji shrugged, sitting opposite you. The guards stood discreetly nearby, giving them a semblance of privacy.

You arched an eyebrow. “Well then, get your damn drink and leave me be?”

Toji leaned forward, his eyes darkening. “I think you’re the only person who sees me as more than just a murderer.”

“Oh please, that’s my job as a defendant. You’re onto nothing,”

Your heart pounded in your chest. The line between right and wrong blurred, your connection undeniable and perilous. you knew you were treading dangerous waters, but something about Toji made it impossible to walk away.

As the trial progressed, your determination to uncover the truth deepened. You successfully discovered inconsistencies in the evidence, hidden motives that pointed towards another suspect. Each revelation brought you closer, your late-night strategy sessions charged with a mix of frustration and undeniable chemistry.

The day of the verdict arrived, tension palpable in the courtroom. You stood tall, closing arguments a masterclass in legal brilliance. You had laid out the evidence meticulously, casting doubt on the prosecution’s case.

As the jury filed back in, the room held its breath. The foreman stood, the verdict hanging in the balance.

“Not guilty.”

The words echoed, a collective sigh of relief from your team. Toji turned to you, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper in his eyes. You couldn’t show your true feelings, not here, not now. But the promise of something more lingered between the energy in the air.

As the two of you continued to stare, a bright blinding bling brought his attention back to the engagement right adorning your right finger.

A few weeks after the trial, life starts to return to normal. Your fiancé working hard to make you happy, however your client still plagued your mind.

Your routine became his script. He knew when you left for work, the route you took, where you got your morning coffee. You would catch glimpses of him sometimes—at least you think you do—a flash of his face in a crowd, the shape of his shoulders disappearing around a corner.

One evening, as you leave your office, you feel it again—that sensation of being watched. You quickened your pace, glancing over your shoulder, but the street is empty. You told yourself it’s just your imagination, but the fear lingers.

Toji followed at a distance, his footsteps silent. He knows how to blend into the shadows, how to remain unseen. Every time you turn around, he steps just out of sight, watching you with a predatory intensity. His mind races with thoughts of you, dark fantasies that he can't shake.

Despite the ever growing suspicion of a potential stalker, you decide to treat yourself to a massage at your favorite spa, hoping to find some peace. The soft music and dim lighting work their magic as you settle onto the table, your mind beginning to unwind. An all too familiar and soft female voice tickles your ear, “Hey honey, just give me five and I’ll be back to give you the massage of your life,”

“Hurry Tina, my back hurts,”

A few moments pass before the masseur enters. You hear the door close softly and the click of bottles being opened. Hands begin to work on your tense muscles, and you let out a sigh of relief. The touch is skilled, firm yet gentle, but there is something vaguely unfamiliar about it.

A whisper brushes against your ear. “Did you miss me?”

Your eyes snap open in shock. Toji’s voice is unmistakable. Your heart races as you realize the hands on your body belong to him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, trying to keep your voice steady.

Toji’s hands continue their work, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “I needed to see you. To feel you.”

“What the fuck does that even mean, you bastard? I thought you had a kid to go home to. Instead you’re here feeling me up. Have you no shame?” you whisper, torn between fear and a forbidden thrill.

“I know,” he murmurs, his lips grazing your ear. “But I can’t stay away from you. You’re in my blood, Y/N.”

“Bullshit, you bum,” you spit.

His words are intoxicating, and you find yourself caught in a web of desire and danger. Every stroke of his hands ignites a fire within you, a fire you thought you had extinguished.

You know this is wrong, that you should stop him, but your body betrays you, melting under his touch. The line between right and wrong, sanity and madness, blurs once more.

As Toji’s hands explore your body, you realize that you are no longer just in the shadow of doubt. You are in the shadow of obsession, and there is no turning back. Your mean words did nothing but further push him to make you his.

“If you want me to stop, you know the word,” he carefully caresses the skin of your lower back. You weighed out your options. You were going to be married soon, if you were going to live life you’d might as well do it now before it was too late.

You hummed in acknowledgment, before finally agreeing to his lingering touches. It was going to be a one time thing after all. He gently flipped you over so that you were lying on your back. “Just so you know, Toji, this is a one time thing. After all I’m engaged.” he ignored you as he grabbed your thighs so that they were touching your chest.

He watched as your cunt leaked out before he’d even touch you. His hands weren’t even that good. He figured it must’ve been a long while since you’ve been dicked down good.

He wasted no time before sucking on your bud, your moans being loudly ripped from your chest. “Fuck!” you knew it’d been a while since he’d had some pussy, but damn it couldn’t have been that long. He groaned out from your sweet taste. “My God, I didn’t think you’d taste this good…” he whined out.

He spat on your clit making sure his saliva ran down to your puckered hole, ultimately making a mess out of you. “Oh yes!” you moaned out before cupping your mouth. You had momentarily forgotten you were in public, but the shame of being too loud quickly left your soul as Toji continued to suck on your pussy.

His tongue entered your tight hole, expanding the tight rim. “You ever had your ass ate before?”

“Excuse me?” you sat up utterly shocked.

“N…No? What kind of question is that?”

“Huh…No wonder you’re such a tight ass…Literally…” he scoffed.

He continued his ministrations on your sweet cunt. “If we had some privacy I’d eat your ass out so good,”

You couldn’t even keep your legs up anymore, your orgasm was coming closer. Toji knew this well and started sucking and pulling on your clit. Your face scrunched up in pure bliss. Bliss you hadn’t felt in ages. “Mphm! Toji!”

“Yeah, that’s what I like to hear.” he groaned out in the response.

“Right there Toji! M’ so close!”

A harsh knock interrupted his actions as your abruptly sat up. “Y/N? Oh my Goodness? Are you ok?” Tina asked from the other-side of the door. She shook the door handle multiple times before banging on the door again. “Did you lock the door? Open it please!”

“Did you seriously lock the damn door?” you knocked the upside of Toji’s head.

“I wanted us to have some privacy,” he shrugged indifferently.

You rolled your eyes before groaning, “Hello? Who are you talking to because I know it’s not me,” Tina huffed out annoyed.

“No one, give me a minute I’m coming.” You ushered Toji out to hide behind the cupboard door. The plan was when Tina wasn’t looking, you’d have Toji sneak out then back to the front door. From the minute you met your client you count tell he was a fool. Did you think he was that much of a fool? No. No one could’ve predicted this amount of foolishness. You silently scolded the man as he stood behind the door, waiting for the right moment to sneak out.

One night, after a long bath, you slipped into your favorite silk bathrobe, its softness a comforting embrace. The moonlight filtered through the curtains as you stood by your bedroom window, looking out into the night, wine glass in hand. The city lights twinkled in the distance, but your mind was far away, consumed by thoughts of Toji.

Unbeknownst to you, Toji was there, hidden in the shadows outside your window. His eyes were locked on you, a hunger burning within them. He watched the way the silk clings to your body, every movement a tantalizing tease.

You sighed, running a hand through your damp hair, oblivious to his presence. Toji’s heart raced as he imagined what it would be like to touch you again, to feel your warmth against him. The memory of your pussy haunts him, a forbidden pleasure that he craves more than anything.

He knew this was wrong, that he should stay away, but the pull is irresistible. You were in his blood, an obsession that consumed him. His eyes traced the curve of your neck, the way your robe parts slightly, revealing a glimpse of the cleavage beneath.

Inside, you closed your eyes, lost in thought. Your fiancé was a good man, but he didn’t ignite the same fire in you that Toji does. You tried to push the thoughts away, but they keep returning, relentless and unforgiving.

Toji’s breath hitched as you loosened the belt of your robe, letting it fall open slightly. He gripped the windowsill, fighting the urge to break in, to take what he so desperately desires. His mind raced with dark fantasies, each one more intoxicating than the last.

You stepped away from the window, the cool air brushing against your exposed skin. Toji watched every movement, his body tense with longing. He knew he should leave, but he couldn’t tear himself away. You were his obsession, a forbidden fruit that he was determined to possess.

As you disappeared from view, Toji lingered a moment longer, the image of you burned into his mind. He will find a way to have you, to make you his. In the shadow of obsession, he waits, his desire growing stronger with each passing night.

Your ever growing need for Toji’s mysteriousness pulled you further into a dark pit you knew it’ll be hard to get out of. And if your fiancé was to find out, you’d surely be casted away as a harlot. You had to choose between your pussy and your head, and you had to choose wisely. Will you do the right thing and stay true to your fiance, rejecting Toji’s advances and promises to eat you out so good or will you go behind your husband to be’s back and sleep with the same murderer you helped avoid jail time?

For a minute, one might’ve compared your mental turmoil to that of Hamlets distain and hesitation upon hearing that his father was killed and now he was set to avenge him by killing his uncle but these were two very different situations.

But alas, you believed that you could have many men in your head but as long as you had your true love in your heart then you’re a loyal woman.

That’s exactly how you found yourself with your mouth full of his thick and slimy cock whilst smothering his face with your cunt. Sucks and slurps filled the room as the two of you got on with such harshness of enemies. The gargling of his dick filled the room while he moved his head back momentarily to watch as you clenched on his fingers, holes begging to be filled. He smirked as a glimmer of an idea flicked in his eyes, as they peered up to your winking hole.

His tounge slowly lols out before giving the tight hole a small lick. He let out a boisterous laugh as he watched you shudder and mumble to no avail. His deft fingers moved to your clit as he found a rhythm for his tongue to moaned against your puckered hole. You grind your pussy against his face, moans muffled by his thick cock.

Your clit throbbed as his fingers moved faster, never loosing their grip and his tongue keeping its rhythm. You groaned loudly and clearly this time, his dick was now limp and his cum was scattered all over his thighs and your mouth. You squealed out his name and his onslaught on your slick pussy only got more overwhelming for you and you had no where to move.

Your back arched from the overstimulation and your hands clenched at the pleasure he was feeding you. What you had done to deserve such a treat, you had no idea, but you weren’t complaining. Toji’s hands came down on your cheeks, rubbing and massaging the muscle as he did.

Tears welled up in your eyes and your belly tightened and without a word, he knew you were about to cum. He quickly swapped his tongue and hands, sliding a finger into your asshole and placing his lips around your sweet clit. The spiky stubble of his hair added to your stimulation , adding to your pleasure.

There was no holding back with Toji . He was here to show you how to feel good. “Move,” without warning he turned his head to the side, tapping your arse twice. You blinked your confusion away as his hands guided you so that he was looming over you. You couldn’t say a single thing before you felt that familiar burning of his girth stretching you out. Drool seeped from your mouth as he reached deeper.

“Ah ha ha. Feels good, doesn’t it baby?” he boasted.

Nothing but babbles left your mouth as he gently lulled you to silence. With a firm grip on your hand, and his duck fully sheathed into your deep pussy, he began his rough thrust. Fap. Fap. Fap. Fast paced thrusting in and out, knocking the wind from you. He had rendered you completely speechless which was almost impossible given the type of person you were.

“Lights are on but no one’s home…” he chuckled to himself as he continued to slip in and out.

You whined and squealed as you felt his curved dick rub against your g-spot. It was far too much for you, your cheeks were hot and throbbing, lips bitten and bruised and your throat dry and sore. Tears flew from your eyes and his fast thrusting never faulted but instead intensified as he realised where he was hitting.

“I know you didn’t try to fucking run from me,” he comments sternly. For a second you feel yourself go numb. All you needed was a moment to collect yourself. It was far too much is what you tried telling him, begging for a semblance of a break.

“You ever try that shit on me again, I’ll tie you up,” He flips you over with a firm grip on your hip, pushing your legs up your ears. “Toji? Toji!” you whine in estxasy and his dick reach’s deep. “Wait! Toji, Please!”

“Please what, girl?”

You opened your mouth to speak , but before you could, he started moving again, impaling you on the hefty limb. He watched as your expressions contorted from bliss to shock, upon feeling a wet and slimy tongue between your toes. This man was nasty, downright sick, and you loved every second of it.

A fat thumb lingered down to the small bud, before rubbing vigorously, He watched as your moaning became high pitched and your hips bucked. Your stomach sucked itself in as you tried escaping his grasp, squirming in his nearly painful grips. “Oh my- Toji, Wait! I’m going to to-!”

Your loud plea was interrupted by an obscene squelch and a splashing ad a stream of juices left your sore cunt and aimed right for the mans chest. He jeers as he saw your o-face falling inlove even further. It didn’t take a while for him to pump you full of his thick hot cum, and it certainly didn’t take long for your fiance to get the picture Toji sent of him eating your used up and stuffed cunt out.

It also didn’t take long for Toji to send a video of him stuffing you again in full nelson this time, making you hold the phone.

It also didn’t take long for Toji to get in trouble again with the law. You too hadn’t seen each other since that eventful night and he couldn’t help but be grateful, for if you knew just how nasty he was, you would’ve killed him yourself and he wouldn’t blame you.

After the whole debacle was dealt with, he found himself yet again being arrested, and on the other side of the conjugal line was you. Sitting prettily in your work attire, brand new engagement ring sitting on your finger as you discussed his charges. “I miss you Y/N” he’d say. “I wonder what you’re up to these days,” he’d enquire, knowing full well, if he was free he wouldn’t have to.

And whether Toji turned himself in on purpose after everything he’s done just to see your bright face again, or whether it was a pure coincidence that he’d just so happened to be arrested for something he had gotten away with for so long, you had no idea.

All you knew is that you regretted that night.

Well, not entirely.

[vroom--vrooming]

Thief!Charles Leclerc x Cop!Reader

Let's just say Charles has a thing for the cop who wants to put him behind bars

The city was quiet as you walked through the shadows, investigating the latest in a series of robberies. You’d been assigned to this case for weeks, and the thief was elusive, clever, always managing to slip through the fingers of every cop on his trail. But you were determined to end this cat-and-mouse game. Tonight, you felt certain he’d make another appearance.

Then, there he was—Charles Leclerc. You spotted him, crouched by the window of a jewelry store, his face partially hidden by the darkness. His fingers moved skillfully, lock-picking with an ease that showed his experience. You took a step forward, and he sensed your presence, his head snapping up. When he saw you, his eyes widened, but not with fear; instead, a sly, amused smile appeared on his face.

“Well, this is a surprise,” he said smoothly, standing up and looking at you with open admiration. “And here I thought tonight would be boring.”

Your face stayed steady, unimpressed. “Charles Leclerc. You’ve been quite busy, haven’t you?” You moved closer, keeping your hand near the cuffs on your belt. You could feel his gaze sweep over you, studying every detail.

“Beautiful and smart,” he murmured, almost as if talking to himself. “They didn’t tell me they’d send someone like you.” His eyes sparkled with amusement, like he was enjoying every second of this.

You kept your gaze sharp, not letting his charm affect you. “Save it. You’re coming with me.”

He raised his hands in surrender, grinning. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of resisting someone like you,” he teased, his voice dripping with mischief as you cuffed his wrists.

During the drive to the station, Charles kept his eyes on you, a constant, unbreakable focus. “You know,” he started, leaning as far forward as his handcuffs would allow, “if I’d known my arresting officer would be this gorgeous, I would’ve let myself get caught a lot sooner.”

You rolled your eyes, keeping your focus on the road. “Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, Charles.”

“Maybe not, but I’m going to try anyway,” he replied, smirking. “Besides, I have to entertain myself somehow. And you’re definitely more fun than the others.”

At the station, as you processed him, he kept up his flirtation, watching you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Every answer he gave was laced with charm and wit, each attempt designed to get a reaction from you. But you stayed firm, keeping your cool, and this seemed to make him even more interested.

“So, Detective,” he said, signing the last form, “when will I see you again?”

You frowned, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at the way he looked at you. “Hopefully, you’ll be too busy serving time to see me again.”

But he just smiled, undeterred. “Oh, I wouldn’t count on that. I’m not one to stay away from beautiful people for long.”

A few days passed, and Charles was transferred to another facility. However, during the transport, he managed to escape, slipping away from custody without a trace. The news hit the station quickly, and though you felt a sense of frustration, you couldn’t help the small part of you that wondered if he would make another move.

The next evening, as you returned to your office, you found an envelope sitting on your desk. Inside was a note, handwritten in neat, confident script:

“Detective,

If you want to catch me, I’ll be at the old museum on 5th Avenue at midnight.

And if you’d like to grab a coffee afterward, I’ll be more than happy to oblige.

-Charles”

Your pulse quickened as you read it, his cocky tone shining through each word. He was daring you, inviting you to play his game.

***

You stood there for a moment, the note crinkling slightly in your hand as you read it again, just to be sure. Charles was taunting you, but there was something else in his words—a challenge. He wanted you there, not just because you were the cop assigned to catch him, but because he enjoyed the thrill, the game of it all. And somehow, he wanted you to be part of it.

As midnight approached, you made your way to the old museum on 5th Avenue. The street was deserted, the building dark and looming against the city’s skyline. You scanned the shadows, your senses heightened, trying to anticipate his next move.

Then you heard it—a quiet shuffle of footsteps coming from inside. You moved silently, slipping through the side entrance he’d likely left unlocked just for you. The museum was dark, the empty halls echoing with every sound. Then, near a display case in the middle of the room, you saw him.

Charles stood under a dim shaft of light, looking almost like he belonged there, a priceless artifact in the middle of the abandoned museum. He was relaxed, his posture casual as he glanced over his shoulder, spotting you the moment you entered.

“There you are,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t show.”

You stepped forward, keeping a steady gaze. “Did you really think I’d let you get away that easily?”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I was hoping. But I had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

You moved closer, careful to keep your expression neutral even as his gaze roamed over you, appreciative and admiring. “This isn’t a game, Charles,” you warned, though your pulse quickened with every step you took toward him.

“Isn’t it?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Because I think we’re both enjoying this a bit more than we’d like to admit.”

Before you could reply, he took a slow step forward, closing the distance between you. His eyes were fixed on yours, and for a moment, the air felt thick, electric. “You’re very good at your job,” he murmured, his voice low. “But I’m afraid you’re going to have to work a little harder to keep up with me.”

You felt a spark of determination at his words. “I’ve caught you once already. And I’ll do it again,” you replied confidently, raising an eyebrow.

Charles chuckled softly, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before he looked back up, meeting your eyes with that familiar glint. “I look forward to it,” he said, his voice warm, almost intimate.

With a swift, unexpected movement, he turned, slipping away from you and disappearing into the darkness of the museum. You moved to follow, but he was fast, each footstep echoing farther and farther away until you couldn’t hear him at all. He’d vanished into the night, leaving you with nothing but the note in your pocket and the memory of his flirtatious smile.

But as you left the museum, you found another slip of paper taped to the door outside. It was simple, written in his unmistakable handwriting:

“Until next time, Detective. Coffee’s still on the table.”

You couldn’t help the slight smile that crept onto your face, despite your best efforts to stay serious. You knew this wouldn’t be the last time he’d pull a stunt like this. He was making it clear that he wouldn’t go far, that he’d be waiting, ready to play the game whenever you were. And somehow, despite everything, you looked forward to it.

[milkyplier]

@skyward-floored made this post the other day and it gave me ideas. As it is 3,000 words long, I thought it’d be too long for a reblog, so here we are. Thank you for the inspiration, and I hope you like it, Peggy!! ❤️

Read the fic under the cut

“So, what was he like?” Warriors asks conversationally as he sits down before the fire, settling down to eat his dinner of rice.

Marin looks up from her own bowl and hums a questioning acknowledgment. “Mm?”

“You mentioned you knew another Link before.” Warriors shoves a spoonful of rice in his mouth. “What was he like?”

Marin nods, and ponders for a second, a dreamy glaze over her eyes. Warriors recognizes it in the other soldiers he talks to when they mention the loved ones they left behind. Marin opens her mouth as if to speak, the words still evading her for a moment. When they come, they’re wrapped tenderly in admiration and wistfulness.

“He was…like a dream. He was…he was everything I was missing. I told him that I wished I could fly, and he made me feel that I could. I told him I wanted to see the world, and he became it for me, and I saw him every day. His hands were rough and calloused, but he chose not to be calloused in character. He looked at me like I was everything, and he was smart and he was kind and you could see it all in his eyes. And those eyes, they were blue, bluer than the sea where it kisses the sky on the horizon.” She smiled, face turned towards the sky, mind far away from the campfire.

Warriors doesn’t know what to say. He’s heard a lot of people gush about their loved ones, but there is something about the way Marin speaks, careful and sure, that surprises him. He feels he shouldn’t be hearing this—like it was meant for her Link’s ears only, and he was eavesdropping. He’s saved the trouble of an initial response when Marin speaks again.

“I can still hear him so clearly. I can still feel his hair beneath my fingers. I remember him so well…but it all feels like a dream, I feel…that it all *was* a dream, im a way. And, verily, all dreams must come to an end. I wonder if he remembers me, and I wonder if he misses me as badly as I miss him. I’m sure he’s got better things to worry about. But…maybe that’s better. If I hurt this badly, I don’t want him to feel it at all. He told me stories of his past, and he’s lost so much and gained so little…it would be better if he didn’t remember me and was saved the pain of missing me. But then…I wish he did remember me. We loved each other…I hope he remembers me as fondly as I do him.” Marin looks at Warriors, browns eyes brimming with heartache. “Is that selfish?”

Her expression is pleading—silently begging for an answer Warriors is certain he has no business giving. But he can’t leave her hanging. He swallows.

“No. I don’t think it’s selfish. I think…I think he thinks the same thing. I think he lies awake at night, and thinks about you. I think he carries you with him everywhere, in a way, and I think that in a world full of gold and glory and titles, you are his greatest treasure. And I think it will always be that way, for him.”

The lapse in conversation is taken over by the crackle of the fire, and for a few minutes Warriors just watches the sparks curl up towards the night sky. Eventually, with a sniffle, Marin speaks again.

“You Links…you’re all the same, aren’t you?” She says with a watery laugh. “So caring and sensitive. You and him would have gotten along well.”

Warriors chuckles. “I’ll take your word for it.”

* * *

It’s Legend.

Warriors knows as soon as he meets him. They shake hands, and then Warriors finds himself staring into a pair of bright blue eyes.

Blue eyes, as blue as where the sea kisses the sky on the horizon.

They’re sharp, too, Warriors can see Legend taking in a thousand little details even in the brief second they make eye contact, and then introductions continue and Warriors is left reeling under the feeling of having met a ghost.

Later, he talks himself off that ledge. He’s paranoid—as soon as he heard they were all named Link, he’d been on the lookout. He was just paranoid, looking for the first guy who matched Marin’s description, when it was an unrealistic endeavor anyways. Marin hadn’t mentioned any defining physical traits—all the Links had blue eyes, the same blue eyes, in fact, and calloused hands. Everything else had been regarding his character, the way he treated her and made her feel. And Warriors definitely wasn’t getting any first-hand examples of those.

As the weeks go by and Warriors gets to know them all, he ignores the insistent instinct that Marin’s lover is Legend and instead analyses everyone else. And they all fall epically and tragically short. Wind was talkative and never mentioned a Marin, despite telling plenty of stories all staged at sea, and if Warriors was understanding things correctly, Wind was close to a pirate girl named Tetra. Nothing romantic, per se, but everything about Wind simply had the wrong…vibe. That was all Warriors could really argue. Since Marin never mentioned physical traits, it could have been any of them, really, leaving Warriors main method of deduction as whatever his gut was feeling.

Wild ruled himself out with his own Zelda, and most of his story came out fairly early in their journey and no Marin was ever mentioned. Twilight spoke of a girl who had broken his heart, and his melancholy demeanor didn’t match the wistful longing Warriors thought he should have had. Sky was happily courting, Hyrule much too shy, and Four too active and analytical.

Warriors briefly thought it could be Time—he spoke of his wife with utmost adoration. But then they met her, and although Warriors was surprised at her strange likeness to Marin, knew it definitely wasn’t Time.

Which left, as Warriors had originally and always known, Legend. And it only grew more obvious as the time passed.

He guessed exactly who Time married, because he loved someone near the same. He could be snarky and bold when he talked to them, ruthless and calculated in a fight, but Warriors saw the way he interacted with kids and people in the villages they stayed at or passed through. It was as if he’d flipped a switch, and suddenly he was the gentlest and softest person Warriors had ever met. Meeting him in person strengthens the way Marin had described him—hands rough and calloused by his past and traumas, but he chose purposely not to let it sour his character. And he did it all at the ripe age of 18.

All of this, of course, fell into place weeks after their initial meeting, and when it finally did Warriors was left with an entirely new problem: getting Legend to confirm it.

He knew in his heart, sure, that Legend was in fact the Link Marin had loved so deeply. But he could only be 99% sure. That last one percent would come as soon as Legend mentioned her, but Warriors is impatient to wait for it to happen organically. But he also doesn’t want to just walk up to him and mention it—he respects Legend, sure, but that isn’t enough to bridge the gap of familiarity. It isn’t enough to explain the awful feeling Warriors has. It isn’t enough to cover the possibility—probability—that if Warriors is too impatient, it could lead to insensitivity and the last thing Warriors wants to do is dredge up bad memories when Legend is caught in a place where he can’t run.

Ultimately, Warriors can only wait. No matter how anxious he is, he places his money on the goddesses having everything planned out already, and his chance will come when it comes. Which it does, and sooner than the Captain expected.

Months have passed since they first met, and the group has grown much closer. Close enough to rifle through each other’s things, poke and prod at other, compete for largest scar and in general, act very much like brothers. And Warriors has grown to consider them so; in a way he never has with anyone else, Warriors loves them as if they are all of the same flesh and blood. And after that, his mission is no longer delivering one last message. It is giving his brother a vital piece of information. He no longer owes it to him because of Marin or out of perceived obligation. He owes it to him because to keep it to himself would be to lie to his brother.

Well. Maybe not directly, but still. It would feel like lying.

Thus, one warm and humid evening somewhere in Time’s Hyrule, deep in some woods somewhere, when Legend stands up and stretches and declares he’s going on patrol, Warriors jumps straight the chance to accompany him. The silence is peaceable at first, and the two heroes walk through the woods, eyes peeled and ears open for any sign of monsters. The camp noises fade far behind them, replaced by the sounds of a forest preparing for bed. It’s broken when Legend stops abruptly.

“What?” Warriors asks, stopping too and looking around. “Did you see something?”

“What do you want?”

Warriors stops and looks at Legend. “What?”

“What do you want?” Legend repeats, eyes boring into Warriors’ soul. They betray no sign of hostility or wariness, and neither does Legend’s tone. It’s short and to the point. “I can tell you’ve got something on your mind. You have since we first met. I thought you must have recognized me, but I know I’ve never seen you before in my life. So what is it?”

Warriors blinks. Damn, the kid is perceptive. He struggles to find the words, everything sounding too soon, too indifferent, too harsh. Shouldn’t there have been a more gentle lead up to this? Then again, Warriors has no idea how he would have achieved that, either.

“Spit it out,” Legend says impatiently. “I’m not a little kid, I can take it. Are you mad I smeared mud on your face the other day? Because if that’s the case I’m not apologizing, I was perfectly justified—“

“Marin.” Warriors says, and Legend’s jaw snaps shut. His whole body stiffens, something flickers in his eyes—good natured annoyance turns to fear, ever so briefly, before he relaxes again. He’s deadly calm now, attention completely on Warriors. He doesn’t say anything, so Warriors keeps going.

“I met a girl during the war. Her name was Marin. She had red hair and a blue and purple dress and she could sing like no one else. When we met, and I told her my name, she smiled and said that she knew a Link, once. That was you, wasn’t it?”

Legend nods stiffly. Warriors hesitates. Again, words evade him. Legend doesn’t care.

“That’s not everything.” His voice is almost monotone. “Tell me.”

Warriors opens his mouth. No words come out.

“Captain.” It’s harsh this time, almost anxious. “Say it.”

“…She’s gone.”

* * *

“Spit it out. I’m not a little kid, I can take it. Are you mad I smeared mud on your face the other day? Because if that’s the case I’m not apologizing, I was perfectly justified—“

“Marin.”

Legend hates the cold shock that shudders through his whole body when Warriors says it. He forces himself to stay calm, taking a deep breath and exhaling through his nose. His silence prompts Warriors to continue.

“I met a girl during the war. Her name was Marin. She had red hair and a blue and purple dress and she could sing like no one else. When we met, and I told her my name, she smiled and said that she knew a Link, once. That was you, wasn’t it?”

Legend nods. He can tell that isn’t what Warriors wanted to tell him. Not all of it, anyway.

“That’s not everything. Tell me.”

Silence.

“Captain.” He feels the faint tendrils of desperation prickling at his heart. “Say it.”

“…She’s gone.”

Legend doesn’t understand at first. Maybe, unconsciously, he doesn’t want to understand.

“What? Of course she is. She…she has been, for awhile now, and she clearly isn’t here—“

“Legend. She’s dead.”

There’s no way he can misunderstand that. He can’t feel the rest of his body. He just keeps standing there, staring hardly at Warriors’ face.

“What.”

“She…she died, Legend. I’m sorry. She fought long and hard, but ultimately the enemy overtook her. She didn’t…she didn’t even have a chance.”

Legend keeps staring at him for a second, and then he shifts his gaze to the ground. He feels sick. He’s shaky and weak, and after a minute, he just sits down.

Warriors knew Marin during his war. Which meant she survived. Somehow, she had survived Koholint, even though it was a dream.

And then she died in that war.

The irony. It’s so ironic, in a sick and twisted way, he can taste it. Uncalled for, a chuckle escapes him, and then a soft laugh, and then he’s just cackling outright, loud, humorless laughter because of course she survived. Of course the Windfish would spare her, of course Legend find that out in an information of her death somewhere else.

Of course Legend would only find out that he didn’t kill her after she had died at someone else’s hand.

He laughs, and he laughs, and he laughs until Warriors is shaking his shoulders and telling him to snap out of it. He does his best, but ultimately all he can do is grasp Warriors’ forearms and look into his eyes, still chuckling breathlessly.

“…Of course.” He says. Warriors looks genuinely afraid of what Legend will say next. “Of course, the goddesses would let me blame myself. Of course they would let me spend all this time hating myself, until they knew there was no way she could distract me.”

Warriors is visibly confused. “What?”

“That’s got to be it…right? There’s nothing…I don’t know why else they would do this. How…could I be so damn unlucky? I’ve lost her twice. How do I keep doing this?” He laughs again, but when it fades out he’s too short of breath and his eyes burn. Scalding tears sear his cheeks, and he doesn’t know if he’ll survive how badly his heart hurts. Not again.

Warriors shifts to tuck him completely against his chest, holding him tightly, as if he could absorb the pain somehow.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into Legend hair. “I’m so sorry.”

* * *

Legend cries for a long time, and violently enough that Warriors wonders if he’s getting enough air. They’re incredibly vulnerable here, and when Warriors hears something approaching through the woods, he jumps up and very nearly stabs Wolfie as he jumps through the bushes. Wild is close behind him, and once Warriors knows it’s just them he returns to Legend.

“Whoa!” Wild yelps softly as he sees Warriors gathers the limp and unyielding Veteran into a bridal carry. “Is he—“

“He’s not injured.” Warriors assures him, shifting his hold on Legend so it’s more comfortable for them both. “He just heard some pretty shocking news and it hit hard.”

Wild nods, understanding immediately and offering no further inquiries.

“You guys have been gone so long we started to worry. Supper’s way past over and we were about to get ready for bed when we realized you hadn’t returned, so we split up and went searching,” Wild explains his sudden appearance.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” Warriors apologizes sincerely.

“It’s alright. Just as long as no one’s hurt.”

The walk back is silent, and Warriors has never been so glad to see bed rolls surrounding a campfire. Legend isn’t asleep, but he’s sluggish and almost unresponsive. Wild digs his bed roll from his bag while Warriors coaxes him to at least take off his boots, and then as soon as he’s tucked into his bed roll, he’s asleep. Warriors, searching to offer a little bit more comfort, undoes his scarf and lays it over the Veteran like a blanket. He doesn’t know that it will actually do much in the way of support, but it makes him feel better so he leaves it.

Warriors himself stays awake until every searching member of the chain has returned, just to explain what took them so long. Any anger at the inconvenient scare dissipates upon hearing how it came to be, and seeing the Veteran curled up in his bed roll. Arguably, they can’t really tell by his face that he’s been distressed—but the fact that he was already asleep when they all got back, and that he remained asleep throughout the remainder of bedtime prep, spoke for itself. Even though Warriors didn’t say exactly what Legend was told, the weight of the situation falls on them all, and except to establish watches, no more words are spoken for the rest of the night.

* * *

Not a word passes Legend’s lips for a week. His mood seems to shift through the days; at first he is almost angry, going everywhere and about everything with a hard purpose, refusing to let his emotions get the better of him. And then one day, he loses that battle as soon as he wakes up, and is the last one for the rest of the week. The last one to get out of bed, the last one to pack up, the last one to start and the last one to stop.

The others do their best to accommodate him, no matter how much time they lose. They can tell he’s trying, even when he’s too tired to. They’ve all been there, in some way, at some point in time. They all give him space, they do their best to silently convey that they’re there for him when he wants to reach out.

Everyone, that is, save Wind. And it is Wind, surprisingly, who breaks him out of it all.

He’s annoying, at first, sticking to Legend’s side like glue and chattering away at every hour of the say. Legend comes very close to strangling him more than once, but that all fades with the anger. The week continues, and Wind’s constant talking fills the silence, the lighthouse on the hill during a storm. He doesn’t realize it until later, but Wind was always helping hold him together. His every story, his every mundane topic was all meant to keep Legend from getting trapped in his own head. From forgetting the feeling of grass beneath his boots and the sound of his brothers as they all walked on.

An evening almost seven days exactly from that first, Legend is sitting in front of the fire, leaned against a log. Wind sits on the log next to him. For the first time in a week, the Sailor is quiet, and not because his mouth is full of food. Then,

“What was she like?”

The question is a violent shift from anything else Wind had said before. His cheery, story-telling tone is gone, replaced instead with tentativeness. It’s soft and curious, worried he’s overstepped. Legend glances around the fire, and the rest of the Chain has all stopped. There’s some tension as they wait for Legend’s response, unsure if he’ll answer or if it will have a negative effect. Legend’s eyes settled back on the fire and he sighs.

“She was my everything.” He looks at Wind, who is watching him with rapt attention. “You would have liked her.”

He doesn’t know what else to say. Words can’t really describe her, anyways.

“Could she sing?” Wind asks. Legend nods.

“Yes, she could sing.”

“What did she look like?”

“…She had red hair, and big brown eyes, and she could get anything out of me with those eyes.”

Wind laughs. “She sounds like Malon.”

Legend smiles. “She was a lot like Malon. Of Malon were a goddess, they’d be almost the same.” He looks at Time. “No offense, Old Man.”

“None taken,” Time says softly, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

A comfortable silence settles over the camp for a few moments.

“She once asked me if it was selfish of her to hope you remembered her.” Warriors says suddenly. “I said it wasn’t.”

Legend nods again. “You were right.” He looks up at the unfamiliar stars, and wonders if she now knows he never forgot.

[shunin-gumis]

Christmas Panic! Part 1

A Fragment of Happiness

Yet another Nagishuu card, I stay winning. Please read this adorable and heartwarming story!

Thank you aca and myun for proofreading!

Location: Downtown HAMA

Momiji: (Let’s see… I think I’ve bought everything I need.)

Momiji: (Oh wait, I still need to get presents for my family…)

Momiji: (What should I get them…? I’ve already bought souvenirs from HAMA too many times to count…) 

Momiji: Oh, I know!

Location: Flower Laundry

*bell chimes*

Momiji: Good evening—

Momiji: (Woah, the place is packed!)

Nagi and Sonia: Welcome!

Nagi: Oh, Chief, what brings you here?

Momiji: Erm, I was planning to get some presents for my family and—

Gyaru Customer: ‘Scuuuuse me! I’ve got some Q’s on how to get this sweater cleaned!

Dandy Customer: I’ve come to get the bouquet I ordered, is it ready yet?

Sonia: Y-Yesh! Just a moment, we’ll be right with you~!

*Nagi and Sonia flit about the store*

Momiji: (Compared to how quiet it normally is, the place is a total battleground today…!)

Nagi: Sorry, I’ll have to get the details from you later. Would you mind waiting upstairs? Help yourself to anything from the fridge.

Momiji: How about I help you down here instead?

Nagi: Huh?

Momiji: You know how seriously I take hospitality… Jokes aside, I can see how overwhelmed the two of you are, and I’m free today so… How about it?

Nagi: Are you my saviour…? I could really use a hand, or a paw, maybe even a finger, but… I don’t want to bother you on your day off… 

Momiji: Well, I’ve only got the two hands… Besides, you’ll be paying me back by helping me pick out presents later.

Nagi: …Okay. Thank you. For starters, would you mind getting the large shopping bag from the backroom and handing it to the customer over there?

Momiji: The one who requested a bouquet, right? Leave it to me! Let me know whatever else you need help with!

Nagi: You’re a lifesaver. I’ll be counting on you.

~~~

Momiji: (Phew… How long has it been? Looks like the crowd’s thinned out considerably by now.)

Momiji: (Still…)

Momiji: (I wonder what that powder I spotted on the table in the backroom was… It didn’t look like something that belonged at a florist’s…)

Nagi: Chief, thank you for all your help today. You really saved us.

Momiji: Nagi-kun! Think you’ve got a handle on it now?

Nagi: Yep. It’s always this busy around this time of year. We get a huge influx of orders as Christmas approaches… 

Nagi: But well… Today was worse than usual. Sonia and I would’ve crashed and burned by now if it weren’t for your help.

Momiji: Ahaha, glad I could help. But this is one of those struggles that are worth it, huh?

Momiji: Right, there was something I wanted to ask you about.

Nagi: What is it?

Momiji: I spotted some kind of silky-looking powder in the backroom that I’d never seen before… So I was wondering, what’s it for?

Momiji: (It vaguely smelled like soap…)

Nagi: ! T-That’s… 

Nagi: That’s, um… Right. It’s a kind of fertilizer for flowers. I’m trying to make a new variety that can um, cheer up the flowers. Yeah. That’s it.

Momiji: I see…? I didn’t know you worked on those kinds of things too. You’re amazing, Nagi-kun.

Nagi: …… 

Nagi: R-Right, I didn’t get to ask you why you came here yet. You wanted to get something for your family?

Momiji: Oh, right! I’ll be meeting up with my family soon, so I was wondering what presents I should get for them.

Momiji: I thought it’d be nice to change things up a bit by getting them something with flowers!

Momiji: I figured you’re the best person to ask for all things flowers, so here I am.

Nagi: I see. Of course, I can help you with that.

Nagi: Oh but… Considering you’d have to hold onto them for quite some time, it might be difficult to carry around fresh flowers… 

Nagi: They tend to get damaged quite easily during travel.

Sonia: (Sho he says, but he’s always packing his luggage full with flowers every time he goesh on a trip… Maybe that’s shomething only a professional florist can pull off…)

Momiji: I guess it’s a no-go then… 

Nagi: Don’t worry, I have some ideas. But the shop’s still— 

Sonia: I heard the whole thing! 

Sonia: I can handle the shop for the rest of the day. Nagi-shan, you should help the Chief inshtead!

Nagi: Thank you, Sonia.

Nagi: Let’s go, Chief. Here’s your helmet.

Momiji: Huh!? Where are we going…?

Part 2

[daycourtofficial]

Personal update below

Tw: pregnancy loss, miscarriage, blood

Here it is, the words I’ve been unable to type, much less say out loud. Late in the night a few nights ago, I woke up to some abdominal cramping and went to the bathroom. I had been bleeding vaginally all day, but not enough to be super concerned.

I woke up and went to the bathroom, and knew something was wrong. To spare the details, I was bleeding a lot, cramping severely, and I knew my baby was gone. I felt empty inside, despite only being about 7 or 8 weeks pregnant. Intuition, I suppose. I just felt so lonely, as if I wasn’t supposed to be the only occupant in my body.

My husband took me to the hospital and after hours of invasive poking, prodding, and testing, a nurse practitioner I will likely never see again, who will likely never think of me again, told me that my baby was gone. He was straight forward, which I like in medical personnel. He told me my pregnancy was unviable and that it’s common. That we shouldn’t worry. These things happen. It’s normal, common. The three or so minutes felt like an eternity, waiting for him to leave so I could fall apart in the privacy of my husband’s arms, despite the lack of privacy an emergency department offers.

The hospital was so sterile, the bright lights and lack of windows made it impossible for you to track the passage of time. The winding hallways a maze of monotony, making it impossible to know how to return to your room without a guide. The walls were devoid of any real color, save for tv screens and workplace posters. And yet, the room I was placed in was the only room with decorative curtains. All the other curtains were just a shade of navy.

Mine had flowers on it, as if the world or God or the hospital wanted to offer me some reprieve, some reminder that for the hospital, this was routine, but that it wasn’t routine for me. That I deserved something for my eyes to find comfort in.

So here it is, the new reality I find myself in. My baby is gone. The rare statement that, once it becomes true, will never change.

I’m reeling a bit from this loss, as you can imagine. I’m gutted. I got married right at the beginning of the year, falling pregnant not long after. I joked with my husband that I started the year off becoming a wife and was ending the year becoming a mom. I suppose it really was just a joke in the end, but I’m not sure if the punchline was me or my continued optimism, in spite all that I’ve endured.

Anyway, everyone was extraordinarily kind to me when I had posted that I was pregnant. I know that technically I don’t owe anyone details of my personal life, especially not this personal, but I wanted to share it because I don’t want to be sad and alone. And perhaps this will find its way to someone else who has felt some loss recently, whether it be the loss of someone or something, or a loss of self or identity, or a loss of the future you had planned out. Maybe they will feel some connection to this. Or maybe one day someone will think of this as they reel with their own loss.

I don’t regret sharing the news so early, despite the circumstances that have now led me to making this post. Any joy we can find is worth sharing, even if it’s fleeting, especially if it’s fleeting, and even if it’s for some stranger on the internet.

Anyway, I have my dogs and my husband, who are very loving. I’m not sure when I’ll post this, I’ll likely stick it in my queue somewhere so it feels less like I’m hitting the ‘post’ button and more like softly whispering all of this in the wind.

I will be okay, I always am. Grief is a black hole I am trying navigate and figure out where it ends and I begin, trying to remember what my new life will be like and how to grieve yet another version of myself lost to time and trauma and sadness.

There is no narrative device here, nothing I did could’ve changed the outcome. Sometimes the world is just needlessly cruel.

This doesn’t really affect anything on here or what I choose to interact with. I’m still okay discussing/reading/writing about babies and kids and everything in that realm. I just didn’t want anyone asking after the baby and making someone feel bad for wanting to know how I was doing.

Anyway, I don’t want to end this on a despairing note, even though that is the tune of my life at the moment. I want to remember that my now is not my forever, and I hope anyone reading this that is experiencing any manner of suffering takes as much out of that sentiment as I do.

Yours,

V ❤️

[moochalove]

Last Nights Mistakes and New Beginnings (Pt. 2)

(yandere!kazuha x pregnant!reader x scaramouche)

Another part finished!!! This kinda scratches my brain but i need more…. so expect a part 3….

i got into some darker themes and I intend to keep them around so please be warned.

word count: idk but it’s pretty long 🗣️

not proofread 😋

TW: panic attacks, yandere themes, implied noncon but nothing detailed

Rolling over to stretch you notice the sun seeping through your curtains. Ah, that’s right, he’s still here. Well you suppose it wouldn’t hurt to drop him off wherever he needed to be, then come back and sleep some more. With one last stretch you stumble out of bed, heading to the living room you notice Scara curled up with the blankets surrounding him. He even sleeps weirdly….. You stop and think for a moment, should you wake him up? Or should you just let him sleep longer…

“It’s not nice to stare, Y/n.”

Cutoff from your thoughts you take a few steps back, eyes settling back down onto his now awake figure. “S-sorry, I was just trying to figure out whether to wake you or not- I…” Rubbing his eyes he throws the blankets off of himself. “Yeah yeah, save it.”

And you thought you were cranky when woken up early, huh.

“I’ll give you some time to get ready.” Turning on your heel you walk back to your personal bathroom wanting to wash up quickly, “By the way, hope you slept well.” You weren’t sure why you were inclined to say that. Shrugging it off you leave him to gather his stuff. Scara, on the other hand was taken aback by the comment. Was he a flustered? Maybe. Surprised? Definitely. Was he gonna reciprocate the act somehow? Hell no, it’s not like he owes you anything! Nope, nothing at all! Huffing he folds up the blanket before placing it back in the basket.

While reaching down he notices a funny looking book, “How to prepare for motherhood!” Did your sister leave it here? He was curious to ask you more questions but it definitely wasn’t his place. Shrugging he ignores it and tosses the somewhat neatly folded blanket onto the book.

Coming out of the bathroom your face was freshly clean, teeth: brushed, hair: combed, contacts in if needed. You were dressed casually, but still wearing a baggy shirt so no one would notice your baby bump. Grabbing your keys you jangle them around before teasing, “let’s go drop the baby off~!” “Ugh, as if!” his face is slightly red and churned. He combs his hand through his hair- you are reminded of a certain someone by this singular action.

Staring at him your mind floods back positively bad feelings. The way he treated you oh so gently, like a porcelain doll that would crack under too much pressure. And the way he pleased you like a lover should. As if he’d been a starving man and you, his first meal- but it seems you were just a side dish- an appetizer before the real meal he could ravish any other day.

Scaramouche stared back at you a little distraught, “Oh my g- What is it now? You look like a deer in headlights.” He’s already poking your face and shaking you slightly.

Your mind is retelling you the events of that night at a pace you can’t even comprehend. The tight feeling in the head that hurts so much yet feels hollow and empty is telling you something’s wrong but you haven’t been caught up to speed yet-

“Hey, this isn’t funny! What’s wrong?” he sounds genuinely concerned.

Once your mind starts running at a pace you can’t imagine, it starts linking certain events of your life together like it’s some tragic movie. A horrible one at that.

Scara is shaking you now he’s practically begging you to snap out of it. Oh, how you would laugh at the way he’s begging, the way he’s actually concerned. You wouldn’t think someone like him had it in him.

By the time you regain consciousness you’re lying on the couch with an ice pack on your head with a straw attached to a bottle of water. Trying to move and get up at the sudden reminder that you were supposed to drop Scara off you shoot up only for your head to pound in return, “Ow… what the f-“ this action causes you to lay back down.

Scara is practically inches away from you, eyes wide with relief and a small smile plastered on his dumb looking face. “You’re awake! I was sooooo- um..” he quickly backs off with a sigh, “I was just getting tired of being here, was just about to call someone to come pick me up. But it seems sleeping beauty has finally woken up!”

“What the hell happened?” you reach to hold your head, slowly recounting the events that led up to a blank space in your mind. Your face scrunches up, realizing you had a panic attack in front of Scaramouche…. You contemplated on telling him the truth of making up some random bullshit. Both of you look like you’re about to say something, “So-“ “I’m-“, with a small chuckle of you both wait to see who will speak first.

“I just wanted to say that i’m.. I’m sorry for whatever that was earlier. I don’t know what came over me. Perhaps I didn’t get enough sleep.” Your words trail off and your ears start to feel a little warm. “It’s okay, Y/n, I-I was worried about you, you know?” Scaramouche trailed his last words, looking off at some painting you have hanging up on your wall, “Anyways… I’m not too sure what happened with you but it’s none of my business so don’t try n explain yourself because I really don’t care ,” you could only feel a little guilty and embarrassed but you nodded along, “Let’s go grab some dinner.” Huh? Why did he wanna get dinner? Perhaps he felt bad about what he said? Oh well, it’s free food! Surely you would need to replenish all your engere after this whole ordeal. Plus, you needed to stay healthy so the growing life within you can stay alive and healthy.

You’re hit with a sudden realization that you’re not wearing an oversized shirt or sweater of some sort. Had he removed it in attempt to see if there was something physically wrong? Like a wound of some sort? Okay- maybe if you get up slow enough he surely won’t notice? right? RIGHT? Just act natural- slow and steady does it! Or do you just look awkward slowly rising? Hit with a sudden way of embarrassment you shoot up before turning to run to your room to change, “O-oh no…. I forgot my phone… in my room… haha… i’ll be back….!” slamming the door behind you you’re sliding the oversized hoodie on and grabbing your phone then putting some casual slip-ons. When you walk out you notice the previous hoodie folded up to where you were laid.

“O-okay! let’s go!” He can tell you’re still frazzled just by the way you’re so inconsistent with your actions and moods. Maybe it was just “that time of the month” for you. Scara knows how scary women can become during that time. It’s best if he just ignores it and goes along like nothings wrong, lest you end up berating him like his sister did that one time.

The car ride was silent, only asking where he wanted to eat and some small talk.

When your food comes out, piping hot and steaming, you’re fighting the urge to cool it the best you can before shoving it in your mouth, very well knowing that choice would result in a burnt tongue, and the roof of your mouth scorched. Scaramouche on the other hand- he’s taking his time cutting the food up into nice bite-sized pieces, although you see he’s also fighting the urge to scarf down uncut meat that’s laid on his plate. You both hadn’t eaten all day after all so of course you’re making an excessive amount of noise with exaggerated huffs and puffs, blowing your food cold. The way you’re both chugging your drinks down. I’m sure you would both regret ordering the amount of drinks you did when the bill is shown.

Both of you stare at each other while the bill sits in the middle of the pile of plates that would soon be taken away.

“Well, I take this is your treat? Of course for making me stay longer than I wanted to-“ before he can finish you’re cutting him off with a overdramatic voice, “Oh thank you! I’m so relieved knowing that you are paying tonight!” He can only scoff, he’s using an unopened straw and pushing towards you. Your face churns as you can practically feel your hairs popping out but you still put on a cocky smile, “I’m sure you’re well aware of what you just did? Whoever comes in contact with the bill must pay-“ “IT WASNT DIRECT CONTACT!” With another overdramatized action you’re pulling out your wallet with a slight ‘sigh’. All the while Scara is watching joyfully.

On the way back to the car you get a phone call.

Maybe it was a work related issue? Not wanting to risk it being an important call you answered it.

What happened next you could’ve never anticipated would happen.

All you really remember was that the call consisted of Kazuha, who was clearly drunk, and busying himself with a woman as you could hear giggles, moans and whimpers coming from himself and the other participant. He claimed you left with Scaramouche and he was still with you. Claiming how he must’ve left with you, since he went missing after you both got kicked out, and how he never came back to their shared apartment. The way he kept reiterating that he “wasn’t upset, just disappointed” I mean, he wasn’t wrong- you did leave with him but it’s not like you guys did anything? It scared you a bit how controlling he was trying to be even though you weren’t even in a relationship with him. The last thing he said before he hung up was that he would be over soon and that he didn’t want to hear any excuses. It scared you even more how he kept his calm and collected demeanor up. If it weren’t for the context you’re sure you’d be excited to see him.

Scaramouche is already waiting in the car, growing impatient by the second. Once you sit down your mind starts to slowly pick up the pace. What do you do? He said he would be there soon? How soon? Was he just planning to talk it out? Was he worried about his friend? Should you be honest? What if- A hand placed on your shoulder snaps you from thoughts. “Knock it off. You’re doing that thing again.” Hah, it was obvious that you were freaking out. Taking a deep breath you start to explain the situation. By the time you get halfway through explaining Scara is urging you to drop him off at his house and for you to get home and lock up, or go to a friends house.

The car ride was… something to say the least…. Speeding when nobody was around then acting like normal law-abiding citizens the next second.

Tires screech loudly from when you slammed on the brakes. Scara practically went flying and hit the window. He’s unbuckling the once neglected seatbelt, before he you exchange numbers in case anything happens, like if he needs to contact the authorities if you can’t. Stumbling to the backyard to sneak in. You, on the other hand, you’re speeding back home on the back roads. You had planned on parking inside the garage and locking up. From what Scara had told you, every now and then Kazuha will get absolutely wasted and make the worst decisions possible.

Also mentioning that ever since his friend’s death he’s been a lot more controlling of certain people. Like apparently one time he was so invested in the woman he was practically bat-shit-crazy over her, tracking her every move, monitoring who she spoke with, what she wore, and even some of her actions. Once she had enough and wanted a break from him he let her go, surprisingly he let her go, but soon after she was allegedly admitted to a mental hospital. Surely these are just rumors, right? There’s no way that someone like sweet and caring Kazuha would actually be like this? Right?

Once you’re parked you’re heading inside and locking everything up. One thing you should’ve did was let a friend know of the situation but it totally slipped your mind.

You decide to wait it out in your room. Laying on your back and gently rubbing your stomach, “It’s okay. Mommy is gonna be okay. So please, don’t worry..” Your skin is stretching every day, it’s an uncomfortable process but a needed change. It’s not like anyone was gonna see your body again after this. Nope, the one time you drop the “strong independent young woman destined to be the next ceo act” you end up pregnant, and the father also happens to be a sleazy alcoholic who was also crazy.

You could feel the sorrow in your heart. Eventually, you would have to tell your child that he shouldn’t be the kind of man his father was. Well, that can be something you worry about in the far distant future, for now you just gotta keep him alive and well.

There’s a gentle knock at the door.

You just have to wait it out.

It turns louder, more impatient.

It’s now a loud pounding. You can hear your name being called gently despite the knock being the opposite.

•

•

•

It stopped. Maybe he’s finally regained his composure and is willing to give up. Huh? Is the door know rattling? Really? Is he really trying to do what you think he’s doing? Crap. You don’t have enough time to hide.

Once the door swings open you’re locking your bedroom door and reach for your phone. Hell. you need help. Oh god. He’s already at the door, rattling the door handle and banging on the door. You’ve barely opened the keypad. You’re frantically tapping the screen.

Once the call goes through you feel as if you’ve been saved! Surely they’ll come help!

A hand is placed over your mouth firmly, “Ah, i’m so sorry, it seems my girlfriend’s sister dialed this number! Yes. I assure you everything is alright! No, no need to send someone over. I understand, we’ll give her a thorough talking. Thank you.”

Once you hear the call end your blood runs cold. You want to scream and make a break for the door but you’re not sure if you can make it.

Kazuha lets out a huff before combing through his hair, “I wish you would just talk to me, Y/n. I wish you would just listen.” He tosses the phone off into some corner before he’s pushing you down on the mattress.

You try protesting to his attempts to undress you, yelling at him saying he’s drunk and that he’s being delusional. It seems to go through one ear out the other, he’s not listening. But his calm and lover-like demeanor is present all the while. He’s kissing you gently and whispering sweet nothings in your ear, he’s feeling up and down your body, squeezing whatever his hands can grab. You hate how he’s acting like he didn’t do anything wrong. You want to scream and disappear from the face of the earth, hoping to never see his face again.

Kissing your neck seems to draw you from your thoughts, “My sweet little princess, be honest with me. What did you do with him?” you gulp nervously (or is it from fear?) you reply, “After we got kicked out, I dropped him off at his moms place. I swear baby- we didn’t do anything. It’s not him I love, it’s you!” oh how you wished to rip your tongue out and scrub it clean. With a ‘tsk’ Kazuha is starting to fiddle with his pants, “I already told you to not make excuses. Please, sweetheart, just tell me what you did and i’ll forgive you.” Covering your face, hiding your eyes, threatening to spill unwanted tears you try refuting but he seems to stuck on the idea you “cheated” even though you did nothing wrong.

The rest of the night is another blurry one, but not from the alcohol, from unwanted memories. From that day on you tell yourself you’re gonna take a break from work and fly home to spend the rest of your pregnancy with your family. Sure it seemed irresponsible and you didn’t exactly have the funds for it but you’re sure once you tell your parents your situation they’ll understand and lend a helping hand.

•

•

•

Scaramouche on the other hand, he’s sitting in his younger self’s bedroom, everything is outdated to his likings now but some things remain to what he still enjoys. A cracked phone lays before him, wondering if he should call to see if you’re alright, perhaps the situation has changed? Biting the skin of his inner cheek he decided against it, ultimately deciding to call in a few days.

Fiddling with the cheap metal rings on his fingers his mind keeps wandering back to the idea of you. Had you really caught his interest? You? Of all people? Pfft, as if some lowly scum such as yourself could dare to invade his mind! Yet, here you are. The way you laugh, your smile, your everything. It truly captivated him.

He thinks back to how you both practically agreed to take care of your new baby, Meowmeow. Hopefully you would be able to feed her tonight. He needs to consult his mother about his new cat so he can get all the finical support he needs. Although he’s sure she’ll just flash him a dumb smile saying, “Oh, such a silly thing to want to invest in. Well, it’s not like you ask for much so i’ll be a good mom and help my son!” or at least something along those lines.

His mind also plagued him with not so happy thoughts, like the idea of you truly disliking him and pushing him away. Maybe revoking his rights to care for your stray animal and shutting him out forever. No use in worrying about it now, it’d be best to do something else for now. Even when his mind would slip in images of you here and there. Oh well, it’s not like he didn’t mind.

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Parings → Nathan Drake x Reader

Warnings → jealousy

Summary → Nate's jealous of you because Sully praises you more than him.

(gif not mine)

The sound of jungle birds and rustling leaves filled the air as you trudged through the dense underbrush, the humidity sticking your clothes to your skin. You wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand, glancing ahead to where Nathan Drake was several paces in front.

Ever since Sully had brought you onto this expedition, Nate had been nothing but difficult. He’d barely spoken a word to you, and when he did, it was sharp and condescending. You didn’t know what his problem was—one minute, you were working just fine together, and the next, he acted like you were his biggest inconvenience.

You tried to brush it off, focus on the job, but it was getting harder to ignore the tension between you two. Especially when it seemed like he hated you for no reason.

“Hey,” Nate called out suddenly, his voice cutting through the humid air. “You planning to take your time all day, or do you actually want to find the treasure?”

You clenched your jaw, stopping in your tracks to glare at him. “I’m going as fast as I can, Drake. If you’ve got a problem, maybe you should go ahead without me.”

He rolled his eyes, stepping near you. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just leave you to trip another trap, and then I’ll have to save your ass again.”

Your fingers curled into fists. “I can handle myself just fine, thank you.”

He snorted. “Could’ve fooled me. Sully sure seems to think you’re the best thing since sliced bread, though.”

Ah. There it was. The real reason behind his attitude. Sully had been praising you since the start of this expedition, always complimenting your resourcefulness, your sharp eye for detail. It seemed to have gotten under Nate’s skin, and instead of just telling you, he decided to be a jerk about it.

“You’re jealous,” you realized, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sully’s impressed with me, and it pisses you off.”

Nate’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re just some rookie who got lucky on a few jobs.”

You scoffed. “Yeah? Then why do you keep acting like I’m stealing your spotlight?”

His face twisted into something frustrated, and for a moment, you thought he was going to snap at you. But instead, he turned away, muttering, “Forget it. Let’s just get moving.”

“No.” You stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “You’ve been treating me like crap ever since I got here, and I want to know why. What’s your problem with me?”

Nate let out a bitter laugh, but there was something strained in it, something vulnerable. “You really want to know? Fine. Sully hasn’t stopped talking about how great you are, how you’re a natural at this, and I’m tired of hearing it.”

You blinked, thrown off by his sudden honesty. “Wait... That’s it? You’re mad because Sully likes me?”

Nate’s gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for the first time, you saw the raw frustration there, the conflict he’d been hiding. “You think I enjoy hearing that he’s impressed with someone else? Someone who just waltzes in and acts like they know everything?”

“I never acted like that,” you said quietly, realizing there was more to this than just Sully’s praise. “This isn’t about me, is it?”

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t get it. Sully’s been like a mentor to me. When he starts talking about how great you are, it feels like—” He stopped, shaking his head. “It feels like I’m being replaced.”

Your heart softened a little at that, the pieces finally falling into place. Nate wasn’t just being a jerk for no reason. He felt threatened, like he was losing his place with Sully, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

“Nate,” you said, your tone gentler now, “Sully’s not replacing you. He just sees something in me, that’s all. It doesn’t take away what you mean to him.”

He scoffed, though his posture relaxed slightly. “Yeah, well, it sure feels that way.”

You stepped closer, hesitating before reaching out to touch his arm. “You’re not losing anything. Sully talks about you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. No one’s ever going to take that from you.”

For a moment, Nate didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at you with something unreadable in his eyes. Then, to your surprise, he laughed, a small, breathy sound.

“You know,” he muttered, “you’re really annoying when you’re right.”

You smiled slightly, relieved to see his mood lighten. “Maybe you should try listening to me more often.”

His eyes softened as he looked down at you, and the air between you shifted. There was still tension, but this time, it wasn’t the same biting resentment as before. This was something deeper, something that made your pulse quicken and your breath hitch.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” Nate murmured, his voice lower, more serious. “I hate how much you get under my skin.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. “Is that why you’ve been such a jerk to me?”

He shrugged, his gaze not leaving yours. “Maybe. Or maybe I just hate the fact that I like you more than I should.”

You blinked, shocked at his confession. For a second, you didn’t know what to say, but then his words sank in, and you felt something stir in your chest.

“You... like me?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Nate’s lips quirked up in a wry smile. “Yeah. Been trying to ignore it, but it’s not exactly working.”

You swallowed, the tension between you growing heavier, more charged. “You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

He chuckled, his eyes flicking down to your lips for just a second before meeting your gaze again. “Yeah, I’m not exactly great at this stuff.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of the jungle disappearing as you stood there, inches apart. Then, before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you, your lips brushing against his in a tentative kiss.

Nate froze for a split second, but then his hands came up to cup your face, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his lips firm and warm against yours. The frustration, the tension, the unspoken feelings between you—everything melted away in that moment, leaving only the heat of his touch and the rapid beat of your heart.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless. Nate looked down at you with a soft smile, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“So, does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?” He teased.

You smirked. “I’ll let you know after we find the treasure.”

Nate laughed, his hand still lingering on your cheek as he leaned in for another kiss. And this time, you didn’t stop him.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

[wereallydobevibing]

Oh, the Privilege of Growing Old | Simon Riley x Reader

I used to post my stories on tiktok under the username @codlover but I figured since tiktok might get banned I should delete that account and post it here. Here’s one of the stories.

Feel free to use my work as a prompt/inspiration. Better yet, feel free to write you’re ideal part 2 just MAKE SURE YOU CREDIT AND TAG ME.

WARNINGS: None that I can think of, let me know if I missed any, though.

His eyes peel open under the beam of sunlight, which peaked menacingly through the window – Simon’s neck hurts, a crippling pain that came back every few days just to remind him that his youth was long behind him. He didn’t mind the reminder much, it was pesky and painful, but it was a humbling reminder that he’d made it much further than he ever believed he would.

Despite the pain, he cranes his neck to the opposite side of the bed. These days, you often awoke long after him. Simon had always been an awful sleeper, that part of him never left even after retirement; but when you were younger, you often stressed being awake before him; a competition you never won.

With a tilt of his head, there you were – you in all your glory, sleeping soundlessly right beside him. He reckoned it was all the beauty sleep you got that kept you aging well. At the rippling age of seventy-three you had few wrinkles, excluding the smile lines around your eyes that would especially be exaggerated when you beamed up at him, even if you no longer recognized him.

At least, you didn’t recognize him as who he was now.

“[Y/N],” He later called out to you from the kitchen, “Breakfast is ready.”

“I can’t eat right now,” you cried, running around the bedroom with a million things craddled in your hands; hairsprays, makeup. “My husband will be home soon, I need to do my hair!”

Over the many years of you being together, Simon never considered that your day to day activities revolved around him even while he was on deployment. Alzheimer’s would quickly reveal your hidden truth for him, though. At first, he found it endearing how you would unknowingly reenact your younger days, bustling about the house and stressing over decorations and “I need to go buy a new dress for when I get Simon from the airport!”.

No matter what day you thought it was, Simon would relive that day with you, watching you fret over the smallest details; “Oh, this is so cute, but Simon doesn’t like orange!”

He would spend everyday listening to you talk about himself – your smart, strong, loving husband who’d done so many incredible things while serving his country. Your Simon who’d given you three sons and everything else you ever wanted. Simon Riley, who you were so proud of even if he thought lowly of himself. You were just so in love with him.

Overtime, he began to feel his heart ache. He never thought before that maybe you’d spent every minute of every day trying to decipher something as little as whether Simon preferred you in a pale, light shade of purple or a blush, baby pink. He never cared as long as you were still here when he came home. But it seemed that making sure the house was comfortable and that you were dolled up and pretty for him was essential to life for you.

It made him regret back in your twenties, when he’d left you for six months in fear that if he died, you’d be left with the responsibility of cutting all his strings for him. It had broken your heart, and for a time you believed he’d left you for another woman and covered it up with such an excuse, the easiest excuse. He hadn’t ever known another woman after you – he just didn’t want you to live out the rest of your life kneeling over his grave if he died.

He finally gave in and brought you back home when he ran into you in the city, still wearing the wedding ring. When he asked why you would still wear the damn thing, you said, “I took my vows, Simon. I’ll keep them.”

The thought of leaving you never crossed his mind again, even if it was to save you your heartache. Clearly, it would ache whether he was dead or alive when he left you. It took time to fully regain your trust and restore your broken heart, and he didn’t blame you.

You became his motivator, then – the reason to always make it home, if only to protect your mental well-being. The idea of you writhing in pain, sleeping in a cold, empty bed, is what kept him alive all these years, and he swore by it. He would never want that for you.

“[Y/N],” Simon says, now entering the bedroom, watching you lay out all your cosmetics and self-care products.

“Not now,” you huff impatiently, “Simon’s gonna be waiting for me at the airport.”

Simon’s gazing down on you warmly, “Simon will want you to eat, love.”

“Do you even know him enough to say that?” You scowl, “Don’t touch me, he’ll kill you.”

He wants to laugh, but there’s in itch in his brain that reminds him not to. It seemed you were quite . . . fanatical when it came to him. After almost forty years of marriage, you gave him reason every day to love you more, and more, and mor–

“Believe me, love, I know him well,” Simon sets the plate down on your vanity, the one he built for you many years ago. “Eat. You get restless when you’re hungry.”

Simon leans over to kiss the top of your head, and he laughs when you swat him away, angry, saying, “Watch! Just watch when he gets home, you’re done!”

With the empty threat of total destruction hanging over his head, he collapses himself back on the bed and flickers on the TV, a small smile playing at his lips as he watches you out the corner of his eyes.

This lifetime had not been enough time with you. But deep down in his soul, Simon knew he’d find you again in the next.

[morgana-larkin]

a cute prompt [i hope] reader's been teaching at abbott for over a year now, usually commute or in rare occasions, drive in her car, but now, goes to the school riding bicycle saying it reduces carbon footprint, saves her from expenses and as an exercise. But she just really love bikes, Jacob joined with this, next day he arrived at school riding a bike, then Janine and Gregory. Barb, tho was always dropped off by Ger with their car, rode it the bike during break for fun. Abbott staff decided to have a biking get together next weekend, Melissa initially declined but later on agreed because of Jacob's teasing that she's a schemmenti and doesn't know how to ride a bike [unfortunately, it's true] also, she secretly enjoy seeing you biking. They meet up in the park, with their bikes and decided it's time to go around the area. Melissa, embarrassed, said maybe she wouldn't go that far and maybe wait for them. So the crew didn't argue and left, r stayed. When the staff is out of the earshot and sight of the she beamed and said she'll teach Mel how to ride a bike. Melissa, being flustered and a stuttering mess still acted offensive about the *assumption* of her not knowing how to ride. R gave her a look and agreed to teach her. This is long, but I don't know. I feel like I'm always rambling lololol

Anon, ramble all you want. I don’t mind detailed prompts. And honestly when my ADHD meds wear off, I’m like Spotify, where I do the whole playlist and then recommended. Like I literally don’t shut up lol. Tbh they wore off 3 hours ago lol. So I went a little off just a bit, I didn’t make Melissa flustered until she was being taught instead of flustered before. And it was cute, it really was! Anyway, a little smut at the end but it’s really cute and funny. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I’m accepting Melissa Schemmenti, Chessy and Marilyn Thornhill prompts. So send them! I do currently have 9 that I still need to do but I’ll get to all of them!

Side note: for the gif I was literally watching her eat a tomato for 5 minutes…ok I’ll shut up now.

Teaching You

Warnings: 😏, fluff, sweet praise(non sexual praise), small injury part for Mel

Words: 4.3k

It’s spring time and the weather is finally warm enough for you to bike to work again. You get your helmet on, sling your backpack on and put your coffee mug in the water bottle holder. You unlock your bike from the lock wrapped around your bike and the bike rack in your apartment building and bring your bike outside. You kick up the kickstand and get on your bike, you check your helmet one more time and the little bell on your bike, then you take off.

You have a smile on your face as you’re happily biking to work on the busy Philly streets. You’ve always loved biking, your family are all big on biking and so are you, just something about it that you enjoy. You stop at a red light about a block away from the school and Melissa ends up pulling up to the light as well. You both end up seeing each other and you wave at her with a big smile then the light turns green. Melissa drives off with a smile and a shake of her head.

Once you pull up, you see Melissa parked and leaning on the brick wall of the school next to the bike rack. You pull up near the rack on your bike and get off and lock your bike.

“Hey hon.” She tells you with a smile and you look up at her after locking your bike.

“Hey Mel.” You tell her and then the trio is walking up to the school.

“Y/n did you ride a bike to school?” Jacob asks and you nod. You don’t really want to tell them how much you enjoy riding a bike, afraid they’ll make fun of you. This is your second year at Abbott but no one has seen you ride a bike before.

“Ya I did, it’s great exercise and helps saves the planet a bit.” You tell them and they all smile.

“Great idea.” Jacob tells you and you all walk in together. You and Melissa walk together with the trio trailing along behind you two.

Melissa tells you a joke and you laugh and playfully shove her gently with your shoulder and she does it back to you. The trio behind you smiling at the scene in front of them. You all enter the break and see Barb there on her phone, with Mr Johnson mopping the floor across the room.

“You guys all got here at the same time?” Barb asks all of you.

“More or less.” Melissa says.

“Y/n rode here on a bike this morning.” Janine says and Barb looks at you and smiles.

“Did you, dear?” She says and you nod. “How lovely.” She tells you and you smile.

After school you lock up your classroom, holding your helmet and start to walk out. Melissa ends up locking her classroom when you walk by and she joins you.

“Hey hon.” She tells you as she’s putting her phone in her purse and walking beside you.

“Hey Mel.” You tell her casually.

“So any plans for the weekend?” She asks you and mentally facepalms. It’s Monday, the weekend just happened.

“I don’t know, maybe some plans will come up but at the moment I’m free. You?” You ask her and she’s thankful you didn’t question why she asked you about weekend plans on a Monday.

“Nah, nothing yet.” She says to you and you end up at the bike rack. You put your helmet on and unlock your bike and put the lock in your bag.

“I can’t believe we didn’t know you rode a bike to school and it’s been over a year and a half.” She tells you and you look up at her and smile.

“Well I don’t do it in the winter, you guys just never saw me bike and I don’t really talk about it since it’s normal for me.” You tell her and kick up the kickstand and get on.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then?” She asks you and you nod.

“Yep, see ya tomorrow.” You tell her and you pedal off. Melissa watches you bike off and she smiles, she already thinks you’re cute, but seeing you happy on a bike warms her heart. She walks to her car with a smile.

The next day it seemed that Jacob decided to also ride a bike to school and you smile as you see him pull up to the rack as you’re locking yours.

“Hey hon, and Jacob.” Melissa says, confused when seeing Jacob as well.

“Hey Mel.” You tell her. “It seems Jacob also decided to bike to school.” You tell her excitedly.

“Well like you said, good exercise and good for the environment.” Jacob says with a shrug.

You all walk in the school, you and Melissa chatting and joking around. When you walk in the break room, Jacob joins Janine and Gregory and Melissa joins Barb. You on the other hand just drop your lunch off and get a coffee then you start to walk off when Melissa stops you.

“Hey hon, why don’t you ever stay?” She asks you and you look at her and realise that they’re all looking at you.

“Oh um, well I guess because you already have your groups of people to hang out with and I don’t want to intrude on that.” You tell her and they all look at you sadly. “It’s alright, I’ll find my own group of people.” You tell them and then walk out before anyone can say anything. Unknown to you, Melissa looks at where you were standing with a shocked and a bit upset face.

You don’t run into anyone after school as one of the parents was late to pick up their kid, apologies flowing out of their mouth and you wave them off saying it’s alright.

The next day it seemed you started a trend as Janine and Gregory also decided to bike to work.

“It’s so much fun to bike!” Janine says excitedly after getting off her bike. You all lock up your bikes and head into the school. You arrive at the break room and you go to put your lunch in the fridge and make your coffee. You go to walk out but Melissa stops you again.

“Hey hon, come sit down here.” She tells you and points to the empty chair at their table. You look at her a bit shocked. Your crush just invited you to sit with her and you blush. You then mentally facepalm as you realise you sound like a high school girl with a crush. You do end up sitting down with her and Barb and you have a nice morning.

At lunch, Barb asks if she can try out one of the bikes for fun. To which you accept and she has a lot of fun biking around the parking lot. All of you are sitting outside having lunch watching Barb bike around.

“Maybe we should get together this weekend and do a little bike ride together.” Janine suggests and you look surprised.

“Really?” You ask her and she nods.

“I’m down.” Jacob says immediately.

“Ya me too.” Gregory says.

“Ya I would love too.” You tell them.

“I wouldn’t mind joining as well.” Barb says and then you all turn to Melissa who’s sitting beside you.

“What?” She asks.

“Do you want to join us on a bike ride together this weekend?” Janine says to her.

“Nah I’m good.” She tells you all.

“Why not?” Jacob asks and she shrugs.

“Cause I don’t wanna.” She tells him.

“Is it because you’re such a tough Schemmenti and you don’t know how?” Jacob says a bit to tease her playfully and doesn’t know that he’s actually right.

“I know how to ride a bike!” She tells him defensively.

“Ok then prove it. Join us this weekend.” He challenges her.

“Fine, what’s the time and place?” She asks and you all settle on Saturday at noon at the park since there’s a lot of bike paths there. You give her a bit of a weird look as she was pretty defensive but you don’t ask her about it.

Melissa keeps watching you bike away after school with a smile on her face.

Saturday at noon, you all show up with your bikes at the park. Melissa is the last to show up.

“Hey hon.” She tells you once she sees you and you turn around to face her with a smile.

“Hey Mel!” You tell her and beam.

“Alright so we should decide on a path and the distance.” Barb says and you all nod and settle on one after a few minutes.

Mel looks a bit worried when you turn to look at her. “You ok?” You ask her and she looks at you, everyone looks over at Melissa as well.

“Ya I’m fine, just I probably shouldn’t go that far. Don’t want to sprain something and then can’t walk for a few days.” She tells them all. “I think I’ll sit this one out.” She tells them and when they go to question her, she gives a glare and they all shut up.

They decide to just bike off without Melissa, except you. You hang back and Melissa looks at you with a quirked eyebrow. You look and see that everyone is just about out of sight and you look back towards Melissa.

“Shouldn’t you be biking alongside them?” She asks while still holding on to the bike.

“Maybe, but I’d rather stay here and help you learn how to ride it.” You tell her with a friendly smile. She looks at you confused.

“I already told all of youse that I know how to ride a bike, I just don’t wanna.” She says defensively again.

“Ok then prove it, use the kickstand.” You tell her and she looks at you confused.

“Kickstand?” She asks and you look at her with a knowing glance and you nod. Melissa looks at her bike, searching for what you could possibly mean.

“Mel…” you tell her and she looks at you as you get off your bike and you kick out the kickstand and let go of your bike. Melissa sees what you do and does the same thing then looks at you with a proud smile. It falls when she sees your face, you’re looking at her a bit sad.

“Did no one teach you how to ride a bike?” You ask her and she looks down at the ground, embarrassed.

“No, they didn’t.” She admits and you walk over to her.

“It’s ok to admit you know, I’m not going to judge you.” You tell her and she looks up at you. “If you want to learn then I can teach you.” You offer again and this time she smiles and accepts. You lock your bike up nearby and then you go back to Melissa. You show her how to sit on it properly and show her how to be when not in motion. Then you tell her how to ride. “It’s mostly about balance, like skating or balancing on one leg.” You tell her. “There’s a reason that the expression ‘just like riding a bike’ is so commonly used for stuff that you know how to do but it’s been awhile. It’s pretty straightforward.” You tell her and then you get off and tell her to try it.

You held on the bike with part of a handle and the seat the whole time so it wouldn’t fall over. Melissa got on just like you showed her and had one foot on the ground while still on the bike when she won’t be in motion just like you showed her and she looked at you for praise with a smile. You gave her a proud smile and a thumbs up and she beamed.

“Now here comes the tricky part, balancing yourself while pedalling. Now I’ll hold on the bike like I’ve been doing and you’re going to pedal ok?” You tell her and she nods. She then blushes when she realises that your hand keeps accidentally touching her butt and missed when you told her to pedal.

“Sorry what?” She asked when she sees you looking at her weirdly.

“I said you can start pedalling.” You tell her and she looks embarrassed then goes to try and start pedalling. She pedals slowly and crookedly and you manage to keep up with her to keep the bike up. “You’re doing it Mel, you’re biking!” You tell her and she has a huge smile. “Do you want me to let go and try and bike by yourself?” You ask and she widens her eyes.

“Uh no, I’m still trying to focus on pedalling and not balance.” She tells you and you smile.

“It’s alright, it’s at your pace.” You tell her without judgement.

You guys take a short break, mostly so you don’t tire yourself out.

“You’re learning it Mel, I bet by the end of today, you’ll be biking circles around all of us.” You tell her and she blushes and looks at the ground with a smile.

Turns out the first time you let go, she noticed how your hand touched hers on the handle and your other hand touched her butt and she lost focus and fell.

You ran to her and luckily she fell on grass. “You ok Mel?” You asked her and she looked embarrassed and had a pout. “Hey it’s ok. Most people fall the first person they try to pedal on their own.” You tell her. “I did.” You say and she looks at you.

“You did?”

“Ya, and I mastered pedalling by then. They took the training wheels off, I go to pedal, and fell right over.” You say with a laugh and she giggles. You then help her up and she blushes at the fact that you’re touching her. You on the other hand think her pink cheeks are embarrassment from falling. “Want to try again?” You ask her and she thinks, your hands still on her.

“I um, I don’t know.” She says, she can’t think properly with your hands on her.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to continue but I don’t want you to get discouraged because you fell on your first attempt.” You tell her genuinely. She decides to give it another try, and on the fifth attempt she was doing it. You were so proud of her. You ran after her and yelling “MELISSA LOOK YOU’RE DOING IT! OMG I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!” You yell as she’s going faster than you’re running. Melissa got flustered that you said you were proud of her and lost focus and fell.

You caught up to her and she fell on the pavement this time and scraped her hands. You kneeled down as soon as you caught up to her and took her hands in yours to inspect them.

“Oh they don’t look too too bad. But I think you should clean it to avoid infections.” You told her and she was looking at you with flushed cheeks. “What?” You asked her and you gently dropped her hands.

“N-nothing.” She said.

“Um ok.” You say confused. “But Melissa you did it! You rode a bike!” You excitedly told her and hugged her and Melissa froze. You pulled away and saw she looked tense. “Oh sorry, I should have asked to hug you. I’m just very proud of you.” You tell her.

“It’s alright, the hug was actually nice. I’m just not used to physical touch.” She says and looks down.

“I’m sorry.” You tell her and she looks up and gives a smile and whispers to you.

“I rode a bike.” She whispers excitedly and you smile.

“Ya you did. How about we go to my place and I can take a look at your hands and clean them. Unless you want to go back to your place and do it.” You said.

“Um, we could, um go back to yours.” She says, stuttering a bit and you nod.

You manage to get both your bikes in her car, somehow. You biked to the park since it’s only 15 minutes of bike riding away from your house. And you get back to your place and bring Melissa to your apartment. You get her to sit on the couch while you get cloths, a bowl of warm water, disinfectant and some bandaids. You bring them all to your coffee table and get her to hold your hands out. Looks like they were bleeding a bit.

You take one of the cloths and dip it in the water and then you wipe the scrapes on her hands. Once the bleeding stopped and the scrapes looked clean, you grabbed the disinfectant. “This might sting a bit.” You tell her and she nods. You put some on a clothe and wiped her hands. She did flinch a bit but other than that she seemed to be alright. You put a couple bandaids on her scrapes, where it was bleeding, and it looked alright. “Alright did you get hurt anywhere else and Melissa looked at you.

“Um nope.” She told you she avoided eye contact.

“Melissa…” You said and gave her a pointed look.

“I’m fine.” She said. You sat up a bit and adjusted your position on the couch so you’re on one knee.

“Melissa, where else does it hurt?” You asked and she crossed her arms and pouted. “Ok, if you’re gonna act like a child then I’ll treat you like one.” You told her and she looked at you and gasped in disbelief. “Either show me where it hurts or I’ll treat you like a child.”

“It’s one of my knees but I can’t roll up my pants to show you.” She tells you and you look at her with a “oh”.

“Well here.” You say and take the blanket on the end of the couch and cover her top part of the legs. You can take your pants off and still keep your modesty.” You tell her and she chuckles, she still takes her pants off and you see blood dripping down her right leg. “We should have made you wear elbow and knee pads.” You tell her and you get on your knees on the floor and get to cleaning her knee. Melissa sees you get on your knees in front of her and some fantasies make their way to her mind and she blushes. You look up and see her flushed face. “You ok?” You ask and she nods.

“Yep.” She says, voice a bit high pitched but you ignore it. You finish up with a bandaid on her knee. Just when she thinks it’s over, it isn’t.

“Oh I almost forgot!” You exclaim and hold your hair where it is, then bend down and give her a kiss on the knee next to where the bandaid is. She felt your lips on her knee and she blushed even more. “A kiss to make it better! Want me to do the same with your hands?” You asked her and she held out her hands. You kissed both of them better and her cheeks have turned from a pink to a red. You look up at her again and see her red cheeks. “Are you sure you’re ok? Are you running a fever?” You ask and feel her forehead with your palm. Oh if only you knew what you do to her. “You feel fine. I hope you’re not embarrassed, cause you don’t have to be.” You tell her and rest your forearms on her legs.

“Ya I’m…fine.” She said and give her a questioning look. “What?” She asked.

“Melissa? Are you hiding something from me?” You ask her and she avoids eye contact. “What are you hiding from me?” You ask her and you get up and bend over to rest your hands on her legs. And Melissa has a perfect view of down your shirt. She really has to focus on where her eyes look right now.” You notice how she stared at you, well more specifically down your shirt and her cheeks got even redder and avoided eye contact even more. You see how she keeps glancing at your hands near her thighs and she doesn’t know what to do. You decide to test a theory and move your hands subtly up her legs, near to that spot in between her legs and her breath hitches and her face feels like it could be on fire. You lean into her more and look at her eyes. “Melissa, something you’re not telling me?” You ask her with a slightly lower pitch voice and she’s breathing deeply right now. Just when you’re about to pull away, she grabs the back of your head and pulls you forward and gives you a kiss.

You’re stunned for a second but then kiss her back and Melissa is stunned. You’re kissing her back? She pulls back and looks at you and you’re smiling at her with soft heart eyes. “Do you like me back?” She asks you and you nod.

“Wait, does that mean you like me?” You ask her and she nods. And before you know it, both of you are surging forward and kissing each other. You end up straddling her lap and she deepens the kiss by slipping her tongue in when you grant access. Her hands roam all over from your chest to your knees. She feels so much of you and yet can’t feel enough of you. She tests the waters and puts her hands under your shirt and feels the skin on the side of your stomach and you don’t stop her. She roams her hands up and you two take a second to breathe before making out again. She continues to move her hands up and feels you smile. So you realise she’s moving her hands up and you’re happy about it. Does that mean she has your approval to unclip your bra? Just as she finishes that thought you unclip your own bra and she smiles. Just as she was about to go and touch your breasts, her phone rings loudly and it startles both of you.

“Hello?” Melissa answers and forgot to see who it was. She’s breathing a bit fast and you can see she’s trying to control it. So of course you decide to be a little shit and dive to her neck. “Oh Barb hi-i” she squeaks the last part out a bit as you decide to suck on her neck.

“Are you ok?” Barb says on the other line.

“Ya I’m fine, why?” Melissa says and tries to get you to stop but ends up holding your hair and letting you continue as it feels good.

“You sound breathless and like something surprised you.” Barb says gently and Melissa can’t think for a second as you removed your shirt and bra at the same time and she just stares. All she can think about is wanting to suck them. You begin grinding her leg and you nod your head to the phone and she suddenly remembered Barb asked her a question.

“Ya I’m fine just ya catching my breath, I ended up biking with y- y/n to her place since it’s like 20 minutes… instead of the-the 2 hour one you wanted to do. We just got back and I’m… catching mmmy breathe.” She stutters throughout the entire sentence as she just feels and sees you grinding her leg and you ended up leaning towards her so your breasts are almost in her face. You were torturing her and she knew it.

“You need to catch your breath after a 20 minute bike ride?” Barb asks and Melissa is really cursing in her head.

You decide to end her torture and grab the phone from her. “Hey Barb it’s y/n.” You say and Melissa decides to grab your breasts with her mouth and you pull the phone away from your mouth enough so that Barb doesn’t hear it.

“Oh hi y/n, is Melissa ok?” Barb asks.

“Mmhhmm.” You say since Melissa is teasing you now. “She’s alright, just she did 20 minutes to my place then 20 minutes back to her ca! Car.” You say as Melissa decides to rub your clit through your underwear and pants. “Ya so she’s fine.” You blurt out and hand the phone back to Melissa.

“Hey Barb, I caught my breath.” And Melissa is still rubbing your clit so you can’t tease her right now. You don’t pay attention to what Barb says and then hear Melissa talk again. “Ok, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Melissa says then hangs up. “You.

Little. Minx.” She says to you and you smile. She rolls her eyes at you then pulls her hand away from your clit and you whine. She sits up with you still on her, your legs wrapped around her waist and her hand grabbing your ass. She brings you to your bed with you sucking her neck and then drops you on the bed.

“Ah.” You say as she actually dropped you on purpose. She crawls on top of you and leans in to your ear.

“You were a great teacher with me for biking. Now let me show you how I pleasure a woman.” She tells you and you shiver and rub your thighs together. She notices how you react and she smirks, she pulls back and looks at you. “And when I teach, I like for the person to tell me how well I’m doing.” She tells you and then takes her shirt and bra off and then makes you breathless all night.

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[hippolotamus]

Fuck it Friday 🥕

tagged by @thekristen999 with some lovely amazing Buddie angst. emerging from the tag day depths with my OCs. @rewritetheending's boys got me in my feels and here we are.

should you feel like continuing, may I introduce you to Sam having a bit of an internal freak out during lunch with her bestie, Mila (who will later be Theo) 💖

For a moment I can pretend we’re back in middle school. Like we aren’t the two twenty-something professionals we turned into when no one was looking. Before we thoughtlessly kissed adolescence goodbye, trading Converse and wide leg jeans for sensible flats and pencil skirts. Before first kisses and dates and everything’s somehow became moving in with Jamie, eventually tumbling into ‘I’m getting married’. Before the unease that everyone says is just cold feet started working its way under my skin.  It started the day Silver Fern Estate called, letting us know the place was ours for the exact day we wanted. With its ponds, gazebos, and restored barn perfect for dinner and dancing and the vitally important sweets bar I insisted I couldn’t live without - it was everything I’d been dreaming of. Except, for reasons I still can’t understand, I was reaching past the hollow feeling in my chest in order to force the giddiness that everyone, including me, was expecting.  “Am I doing the right thing?” I blurt out.  “Well,” Mila answers sagely, “unless you want to be doing the left thing.” It makes me snort and roll my eyes, the way I assume it was meant to. She always did know when I’m too in my head.  “But maybe tell me what I’m evaluating first. Are we talking the spreadsheet you’re working on or…?” My weary sigh gives me away, giving her the chance to cut in before I can elaborate.  “This is about Jamie again.” She waves a bitten off carrot in my direction. “Do we need a new pros and cons list? Another reminder that you’re marrying a great guy who happens to be one of the few that isn’t an asshole?” “As much as I’m sure you’re dying to draw up a new list, no, we don’t need that.” Mila gently elbows my ribs. “Then what, Sam? Help me out here. You’ve got the guy, the venue of your dreams, the rage and fury of every other bride who wanted it that Saturday. And let’s be honest, that’s the real prize.” She’s right, she’s so right. Not as much about winning out over the other couples, but my competitive side is willing to let that stand.  “I don’t know.”  It’s the most truthful answer I can give. Because I can’t say what’s wrong. If there’s actually something wrong or if everyone’s right and it’s just pre-wedding jitters. Mothers and aunts say to trust your instincts but for some reason that logic doesn’t stand in the face of questioning the person you intend to spend the rest of your life with. In that case it’s ‘normal’ and ‘happens to everyone, it’ll be fine’.  Will it really? Will ‘I do’ be the magic incantation to break the curse of nerves and doubt? Do the matching wedding bands form a protective circle? Of course, if that were true, my own parents would still be married.  Maybe I can still pretend, hold on tenaciously to that belief. After all, this isn’t a ‘surprise! We’re pregnant!’ affair. Jamie and I saved, putting in extra hours at work and sacrificing takeout. We planned and scheduled and vetted every little detail. The i’s are dotted and t’s are crossed. In four days, twenty-three hours and sixteen minutes (give or take) I’ll be Mrs. Samantha Bennett.  The realization hits harder, digging its claws in deeper and that only makes me want to avoid it again. I steal Mila’s last bite of carrot as a distraction.  “Maybe I’m just secretly sad that I won't have to put up with founding fathers jokes anymore.”  Like a damn magician, Mila produces another carrot stick from nowhere. “As if I’d ever let you get off that easy, Adams.”

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