#no I don’t know how that would exactly work

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 17: The One About All the Hot Air

Oh, hey, hey, hey – what is that over there?

No, not that –

That!

Ah, fuck.

Is that what I think it is?

Yeah, yeah, it looks like some sort of hot air balloon.

Ugh, it’s that fucking wannabe Wizard! Get that manipulative shit-fuck outta here!

Seriously, don’t let it set foot on land. It’s not welcome on this side of Oz.

Someone release the flying monkeys! Like, now. Knock it out of the sky.

Wait, I thought the Wizard liked green. This weirdo has a red balloon.

Bitch, I didn’t say it was the Wizard; I said it was a wannabe Wizard.

Oh, no wonder it’s steering that balloon like a fucking clown.

Hell, I don’t even think we need the monkeys. That idiot is going to crash and burn itself straight into the glass walls of the Emerald Palace.

Well, you know what they say when you start throwing stones in a glass house…

It is slightly amusing (and a tad concerning) to me that children are always led to believe that the villain of “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” is that bitch of a Witch of the West when the worst character traits are actually portrayed by the Wizard himself. And, by “worst character traits,” I mean that he was a master manipulator who conned an entire city into believing he held some form of great power.

Did you know that in the original story the Emerald City wasn’t really that green? Sure, it was made from green glass and emeralds, but the Wizard required everyone to wear green-colored glasses so that everything appeared greener than it actually was. Weird, that. And, even more weird, people bought it! “Here, put these glasses on and you’ll see everything exactly the way I want you to see it.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m fully aware “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” is a work of fiction, but the idea that people can be easily manipulated – especially by someone with “power” – is not fiction.

That’s what today’s piece of “hot air” is about – fandom manipulation and the power of suggestion. And who better than to manipulate an entire fandom than the media? It’s unfortunate that I have to give the media power in this story – and even more unfortunate that I have to give it to rag-mags and social media – but the reality is information is power, regardless of whether it’s misinformation. In fact, MIT Sloan did a study in 2018 demonstrating how false information spreads through social media, namely, Twitter, six times faster than true information. Disturbing, right? I don’t even want to know what the going rate for misinformation is in 2025.

And, of course, since I opened today’s story with a visit to the Land of Oz, we may as well take a day trip over to Australia. Remember how I told you Australia deserved an entry of its own? Well, this is it. No, not really. I did say this was a day trip, not a sleep-over, so it’s not going to be chucked full of shiny bracelets or ways to “keep a good girl down.” It’s just our starting point today.

In my first entry, I briefly described what brought me into this fandom. It was something Luke said – and not really what he said, but how he said it – that left me intrigued. He was being interviewed on the Bowral red carpet by “Gretchen from the Philippines.” Yes, that’s literally how she introduced herself! Could I instead refer to the nice lady by her real name (Gretchen Fullido)? Sure, but “Gretchen from the Philippines” is far more fun. Plus, it sounds kind of whimsical. Any ways, Gretchen (from the Philippines) asked Luke if, “in real life,” he’d support friends-to-lovers. Luke’s response was, well, a bit jumbled, which was what sparked my curiosity because his previous answers that day were, for the most part, articulate: “I would – I would support friends – I feel like it’s not something that – that I have in my li – that I resonate with – that I’ve experienced. But, you know, if my – if my friends wanted to explore a relationship with one their friends, go for it. I’ll support it.”

Something in the way Luke answered that question was like suddenly being able to see the forest for the trees. At that moment, I was convinced Luke had always been in love with Nicola, and everything else that went on during that particular red-carpet event (and thereafter) simply christened the USS Lukola. However, that comment by Luke – and a subsequent one he made in New York – would result in the addition of a lot of trees to our enchanted forest.

Now – I apologize – we need to borrow a hot air balloon, preferably one that can travel through time, and jump forward to November 5, London-time. I promise, we will return to Oz momentarily.

Oh, fuck.

What now?

That ridiculous faux Wizard is right behind us. I thought I told you to send in the monkeys!

Dammit, you said we didn’t need them! I left those fuckers back in Oz.

Well, umm, I think we might need them now.

Why??

Uhh, do you see those four-legged beasts on the ground chasing our balloon?

Oh, you mean those coyote-like creatures?

Yeah, but we’re not in the Americas – and those ain’t coyotes…

Ah, here we are: November 5, Claridge’s, London. This was the evening Nicola attended the Harper’s Bazaar Women of the Year awards. We’re only stopping in real quick to steal a piece of the speech Nicola gave that evening. Okay, got it! Let’s get the fuck out of here!

The part of the speech I wanted to share was this: “I did a six-month press tour for Bridgerton, the show which I love, and I’m so proud of. The amount of inappropriate questions I got asked about my appearance, about my relationship…”

Hold up. Relationship? What relationship?

Did she say “relationship” or “relationships?”

Does it fucking matter?

Well, I guess not. But what does it mean?

I could tell you what I think it means… Wait a hot-air-balloon-minute – where the fuck have you taken us? I told you we needed to go back to April 21, Aussie-time. This looks like Soho in January.

Shit, sorry. Let me fix that. Here we go…

>>> 

Umm, hey, where’s that weird little red Wizard? I swear it was just behind us…

Eh, probably got stuck in Soho, hahaha. Guess it missed its exit.

Do you think that’s a good idea?

Yeah, sure. It’ll be fine…

We’ve returned to April 21, Bowral, Australia. Now, at this point in the timeline, World Tour interviews were already well underway. In fact, the first two parts of EmEdits on YouTube are entirely pre-Australia interviews, making up roughly 6 ½ hours of screen time. I’m not the least bit surprised that “Gretchen from the Philippines” asked Luke what his thoughts were on “real life” friends-to-lovers. The chemistry between Luke and Nicola was hard to ignore.

The Australian red carpet also introduced the hand holding, which – if we took another magical mystery tour over to May 9, Italy – Nicola and Luke agreed was a sign of “love.” I suppose I could buy the excuse that one or both had so much anxiety they needed the other’s hand to remain calm on the red carpet. But, nah, I wouldn’t buy that at all – for one very specific reason. When Luke and Nicola were seen leaving (I believe) the Milton Park Country House on April 23, Luke instinctively reached for Nicola’s hand as they were descending the steps. Why? This reflex by Cool Hand Luke was as natural as a pregnant woman touching her stomach. I ask again – why?

There’s only one answer.

It’s the answer that fits with the Claddagh ring. It’s the answer that fits with the side jaunt to Galway. It’s the answer that fits with their natural chemistry, the hand holding, the canned “shared experience” and “unique relationship” responses, the playful sexual innuendos. It’s the answer that fits with Luke’s “the best foundation for love is friendship” bracelet. It’s the answer that fits with Nicola’s remark about “[t]he amount of inappropriate questions I got asked…about my relationship…” It’s the only fucking answer that makes sense.

But, the real kicker is, why don’t people believe that is the answer?

Why is it so hard to believe that Luke and Nicola could be in a real-life relationship?

That’s easy – because the Man Behind the Curtain told us so.

Who is the Man Behind the Curtain? Well, that’s also easy. It’s collectively the rag-mags and the social media creators on the prowl for a following. It’s the spread of misinformation at its worst and it’s so incredibly easy to do with, say, a pair of green-colored glasses.

Like I said, “…put these glasses on and you’ll see everything exactly the way I want you to see it.”

There was one major plot twist that came out of the World Tour, and you already know what that is. The seed was planted with a New Year’s Eve kiss, fertilized with blurry pictures, a compulsory hallway hug, and copycat photos, and encouraged to grow with a bit of junk news and a lot of social media innuendo. Now, I’m not saying the video and photographic evidence that was presented was fabricated; I’m simply suggesting the narrative that came out that evidence was skewed. The media, namely, social media creators, pushed us to plant Lutonia trees while Luke’s actions (i.e., not acknowledging the existence of Lutonia) told us to “pay no attention to the Man Behind the Curtain.”

Uh, so, what you’re saying is we shouldn’t have left that wannabe Wizard in Soho?

Ah, shit! I forgot about that fucker!

The unfortunate thing about the Lutonia narrative was that it was bolstered by insinuation that Luke would never be interested in Nicola. Now, whether these remarks were deliberately planted, or they were simply seedpods carried away by a storm, they were not overlooked by Lukolas – or Nicola. In fact, Nicola herself brushed upon it in her Harper’s Bazaar speech: “The amount of inappropriate questions I got asked about my appearance…” Yes, I’m referring to the suggestion that Luke preferred “brunettes” over “blondes.” Somehow this narrative was conveniently supported by the existence of – lo and behold! – the brunette “friend of a friend” Antonia, who happened to be slender. Again, whether it was intentional or not, the push by, initially, social media creators (and later gossip rags) to link Luke to Antonia inadvertently called the blonde in our story – Nicola – fat. I refuse to dance around that word because it is exactly what this disgusting narrative implied when it chose to compare Antonia to Nicola. Regardless of whether these gossipmongers “corrected” themselves by replacing “thin” with “brunette” and “fat” with “blonde,” the implication was that Luke would never be interested in Nicola because she had thick blonde hair. This was incredibly upsetting and confusing to many Lukolas because it was contrary to Luke’s behavior towards Nicola throughout the World Tour (and in Bridgerton behind-the-scenes clips).

I decided months ago that Luke was incredibly transparent. And, by that, I mean he’s terrible at keeping secrets. Luke himself admitted his “tell” to this was pulling at his ear – now go watch the World Tour with that information in mind. It’ll give you something to do, at the very least. Luke’s sincerity is also why the blonde versus brunette nonsense just doesn’t take flight for me. Any ways, as I hinted at earlier, Luke’s comments on the Bowral red carpet and his later comments in New York City about friends-to-lovers would – again, unfortunately – give the Man Behind the Curtain ammunition to debunk any real-life relationship between Luke and Nicola. Luke was quickly labeled as being “…dismissive of something ever happening between him and Nicola…” Those are literally the words The Tab used in an article dated May 22 to explain Luke and Nicola’s differing commentary about real-life friends-to-lovers. In fact, the article is titled, “Luke Newton has revealed the reason he’d never date Bridgerton co-star Nicola Coughlan.” Oddly – but not really given the source – Luke never actually said he would never date Nicola. But that fact didn’t stop it from becoming a theme of the World Tour – Luke didn’t believe in friends-to-lovers therefore he would never date Nicola – even though, by the end of the tour, Luke’s stance on this had seemingly changed. That’s not to say the rag-mags misquoted Luke – they didn’t – but the narrative they coiled around his words attempted to shut down the idea that Luke and Nicola would ever date in real life because Luke wasn’t interested. But what Luke was saying was that he believed in love-at-first sight. “I actually don’t think friends-to-lovers is something that happens in my life. If I meet someone, I know immediately.” Now, take that statement with the fact that Luke has repeatedly stated he remembers everything about the moment he met Nicola.

The above examples of gossip and innuendo are simply par for the course. The media manipulates facts all the time – whether it be through social media chatter or rag-mags putting their own spin on ordinary commentary – but this type of manipulation is not what puts the fandom in danger of itself. In fact, most of the gossip and innuendo that took root during the World Tour would have dissipated almost immediately after it ended – if it hadn’t been for Papsmear.

Yeah. That was disastrous.

Come to think of it, it was awfully convenient, too, don’t you think?

Absolutely. And you know what else was convenient? That little wannabe Wizard was –

Oh, yeah, I heard that, too! That clown has been trying to hand out green-colored glasses ever since!

Yep. Tried to give me a pair and I told it to go fuck itself and its little glass cat, too. I mean, they weren’t even name brand glasses. Fake ass, bitch.

All jesting aside, if you haven’t noticed already, I do, on occasion, use my writing to call out the fandom, usually as a whole. I mean, we are in this together, right? Actually, no; we ceased being Collectively Delulu after a few unsavory characters were bitten by the Hunter’s Moon and followed Nicola through the streets of New York and London. There was a major – and rather unexpected – shift in the fandom when the rabid Jakolas appeared from the dark corners of our enchanted forest. And I’m sure you’ve realized at this point in my story that I have one particular – oh, shit, I just realized I don’t even know to which fandom our wannabe Wizard belongs. Ruh-roh. Regardless, that motherfucker is in my peep sight because it is a perfect example of how fandom manipulation has reached a new level of toxicity.

Typically, I don’t care what part of the fandom you’re on. My general attitude is, to each their own. If you’re a Jakola and you find yourself spending an average of 15 minutes each week reading my Lukola blog, I applaud you for peeking outside of the den hole. Best not let Alpha find out, though. It’s all in good fun, right? I often find myself getting a good laugh from Jakola stories, especially when they theorize on the Woman Behind the Curtain. Question, though – did you find her? In all seriousness, if I didn’t consider Jakola and Lutonia perspectives, I would be borderline Conscientiously Stupid, now, wouldn’t I? After all, the desire for knowledge is what ultimately gave our Scarecrow his brain.

However, what I don’t find “in good fun” is when social media creators prey on more than one side of the fandom under phony pretense, namely, that they “just want Nicola to be happy.” Oh, these Cowardly Lions may argue that they’re simply being “neutral” – and, yes, I’m sure some instances of this do exist – however, neutrality does not embrace openly ridiculing one fandom over another, especially on a platform that is touted by its owners as being a “safe space” for everyone. The problem with these so-called “neutral creators” is that they’re only here for social media engagement – the clicks and the giggles – and they defect to the other side when the going gets tough. If you, too, take issue with this kind of creator, be soothed in knowing that when you play two sides, you find yourself with two-times the number of enemies.

What makes these so-called “neutral creators” – actually, let’s just call them the “Defectors” – so poisonous to the fandom is that they are made from the grease drippings found at the bottom of the barrel of the Conscientiously Stupid. The Conscientiously Stupid are one thing – they are the ones using their platforms to spread misinformation because they choose to ignore exculpatory evidence (i.e., they’re headstrong in their beliefs) – but the Defectors are typically the ones creating the misinformation and feeding it to the Conscientiously Stupid and then hanging them out to dry when the information proves to be false. The Conscientiously Stupid who refuse to “lose the battle” then resort to bullying (more so than usual) the Sincerely Ignorant of an opposing fandom. And in defense of their Sincerely Ignorant comrades (or simply because they’re sick and tired of the Conscientiously Stupid preventing anyone from having nice things), the Fact Finders – unceremoniously, I might add – have taken their own place on the battlefield (oh, yes, they are absolutely your tactical commanders). Now, the entire fandom is at war with each other – all because some wannabe Wizard – a Defector – convinced people to look through a pair of shiny, green-colored glasses. More than once.

Is it appropriate – or perhaps a bit catty – to put “ceasefire” here?

Ah, yes, well, uh, we have found ourselves a bit far from Oz at this point, haven’t we?

I suppose – but we are trying to help Dorothy find her way back home, and at least we now have an idea as to how she got lost.

Maybe one day we will get her back to Kansas.

Yeah, maybe.

Oh, silly me! I forgot to sneak in a sly reference to Dorothy’s third companion – the Tin Man! He’s perfect for the end of our story. You know, in the book, the Wizard was just an ordinary man who stumbled into his Ozian existence on a magnificent hot air balloon and took advantage of the power that Emerald citizens bestowed upon him. Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Wizard preyed on the naïve using deception and the power of suggestion and invoked fear in anyone who dared to question his authority –

Uh, where are you going with this?

Give me a minute!

Like I said – shit, where was I? – Oh, yes, the Wizard was just an ordinary man, and ordinary people are flawed. We all make mistakes. This is where our Tin Man comes in as he represents love and empathy. Yes, empathy; the ability to put yourself in someone else’s shoes, to understand and forgive, to take into consideration someone’s redeeming qualities –

You know that Wizard defected in his hot air balloon before taking Dorothy home, right?

Wait, what?

Okay, okay. It was Toto’s fault but the Wizard sure as shit didn’t come back for her!

Hmm, you’d almost think Toto knew the Wizard’s true colors all along…

“Au revoir, Wiz.”

[heartsfromia]

critical inquiry — l. jihoon

pairing: non-idol! jihoon x reader

word count: 6,018

genre: fluff, workplace romance, reader isnt tech-savvy, jihoon kinda gives loser (endearing) energy

warnings: valorant (jk), profanities, proofreader? i hardly know her

author's notes: get me an IT guy like jihoon y'all, also idk i struggle when writing in mainly the guy's pov bro i cannot think like a man, can they be pathetic, yearning beings? idk bro

Lee Jihoon loved one thing about his job—working from home. With enough people in his team to cover tasks both from the office and at home, they're given the option to work either and Jihoon always picks home, time after time.

Until today, when Jihoon had received a message that his Work-From-Office buddy would be taking time off work for the next week because his grandfather fell ill, and he was asked to go back home for the time being.

“Only a week, Jihoon, and I swear you can go back to your PC set and slippers,” Wonwoo had reassured him, but it still wasn’t enough, “I’ll even help you rank up to Ascendant 3.”

So, that was how Jihoon found himself waking up at seven and taking public transportation to the office because his car was at his parent’s, and honestly, he wasn’t close with anyone to the point where he’d ask for a lift.

During the entire trip on his first day back to the office, he cursed the corporate slave routine. To think that before social distancing, that we would wake up at the crack of dawn to beat traffic or the commuter rush, go to a job that we’re not even sure we enjoy (spoiler: we don’t), and then have to go through that same rush and traffic when going home, only to sleep and reset the routine for the next day. As an IT support member, being in the office was the most useless and time-consuming thing. The Wi-Fi at his office is crap, the computers are old and laggy because the company doesn’t want to invest in better quality technology, and the team leaders are always breathing down your neck—but, hey, at least they compensate those that choose to come to the office.

One thing that Jihoon was grateful from the pandemic was the normalization of working from home. Having the option to attend the 10AM meeting, waking up at exactly 9:50 AM—clocking in—then joining the Zoom meeting without having to shower, change out of your pajamas, or even get out of the bed was something that was too good to be true. Alas, it happened, and he had been thriving and taking advantage of his Work From Anywhere policy in his company. Granted, he is only able to continuously work from home as long as there were two team members working from office, and luckily enough, that condition was met for the past six months

“This is new,” Hansol quipped when he spotted Jihoon signing at the entrance of the office. “Ah, Wonwoo is taking time off, right?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon muttered, most of his face hidden under a mask and cap, with his eyes peeking through the lenses of his glasses. “Do you think there’s coffee in the kitchen?”

“Obviously,” Hansol chuckles, finding the question obsurd. Can you blame Jihoon? The ceiling in the entrance of the building is almost falling apart from mold forming because of rain, and their computer to clock in was an old ASUS model from 2014 that can only function on a LAN cable—which is why its only purpose in this marketing agency was for signing in.

Sometimes Jihoon even wonders how the company can last for the past decade with its cheap ways.

He made his way to the second floor where the pantry, and overall kitchen was placed, making himself a cup of coffee before climbing the next step of stairs to the IT room—the main base for programmers and the support team. Another thing he hated about working from the office was the fact that the AC in his office just never seems to function. It’s the middle of summer, the city is going through a massive heatwave, and here, in his company placed in the smack middle of the city, they have a policy to not let the AC go anywhere under 23°C.

At least, when he is in the comforts of his own home, he can have the AC go as low as it can get, all while still in his pajamas, and could even multitask with Valorant opened in another tab.

“Oh, Jihoon, you’re switching with Wonwoo, right?” Jeonghan asked, turning in his chair and pushing his glasses up above his head.

“Yeah, I am, where does he usually sit?” Jeonghan taps the desk on his left, and watched as Jihoon got settled, a glint in his eyes that the younger one spotted. “What?”

“Did Wonwoo tell you anything?”

“Other than keeping my Google chat opened, nothing really,” he responded.

“You’ll be handling his division, too, right?” Jihoon nodded. “The Marketing team.” Rather than a question, Jeonghan confirmed the division, and once again, Jihoon nodded. A crease formed between his eyebrows, unsure of what his senior was referring to, and the latter noticed, chuckling at his puzzled expression. “You’ll see.”

It’s too early to understand what he means. Usually, he’d still be asleep right now if he were at home, especially since there aren’t any meetings he needs to attend today, he could’ve slept until three minutes before he required to clock in. He wasn’t use to having to be on work-mode even with ten minutes before his shift officially starts.

God, I miss working from home.

The first few hours into the shift was tedious. Since the company is a small PR agency, as a member of the in-house IT team, he’s required to wear multiple hats and take on various tasks. Unfortunately, since he is replacing Wonwoo for the time being, he’ll be taking on the task of Website management and ensuring that the Marketing team didn’t have any issues, as well as any technical issues the team might face, which is inevitable as their equipment is, as mentioned, crap quality. Every day Jihoon wonders why he claims to resign from the place but never does.

“Let’s grab lunch across the street,” Jeonghan invited Jihoon once the clock had struck twelve, signaling lunch time for all employees. Jihoon was about to agree and turn his computer to sleep mode when a ding! notified a message had come in. He rose a hand, indicating for his senior to wait a moment as he checked the message. He hadn’t received any complaints during the first half of the day from the team he was in charge of so this was a bit unusually for him.

It was a message from you.

Y/N: Afternoon, Jihoon. This is Y/N, and I’m new from Saerom’s team. Y/N: I was told by Wonwoo that he’s currently on PTA, and to message you instead. I have an issue with my Google Analytics account, I’m currently logged out and usually Wonwoo helps me with that because I haven’t been given my password (it’s been two weeks I’ve started 😅). Y/N: Can you help me with this?

“Who’s that?” Jeonghan ducked down, looking over Jihoon’s shoulder as he read the message, then a chuckle left his lips. “Ah… it’s Y/N, she’s a new, and struggles with a lot of the tech things—you’ll be meeting with her a lot.”

“She’s bad with tech and chose to be a social media specialist?”

“Ironic, huh?” Jeonghan laughs. “But she means well, even though she sucks with tech, she has good ideas and already has a viral TikTok video for one of our clients.”

“And she says she hasn’t been given her passwords? Aren’t we supposed to give it to them when they start?”

“Yeah, but usually they don’t ever log out, only she has that case,” he explains, the corner of his mouth lifting before he pats his junior’s shoulder reassuringly. “Just head on over there and help her, it doesn’t take more than ten minutes.”

Jihoon heaved a sigh, reluctant to help because of how tedious and unnecessary and easily avoidable this problem would’ve been if she’d had her hands on her account passwords.

Jihoon: Lee Saerom’s team? Y/N: Yes Jihoon: Alright, wait a minute Jihoon: On my way

“Are you dining in or taking away?” Jihoon asked Jeonghan, while he wrote down the password for your account on a sticky note.

“Dining in.”

“I’ll meet you there then.” With that, Jihoon tossed his cap off and trudged down to the second floor where Saerom’s team should be located. Since it was lunch time, most of the office space was empty, with only the office boy who was busy sweeping the floors from the aftermath of earlier today. He found the main room for the Marketing team fairly quickly, and didn’t have to look far for you as you were the only one in the room, seated in front of your computer, shoulders stiff and hands placed on your lap as if you were starting your first day.

Immediately upon hearing the creaking of the door, your eyes met above the desks and monitors, and for a brief second, Jihoon paused—almost shell-shocked as to finding someone like you working in a rundown company such as this.

“Y/N?” Jihoon called out, just making sure despite the obvious newbie aura that wafted around you.

“Yes… Are you Jihoon? The one covering for Wonwoo?” He nodded, and you were almost sure he’d say something to follow up to prevent an air of awkward silence from appearing between the two of you. He did not. Instead, he barely uttered anything as he approached your desk. You didn’t hesitate to push away with your chair to let him take the reigns and input your account. How you were able to stay logged out of the account and not have said anything earlier was unbeknown to him. You had been finishing up last week’s reports, but had only moved on to Google Analytics just twenty minutes ago. You’d usually have your account still logged in, always clicking the Remember me, however, to your surprise, you were logged out.

“This is your password.” Jihoon handed you the sticky note. “If you need any more help, you can just message me—Wonwoo is on leave for the next week.”

“A-alright.” Maybe it was the way he carried himself that intimidated you. Or the fact that he never made any attempt at small talk, thus, a tense and awkward air floated in the space between you two. Maybe it was his tone, lacking the usually bounce you’d usually hear from Wonwoo as he explained the mechanics of Hootsuite.

It is definitely his aura, it’s ice cold, you couldn’t help but think and maybe when he wasn’t looking, you’d shiver. “Thank you,” you uttered, and with a stiff smile, he nodded and left the room without anything further, leaving you to finish the last half of your report alone.

If you need any more help, you can just message me.

And that’s how it started, a back and forth of at least twice a day since that first exchange between you and Jihoon. At first, you had to introduce yourself again, despite the fact you were using Google Chats and your name was clearly displayed. After a brief introduction, you explained the problem at hand, then after a minute or two came Jihoon’s go-to reply.

Alright, wait a minute.

On my way.

The first couple of times, you almost thought it was an automated response he had somehow coded every time someone messaged him. Maybe he had set it so that after a couple of messages from the sender, it would trigger the short response from his end, however, you learnt that it was just purely him when your own messages grew shorter and shorter.

So, short to the point that this was your most recent exchange:

Y/N: Jihoon :( Jihoon: On my way

Thus, it became almost a routine for the two of you. Jihoon didn’t have any complaints, despite Jeonghan’s claims that the junior would usually complain from having to go back and forth, ascending and descending the same set of stairs more times than he should be. “Aren’t you tired?” Jeonghan had asked on Thursday after Jihoon had returned from helping you with the extension cord for the presentation you had scheduled the afternoon.

Jihoon merely shrugged. “I barely get to exercise with coming in.” Of course, as Jeonghan has been working with Jihoon since he started, he could tell the guy was bluffing, hiding whatever his true intention was behind his nonchalant facade, but he never said anything. Sooner or later the truth will come to light.

Jeonghan wasn’t the only that could tell that was a different air hanging around the avid-WFH-over-WFO tech employee, and whatever gossip that surrounded him managed to reach the ears of the guy he was covering for as the two got into a game of Valorant Thursday evening. As the two waited for a match to be found, Wonwoo informed him that his grandfather was feeling better and could be released from the hospital by Saturday morning.

“Oh, that’s good to hear, glad he’s doing alright,” Jihoon offered, although a bit half-hearted as he was eating his dinner by his desk at the same time.

“Yeah, and by Monday you can return to your world of working from anywhere,” Wonwoo said, a deep chuckle echoing on his end. “And by anywhere, I mean, literally just your room.”

“Nah, it’s fine, I can come in to the office next week,” Jihoon replied without thinking twice, then realized what he said and added, “you can make sure your granddad’s fine.” He internally sighed, believing he made a good save. However, a dead silence hung in the Discord call, even after the loud ‘Match found’ reverberated, breaking the silence for a second.

“What did you say?”

“What?” Jihoon tried to play dumb, then added, “I’m playing Gekko,” to change the subject.

“Did you just say you’re willing to leave the comforts of your own home to work from office?” Wonwoo asked again, clearly twisting Jihoon’s words causing him to roll his eyes. His colleague then added, in a faux tone of panic, “The end of the world is nearing, isn’t it?”

“Shut up and pick your damn agent.”

“Are you even Jihoon right now?”

Jihoon defended himself, “I can want to work from office from time-to-time, you know?” Wonwoo was exaggerating, wanting to work from office is tiring, but nothing is more boring than working alone with only a dumb FPS game there to entertain you every time you’re free. Admittedly, he found working while being surrounded with other people was enjoyable—he wasn’t a social butterfly, didn’t make an effort to start a conversation by the coffee machine either, but it was… nice being around others every now and then. Humans are meant to be social creatures, after all.

“You have been working from home ever since probation had ended, which was literally two years ago, Jihoon,” Wonwoo reiterated, “you have been working from home since.”

“That’s not true.” He frowned, the comment caught him off guard and he almost started the round with buying any abilities. “I worked three days last October.”

“Which was, what? Nine month ago?” He couldn’t rebuttal that. It’s common knowledge among his peers that he despises working from office—Jihoon knows that, too. It’s just that this week has changed his mind. People can change their mind. “I have to bribe you with Valorant just so you come to company dinners, and now you want to willingly cover me for another week? For free?”

An irritated groan shook his chest as his character died on screen. “Damn it—” He pushed to talk, “90 on Reyna.” He fell back into his chair with a sigh, annoyed that Wonwoo was ruining his focus on the game—it was supposed to be his rank up to Ascendant 3. “Okay, and what’s your point?”

Jihoon swears he could hear the guy smirk. “I know.”

“You’re being annoying, you’re distracting me.”

Wonwoo paid no mind to his complaints, hitting clean headshots on the enemy but the spike detonated causing them to lose the round. Despite that, Wonwoo kept his cool as he continued to taunt his colleague. “Vernon told me about your round trips to and from the Marketing team.” He was definitely grinning now. "The problem is, I know Saerom’s team don’t usually need any help from IT support—at least, not to the point to where you need to go there twice a day.”

Jihoon cursed under his breath as he, once again, misses his utility and gets killed barely ten seconds into the round. This time he doesn’t even bother to communicate with his team, in fear of his voice shaking in anticipation of Wonwoo’s suspicions. “Except for one person,” his peer begins, letting the silence drag between the two as he focused on the game, getting three kills in a row, winning the round for them. Then Wonwoo asks, Jihoon picturing a shit-eating grin on his damned face. “Y/N’s cute, isn’t she?”

“I’m forfeiting.” Jihoon presses slash then F, to which it was denied, their teammates sending in question marks in response. Wonwoo’s burst out laughing at Jihoon’s ‘missclicked sorry’ reply. “Focus on the game—if I derank, it’s on you.”

Wonwoo’s laughter only grew louder, letting himself have the last word. “Jihoon enjoying working from office wasn’t on my 2024 bingo.”

Neither was it on Jihoon’s because he never enjoys working from office. Whatever friendly and social air that was present the previous week wasn’t present now as he finds himself at the wrath of the Operation’s team manager.

“I was on a call with Miyoung and she told me she couldn’t access their website, Jihoon,” Eunkwang scolded, his greying brows forming deep crevices disguised as wrinkles between his eyebrows and across the length of his forehead. “You’re supposed to be on top of this—she couldn’t access it the whole weekend, Jihoon, what happened? We’ve never faced this problem before.” Yes they have, Jihoon recalled, it happens when you run an agency that barely gathers clients and doesn’t really care enough to provide quality platform options, either, but of course Eunkwang says the same argument. Talk about selective amnesia.

“I don’t care how long it takes for you to fix it—” Might take half an hour, could’ve dealt with it within the time you’re yelling at me but I’ll shut up, Jihoon bitterly thought but kept his lips pressed in a tight line. “I want it done until Miyoung calls to confirm.”

Once he was sure the old man was done projecting his anger, Jihoon bowed his head, uttering, “Understood.” He turned his body to climb up the stairs to the third floor, grumbling to himself how this wouldn’t have happened if he worked at home because he wouldn’t be tired from commuting and socializing during the weekends and could monitor the websites every now and then. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case because he was tired, and he is still tired, he hates working in the office, he doesn’t even know why he agree to go for another week, he could’ve been at home and in a Valorant Swiftplay by now—

“Jihoon?” He turned to find you, standing by the door of your team’s room, a timid look on your face. Something had happened, he could see it written all over your soft features as you eyed him wordlessly. Without saying anything, he followed you towards your desk, where you idly by your computer with pursed lips and furrowed brows.

The dreaded blue screen. It had only reached 15% and didn’t seem to budge even after three minutes of watching it.

“For God’s sake,” Jihoon cursed under his breath, however, it was loud enough for you to hear it and the unusual sharpness in his tone caused you to jump slightly, your heart beginning to race in your chest as his face contorted into frustration. “How did you manage to get stuck like this?”

“I-I don’t know.” God, you hated it when you started stuttering. It always made you look stupid and helpless. You inhaled a quick breath, hoping it would help calm the nerves that seemed to climb the more you avoided his intense gaze. “I was coming back from my break and turned it on, and it did this… I didn’t do anything, I swear…” If your lack of technological capabilities looked pitiful to Jihoon, your inability of forming a coherent and sensible answer was the cherry on top. “I’m really sorry.”

Upon seeing her stricken face, Jihoon inhaled a deep breath, letting his tensed shoulders fall. “No, Y/N, I should be sorry. I’m taking my anger out on you, you just needed help.” He glances back at your monitor, heaving another sigh. “Just leave it, it should be able to restart on its own, but if it doesn’t, just tell me.”

“Alright…” Would it be even more pathetic to say you were fighting away tears? You had to turn your head a bit, angling away from Jihoon so your hair fell to cover your face enough for him to not notice your obvious internal battle with letting your emotions take over. “I’m really sorry I keep bothering you with not being tech-savvy.”

An ache thumped in his chest hearing your apology, sounding defeated. “It’s fine, Y/N,” he tried to reassure you, but he knew damn well the damaged was done and whatever unspoken agreement to two of you had, had gone. Jihoon knew he was terrible with people, but he really messed up with ruining it with you—the one person that made coming into work, commuting back and forth, and facing nagging higher-ups, the least bit bearable.

It didn’t seem to register in him how bad the damage was until he got through the day without any messages from you. Even Jeonghan was surprised as the day was coming to a close. “Y/N didn’t come in?”

“She did,” Jihoon mumbled.

“And she didn’t need any help?” He only shrugged, trying to hide his own bewilderment. Did his words strike you that much? He decided to message you, just in case you were reluctant to ask him for help.

Jihoon: Y/N Jihoon: Everything alright?

He waited on the edge of his seat, his heart skipping a beat when you began typing back.

Y/N: Yes, everything’s fine ^__^

Everything was, in fact, not fine.

Not only did your computer take almost an hour to restart after the dreaded blue screen, whatever the computer had gone through during said hour had your accounts logged out, and you, being clumsy, misplaced the sticky note that Jihoon gave you, forcing you to borrow someone else’s computer to pull up the Instagram analytics. Fortunately, most of your inputted data was still available from before your break, it was still a hassle to transfer the data from your colleague’s computer to your own, and because, once again, you are tech-savvy, you didn’t know any shortcut. You had to turn to Google, open up YouTube tutorials on Excel shortcuts, consuming almost an hour of your day trying to learn everything from scratch.

But you promised yourself you wouldn’t bother him with any measly problems if Google already had a solution.

Even it meant running into the risk of never seeing him again.

Two days had passed. It was Wednesday and Jihoon was ready to pack up and head back to his old life of working from the comforts of his bedroom. Two days without his favourite snacks. Two days without his functioning PC that he paid hundreds, probably thousands of dollars to build. Two days without his fast Wi-Fi that was optimal for a quick ranked game.

And two days without the usual ping of his Google Chat, the room with you now collecting dust as the last message exchanged was his check-in on Monday.

Now Wednesday’s work day comes to an end without your plea for technological aid. You’re genuinely the only thing in this bleak, rundown, cheap company that makes the work worthwhile, Jihoon couldn’t help but think to himself on the train back home.

Was it pathetic of him to think of you as a reason to wake up in the morning, fight the morning rush and sit through eight hours of blank staring at a computer screen if it means he can get a glimpse of you every now and then when he goes down to get another fix of shitty coffee? The two of you only officially met last week after all, and yet, he has grown drawn to you, attached even, finding the brief sight of you as you sat by your desk, an ever-so-present clueless look to your face as you try to remember how to VLOOKUP the third time. He finds endearing, so endearing that his heart aches and his days grow grey when he hasn’t seen you yet.

Has he always been one to fall so quick for someone?

Would it be even more pathetic for him to fear that feeling? Mind you, he has never left the house unless bribed to, social interactions were scarce aside from the call outs to teammates in his ranked games, and even then, he never bothered to make small talk with the people he’d temporarily need to rank up. Was he a bit too deprived of social interactions that meeting you overwhelmed him to the point of creating a false sense of falling in l—

“Wonwoo, when are you coming back?” This time the two weren’t in a game of Valorant. Thank God, Wonwoo had thought when Jihoon asked to get on a Discord call. The latter had dinner prepared and was watching Big Bang Theory while on the call, but his head wasn’t focused on neither the ramen nor the TV show. “Can we switch back soon?”

“What happened to your willingness to go to the office?” Again, that damned smirk was noticeable in the way he spoke, but Jihoon needed to keep his cool.

“Changed my mind.”

“How come?”

“Sick and tired of being in the direct line of shot for Eunkwang’s spit when he yells at me,” he half-lied. He had to wash his face after that meeting, to the point he used the strawberry-scented hand soap to make sure he couldn’t feel the droplets on his skin.

“Oh yeah, Jeonghan told me.” A pause. “Sorry that happened to you, but it’s just Eunkwang, his ammunition is making you work overtime every now and then.”

“I just don’t want to deal with him every now and then, much rather read him yell in the group chats than in real life.”

There was a longer pause now, Jihoon’s eyes glanced at his second monitor just to make sure his friend didn’t disconnect. Then, Wonwoo spoke up, tone matter-of-factly and the shit-eating grin heard clearly. “Vernon tells me you haven’t been to the Marketing room in a bit.”

“Vernon you piece of shit snitch,” Jihoon cursed under his breath, but obviously his microphone caught it, Wonwoo throwing his head back in laughter.

“I’m guessing the Tech-Illiterate hasn’t been asking for your help?”

“Y/N,” Jihoon corrected, not liking the term used—even if it did fit you.

“Hey, there are a lot of tech-illiterate people in our company,” Wonwoo pointed out, then added, “so I guess you admit it then, you’re thinking of her.”

His eyes roll far back, he gets a mild ache in his temples. “Fine yeah,” he admits with a defeated sigh, “she doesn’t need any more help from me so why should I even bother to go to the office?”

“For work, Jihoon,” he says casually. “I mean, you get compensation to come to work. Extra money.”

“I’m already rich enough,” he responds, clearly dodging.

“Then why work?”

“I’m bored.”

“You piss me off.” Wonwoo’s comment successfully makes Jihoon chuckle. “I hope Y/N becomes so tech-savvy that she doesn’t need your help anymore, and you will never see her again.”

“Asshole,” he hisses and disconnects from the call immediately, Wonwoo’s words pushed to the back of his head as he finished his ramen and closed the TV show, opening Valorant for a quick game to relieve the stress built up for the day.

Unfortunately, once he laid on his bed, eyes stuck on the ceiling, his peers’ words returned tenfold, echoing a sickening mantra in his head. What if you do end up learning how to do your job with little to no help, technology-wise? It’s hard for the guy to admit (and a tad bit dramatic), but he truly did feel like his entire being has lighten since meeting you.

Maybe he is deprived of social interaction, and you were the fix he needed, but didn’t want it to be temporary. He wanted to know everything about you, the reason why you struggle with technology and remembering passwords and working different Google suites. He wanted to know why you chose this line of work, why this shitty company, and why hadn’t he met you before.

He wanted to know more about you, and he doesn’t want to ruin the chances of being able to do so.

Although it might be pathetic of him to feel so strongly over someone he only met the previous week, he knew this would be a missed opportunity to not get to know you better, that it would become his biggest regret and he didn’t want his leaving the comforts of his WFA routine be for nothing.

So, he had a plan. A bit of a cheesy, cliché of a plan, but a plan and he lost sleep wondering if it’ll work or not.

As he entered the office, his mind kept replaying what he needed to do. It was simple, he just needed to wait for you to reach out to him, ask for help with an issue and it should be smooth-sailing from there, all depends on your answer, of course, but that was something he could worry about later.

Phase one starts with you and your uncooperative computer.

Jihoon waited, eyes glancing between tabs where his Google Chat was opened, looking at the bottom right corner of his computer at the time, watching the time tick by and still no ping from you. But that was okay, it was only two hours into this gloomy Thursday, there was still a whole seven hours before he could truly panic.

So he waited more.

And more.

And more.

He waited until he couldn’t wait, and time was running out. Eyes shifted towards the clock: 16.39.

Less than thirty minutes until the work day, and tomorrow is Friday, and he needed to get this done today because if he didn’t then, it’ll mess up his plan for tomorrow (which depends on your answer, too, if you say ‘yes’ then there’s another plan for that, but if you say ‘no’ then Wonwoo was already back in the city so he could cover for Jihoon while the latter wallows).

“Fuck it,” Jihoon mutters as he pushes himself up out of his chair, causing everyone else in the room jumps and turns to his desk, only to see him already out the door and rushing down the stairs.

“Go get her, man,” Jeonghan utters, loud enough for everyone to chime along with him.

With long strides and quick steps down to your floor, everyone Jihoon seemed to past knew he was a man on a mission—a man on a mission for you. He tries to ignore the mild chills that rose up his spine at that thought. He might be pathetic sometimes, but he likes to believe he can be quite the cheesy romantic, despite what his friends might say.

As expected, since it had been a slow day, a lot of staff had clocked out early, their jobs for the day done and all ready to end the work week. However, you were still by your desk, focused on the task at hand, only two of your coworkers in the room with you, but even they were mindlessly playing with their Excel sheets, waiting for the clock to strike five.

When he stood close enough to you, he saw that you weren’t focused on a task, instead on a game of Minesweepers. He watched you win a game, pursing his lips and nodding, visibly impressed. Sensing a present, you turned around and jumped slightly. “Jihoon… Hi.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he greets back with a stiff smile. “Is everything alright?”

A brief look of confusion passed your face, glancing between him and your computer, before nodding, “Yeah, everything’s fine.” And it was. You got through your day just fine, nothing needed to be troubleshooted, or restarted. You didn’t panic, other than when you forget to send a file to Saerom, but everything—technology-wise—was fine.

“Really? I got a notification on my computer that there was something wrong with yours,” Jihoon lied through his teeth. He didn’t, but he needed you away from your computer so he has ample time to put his plan in motion. His statement caused your brows to furrow together, genuinely confused because you didn’t receive any notification from your own computer, shouldn’t that be the case? Unless you did, and you didn’t noticed because you were too focused on your Minesweeper game.

“Oh…”

“Yeah…” Jihoon rubbed a nonexistent itch at the back of his neck. “Are you done with your work? It might take a bit for me to check it.”

“Oh yeah, I’m done for the day,” you said, then to the clock above the door. “I didn’t realize it was almost five.”

If you could hear anything right now, it would be the pounding beat of his heart against his chest as he tries to formulate an excuse to get you off the computer. “It won’t take more than ten minutes, though, Y/N.”

“Alright, I’m just going to fill my water bottle and clean up while you deal with it.” With a stern nod, Jihoon watched as you stood and walked out the room. Once outside, he took his spot and started his plan.

Recalling the steps he saw on Google, opening Notepad as he pulled out the sticky note where he wrote the code beforehand, typing it in and inserting the necessary message. Once he had saved it, he tested it once, and almost yelled out in triumph when it worked, displaying a fake error message.

“What’s the problem, Jihoon?” You approached him, bottle filled to the top with water. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, you just…” He stood from his chair, gesturing for you to sit. He leaned down, keeping one hand on the back of your chair as the other guided you. “You just need to click that, it’s to install a… an update… Yeah, an update.”

“This one? The ‘Critical Inquiry’ one?” Jihoon hummed in response and watched with sweaty hands and a racing heart as you clicked it, an error message popping up on your screen.

Is this how IT guys flirt? The blood in your face travelled the distance to your cheeks, a bright pink beneath the glow of your skin as you tried suppressing your smile, Jihoon’s way of asking you out so unconventional, so out of the blue, so unique, that you couldn’t help but mentally applaud him, this was a new way you’d been asked out.

“What’s your option?” Jihoon asked, his voice so clearly on edge as he anticipated your answer, for a second even worried you’d decline then he’d be forced to return to his hermit habits and hide his embarrassment.

All that tension, no matter how hard he tried to hide it behind a nonchalant façade, was visible to you and gosh, he is so cute.

You sent him a smile, turning back to your computer wordlessly, letting your choice speak. Your cursor hovered towards the options, for a second too long it hovered over ‘No’, Jihoon’s breath hitching in his throat before his heart skipped a beat as the cursor moved and you clicked your mouse right on ‘Yes’.

The two of you stared at each other, a warmth in your eyes, and brightness in his, sharing a knowing smile before he uttered with the confidence he mustered between the panic.

“I’ll pick up at eight then, Y/N.”

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, drinking, not my best work lol Wordcount: 6.6K A/C: so have we come up with a shipname for zari and paige yet?? anyways ty all for the support and sooo much love on the last part - especially those who remained patient for a new part! i've got a LOT of stuff going on rn so please be understanding if parts take a little longer to come out! i wanna write badly but i gotta prioritise real life unless y'all wanna start paying me lol anyways, this should be a rewarding chapter to some of y'all!! anyways go read!!

-

Before London

“The skirt,” my childhood friend Olivia’s voice filters through the speaker, my phone set up on my bed as I try on different outfits for the evening on facetime. 

I stare into my reflection, the black miniskirt not leaving much to imagination, my legs fully on display. I sigh, unsure whether it would be too much for the night.

“I don’t know Liv, the dress is a little less revealing though,” I complain, turning around and seeing the way the tight skirt hugs my curves.

“Exactly why you should wear the skirt instead.”

I laugh, shaking my head at her face on my phone screen. “I’m not going there to shag someone. It’s going to be mostly the team anyway.”

“Izzie, you are single now. Act like it. Have you even hooked up with anyone since…?”

I scoff. “Do you think I have time for anything like that?”

“Maybe if you schedule it in…” Olivia jokes, making my mouth fall open feeling offended.

“Hey! I’m perfectly happy being single right now. Love is the last thing I should be thinking about.”

“Well, I still think you should wear the skirt,” the girl answers, making me groan.

“Fine, okay gotta go. I’ll text you!” I wave bye, before hanging up, realising my ride must have arrived. One more glance in the mirror and I decide it will do - the black mini skirt and a matching black cowl neck top, the back draped low to reveal the smooth skin of my back along my spine. The outfit was simple yet sexy, the stacked chunky golden jewelry dressing the look up. I’ve pinned my hair up in a bun, curls falling out as if by accident - in reality the hairdo had taken over 45 minutes to accomplish.

“Good enough,” I murmur to myself, putting on my boots and quickly hurrying out the door. Just like we had agreed, Trey is waiting in an Uber, waving me over. He had sent me a message earlier asking if we could ride together. Of course I had said yes out of politeness. Though if I’m honest, I always felt a little uneasy around him.

“Hey!” I smile politely climbing into the backseat with a potted orchid in my hands.

Trey meets my smile with an even wider one, eyeing me up and down as I buckle my seatbelt.

“Housewarming present?” He asks, pointing to the potted flower. I shrug and nod.

“I didn’t really know what to get them,” I admit, crossing my legs and eyeing the purple and white flower.

“Lala’s gonna love that,” Trey nods, his eyes still locked on me and my outfit. “You look…” he goes silent, and from my peripheral vision I see the man shaking his head. “Really good.”

“Oh, thanks,” I mumble, brushing it off lightheartedly as I grab my phone which is frantically buzzing.

Paige  When are u coming? I’m already here and idk anyone Oh nvm Lou and Chris are here So… when u coming???

I feel my stomach doing flips as I read the texts, my mind still swirling with how she’d made me breakfast just earlier this morning. How my couch still smells just like her even hours later. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something comforting about her presence. The way she worked to make me laugh, to get me to relax. Like she wanted to take care of me.

Just left so I should be there soon x

Izzie Iz Help We’re drinking wine

Time to be a big girl and learn Paige

But I don’t wanna 🙁 Fine Bc you said so

Good girl

Freaky 😏

Paige

Sorry I pregamed

Of course you did I’ll be there soon x

Giggling at my phone, I place it on my lap, not wanting to be rude towards the man sitting next to me. Trey’s eyes are locked on me, and I can feel myself growing uneasy, especially when I realise I have nothing to talk to him about other than work.

”You excited for tonight?” He asks.

”Yeah, it’s going to be nice to see everyone out of work,” I answer, keeping my composure despite feeling awkward, begging he doesn’t pick up on it. I had become quite good at that (or Trey was more ignorant than I realised).

”Oh yeah, you haven’t really had the chance to do that yet huh?” He asks, his deep voice gravelly.

“Not really no.”

“Well, if you ever get lonely, you can always call me up Zari,” Trey says, reaching over and suddenly placing his hand on mine resting on my lap. I keep still as long as I can before pulling it away, pretending I just needed that specific hand to hold the pot in my lap now.

“Uh, yeah that’s really sweet of you. Thank you,” I chuckle awkwardly. “Paige lives right upstairs actually so I’ve been spending some time with her.”

Trey is taken aback, his brows rising. “Paige?”

“Yeah we’re friends,” I smile. Trey’s dark brown eyes keep watching me, clearly thinking about something till he shrugs and looks away. 

The drive is quiet, full of awkward comments by the man clearly eager to make conversation. Normally I was better than this at the small talk that the Americans seemed to love so much - but not today. I could feel my stomach twisting with nerves and butterflies in anticipation for the evening. I wasn’t entirely sure why. But all I knew I was eager to see Paige - she had a way of grounding me.

We finally get to the building, awkwardly accompanying each other in the elevator much like my first day working for the Wings. I’m the one to ring the doorbell, Trey standing close behind me.

“Hey pretty girl!” Lala opens the door with a warm smile. “Oh hey Trey, come in come in!”

She steps aside, letting both of us in. The hallway is long and the ceilings are high, the space modern but filled with gorgeous furniture bringing warmth into the space. 

“Wow, beautiful,” I gasp looking around.

“Issa work in process,” Lala laughs. I catch a glimpse into the open concept kitchen/living room, filled with people who had arrived on time unlike me and Trey (our Uber had taken a “shortcut”, which ended up taking 15 minutes longer than the normal drive.) I could tell alcohol was already flowing from the loud laughs echoing around the apartment.

“Oh, here you go!” I smile, handing Lala the orchid. “I wasn’t sure what you two wanted so I hope that’s okay.”

Lala gasps, admiring the plant. “No, this is gorg! And so are you, look at that skirt girl.”

I blush a little as she spins me around, admiring my outfit. 

“Is it too short?” I ask but Lala looks at me with raised brows. It’s then I notice her skirt is just as short, if not shorter. “Nevermind!”

The woman laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me further into the apartment. My eyes immediately land on Paige next to Arike, both taking up half of the couch as if partaking in the Olympics of manspreading. Their laughs rise above the chatter of the crowd, making them impossible to miss. Even if subconsciously I had been looking for the blonde the second I stepped in.

“Yeah… they’re already drunk, thought you should know,” Lala nods towards the two.

“I heard, Paige was texting me already.”

The woman turns to me grinning a little. “Of course she was.” I’m not exactly sure what it means but don’t get the opportunity to ask before I hear a loud screech interrupting the both of us.

“Izzie!!” Paige gasps, her voice soaring above the noise. She climbs off the couch, rushing to me through the crowd. To my surprise the blonde wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. I can’t help the smile that spreads to my face. It comes naturally, when my arms wrap around her neck, pulling her in. Like since our first hug this morning, physical closeness felt easy. She smells like deodorant, sandalwood and a hint of alcohol. Breaking the hug, I eye her fit up and down - the olive cuban collar shirt and shorts in a matching pattern, two silver chains dangling on her neck, hair in a slicked back bun. 

All while I’ve been admiring Paige’s outfit, her gaze has been roaming across my body, taking me in. I notice a hint of red burning on her cheeks when her blue eyes land on my skirt. Suddenly I have the strongest need for a drink. Our stares meet, and for a fleeting moment I think she’s about to say something. But before she can, Arike is pulling me into a friendly hug.

“So glad you came, Zari! Whatchu wanna drink?” 

I feel flustered, barely hearing her. Clearing my throat, I finally answer, feeling the blonde’s eyes boring into me.

“White wine please?”

Lala laughs, shaking her head and grabbing my shoulders. “You’re gonna need something stronger to keep up with us baby.”

I laugh. “Okay, tequila soda then?”

“Attagirl, lime?”

“Yes please,” I nod, watching Lala and Arike head towards the kitchen island covered in bottles of booze and glasses, leaving me alone with Paige. 

For the first time in weeks, there’s a sense of awkwardness between us, neither of us knowing what to say. I wanted to tell her she looks good, that the olive against her skin that had grown more tan in Dallas made her glow in a way I had never seen before. But something in my throat doesn’t allow the words to come out. Thankfully the booze in Paige’s system makes her miss the weird tension completely.

“You look,” she starts, stepping closer to me, arm brushing against mine. She shakes her head, looking me up and down which is enough to make my ears burn. “Never seen you look like this before.”

I tilt my head, meeting her blue eyes challengingly. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

To my enjoyment, this makes her flustered, her cheeks bright pink now.

“You know it is ma,” she grins.

“You and that bloody nickname,” I shake my head, rolling my eyes at the blonde, when Lala and Arike return to us with my drink.

“You guys wanna play beer pong?” Arike asks as I grab the glass from Lala.

“What is this, a frat house?” Paige laughs, making Lala groan.

“Trust, it wasn’t my choice.”

-

After a long debate between me, Izzie, Arike and Lala on who should be teaming up, we decided that the only fair combination was me with Lala, while Arike and Izzie played against us - the girls claiming it wouldn’t be right for the two hoopers to play beer pong against non-athletes. Honestly, I barely had listened to the conversation at all. Because the way Izzie looks tonight has me grasping the drink in my hand so tight my knuckles were beginning to turn white. My mind is travelling to the filthiest places at the thought of what is underneath the hemline of her skirt, her glowy legs making me weak in the knees. Even worse was the low, scooped back of her shirt, her spine’s movement visible as she walked around the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, I couldn’t even stop the trembling of my hands. I needed to get more drinks in me quickly.

It seemed like the dark haired girl had the same idea, downing her first tequila soda in a matter of minutes as we set up the game. The tension often visible on her face only to me was slowly beginning to melt away.

“We’re about to win aight?” I tell Lala next to me, which makes Izzie let out a loud scoff.

“You really think I’ll let you win Bueckers?” The dark haired girl asks, challenging me.

“Yo, who’s the athlete here,” I respond, an arrogant grin on my face but she won’t back down, catlike eyes staring me down at the opposite end of the table.

“You’re enormously underestimating my desire to win.”

“Oh yeah?”

Izzie nods. “Yes Paige.”

And she’s right. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol already flowing in my system, or the way Izara looks, her green eyes locked on me everytime I bounce the ball off the table but my aim is off. And somehow she keeps aiming perfectly, a sly grin and her sharp eyes glimmering as she makes me drink one cup of beer after another, after another until Lala is the one to call it off, admitting defeat gracefully.

Arike and Izara hug, celebrating their win, but I can’t even be mad - the way Izzie’s mouth is stretched into a wide smile, the way she was letting go off her disciplined, hard exterior as a result of the alcohol was such a joy to watch I could’ve soaked in it forever.

“I told you! I told you!” Iz laughs, coming over to me and getting up in my face. But all I’m doing is smirking, my hand snaking around her waist and pulling her close without thinking about it much. But she doesn’t pull away either, even when our fronts nearly press together, heat radiating between us. The party has turned loud, drunk people bumping into each other, yelling over the music, but all I see is the dark haired girl in front of me, and the blush on her cheeks.

“You were cheating Iz,” I tell her, heavy eyes gazing down at the girl.

“How?” She asks, stunned.

I shrug. “I dunno.” I did know. It was that damn outfit. It took every ounce of self-discipline I had not to drag her to the bathroom and pull that skirt up. How was I expected to aim while my thoughts were running out of control.

“Here you areeeee!” Satou’s voice interrupts the moment, making me stumble backwards and letting go of the girl in my arms realising how close I’d been to losing control and leaning down to kiss her.

Satou hugs both me and Iz, looking around for the couple of the hour who have suddenly disappeared. “Where the lovebirds at?” She asks, holding a wrapped present in her hands. I chuckle shrugging but Zari lets out a giggle.

“Last I saw them they were getting pretty cosy,” she laughs, leaning into my side whether on purpose or on accident I’m not sure. But it leaves my skin tingling.

“No one’s surprised,” Satou laughs, waving her friend over. “Savannah, this is Paige and… Izara, right?” 

“She prefers Zari,” I correct before Iz can even say a word. From my peripheral vision I see her head snap to me, eyes growing softer as they land on me. I could tell she was happy with me, which made me want to get on my knees and beg for her to let me serve her forever. Okay, no, let me get a grip.

“Whassup,” I nod at Savannah, who smiles at both me and Izzie. Suddenly, the girl beside me stumbles as someone bumps into her, crashing straight into me.

“Woah,” I grab a hold of her, my hand naturally landing on the small of her back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she giggles, watching me and her nose scrunching as her face twists into a laugh. The sparkling eyeshadow covering her eyelids makes her shine even more, curled strands falling onto her face out of the updo her long, dark hair is in. She looks so beautiful I feel breathless, even more so up close.

“You want a drink ma? I could use one,” I ask, staring into the green of her eyes, feeling the alcohol too much to realise that our faces are only inches away at this point.

She rolls her eyes. “Paige, I hate that nickname.”

“Do you want a drink or not woman?” I ask annoyed, teasing her. But her face hardens, and her eyes sharpen.

“Excuse me?”

Her tone is hard and serious, making my lower abdomen flip. As inappropriate as it feels, I’m exceptionally turned on.

I swallow, biting my lower lip. “Uh…”

“Woman?” She interrupts me, furrowing her brows. I can feel heat pooling between my legs, making my mind spin.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, my voice coming out shaky from how flustered my thoughts had turned me.

“What’s that?” She asks, brows rising as she watches my mouth expectantly.

“I’m sorry Izzie,” I say louder, my chest heaving now. To my surprise, I notice her breathing is growing heavy too.

“Mhm, that’s better,” she nods, eyes still on my mouth as I bite down on my lower lip. And for just a second, as my eyes flicker from her eyes to her glossed lips, I consider leaning in and pressing a kiss on them, mind jumping to how she might taste. Like heaven I bet.

“So a drink then?” Iz asks, interrupting my spinning thoughts. 

“Oh right, yeah,” I compose myself, “we’ll be right back.”

We leave Satou and Savannah alone, my hand on the small of Izara’s back guiding her through the people to the kitchen island.

“What do we want to drink?” The girl asks, looking at the row of bottles lining the counter. I lean in even closer to her side, letting my hand drag from her back to around her waist. The girl’s breath hitches audibly, yet she doesn’t pull back.

“Shots! Now!” Arike suddenly interrupts us, Lala following close behind her.

“Bro where you been?” I ask, watching as she begins to pour shots of vodka for all four of us. Her and Lala exchange a look that tells me I don’t want to know the answer to my question.

“Nevermind,” I mumble, making Izzie giggle, the alcohol finally loosening her up.

“No, I really shouldn’t,” the dark haired girl shakes her head, pushing the shot away.

“Oh c’mooonnn!!” I groan, pushing it back.

“Yeah Zari, c’mon,” Rike complains.

I pick up my own shot glass, and Izara’s as well, bringing it to her lips. She’s considering, meeting my gaze, until her pretty lips open and I tip the glass, pouring the shot into her mouth as I throw my head back, swallowing mine. 

“Holy shit,” I cough, making everyone around me laugh, looking at the dark haired girl whose face doesn’t even twitch from the alcohol. Damn.

“And another oneeee,” Arike laughs, now pouring tequila into the glasses, clearly trying to get us two drunk. I glare at her, picking up on what she was up to. But Rike merely winks at me, handing us salt and lemon slices.

“Oh boy,” Izara chuckles, eyeing the alcohol. I follow closely as her tongue darts out to lick her wrist, my mind spinning with dirty thoughts involving that tongue between my le-

“Lemon!” The girl yelps, squeezing her eyes shut having taken the shot. I quickly grab the slice from the counter, holding Izzie’s face still by her chin as I place the wedge between her lips. Her teeth bite into it, sucking on the bitter fruit to get rid of the taste in her mouth.

Her dark lashes flutter open, and she pulls away with a grin. “Your turn.”

I scratch the back of my neck, feeling my tongue already growing numb from the alcohol, my speech certainly beginning to slur soon.

“Yo Zari, you should let Paige lick the salt from your wrist,” Arike yells from the opposite side of the counter, earning a slap on the shoulder from Lala.

“Huh?” Izara laughs, turning to the pair.

“Ignore her, God knows I do,” Lala rolls her eyes.

Flustered, I fumble with the salt shaker, licking it off my hand and downing the shot of tequila, feeling the burn in my throat making me want to cough. To my surprise, Iz brings the slice of lemon to my lips, the bitter taste putting an end to the burn.

I can feel the alcohol hitting, making my cheeks burn - or maybe it’s the way the dark haired girl is looking at me, her eyes even more catlike than normal, sparkling in the dimmed lighting. Either way I can feel my brain and mouth beginning to slow down, yet my words and actions seem simultaneously sped up, like I couldn’t think them through before doing.

“I’mma admit, I’m drunk as fuck,” I laugh, making Izara throw her head back and let out a bright chuckle, grabbing onto my shoulder as she does. Fuck she looks hotter than usual, the hard, poised exterior breaking, letting me catch little glimpses into her internal life, reminiscent of the softness on her face when she fell asleep on me.

“Let’s run away before Arike makes us take more shots,” she whispers and simultaneously somehow screams, grabbing my arm and dragging me down behind the island, as if Arike and Lala weren’t standing right on the other side, watching the two of us. Still I let her, crouching behind it and letting her drag me wherever she wants to. 

-

I love Dallas! Or maybe I should reconsider when I’m sober, but now that the shots and drinks had been flowing, I had decided I loved Dallas for certain. Paige and I have been hiding behind a corner, by the entrance to Arike’s and Lala’s bedroom, for the past hour, giggling and talking. I’ve realised Paige might be one of my favourite people I’ve ever met, the strain in my abs a reminder of how easily she made me laugh. How effortless it was to spend time with her, like I didn’t have to put up any exterior or front. I felt comfortable being myself with her. So naturally, in my drunken state, the words slip from my lips easily.

“You’re like, my favourite person right now,” I giggle, leaning my back against the cool wall and watching upwards at her. Paige’s eyes are heavy and red as a result of the alcohol, hair somehow still neatly slicked back, however a button on her chest left unbuttoned, displaying that she definitely wasn’t wearing a bra under the shirt.

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a proud smirk on her face. She’s standing in front of me, arms crossed.

“Don’t let it get into your head darling,” I scoff, pushing her off by her abdomen, feeling the muscles there tighten when my fingertips graze her through the shirt. For whatever reason I’d been wanting her to touch me all night, enjoying the times she wrapped her arm around my waist, or guided me through a crowd. It felt good to be touched, so I didn’t worry about what it meant further. I just wanted her hands on me. Like you’d want to hug a friend after remembering how much you love them.

“Why do you get to have all these nicknames but I don’t get to call you ma?” She asks, stumbling back but returning to her prior position, if not a little closer. I place my hands on her waist, having to tilt my head to look at her - that’s how close she is.

“Why do you want to call me ma?”

“Because,” she groans, looking for something to say. “Ion know it suits you.”

“Why?” I laugh.

“Because you’re sexy.”

I’m drunk. And I know it’s because I’m drunk. It has to be. But I can feel myself begin to throb between my legs when Paige says those words, when her teeth bite onto her bottom lip, when she looks me up and down. Suddenly I’m painfully aware of the swirling in my lower abdomen, the heat spreading straight to my core.

The blonde rubs the bridge of her nose. “Ahh shit Iz, I didn’t mean it like that. My bad. You just look really damn good. In like a friend wa-”

“You think I look sexy?”

It’s like my mouth and brain aren’t working together, the words just forming and leaving my lips without a single thought or action to stop them. For some reason it comes out almost whiny. Like I want her opinion, her reassurance.

Paige looks surprised, clenching her jaw before kissing her teeth and licking her lips, hands twitching as if for something to touch.

“I meannn… you really gotta ask that?” She says hoarsely, stepping closer and placing her hands on my hips. It feels good, but I want more, pushing my body off the wall and pressing my front against her. The sparks are immediate, and I nearly groan at the contact. 

“You didn’t answer,” I demand, staring into the blues of her eyes. Only then I realise how blue they really are, like a turquoise ocean against a sandy beach, inviting, beautiful. My heart begins to pound, even more so when I feel Paige’s hands move from my waist, downwards to my hips, to the small of my back, and finally to my ass. 

“Perfect,” she coos.

The breath she lets out is heavy, loud, but I barely register, my mouth parting a little. To say the chills travelling through my body are overwhelming would be an understatement, my mind suddenly spinning with realisation of something I’d been feeling for a while, yet only recognised now.

“Is this okay?” Paige asks, making me nod my head. When I do so I feel the blonde’s hands squeeze just a little, forcing a breathy whimper to spill from my lips. Overcome with the urge to be even closer to her, I wrap my arms around the girl’s broad shoulders and lean my head into the crook of her neck, my body slotting against hers just right. It feels euphoric.

 “Baby I would leave too if I was Paige, that poor girl got to deal with you on a daily basis alr-”

Suddenly Lala’s voice grows louder as she turns the corner, Arike on her tail. 

“Oh, sorry y’all,” the woman gasps seeing us embracing, Paige’s hands resting on my ass. Embarrassed, I pull away, nearly pushing the blonde off of me.

“Uh, I need a drink,” I murmur, my thoughts moving so quickly they make no sense, not even entirely sure what just happened in a drunken hue.

“Yoooo,” I hear Arike snickering, and Lala shutting her up.

Paige follows close behind me all the way back to the kitchen island, people around the apartment now notably drunker, louder, stumbling into each other. “You aight?” 

“Yeah, yes. I am,” I murmur, pouring whatever booze there was in reach into a glass and downing it, attempting to calm the running thoughts trying to make sense of all of this.

“You sure ma?”

Fuck. The nickname. Suddenly it’s making my core burn, and I feel arousal pooling between my legs almost uncomfortably. Maybe that nickname wasn’t so bad. Maybe it got me so hot and bothered I could barely think. Maybe I wanted her to call me that and only that for the rest of my life.

“Mm, I’m sure,” I mumble, turning to look at the tall blonde beside me, the way some of the buttons on her shirt have come undone, the way she’s eyeing me back, her veiny hands wrapping around a bottle as she pours herself another drink, the chains on her neck, dangling into her shirt. It’s then when I realise - I want to fuck Paige Bueckers.

“Here you are, Paige! Have you seen Satou?” Savannah interrupts us, but my eyes are still stuck on the blonde next to me.

“No, I got no idea where she is sorry.”

“What about your girlfriend, she seen her?”

Suddenly my eyes snap from Paige to the stranger leaning over the island, blinking stupidly.

“I’m not her girlfriend,” I say sternly, my tone harder than it needs to be. I could feel myself getting overwhelmed.

“Wh- oh shit, I’m sorry. You two just seem like a coup-”

“We’re not together,” Paige interrupts her, clearly picking up on my stress levels rising. I feel the room spinning, my breathing growing shallow, my cheeks burning up.

Lala, who had been watching me and the blonde all night, swiftly walks over and grabs me by the waist. “Come with me baby,” she coos, her voice caring and affectionate as she walks me into the couple’s bedroom, closing the door behind us, separating me from everything causing the engulfing emotions.

“Sit down Zari, I’ll get you some water.”

I do as the older woman says, feeling embarrassed, just praying to any God that I didn’t cause a scene. I could feel my head spinning still, the effect from the alcohol still flowing in my bloodstream.

Lala returns and hands me a glass. I chug it down, handing it back to the woman and staring at the floor.

“Are you alright?” Lala asks, sitting next to me and following me closely. I rub my forehead, shrugging.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m more drunk than I realised,” I murmur but the woman shakes your head.

“I think it’s more than that, Zari.”

I look at her, a knowing expression on the woman’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s Paige isn’t it, you like her?”

I sigh, not even sure how to answer that question. Not sure at all what the feelings swirling inside me meant. 

“I… I just think I’m drunk-”

“She likes you,” Lala interrupts me. I take her words in, blinking slowly as I do. Paige likes me?

“How do you know?” I ask in a moment of vulnerability. Something about the older woman made me feel safe.

Lala chuckles, shaking her head. “I think everybody knows baby.”

Oh.

I’m speechless for once, staring at the wall, recounting every interaction I had ever had with the blonde girl. My friend. Could she really like me? Worse of all, have I led her on?

“Look, just be careful alright. Don’t give her the wrong idea if… you know, you don’t feel the same,” Lala rubs my shoulders, like reading my thoughts. It all confused me, my feelings most of all - and deep deep down I wasn’t sure about what I felt, my mind an entangled, confusing pile of perplexity.

-

“Hey you alright?” Paige murmurs to me, pressing into my back as I’m pouring myself more water in the kitchen after my little breather. My body is covered in chills once more by her proximity - which must be a sign I like her at least a little bit. Or maybe I’m just needy for someone to touch me. I was drunk after all, and it had been a while. But then again, these chills always occurred when the blonde’s hands were on me, sometimes even when they were not. Just a simple look was enough.

“Yeah, I felt a little dizzy. Feel better now though,” I murmur, finishing another glass of water.

Paige hesitates, chewing on her cheek, clearly in her head as I turn around and notice her expression. “I didn’t do too much ri-”

“Here you are!! I love this song, come dance!” A drunk Satou interrupts the moment, dragging both me and the blonde into the living room, not giving us much choice in the matter. 

“Song’s almost over,” Paige chuckles, glancing at me as I shrug but follow the two hoopers.

“Who cares, I love it!” Satou laughs. We’re surrounded by a few others, dancing to the Drake song echoing around the apartment. As the beat fades out, I hear the soft melody of What You Heard by Sonder take over.

“Nooo, boo, I’mma go ask for more Drake,” Satou murmurs, walking off, leaving me and Paige alone.

Our gazes meet and we chuckle at the same time at the girl who just left, clearly even drunker than me and Paige.

“Fuck your mind up, waste time, I'm prone to that, do it all the time, Keep your guard up or wait in line”

“This song is actually fire,” Paige grins and I nod.

“It is.”

I take a dip in her blue eyes, finding comfort in them as the song plays, not at all shocked when Paige steps closer and grabs a hold of my waist, swaying with me. The alcohol is still pumping through my veins, making it easy to wrap my arms around her neck without thinking what it might mean. It felt good to be close to her, so what?

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts.”

Paige sings along to the lyrics, the tiniest bit off-key yet something about it makes me grow flustered quickly, mind flashing with images of her doing exactly what the lyrics describe.

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts, When I get you to myself, it's murder,” I sing back to Paige, our eyes meeting. Her eyelids are heavy from the drinks, and there’s a hint of a smirk on her face. Her silver chains sparkle in the dim lighting, but all I’m looking at is the way she’s staring me down.

Something about the alcohol makes me bold, pressing my body closer to hers, my fingernails scratching into the back of her neck gently, watching as her eyes nearly flutter shut at the contact.

“You be wildin', I be wildin', too, But not like you, shit, maybe a little like you, Maybe we ain't so different, maybe I be trippin', too,” we sing to each other, the blonde’s thumbs rubbing circles on my hips as we dance together. I feel the burn from earlier spread to my core once more, making it hard to think clearly. 

Our faces are inching closer, to the point where I can feel her hot breath on my skin. My heart begins to pound and it becomes difficult to keep my eyes open. Paige licks her lips, leaning downwards. For a moment I think she’s about to kiss me, the distance between us growing smaller and smaller - until she ghosts my lips, turning her face, mouth hovering right over my ear, warm breath tickling against my skin.

“If he was a winner, Girl, you wouldn't have to worry 'bout a damn thing, If I was up in it, shit, I bet a pound that I'd put it down, Make you forget that you was ever with him,” she murmurs into my ear with the lyrics of the song, left hand staying on my hip, right hand coming up to the back of my head to hold it still as we keep swaying to the melody.

I feel flustered, my cheeks growing hotter and my core aching for something. No, not for something - for Paige.

“And I hate talking 'bout my stroke game, But girl, I'm giving you the whole thing,” she murmurs with a deep, hoarse voice, my body tingling and on fire at the same time. 

Turning my face, my nose brushes into the blonde’s, but I’m too scared to open my eyes, too scared that if I do I’ll start thinking again, realising how senseless this entire situation is.

Paige’s nose nuzzles mine, and I can hear the shallowness of her breathing, her hand at the back of my head maneuvering me in a way so our lips are hovering over each other. I feel like I might pass out, my heart trying to race out of my chest at this point.

“Paige, Zari, I finally found herrrr!” Satou shouts over the crowd, making both of us pull away. My eyes shoot open and I see the girl holding her friend Savannah.

“Oh! Good!” I smile awkwardly, Paige’s hands still on me. 

“Jesus…” The blonde murmurs to herself, looking around clearly frustrated by the unwelcome interruption. “You wanna go to the balcony for, uh, some fresh air?”

“Yeah,” I nod, without thinking. I let the tall girl walk me onto the balcony, closing the door behind us.

Fresh air it is not, the weather a hot and humid warning for the approaching scorching Dallas summer. But it still feels right to be alone with Paige, under the dark Texas sky. I glance upwards, looking at the stars to avoid meeting the blonde’s stare.

“So damn hot,” Paige groans, unbuttoning her shirt even more to get more airflow, though I couldn’t care less. I’m only gazing at the way the chains on her neck rest against her skin.

“Yeah, it certainly is,” I mumble, leaning my back against the glass railing.

Paige looks at me with something I can’t recognise, her expression softening as she’s taking steps towards me. “Fuck, that accent,” she murmurs, her hands easily finding their way to my waist again.

“What do you mean?” I laugh.

She shrugs. “I dunno, I just love hearing you talk.”

I chuckle, bringing my hand to her chest and playing with the chain there, number 5 dangling off it. Paige grins too, continuing.

“And the things you say too.”

I scoff, displeased. “Like what?”

“I dunno! British things!”

“British things??” I ask, laughing so hard my stomach begins to hurt, my fingers still fiddling the number 5.

“Like… Taking the piss!” She laughs, leaning closer. I bend forward too, my face scrunching as pearls of giggles spill from my mouth.

“Oh my God, you’re so stupid,” I murmur in a blur of joy, my hand snaking behind her head. In the haze of the alcohol and the giggles and the newfound feelings, before I can think it through, I’m pulling her down by the chain and her head, leaning closer and kissing her.

It’s heaven. Every nerve in my body is on fire. The blonde’s lips open for me, slowly but sensually sliding against mine. My legs feel weak, and my nails dig into the skin of her neck, a whimper leaving my mouth but she swallows it, groaning in response. Her hands squeeze my waist before moving to my face, landing on my jaw to keep me as close as possible - like she might die if I pull away.

I’m pressed closer to the glass behind my back as the kiss grows hungrier. Paige’s mouth opens further, her tongue darting out to slide against my lower lip, begging for entry with a small whine slipping from the blonde’s mouth. It’s like everything pent up was finally releasing, something I didn’t even know was there, bubbling right underneath the surface. My tongue meets Paige’s, both of us melting into the kiss. I feel like putty in her hands, like she could mold me whichever way possible. This is the best kiss I’ve ever experienced, I know that for sure. Jasper always kissed in such a stiff, forceful way. Right. Jasper.

It takes me back to the moment, as if for a sliver of a second I can think clearly. What the fuck am I doing. This isn’t me. I haven’t thought this through at all. I’m leading Paige on.

Abruptly I pull back for air, the taller girl already dragging me back into another kiss needily. But I push Paige back by her chest, stopping her. We’re both breathing heavily, staring at each other. What the fuck am I doing.

“I have to go, I’m sorry,” I mumble, shoving her off me as gently as I can, saying quick goodbyes to Lala and Arike before practically running down the stairs and throwing myself into a cab, leaving Paige upstairs as if nothing happened. The only proof of the night’s events merely the way my lips still burn and tingle, and my racing heart and swirling mind trying to make sense of everything.

-

taglist:@wbbgetsmewetter @thaatdigitaldiary @pb524830 @bueckersfive @lupinqs @sierrale8ne @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @avvwritesstufff @rosemariiaa @bueckers22 @taylynbueckers44 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @rizzlerbuckets @wosolipa @bridgetloveswomen @paiges-1vur @slut4uconnwbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch @janaelalfysblunt @omg-imtumbling @angryflowerwitch @ohbueckers

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 06/01✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: Do the little monkeys on Flower Fruit mountain ever see at Wukong and Macaque bickering like an old married couple and think to themselves 'just kiss already'?

Yes. They keep doing and Wukong tries to stop them otherwise Macaque could hear them (he already does)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Been reading up on Macaque Body Language and found this: "A peculiar behaviour displayed by macaques is lip smacking. Between macaques, lip smacking is used to show submission, affection and reconciliation. This behaviour is a form of communication and is sometimes accompanied with cooing vocalisations and mild raising of eyebrows." So now I can't stop imaging Monkey King and Macaque just smacking lips and raising eyebrows to each other instead of saying "I love you" or after a fight just smacking lips and then hugging. But then I also started questioning, do the two monkeys in your AU actually use monkey body language to communicate? Or is it just human language they use? Great work on your AU btw! Loving the art and story ^^

Mm some? Like a little but not too much. But that’s an adorable trivia!!

Does macaque know about Wukong's stage fright?👀

Yes.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Baby MK lives in my head rent free. If Wukong or Macaque were trappen in the calabash than their perfect world would be one where they could raise mk without him having to fight or get hurt and traumatized

I THINK the fanfiction series Squashed Apricots is just about this if it can interest you.

@abbytheslothwitch ha chiesto: In your AU or your general opinion, which monkey dad is the taller one; Wukong or Macaque?

Macaque

Anonimo ha chiesto: The way you draw Pigsy honestly is one of the best I've seen I mean just look at him!!! He doesn't have the proportions of a regular human because he's not human and it works so well! I dunno he just looks cool in your artstyle and design That all I had to say :]]]]

Thank you so much!!!♥️♥️♥️ He’s honestly quite hard to draw exactly bc of that, but it’s good practice! Him and DBK are generally harder, I’m not super used to draw animals.

@peach-fury ha chiesto: Ello! Sorry, it's me again But just had a thought, sense Macaque has died and went to Dìyù or the underworld. (I think that's were the book of death is) Wouldn't he be at least scared or nervous to go back? Idk like bad memories like their fight or the lady bone demon or something? Idk maybe overthinking or that I just like angsty :P (P.s I fricking love your art and your AU's so much!!!!)

Yes. I believe he wouldn’t like the idea. I like to think he”s actually terrified. But he wouldn’t care less if it means to protect and help his baby.

Anonimo ha chiesto: will MK try to try change his name into nobody or something form of loophole name so that can be like ohhhh nobody us in trouble! Everyone is safeeee! And nezha’s dad is like wait no

Ahah that’s a good idea! Unfortunately that isn’t the plan

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hear me out we know Wukong made the bed because he made it bigger. It's made out of peach tree wood. And carved moon and suns and stars on the headboard.

AWWWW!!😭😭😭😭😭

@a1teruniverse ha chiesto: What's the hardest panel you've drawn

It is a panel if it’s an animation?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will u ever do flash backs for shadowpeach thats “happy” like them first meeting realizing there in love a jealous mac courtnapping the monkey king just being young and in love.

Mmm yeah i wanna do smth like that. Don’t know when or how but i wanna.

Anonimo ha chiesto: does Wukong ever/will ever let glamours down and let like everything hang out like Mac would come in and his husband just causally has his boobs out and he’s like sweet my husband got hotter bc he’s pan(?) like I think you said that in an earlier post

I mean. I don’t think he has any issues dropping his glamours in front of macaque. I don’t think he would stay too much without his glamours bc still, I guess he would have some slight dysphoria. Also I mean, yeah Macaque loves him with or without boobies. But if Wukong could choose he would prefer not to have them out if he can.

Anonimo ha chiesto: which bottle is every ship in your lmk comic chugging? (I’m talking about your red bubble stickers for ao3 tags I would find it but I’m lazyyyh)

Shadowpeach is hurt & comfort (which I saw now I didn’t uploaded but yeah I got that one as well.), slowburn, enemies to lovers, and angst cause- duh.

Spicynoodle I would say is fluff, oneshot, enemies to lovers, found family.

Anonimo ha chiesto: im so embarrassed to ask about this but, later when mk and red boy r dating, who would ask the other first on a date? What would the date be? Also what does dbk and pif personal opinion of their relationship? SORRY IF THIS HAS BEEN ASKED BEFORE😭

I think MK, because dates are something a little more human, and cause Red Son is a workaholic. It can either be something like a training session, a videogame session at Red castle, or just also the traffic light trio being competitive. DBK and PIF are supporting, mostly bc they know their family will be even more powerful with an union such as theirs. Of course PIF is supporting also cause MK is Mac baby.

@kandymaneuwu ha chiesto: On a scale of 1 to 10 how fluffy is macaque this is very important

10 with merits

@5hadowm0ch1 ha chiesto: When will Shadowpeach kiss? It's always head-to-head Pats (I'm trying to predict what happening)

b-b-b-b-b- but head-to-head pats are cute…

@majesticgazell ha chiesto: Ooohhh I’m just imagining Li Jing catching wind of the plan and activating MK’s fillet while he’s in the shadows… maybe he wouldn’t lose himself under normal circumstances, but with that thing tightening around his head? 👀 Just a thought

Hehe, isn’t that a possibility?

@nataszaluiz ha chiesto: So I have a few questions. First: do you plan on ending it before Season 6 releases or do you plan on continuing it and mixing it up with your AU? Second: have you heard theories that a fragment of Azure's Soul is placed in the blue flower that appears after it's sacrifice? Third: Will characters like Yellowtusk and Peng appear in your AU?

S6 seems to either happen next year or never, so I ve3ry much hope i finish my story sooner.

no i haven’t

mmmm i don’t know

@cheddarcheesebiscuit1 ha chiesto: I gotta ask, if MK would to ever get injured in his monkie form, then would Macaque/Wukong try to take him to a human doctor or a vet?

I know we all want to see Macaque and Wukong freaking out when their baby is sick, but I think we forget sometimes that, even though they aren’t medics, Wukong has a basic understanding how to heal wounds and medicine. Macaque is head-canoned many times to be an expert in fact. And I think there are demons/demonic doctors in case MK has some kind of curse or demonic sickness, which would be what actually makes them worry in the first place.

@ainnur ha chiesto: Mei and Wukong team up?! Wasabi Duo the party crasher🎉✨ Love them💕 They need more love as a duo

Their name IS WASABI DUO????????? AAAWWWWWW

@sleeo-goos10 ha chiesto: Hi kyri! Thank you for sparking my LMK hyper fixation and I’m really curious: Will we get more Nezha? How will he react knowing that the Buddha approved this? IF the Buddha approved it at all 👀

Yes you will have plenty of Nezha. Also if youo guys really want to know, yeah, the Buddha themself approved of this. No, Li Jing wasn’t lying.

@saphstories ha chiesto: KYRI PLEASE IF I ASK FOR NOTHING ELSE I NEED TO SEE HELICOPTER AUNT PIF AND UNCLE DBK IN THAT FIGHT BECAUSE *HEAVEN DID WHAT TO THEIR NEPHEW???* And I'm sorry but of freaking course Red Son being the brat he is would call Mommy and Daddy to tattle about how mean Heaven is for stealing his Monkey before he could. 😂😂 Can you tell how insane the extended Monkey Fam makes me? 😂😂😂 I love this AU, I can't wait to see more!

When they heard the news they wanted to come to help attack the palace as well, but Red Son stopped them saying smt like “HE IS MY FUTURE HOUSBAND AND I GET TO KIDNAP HIM OUT OF HEAVEN MOM!”

@anxiousbb-witch ha chiesto: Do I have a reason to fear the possibilities of the golden headband being used on MK and all the emotions and tears coming from it?

oh year, absolutely.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I just have the funny thought that MK woke up one morning in his true form and get jumpscared by looking at himself and see he has boobs again

nooouuuu poor baby! But yeah it’s a funny image

@monkieshad0w ha chiesto: HELLOO HELLOO! What’s ur opinion on sundial duo :D (if you don’t know what sundial duo is, it’s basically Macaque and Wukong being duos and besties but not lovers) :3

oohhh well I do live any pf my ships as besties as well! Platonic love is just as important as romantic one for me personally!

[geneviveleocardius]

i don’t know if you’re accepting requests, but i thought id throw my hat in the ring 🫣 possessive!konig who realizes that you get flustered when he says certain things (in his accent or in german) and uses that to his advantage when yall are getting down? he’s my nasty husband and i need him

sureeee, here you go sweetheart

you don’t know how it started—maybe it was the way könig would sometimes switch to german when he got too worked up, his words low and sharp like he was losing the grip on his self-control. or maybe it was just his accent, curling around certain phrases that had your heart racing. whatever it was, könig noticed. and now, he won’t stop using it against you.

“look at you,” he murmurs one night, his voice rich with that heavy drawl. “so pretty like this.” the words make your stomach flip, his accent clinging to every syllable. he knows exactly what he’s doing, watching the way your breath hitches, how your hands twist in the sheets like you’re trying to ground yourself.

then he leans down, close enough that you can feel his breath ghosting over your ear. and it’s not fair, the way he switches to german—words you don’t fully understand, but the tone of them has heat pooling low in your stomach.

“schatz,” he says, soft and deliberate, dragging out the syllable. “du bist so süß, wenn du dich so bewegst.” ‘you’re so cute when you move like that’

you can’t help it, your hips buck up instinctively, and he chuckles—low and dark, almost smug.

“ah, you like that, don’t you?” his voice is teasing now, his accent thicker than usual, like he’s purposefully leaning into it just to see how far he can push you.

your response is a choked sound, caught between a whimper and a plea, and könig’s grin widens.

“good,” he murmurs, his lips brushing over your jaw. “because i’m not stopping until you’re begging for me.”

and true to his word, he doesn’t stop—not until you’re a trembling, flustered mess beneath him, completely undone by the way he wields his voice like a weapon.

[aspenmissing]

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ: ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ?

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ

6159 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴛᴀʟᴋꜱ ᴏꜰ ɪɴꜰᴇʀᴛɪʟɪᴛʏ (ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴏꜰ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ, ᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴋɪᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴜᴘ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴏᴛʜ ꜱɪᴅᴇꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛ?

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ/ᴊɪɴx

JAYCE

You and Jayce stood outside the bright, cheerful building of the preschool, staring up at the colorful sign that read "Bright Beginnings Academy." Jayce's hands rested casually on his hips, the usual confident smile on his face as he looked down at you. His enthusiasm was infectious, and you couldn’t help but feel a little excited as well.

"I still can't believe they asked us to do this," Jayce said, adjusting his jacket. "It's not every day we get invited to talk to a group of young minds about science and technology."

You laughed lightly. "I think it's a great opportunity to inspire them. If even one of these kids decides to pursue something in science because of what we say, that would be amazing."

Jayce nodded, beaming. "Exactly! And I’ll make sure to give them a talk they'll never forget. You know, I can be pretty persuasive."

You raised an eyebrow. "Just... remember, not every five-year-old is going to understand particle acceleration. Keep it simple for them, okay?"

Jayce waved a hand dismissively. "Don’t worry, I’ve got this. I'll make it sound fun."

You both entered the preschool and were greeted by the head teacher, Ms. Graves, who led you to the first classroom. The kids were sitting at small tables, eyes wide with curiosity, some fidgeting with toys and others whispering to each other.

"Everyone, this is Jayce and Y/N," Ms. Graves announced cheerfully. "They’ve come to tell us all about their exciting work!"

Jayce stepped forward, his tall frame making him stand out among the tiny chairs. He cleared his throat, a grin spreading across his face. "Hey there, little scientists! I’m Jayce, and I build incredible machines that can help solve problems! I work with energy and technology to create inventions that can change the world. I bet some of you have seen big machines like robots, right?" He smiled, trying to gauge their understanding.

A few hands shot up eagerly. "I saw a robot on TV!" one of the kids exclaimed.

"That's right! And those robots use technology I help create!" Jayce said, puffing out his chest slightly.

The kids seemed intrigued, but the more Jayce spoke, the more confused their faces became as he dove deeper into the technical aspects of his work. He mentioned “energy fields” and “complex algorithms,” which only seemed to go over their heads.

You smiled softly to yourself, watching him confidently speak. It was clear he was passionate about his work, but you could see where things might be getting a bit... complicated for the children. You moved toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a knowing look.

"Maybe we should take a step back and make it a bit more fun for them," you suggested gently, giving him a playful nudge.

Jayce blinked, realizing his overcomplicated explanation. "Ah, right. I got carried away."

You took a step forward, crouching down to the kids' level. "Hey there, everyone!" you said warmly. "I’m Y/N, and I love science too! Jayce builds things that help people, but sometimes, instead of using big words, we can show you how things work with fun activities!"

You looked to the teacher, who smiled and nodded in agreement. "Let’s make a simple machine today. We can build something cool together!"

The kids cheered, their excitement palpable. You led them to the activity table where materials like cardboard, straws, rubber bands, and small gears were set out. You guided them through creating simple contraptions—a basic pulley system, a little lever, and even a tiny rolling machine.

Jayce watched you in awe, his arms crossed over his chest as he observed how effortlessly you connected with the kids. You patiently helped each child, showing them how to build and encouraging their creativity. Some kids had trouble with the mechanics, and you were there with a smile, explaining everything in the simplest ways.

The more you interacted with the kids, the more they clung to you. One child tugged at your sleeve, asking to show you their creation. Another crawled into your lap, looking up at you with wide, adoring eyes. You laughed, gently brushing a few strands of hair from your face.

"Look, Jayce," you whispered, nodding to the group gathered around you. "They really love you too, but I think they might love me just a bit more right now."

Jayce chuckled, a bit of a pout on his lips. "I’m supposed to be the cool inventor, but I guess you’ve got the magic touch."

You leaned in, teasing. "What can I say? I’m a natural with kids. They like when things are fun and hands-on."

Jayce's gaze softened as he watched you, a proud smile spreading across his face. "You’re amazing," he said, more to himself than to you. "You make it look so easy."

The children continued to surround you, proudly showing off their creations. One little girl climbed onto your lap, a big smile on her face as she presented her simple yet clever machine.

"Look, I made a lever that helps me open my toy box!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

You beamed, helping her adjust the lever. "That's fantastic! You’ve just made something that could help you every day. I think you’re a real inventor in the making."

The classroom was alive with chatter, and Jayce had long since stepped back to give you the spotlight. He couldn’t help but admire how you connected with the kids, how naturally you made learning fun for them. He realized, with a soft chuckle, that maybe you were the true teacher here today.

As the activity came to a close, the kids surrounded you, each one wanting to show you their project or give you a high-five. Jayce joined in, still amazed by how well you were able to inspire the next generation.

"You know," he said, as you walked hand-in-hand with him out of the classroom, a playful glint in his eye, "maybe next time, we should let you do the talking."

You smiled, squeezing his hand. "Maybe we should. But you were still awesome, Jayce. I just think you need to simplify your genius a little."

Jayce laughed softly, his heart warmed by how easily you embraced everything that came with working with children. "I think I could learn a thing or two from you. You’re a natural."

You grinned. "I just know how to make science fun."

VIKTOR

The room was dimly lit, a soft glow from the warm fire casting flickering shadows on the walls. You sat beside Viktor in his workshop, the steady hum of machinery and the quiet crackle of the fire filling the space. You’d been talking for hours, about everything and nothing, when the conversation shifted to something you’d always carried in your heart.

"I’ve always wanted to have children," you said softly, tracing the rim of your teacup absentmindedly. "Even when I was young, I used to imagine what it would be like to be a mother, to have a little one running around, learning new things, growing up. It just always felt right to me."

Viktor’s expression faltered for a moment, his brow furrowing as he lowered his gaze. The silence stretched between you, and you could feel the weight of his thoughts, the subtle tension in the air. It wasn’t like Viktor to be so quiet, and it made your heart tighten with concern.

"You... want children?" Viktor’s voice was softer than usual, almost as if he was testing the words, as if they were foreign to him.

You nodded, turning toward him with a small smile. "I’ve always dreamed of it, yes. I think it’s one of the most fulfilling things someone can experience."

Viktor shifted slightly in his seat, a look of deep thought on his face. "I..." He hesitated, his fingers tapping lightly on the arm of his chair as if searching for the right words. "I don’t think that’s something I can give you."

You blinked, a frown forming at the edges of your lips. "What do you mean?"

Viktor’s eyes met yours, and there was a heaviness in them, a burden he had carried for so long, one you knew he didn’t speak of often. "I have my illness," he said quietly, his voice tight. "And my... condition. I don’t want to pass on any of what I have to a child."

You felt a pang in your chest, the deep sadness in his words cutting through you. He was already thinking about his own deformity, his illness—how it affected his body, his life. Viktor never talked about it openly, always focusing on his work, but you knew that it was always there, lingering in his mind. He feared it, feared what it would mean for the future.

"But Viktor," you whispered, reaching out to take his hand, "you are more than your illness. You are strong, brilliant, and beautiful in so many ways. If we were to have children... they wouldn’t just inherit the things that make you feel broken. They’d inherit everything that makes you who you are."

Viktor’s eyes flickered to your hand, his gaze softening for a brief moment, but the weight of his thoughts remained. "I can’t bear the thought of passing on my suffering to anyone, especially a child. I wouldn’t want them to go through the things I’ve been through... the pain, the limitations." His voice broke slightly, though he tried to steady it. "I wouldn’t want them to have to carry the burden of what I’ve become."

Your heart ached for him, knowing how deeply he cared about you and how much it hurt him to feel that he could not offer you the life you had dreamed of. You gently squeezed his hand, offering him a tender smile, one filled with understanding and love.

"I understand, Viktor," you said softly. "I understand more than you know. I’m not asking for something you can’t give right now, and I wouldn’t want to put that kind of pressure on you. I respect your decision, and I support you completely. If it’s not the right time for you, then I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as you need me to."

Viktor’s eyes searched yours, his lips trembling slightly, a mixture of gratitude and sorrow reflected in them. "You... you would wait for me?"

"Of course," you replied without hesitation. "I love you, Viktor. And whether we have children or not, my love for you won’t change. We’ll have the future that’s right for us, together."

A long silence fell between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a peaceful kind of silence, the kind that spoke volumes without the need for words. Viktor’s grip on your hand tightened, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles as if he needed that touch to steady himself, to remind himself that you were there, beside him.

"You’ve always been so patient with me," he murmured, his voice filled with a tenderness you rarely heard. "I don’t deserve your patience."

You shook your head, a small, affectionate smile playing at your lips. "You don’t have to deserve it, Viktor. It’s not about that. It’s about us, about being together, and supporting each other. We’ll figure this out, one step at a time. And when you’re ready, I’ll be here."

Viktor’s gaze softened, his eyes reflecting the gratitude he struggled to express. He leaned in slowly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, a silent promise passing between you. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "For everything."

And in that moment, you knew, without a doubt, that whatever the future held, you and Viktor would face it together—patiently, lovingly, and with the same unwavering commitment that had always defined your relationship.

JAYVIK

The soft crackle of the fireplace filled the room, the warm glow casting gentle shadows on the walls of the living room. You, Viktor, and Jayce had just finished a long day of work, and now, you were all unwinding in your cozy space. You and Viktor were seated on the couch, a few scattered papers and empty mugs left on the coffee table, while Jayce leaned back in his armchair, kicking his boots up with a sigh of relief.

For a while, there was nothing but the steady rhythm of breathing and the occasional rustling of papers as Viktor worked on a few ideas for his next project. Jayce, on the other hand, seemed content to simply unwind, the silence comfortable in a way only the three of you could share.

It was a casual evening—no talk of politics, no discussions of breakthroughs or setbacks. But then, as Jayce stretched his arms above his head, breaking the silence, he casually dropped a thought that had been on his mind for a while.

"You know," Jayce said, half to himself, "I was just thinking about how we could have a little one running around here one day. Maybe it would be nice to have someone to pass all of this on to, someone who would grow up with us."

Viktor’s brow furrowed, his fingers tapping absently on the edge of his chair. He didn’t immediately respond, though his gaze drifted to you as if testing the waters.

"You’re right," Viktor added quietly after a moment, his tone soft but pensive. "Maybe one day, we should. We’ve spent so much of our lives focused on work, but I suppose we should think about a future beyond just our creations."

You looked up at the two of them, surprised to hear this so directly. They’d mentioned the idea in passing before, but now it felt more tangible, more real. Still, you said nothing at first, unsure of how to react. Jayce, always eager to entertain new possibilities, kept talking.

"I wonder what it would be like," he mused. "What kind of parents we'd be. It’s crazy to think about it, but I think I’d want to give it a shot. But you know, it’s a lot of work, a lot of responsibility." He laughed softly. "Not sure if we’d be the perfect role models, huh?"

You gave him a half-smile, trying to keep the conversation light. But inside, a knot of tension began to form in your stomach. You could hear the underlying question in their words—the curiosity, the openness, and perhaps even a bit of uncertainty. They wanted your opinion, wanted to know if this was something you were considering, too.

But as you sat there in the living room with them, you knew this conversation had to come to a head. The secret you had been keeping from them—the truth you hadn’t been able to share yet—was slowly eating at you.

Taking a deep breath, you set your mug down on the table with a soft clink, your hands shaking slightly as you prepared to speak.

"I—" you started, your voice trembling a bit. "I need to tell you something."

Jayce and Viktor both turned their attention to you, sensing the change in the air. They sat up a little, waiting for you to continue.

"I’ve never told you this before," you began, trying to steady your breathing. "But... I can’t have children."

The words hung in the air between you like a weight, a truth you’d kept locked away for so long. You could feel the sting of shame welling up in your chest as you tried to continue.

"It’s... it’s because of infertility," you murmured, your eyes cast downward, unable to meet their gazes. "And I’ve never told either of you. I guess... I didn’t want to disappoint you. Or make you feel like... like I wasn’t enough. I’ve been so afraid that if you knew, you’d..."

You trailed off, the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. You hadn’t meant for this to happen. You hadn’t meant to break down like this, but the truth was heavy, and the shame was worse than you’d imagined.

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. The weight of your confession hung over you, suffocating. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at them, too afraid of how they might react. You had kept this secret for so long, hoping it would never come up, but now the truth was out there.

Then, to your surprise, you felt Viktor’s hand on your shoulder, gentle but firm, as if to reassure you that he was there. His voice, when it came, was softer than you had ever heard it.

"Y/N," he said quietly, his tone filled with understanding. "You don’t need to feel ashamed. We’re not angry with you, not at all."

Jayce, too, leaned forward, his gaze filled with concern but also affection. "We’re a team, Y/N," he said, his voice earnest. "There’s nothing you could say that would change that. We love you, and that doesn’t change because of something like this."

You finally lifted your gaze to them, tears threatening at the corners of your eyes. "But I—" you began, but Viktor shook his head gently.

"Listen to us," he said softly. "This doesn’t change anything. We’re still the same. And if you want children, we’ll find a way. Together."

Jayce nodded in agreement. "There are options, you know. Adoption. Surrogacy? We’ll figure it out, Y/N. No matter what."

Your heart swelled at their words, the weight in your chest beginning to lift, even if just a little. You weren’t alone in this. They understood, they cared, and they weren’t angry.

"I don’t deserve you both," you whispered, your voice breaking slightly.

Viktor leaned closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his eyes warm with sincerity. "You deserve all of us, Y/N. We’re in this together. There’s no need for shame. We’ll take each step together, and when the time is right, we’ll decide what’s next."

Jayce reached over, placing a reassuring hand on your knee, his expression softened with a rare, tender understanding. "We’re here for you, always. And we’ll figure this out, whatever path we need to take."

The comfort in their words, the warmth in their touch, soothed you more than you could have expected. Maybe the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but you knew you wouldn’t walk it alone.

Together, the three of you would find a way forward.

VANDER

It was a quiet evening at the Vander household. The children had long since been put to bed, and the house was filled with the soft sounds of the night—crickets chirping in the distance, the occasional rustling of leaves in the breeze. You and Vander were seated by the fireplace, the warm glow from the flames casting gentle shadows across the room.

You had just finished tidying up after a long day of running around with the kids—Powder, Vi, Mylo, and Claggor. They were all sweet, each of them with their own personalities, their own quirks, and you loved every moment spent with them. But tonight, as you sat beside Vander, there was a different energy between you two. A quiet, lingering thought that had been on Vander’s mind for some time now.

Vander watched you from his seat, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he observed you. You were always so gentle, so patient with the kids. He had seen you day in and day out, playing with them, teaching them, loving them. It was clear how much you cared for them, and that made his heart swell with warmth. But tonight, something else flickered behind his eyes. Something he had been holding back for a while.

"You know," Vander began, his voice low and thoughtful, "you’ve been incredible with the kids."

You smiled at him, a soft, fond expression on your face. "I love them like they’re my own."

Vander’s gaze softened. "I can see that. They adore you. And it’s not just the way you take care of them—it’s the way you make them feel safe, the way you guide them. They need you, Y/N."

You shrugged, trying to hide the warmth in your chest. "They make it easy. They’re amazing kids."

Vander’s smile grew slightly, but there was something more in his eyes, a hint of something deeper. "You’ve been so good to them. I can't help but think…" He paused, as if carefully considering his words. "I wonder what it would be like to have another."

Your heart skipped a beat, unsure if you heard him correctly. "Another?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded slowly, his gaze turning toward the fire. "Yeah. You’re so good with them... I can’t help but imagine what it would be like, to have one of our own." His voice was quiet, almost a reflection of a thought he hadn’t fully voiced until now.

You stared at him, your mind racing. You loved the kids you already had but the idea of having one with Vander, of building your own family even further, was an exciting thought. You had always felt that spark of hope deep down, but you never dared to mention it, not wanting to push for something Vander might not feel the same about. But now, hearing him say it out loud, your heart fluttered with possibility.

"I..." You didn’t quite know what to say at first, the warmth in your chest expanding at the thought of another child. "I’ve thought about it, too. What it would be like to have one together."

Vander’s eyes found yours again, soft and full of tenderness. "I can’t help but wonder if we could handle another one. But then again..." He chuckled quietly, rubbing his hand over his chin. "We seem to manage just fine with the four of them."

You couldn’t help but laugh along with him. "They do keep us on our toes, don’t they?"

Vander grinned. "Yeah, but that’s what makes it worth it. Watching them grow, helping them become who they’re meant to be. And... I see the way you look after them. It’s something special."

You shifted closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. "I love them, all of them. I love being their guardian, their guide." You sighed contently, your eyes falling closed as you breathed in the warmth of the room and the safety of his embrace. "I think another child could fit right in, don’t you?"

Vander’s hand found yours, gently intertwining your fingers. "Maybe it could. Maybe it’s time to see if we’re ready for that next step."

You turned your face up to look at him, your heart racing slightly as you met his gaze. The flickering light from the fire reflected in his eyes, giving them a depth of emotion that made your pulse quicken.

"You think we’re ready?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Vander’s grin grew as he leaned in slightly closer, his breath warm against your ear. "I think it’s something we should try."

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the tone in his voice, the weight of his words settling in. It was as if he was speaking not just about the idea of another child, but about everything that came with it—commitment, trust, love. His lips brushed against your ear as he continued, his voice low and smooth.

"I can’t think of a better person to have a child with than you, darling," he murmured. "So... what do you say? Are you ready to try?"

The air between you two seemed to crackle with tension, an unspoken promise, a shared understanding. You leaned into him, your heart thudding in your chest as you whispered back, "I’m ready."

With that, Vander’s lips found yours, gentle yet full of promise, as if sealing the decision, sealing the future. The kiss deepened, the warmth between you both growing stronger as you both knew, in that moment, that your love was only going to grow even further.

And as the fire crackled softly in the background, you both knew one thing for certain: a new chapter was beginning for you both. Together.

SILCO

It was late in the evening when Silco found himself watching you from across the room. You were sitting with Powder, laughing softly as the young girl showed you her latest creation—a makeshift toy made from scrap materials she’d found in the undercity. Powder’s face lit up with pride, and you, with your usual warmth, encouraged her with genuine admiration. Silco watched the scene unfold quietly from his seat, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the way you interacted with Powder. It was a bond he’d seen growing stronger with each passing day, and though he didn’t show it, it stirred something deep within him.

You had always been like a guiding force for Powder. She trusted you, adored you, and looked up to you in a way that only a daughter could. Silco had his own complicated feelings about it all—he'd never been one for sentimentality or nurturing, especially when it came to children. The thought of raising a child, having someone so vulnerable tied to him… it made his stomach turn.

He shifted in his chair, then stood and approached you, his gaze flickering between you and Powder for a moment before he spoke.

“Y/N,” Silco began, his voice steady but laced with an underlying seriousness, “there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

You turned your attention to him, a soft smile on your lips as you glanced from him to Powder. “What’s on your mind, Silco?”

He hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, his voice just a touch more guarded. “I’ve been thinking. About… children.”

You frowned, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. The seriousness in Silco’s tone made you wary, and you instinctively looked over at Powder. Her wide eyes were bouncing between you both, sensing the tension that was beginning to settle over the room.

“You should go get ready for bed, Powder,” you said softly, offering her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be with you in a minute, alright?”

Powder hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering between you and Silco, before she nodded slowly. “Okay, Y/N,” she muttered, and with a last glance, she shuffled off toward her room, her footsteps growing quieter as she left the room.

Once the door clicked shut behind her, the air in the room felt heavier, and you turned back to Silco, your gaze now fixed on him with an unspoken understanding that the conversation had just shifted into something more serious.

Silco’s eyes never left you as he continued, his expression unreadable. “I’ve seen the way you care for Powder. The way you’ve taken her under your wing. And it’s…” He paused, almost unwilling to continue. “It’s admirable, the bond you share with her. But I want you to know this, Y/N…” He took a slow step closer, the intensity of his gaze unwavering. “I don’t want children. The thought of having a child, someone so vulnerable, tied to me… it’s a weakness. A risk. They could be used against me one day. I won’t allow that.””

You could feel the tension in the room rise as he spoke. You could see the vulnerability behind his eyes, the fear of losing control, and perhaps, in some twisted way, the self-awareness that having a child might be more than he could handle. And yet, it didn’t come as a surprise. Silco’s life had always been about control, power, and survival. The last thing he needed was someone to hold over him, to manipulate his emotions.

You took a deep breath, moving from your position on the floor to sit beside Silco, resting your hand gently on his leg. "You're not the only one who doesn't want children, Silco," you said softly.

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "What do you mean?"

You offered him a reassuring smile, your voice steady. "I’ve never really had the desire to have children of my own. Powder is the only daughter I need. She’s enough for me."

Silco’s eyes softened ever so slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching as if to form a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I suppose we both have our reasons."

You nodded, the weight of the conversation settling around you. "And those reasons are enough for me. Powder has always been the light in my life, and I’m happy with the family we’ve built. With you, with her, with everything we’ve worked for."

Silco regarded you for a long moment, his usual hard demeanour softening in the quiet of the room. He reached out, placing his hand gently over yours with a rare tenderness that made your heart skip.

"I respect that, love," he said quietly, his voice carrying more warmth than usual. "I can see how much she means to you. And how much you mean to her." His gaze flickered toward the door where Powder had gone off to bed, before returning to you. "I'm glad you're here. With me. With us."

Your smile deepened, warmth spreading through you despite the gravity of the conversation. "I’m glad, too, Silco."

The room fell into a long silence, but it was comforting, not uncomfortable. Both of you took in the truth of what had been said—no more, no less. The bond you shared, the family you had built, was more than enough. You didn’t need anything else.

"Good," Silco muttered after a pause, his usual commanding tone returning. "Then that’s settled."

You nodded, meeting his eyes with quiet conviction. "Yeah. It is."

And with that, the topic was closed—no resentment, no regret, just a mutual understanding between the two of you. You didn’t need a child to complete your family. You already had everything you needed in each other.

JINX/POWDER (PLATONIC!)

It was a quiet afternoon in the streets of Zaun, the sun casting an amber glow over the city as you wandered through the busy market, enjoying the calm between your usual chaotic routine. You had been picking up a few supplies, humming softly to yourself, when you noticed a small, frightened child standing near a stack of crates, eyes wide and scanning the crowd.

Instinctively, you approached the child, a gentle smile spreading across your face. “Hey there, you look lost,” you said, crouching down to their level. The child nodded, eyes brimming with tears, and you could see the desperation in their gaze.

“Don’t worry,” you reassured them softly, your voice warm. “Let’s find your parents, okay?”

The child clung to you as you took their hand, and as you made your way through the crowds, they became more and more comfortable in your presence, their grip on you loosening but still steady. The child’s fears slowly ebbed away, soothed by your steady presence. Eventually, you found the child’s parents near the merchant stalls, frantically scanning the crowd.

A tall woman with wild, auburn hair was the first to notice you approaching. Her expression softened with relief as you caught her gaze.

“Are you looking for someone?” you asked, glancing down at the child who had begun to tug at your shirt.

“Yes! My son!” The woman rushed toward you, and the child’s face lit up. Without another word, the child hopped off your hip and ran to their mother, clinging to her side.

“Oh thank you, thank you!” the woman said, tears welling up in her eyes as she held her child tight. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

The man beside her, who had been nervously pacing, stepped forward. His deep voice was shaky as he added, “We’ve been looking everywhere. We thought we lost him for good.” He turned to you with a grateful smile. “You’ve done more than we could have asked for.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied with a smile, your heart warming at the reunion. You nodded at them both. “Just happy to help.”

The woman reached out to pull you into a brief, heartfelt hug. “Thank you again. We’re in your debt.”

You returned the hug lightly, your thoughts drifting as you watched the mother and father take their child’s hand, walking together with him in tow. They waved as they walked away, and you waved back before turning to leave the scene.

It was in that moment that you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind you, followed by an all-too-familiar voice, sharp and full of an edge you recognized.

“What’s this?” Jinx’s voice echoed from behind, full of suspicion. “You just making friends with every little rat in the city now?”

You turned around to see her standing there, arms crossed, a scowl on her face as her eyes fixed not on you, but on the small child who had been clinging to you moments before.

Jinx’s gaze was icy, her brow furrowed as she narrowed her eyes at the child as they walk away with their parents. She took a slow step forward, the usual manic energy in her movements tempered by something else — jealousy. And that was a rare sight.

“Why’s was that kid clinging onto you like you’re his new mom?” Jinx sneered, her voice dripping with possessiveness, the insecurity in her words biting deeper than she likely intended. She shifted uncomfortably, hands fidgeting with the straps of her weapon as her gaze shists to you. Her foot tapped impatiently against the ground, and you could see her cheeks flush with frustration.

You raised an eyebrow, sensing the tension in the air, but also the deeper discomfort simmering beneath her words. “I was just helping them find their parents, Jinx. Nothing more to it.”

"Right," she muttered under her breath, her jealousy almost palpable now. “I see how it is. Just another kid looking for a mother figure while I... get left behind. Not enough room for me, huh?”

Her words hit harder than you expected, and for a split second, you felt a pang of regret for the situation, as if somehow you had betrayed her by offering your care to someone else. But then, you remembered who you were to Jinx — and who she was to you.

You took a deep breath, your eyes flickering to Jinx, who had taken a few steps closer, her posture tense and guarded, like she was expecting a confrontation.

“Jinx…” you began, your voice soft but with the weight of sincerity. “You know I care about you. That kid… they needed someone, and I just helped. It doesn’t change anything between us.”

Jinx’s expression faltered for a moment, and she looked away, biting her lip as she avoided meeting your gaze. There was a long pause before she muttered, her voice barely audible, “I know... It’s just, I... I don’t like seeing anyone else taking your attention. It’s like... you’re spreading yourself thin, and I’m afraid there won’t be enough of you for me.”

You took a step closer, your heart aching as you read the vulnerability in her words. Gently, you cupped her cheek, guiding her face to meet yours. “You’re my priority, Jinx. Always.”

Her eyes softened, a flicker of gratitude passing through the storm of emotions that she usually kept hidden. She let out a soft sigh, her usual wildness dimming as she allowed herself to relax for just a moment.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her hands falling loosely at her sides, her expression more like the girl you knew — Powder. The one who wanted to be tough, but deep down just wanted to be cared for.

You smiled warmly at her, your thumb brushing her cheek tenderly. “Don’t be. You never have to apologize for needing me. And you’ll always have my attention when you need it.”

A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she finally let her guard down a bit more. The jealousy, while still lingering beneath the surface, was no longer as intense. She knew, deep down, that your bond was something that couldn’t be easily replaced or shared with anyone else.

Jinx huffed softly, a touch of her usual playful spark returning as she bumped her shoulder against yours. “Yeah, well, you better not go getting attached to every little lost kid running around.”

You chuckled, leaning into her shoulder for a brief moment. “I’ll try to keep my ‘motherly instincts’ in check for you, alright?”

“Good,” she said, her tone a mix of relief and mischief. “But if you’re gonna start collecting kids, at least pick the cool ones, yeah?”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes but feeling lighter. “I’ll keep that in mind, Jinx.”

And as you both walked away from the market, side by side, you knew this was just another layer of your relationship with Jinx — an unspoken understanding that no matter the jealousy or misunderstandings, you would always be there for each other, no matter what.

[amoressb]

☆ LOWKEY

pairings : childhood bsf!riki x reader ; friends to lovers

synopsis : in which you and riki have been best friends since you guys were in kindergarten. youre both now in your last year of high school and with all that time together, people would think that you guys were bound to end up falling for each other, right? well, that seems to only be the case for riki. hes fallen in love with you after all this time, especially since you guys tend to flirt constantly, but he knows you dont feel the same. right? either way, he doesnt want to risk losing you so he tries to keep his love for you on the lowkey. will it work?

☆.。.：*。.：*・.：*・.。.：*。.：*・.：*・.。.：*。.：*・.☆

will you be mine?

small smau + written wc. 4.05k

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as the riki walked down the quiet street, his heart raced faster than his footsteps. the bouquet of daisies and soft pink roses he held in his trembling hands was a stark contrast to the biting winter air that turned his cheeks redder by the second. he kept glancing at his reflection in store windows, adjusting his scarf nervously.

today wasn’t just any day—it was the day. the day he’d finally confess his feelings to you. for years, you’d been his best friend, his confidante, the one who made him laugh even on his darkest days and now, here he was, walking toward your house, knowing this wasn’t just a casual outing. it was you guys first date.

the thought made his stomach twist in knots. what if you didn’t feel the same? what if he ruined everything? he shook the doubts away, taking a deep breath. you had agreed to this date after all and that had to mean something. he gripped the flowers tighter, his palms sweaty despite the chill.

as your house came into view, he paused, his heart pounding louder than ever. He took another deep breath and forced himself to smile. no turning back now. today was the day he’d tell you—tell you how much you mean to him, how you’d always been more than just a friend. whatever happened next, he was ready to take the leap.

riki stood at your doorstep, heart thudding in his chest as he stared at the polished wooden door. he adjusted his scarf one last time, took a deep breath, and raised a shaky hand to knock. before he could, the door swung open, and there you were, framed by the warm glow of the house behind you.

“hey!” you greeted, your smile wide and welcoming. your cheeks were a little flushed, whether from the cold or something else, he couldn’t tell. you looked effortlessly beautiful, your cozy sweater and scarf making you seem so at ease, while he felt like a bundle of nerves barely holding it together.

“hi,” he managed, his voice cracking slightly. he cleared his throat quickly and thrust the bouquet forward. “uh, these are for you.”

your eyes lit up as you looked at the flowers, and you let out a soft laugh. “they’re beautiful, thank you!” you reached out to take them, your fingers brushing his for a moment, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. “you didn’t have to, you know.”

“i—uh, i wanted to,” he said, fumbling over the words. “i mean, it’s a special day… i mean, not just because of the date—uh, i mean the calendar date, not our date—” he stopped himself, realizing he was rambling. “sorry i’m nervous.”

you laughed again, this time a little softer, your gaze meeting his. “you don’t need to be nervous, it’s just me,” you said, your tone reassuring.

“that’s exactly why i’m nervous,” he admitted before he could stop himself, his cheeks immediately heating up. “i just… i want today to be perfect.”

your expression softened and you stepped closer, your eyes searching his. “it already is,” you said quietly, holding the bouquet to your chest. “come on, let’s go. we’ll figure out the rest together.” he smiled then, feeling a bit of the tension melt away. together. maybe today would go just the way he’d hoped after all.

the crisp winter air nipped at you and rikis noses as you two arrived at the ice skating rink. string lights hung above, casting a warm glow over the sparkling ice. the sound of laughter and the scrape of skates against the rink filled the air. you looked around, your eyes wide with excitement.

“i haven’t been ice skating in ages!” you exclaimed, turning to him with a grin. “me neither,” he admitted, though he wasn’t sure if it was the truth. his focus wasn’t on skating—it was on making this day special for you.

you two picked up your skates and as you two sat on a nearby bench to put them on, he noticed you struggling with the laces. “here let me help” he said, kneeling down before you could protest.“you don’t have to-” you started, but he was already working on the first skate, his fingers deftly tying the laces with care.

“i want to,” he said, glancing up at you with a small, nervous smile. he couldn’t help but notice how close you two were, your face just inches from his. you smiled softly, your gaze lingering on him as he finished the second shoe. “there all set,” he said, standing and offering his hand to help you up.“thanks,” you said, slipping your hand into his. your touch was warm despite the chill, and he found himself reluctant to let go.

on the ice, it was clear you were both rusty. you wobbled almost immediately, letting out a squeal as your arms flailed for balance. “woah, careful!” he said, laughing as he reached out to steady you. you grabbed onto his arm, gripping it tightly.

“you said you were rusty too!” you accused playfully, though your grin gave you away. “i am!” he protested. “but i think i’m a little less… wobbly than you.”

you gave him a mock glare but clung to his arm as you glided—well, shuffled—across the ice together. every now and then, you’d laugh as you nearly lost your balance and he couldn’t help but join in, his nerves slowly melting away with every smile you gave him.

at one point, you tugged him toward the middle of the rink. “let’s try going faster!” you said, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “are you trying to make us both to fall?” he asked, but he couldn’t say no to you. now picking up speed, your hands clasped tightly together. when you stumbled, he caught you, pulling you close to steady you. “see? you’re getting the hang of it,” he said, his voice soft as he looked down at you.

“only because i have you to hold on to,” you replied, your cheeks pink—not just from the cold. you and rikis eyes met and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away.

as you two skated, you found herself stealing glances at him. there was something endearing about the way he focused so intently, like he was determined to make sure you didn’t fall. you felt your heart flutter every time he reached out to steady you or laughed with you.

he, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about how effortlessly you lit up the entire rink. every laugh, every smile, made his chest feel warm despite the freezing air. he wanted this moment to last forever, wanted you to know how much you meant to him.

as you two reached the edge of the rink, both cheeks flushed from the cold and laughter, you slowed to a stop. you leaned on the barrier, brushing a strand of hair from your face, your breath visible in the chilly air.

“you’re not so bad at this after all,” you teased, glancing at him with a playful smile.“thanks,” he replied, grinning. “but i think you’re the one stealing the show out there.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “sure, if by ‘stealing the show,’ you mean almost falling on my face every five seconds.”

“you call it falling, i call it making a dramatic entrance,” he said, earning another laugh from you. the sound made his chest feel light, like he could float away.

standing there for a moment, catching your breath. riki hesitated, the words he wanted to say lingering on the tip of his tongue but instead of speaking, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and glanced at you.

“you know,” he said, breaking the silence, “all this skating has me craving something sweet. want to go grab some ice cream?” your eyes lit up and you turned to him with an incredulous laugh. “ice cream? in this weather?”

he shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the slight tremor of nerves in his voice. “what can i say? ice cream is a year round thing.” you tilted your head, pretending to think it over. “hmm, i suppose i could be convinced. but only if you promise not to steal all the toppings.”

“deal,” he said, his grin widening. he offered his hand, and when you took it, your fingers fit perfectly in his.

as you two left the rink and walked toward the nearest ice cream shop, laughter echoed into the crisp evening air. neither of you said it out loud, but you both felt it—this was more than just a good day. this was the start of something you’d both remember for a long time.

the warmth of the ice cream shop was a welcome contrast to the crisp winter air outside. the smell of freshly made waffle cones filled the air and the glass display case showcased an array of brightly colored ice cream flavors. you pressed your face to the glass, scanning the options with wide eyes.

“okayyy,” she said, pointing dramatically. “strawberry cheesecake, always the winner.”

“solid choice,” he said, nodding. “but i think i’m going with cookie dough.”

“you’re so predictable,” you teased, shooting him a grin.

“and you’re not?” he countered with a laugh. “strawberry cheesecake every time?”

“hey, don’t knock it till you try it,” you replied as you two stepped up to the counter to place your orders.

minutes later, you and riki were sitting at a small table by the window, your cones in hand. outside, the world was still covered in a blanket of winter, but in here, the laughter and warmth felt like a bubble just for the two of you.

“so,” you said between bites of your ice cream, “do you always eat ice cream in freezing weather or is this just a special occasion?” riki shrugged, smirking. “ice cream’s good anytime but i guess today feels… special.” you paused, your ice cream hovering in the air and smiled softly at him. “yeah…it does.”

as you took another bite, a tiny smudge of ice cream clung to the corner of your mouth. he noticed it instantly, his heart skipping a beat.

“you’ve got a little…” he said, motioning to his own mouth. you frowned, confused. “what? where?”

“here,” he said softly, leaning in. before you could protest, he reached out with his thumb and gently wiped the ice cream away. his touch lingered for a moment, his hand close to your cheek.

your breath caught and you sat still, looking up at him. your eyes met and the playful banter faded into silence. the world around you two seemed to blur, the warmth of the shop and the soft hum of conversation fading into the background. all tiki could see was you—the way your eyes sparkled under the shop’s lights, the slight flush on your cheeks.

you felt your heart racing as his gaze held yours. his hand dropped slowly and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“thanks,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper, your lips curving into a small, shy smile. “anytime,” he replied softly, his own cheeks a little pink now.

the moment lingered between you both, full of unspoken words and something new, something neither of you were ready to name just yet. then, as if on cue, you laughed lightly, breaking the tension.

“you’re lucky i didn’t get sprinkles,” you said, your tone teasing again. he chuckled, grateful for the ease in your voice. “true, that could’ve been a real disaster.”

you both laughed and just like that, the moment passed, leaving behind a warmth that neither of you could shake as you finished your cones and ventured back out into the winter air.

as you two stepped out of the ice cream shop, you and rikis laughter lingering in the frosty air, he glanced at you with a small, nervous smile. his hands were tucked into his coat pockets and his heart raced as he finally worked up the courage to say it.

“so, uh… i have one more surprise for you,” he said, his voice tentative.

you turned to him, your eyes lighting up with curiosity. “another surprise? you’re really pulling out all the stops today.”he chuckled, shrugging. “well, i just thought you deserved a day that’s… special. come on, you’ll see.”

intrigued, you followed him as you two walked through the softly illuminated streets. the quiet crunch of snow beneath you and his boots were accompanied by your soft hums of contentment. eventually, you two arrived at a gated entrance glowing with an otherworldly light. a sign read “the imaginarium”, and through the entrance, the entire area seemed to sparkle and shimmer like a dreamscape.

your breath hitched as you took it all in. “this… this is amazing,” you whispered. “come on,” he said, offering his hand. you didn’t hesitate, slipping your fingers into his. your touch sent a warmth coursing through him that no winter chill could touch.

inside, the Imaginarium was a wonderland of lights and color. twinkling displays of glowing flowers, cascading streams of light that looked like waterfalls, and luminous arches stretched across the pathways. ypu walked slowly, your eyes wide with wonder, marveling at each glowing creation.

“this is incredible,” she said, your voice filled with awe. you pointed at a field of tiny glowing mushrooms that pulsed gently with shifting hues. “look at that—it’s like a fairy tale come to life.”

riki barely heard you. his gaze wasn’t on the lights or the displays—it was on you. the way your eyes sparkled brighter than the lights themselves, the way your breath fogged in the cold as you spoke, the soft, genuine smile that hadn’t left your face since they’d entered.

you let out a delighted laugh when you spotted a tunnel of stars, their golden light shimmering above like a celestial canopy. as you walked ahead to admire it, your hand still in his, riki couldn’t take his eyes off you. the glow of the lights danced across your face, illuminating your soft features in a way that took his breath away.

you turned to him, catching him mid stare. “what?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, a playful smile on your lips. he blinked, caught off guard. “nothing,” he said quickly, his voice soft. but then, unable to stop himself, he added, “it’s just… you look so happy. i love seeing you like this.”

your cheeks turned pink, though whether it was from the cold or his words, he couldn’t tell. “well, this is kind of magical,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “thank you for bringing me here.” “anytime,” he said, his tone sincere. “i mean it.”

you and riki continued walking, your hand still in his. every now and then, you’d stop to admire another display, gasping softly at the details, while he simply stood beside you, his gaze never leaving you. to him, the lights, the beauty of the imaginarium—they all paled in comparison to you. the way you lit up, the way your joy was so genuine, it made everything else feel like a backdrop to your presence.

at one point, you and him reached a small pond surrounded by glowing reeds and lily pads that seemed to float on the surface, their soft hues reflecting in the water. you leaned against the railing, taking it all in with a dreamy expression. riki stood beside you, his heart full, unable to stop himself from memorizing every detail of your face—the curve of your lips, the way your eyes shone, the gentle way your scarf framed your features.

you turned to him again, your smile soft this time. “you’ve been quiet, are you okay?” he nodded, his throat tight with emotion he wasn’t sure he could put into words. “yeah,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’m more than okay.” your gaze lingered on him for a moment before you squeezed his hand. “good,” you said, your voice just as soft.

as you two continued through the glowing wonderland, hand in hand, he knew one thing for certain : he could have spent the entire night in the imaginarium and never looked at a single light, as long as he was with you.

the path through the imaginarium led them to a grove bathed in soft, golden light. the trees were wrapped in strands of tiny, glimmering bulbs that cascaded down like waterfalls, swaying gently in the breeze. overhead, a canopy of suspended orbs glowed like floating moons, their light shifting from white to gold to the faintest pink. the snow beneath their feet sparkled faintly, reflecting the magic of the lights above.

you walked ahead of him, your hand still in his, your soft laughter carrying on the crisp night air. your eyes were alight with wonder, darting from one glowing creation to another. occasionally, you’d point something out, a strand of lights that mimicked shooting stars or a delicate sculpture made entirely of shimmering glass. your voice was filled with awe and your smile was brighter than any light around them.

but while you admired the world around you, riki admired you. the way the lights danced across your face, casting delicate patterns on your skin, made you look almost otherworldly. your hair caught the golden glow, framing you in a soft halo that seemed to pulse with every step you took. your cheeks were flushed from the cold, your breath visible in tiny clouds and your scarf was slightly askew, but to him, you had never looked more perfect.

you stopped beneath an archway of intertwining lights, the beams curving overhead like the ribs of a glowing cathedral. you turned back to him, your eyes wide with excitement. “look at this,” you said, gesturing upward. “it’s like standing inside a constellation.”

riki barely heard your words. his heart was pounding in his chest as he took you in. your face, so full of wonder, seemed to glow from within. every detail of you—your sparkling eyes, the gentle curve of your lips, the way your hand fit so perfectly in his—was etched into his mind. in that moment, the beauty of the lights around them seemed to fade, paling in comparison to you.

it hit him like a sudden wave..this is it. the feeling that had been growing inside him, simmering quietly for years, could no longer be ignored. seeing you like this, so radiant and full of life, made him realize that no moment would ever be more perfect. he couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“hey,” he said, his voice soft, yet steady. you turned to him fully, your head tilting slightly. “what is it?” you asked, your expression curious.

he took a deep breath, his fingers tightening around yours. the words felt heavy, like they carried every ounce of emotion he had been holding back. “i need to tell you something,” he began, his voice quieter now, almost trembling with vulnerability.

your expression shifted, your eyes searching his face. “you’re being serious,” you said softly, your tone laced with concern and curiosity.

“i am,” he said, nodding. he took a step closer, so close now that he could see the reflection of the lights in your eyes, the way they shimmered like liquid gold. “i’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and… i can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

your brows furrowed slightly but you didn’t say anything. you just waited, giving him your full attention, your hand still warm in his.

“you—” he paused, swallowing hard as he gathered his thoughts. “you mean so much to me, more than i think you realize. and today, seeing you like this, seeing you so happy, so… beautiful…” he trailed off for a moment, his chest tightening. “i realized that i can’t go another day without saying it.”

your lips parted slightly, your breath visible in the cold air as you stared at him, your expression unreadable. “saying what?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

he exhaled shakily, his gaze locked on yours. “that i care about you..not just as a friend, not just as someone i love spending time with… but as someone i’ve fallen for. completely.”

your eyes widened slightly, the lights above catching the faint shimmer of emotion in them. the world around you two seemed to pause, the sounds of distant laughter and soft music fading into silence. all he could hear was his own heartbeat, thundering in his chest as he waited for your to respond.

he took another breath, his voice growing steadier as the emotions poured out of him. “you’ve always been this… light in my life, you know? like no matter how hard things get or how much the world feels like it’s falling apart, you’re there and suddenly everything makes sense again. you make things better, just by being you.”

you were silent, your lips slightly parted as you listened, your hand still in his. the golden light above them danced across your face, illuminating the soft flush of your cheeks, the slight shimmer in your eyes.

“you’re the first person i want to talk to when something amazing happens,” he continued, his voice filled with quiet urgency. “and the only one i want to see when things feel impossible. i look at you, and it’s like..it’s like the world slows down. and today, seeing you here, like this..it’s made me realize something i’ve been trying to deny for too long.”

he took a small step closer, the space between them narrowing until he could feel the faint warmth radiating from you despite the winter chill. his gaze softened as he looked down at you, taking in every detail of your expression.

“i realized that i don’t just like being with you. i need to be with you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper now. “you make everything brighter, everything better. and i-” he paused, his throat tightening, but he pressed on. “i’ve fallen in love with you, completely. and i don’t know where this will go, or how you feel, but i had to tell you because you deserve to know just how much you mean to me.”

your eyes glistened as you stared at him, your breath hitching slightly. the silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken feelings, as the golden lights flickered softly above. he held his breath, waiting for your response, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

riki took another step closer, your hands still intertwined, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. his heart raced, the weight of the moment pressing against his chest. the lights around them seemed to blur into a soft golden haze, as if the universe itself was holding its breath, waiting for what would happen next.

“i know this might feel like a lot,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less earnest. “and i know this changes everything but i also know that i don’t want to keep wondering, or waiting, or pretending these feelings don’t exist.”

his gaze locked with yours, his eyes soft and full of vulnerability. “you mean so much to me, more than i can ever put into words and i want to be the one who makes you smile like this every day. i want to be by your side, not just as your friend, but as..something more.”

he let out a breath, the faintest mist forming in the cold air as he finally asked the question that had been building inside him for so long. “will you be my girlfriend?”

the words hung in the air between them, fragile yet powerful, carrying every ounce of hope, fear, and love he felt for you. your eyes widened slightly, your breath catching as you stared at him, the golden lights reflecting in your gaze.

you opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out at first. the world seemed to slow, every second stretching out endlessly as he waited, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure she could hear it. your lips parted again and you drew in a breath, your expression unreadable.

and then she gave him a response—

wouldn’t you like to know - (hobie brown from spiderman)

☆.。.：*。.：*・.：*・.。.：*。.：*・.：*・.。.：*。.：*・.☆

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[gpcwsl]

Warnings: kissing?

Lia Wälti x Reader:

Title: A Game Of Hearts

MasterList

The café was bright and bustling, the hum of conversation blending with the whirr of an espresso machine. You sat across from Alessia and Kyra, your coffee cooling in front of you, untouched. Alessia’s laughter rang out as Kyra leaned in to whisper something to her, their private little bubble shutting you out again.

You shouldn’t feel bitter. Alessia was your best friend, and you were thrilled that she had found someone who made her so happy. But being the perpetual third wheel had a way of gnawing at your confidence.

“[Y/N],” Alessia said suddenly, pulling you from your thoughts. “You’ve been quiet. You okay?”

You forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

Kyra arched an eyebrow, her easygoing demeanor tinged with concern. “You sure? You’ve been working a lot lately.”

You shrugged. “Work’s work. Can’t exactly slack off, can I?”

Alessia exchanged a glance with Kyra, and you knew what was coming—a well-meaning but ultimately unhelpful attempt to dig deeper. You quickly deflected.

“So, how’s training going?” you asked, steering the conversation back to them.

Kyra launched into a story about their last scrimmage, Alessia chiming in with her usual enthusiasm. You nodded along, but their words blurred in your mind. You stirred your coffee absently, watching the foam dissolve into the liquid.

By the time you left the café, your chest felt heavy.

That evening, your phone buzzed with a text from Alessia.

Alessia: Hey, some of the team is going out tomorrow night. You should come!

You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. The thought of spending another night feeling out of place wasn’t exactly appealing.

You: I don’t know… I’ll probably just stay in.

Her reply came almost instantly.

Alessia: Nope. You’re coming. Non-negotiable.

You sighed. Alessia had a way of dragging you out of your comfort zone, and you didn’t have the energy to argue.

You: Fine. What time?

Alessia: 7. Dress cute.

The bar was already packed when you arrived. Music thumped through the speakers, the bass vibrating in your chest. You spotted the team near the back, crowded around a long table.

“There you are!” Alessia called, waving you over.

You slid into the booth beside her, the faint smell of her perfume a comforting reminder of home. The rest of the team greeted you warmly, their energy infectious. But as the night wore on, you found yourself retreating into your shell.

It wasn’t intentional; you just didn’t know how to fit into the whirlwind of inside jokes and playful banter. Alessia and Kyra were glued to each other, and the others were too absorbed in their own conversations to notice your quiet withdrawal.

Until Lia Wälti appeared.

“You look like you could use some air,” she said, her voice cutting through the noise like a soft breeze.

You glanced up, surprised. She was standing beside you, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos around you.

“Is it that obvious?” you asked with a weak laugh.

She smiled, tilting her head toward the door. “Come on.”

Outside, the air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain. The quiet was a welcome relief from the bar’s overwhelming noise.

“Thanks,” you said, shoving your hands into your pockets. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

Lia leaned against the wall, her dark eyes studying you. “You seemed a little… out of place in there.”

You shrugged. “I guess I’m not really the ‘night out’ type.”

“Neither am I,” she admitted. “But sometimes it’s good to step out of your comfort zone.”

You nodded, unsure how to respond. There was something about Lia—her presence was steady, grounding. She didn’t push for conversation, letting the silence settle comfortably between you.

When you returned to the table, something had shifted. Lia stayed close, occasionally drawing you into the group’s conversations, and for the first time that night, you felt like you belonged.

The following weeks were a blur of small moments. Lia would invite you to join her for lunch after training or sit with you during team gatherings, her quiet company becoming a constant in your life.

One afternoon, after a particularly exhausting training session, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the field, staring at the empty stands.

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Lia approaching, a bottle of water in her hand. She sat beside you, close enough that her shoulder brushed yours.

“Rough day?” she asked, offering you the water.

“Something like that,” you muttered, taking a sip.

Lia didn’t press, her gaze fixed on the horizon. After a long pause, she said, “You don’t have to carry everything on your own, you know.”

Her words caught you off guard. “What do you mean?”

She turned to face you, her expression soft but serious. “I mean, you have people who care about you. Let them in.”

You swallowed hard, her words striking a chord you hadn’t expected. “It’s not that simple.”

“Maybe not,” she said. “But it’s worth it.”

For the first time in a long time, you felt the walls around your heart begin to crack.

Lia’s idea of a break was a quiet afternoon at a park just outside the city. The two of you strolled along a winding path, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant hum of bees.

“This place is beautiful,” you said, your voice hushed as if speaking too loudly would disrupt the tranquility.

“It’s my favorite spot,” Lia admitted. “Whenever I need to clear my head, I come here.”

You walked in silence for a while, the only sound the crunch of gravel beneath your feet. Eventually, you reached a small pond, the water shimmering in the sunlight.

Lia sat on the grass, patting the spot beside her. You joined her, the warmth of the sun on your skin a stark contrast to the nervous flutter in your chest.

“Thank you,” you said after a while.

“For what?” she asked, turning to look at you.

“For this. For… everything.”

Her dark eyes searched yours, her expression unreadable. “You don’t have to thank me, [Y/N]. I’m happy you’re here.”

The air between you felt charged, as if something unspoken was lingering just out of reach. But neither of you acted on it, letting the moment pass.

The team’s weekend retreat was supposed to be a bonding experience, but for you, it was a chance to spend more time with Lia. Sharing a cabin with her was both thrilling and terrifying, every small interaction sending your heart racing.

One night, while the others gathered around a campfire, you stayed behind with Lia. The cabin was quiet, the only light coming from the crackling fireplace.

“I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for months,” you admitted, staring into the flames.

“Why?” Lia asked, her voice gentle.

“Because… I don’t know how to let go. How to stop feeling like I’m not enough.”

She reached out, her hand covering yours. The warmth of her touch sent a shiver through you.

“You are enough, [Y/N],” she said softly. “More than enough.”

You looked at her, your heart pounding. The words were on the tip of your tongue, but fear held you back. Instead, you squeezed her hand, hoping she understood what you couldn’t say.

It happened on a quiet afternoon at Lia’s apartment. You sat across from her, watching her laugh at something you said, and suddenly, you couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“Lia,” you said, your voice trembling.

She looked up, her smile fading as she saw the seriousness in your expression.

“I… I think I’m falling for you,” you admitted, your heart hammering in your chest.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Then she reached across the table, taking your hand in hers.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” she said softly.

Relief flooded through you, and when she leaned in to kiss you, it felt like the world finally made sense.

The transition from friends to something more was seamless. Lia was patient and kind, her love quiet but unwavering. Alessia and Kyra teased you endlessly, but their support was a constant reminder of the family you’d found.

As you stood on the sidelines during a match, watching Lia lead the team with her steady presence, you couldn’t help but smile.

You weren’t just a third wheel anymore. You were part of something bigger—something beautiful.

And for the first time, you felt whole.

[oscinhaslandito]

COFFEE AND CHEMISTRY

The First Encounter:

Y/N sighed as she entered the university library, clutching her laptop and a half-drunk iced coffee. She spotted Oscar Piastri, her senior and brother’s best friend, sitting at a corner table, engrossed in his code. Lando had texted her earlier: "Go find Osc, he's at the library. Tell him to eat or something."

She hesitated before approaching, feeling a bit awkward interrupting him. "Hey, Oscar. Lando sent me to... check on you?"

Oscar looked up, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Classic Lando. You’re his messenger now?"

"Apparently. Also, can I sit here? The Wi-Fi is awful everywhere else," she asked, already pulling out her chair, though her voice held a slight edge of hesitation.

"Go ahead," he said with a shrug, sliding his notes aside to make space.

She noticed the assortment of neatly arranged notes and the faint smell of coffee around him. Settling down, she opened her laptop and glanced at him, realizing this might not be as awkward as she thought. Over the next hour, they worked in parallel, occasionally exchanging a word or two, and by the time Y/N packed up, she was surprised at how comfortable she felt.

Study Sessions:

Their study sessions became a routine. Every other day, Y/N would find herself at the same table with Oscar, their laptops open and the occasional sound of typing filling the air. He would guide her through complex algorithms, his calm explanations cutting through her frustration.

"Wait, so if I just refactor this part of the code, it works?" she asked, her eyes wide with realization. She clicked a few keys, and the once-buggy program finally ran smoothly.

"Exactly," Oscar said, his tone patient. "It’s just cleaner and more efficient this way."

Y/N threw her hands up in mock surrender. "I owe you my GPA," she said dramatically, earning a quiet chuckle from him.

"You’re figuring it out yourself. I’m just nudging you in the right direction," he replied, but there was a hint of pride in his voice. "Wow, you're like my guardian mentor."

Oscar looked at her with a confused raise of brow. "Guardian mentor?"

She looked way too proud of her words, "Yeah, like a Guardian Angel who helps me study. That's a Guardian Mentor."

Over time, her confidence grew. She started solving problems faster, but still turned to him when she hit a wall. Those moments became less about solving the problem and more about the comfort of knowing someone had her back. Sometimes, they’d take short breaks, sharing stories about classes or laughing over ridiculous memes Y/N found. Each session felt less like a chore and more like a shared ritual.

The Comfortable Silences:

Not every session was filled with conversation. Sometimes, they’d sit in companionable silence, the only sounds being the tapping of keys and the occasional flip of a page. It was oddly comforting. Y/N found herself appreciating Oscar’s quiet focus and the subtle way he’d glance at her screen, checking on her progress without saying a word.

On one of those silent nights, she looked up and found him staring at the ceiling, his pen tapping lightly against his notebook. "Penny for your thoughts?" she asked, breaking the silence.

He shrugged, offering her a small smile. "Just wondering if I’ll survive my final project."

"If you don’t, who’s going to help me with mine?" she teased, earning a chuckle.

Occasionally, the silence was punctuated by shared snacks or the soft sound of Oscar humming absentmindedly. It was in these moments that Y/N realized how much she enjoyed his company, even without words.

The Breakthrough:

When Y/N finally completed a particularly tricky assignment, she nearly jumped out of her seat, earning a glare from the librarian.

"It works! Oscar, look!" she whispered excitedly, pointing at her screen.

He leaned over, his shoulder brushing hers as he checked her work. A proud smile spread across his face. "Told you you’d get it."

"Team effort," she said, grinning. "You’re like my coding guardian angel."

Lando, who had just arrived with snacks, raised his hands in mock celebration. "Hallelujah, the nerds have triumphed! Let’s commemorate this moment with pizza."

"Deal," Y/N said, laughing.

"You know," Lando added, "I feel like I deserve some credit for this too. I’m the one who made you two start studying together."

"Sure, Lando," Y/N said, rolling her eyes. "Your contribution was invaluable."

Oscar smirked. "The moral support was life-changing."

Lando grinned. "Exactly. Glad you both finally see it."

Later that night, as they walked back to their dorms, Y/N turned to Oscar. "Thanks for always helping me. I don’t think I would’ve gotten through this semester without you."

"Anytime," he replied softly, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer than usual.

The Late Nights:

Their study sessions often stretched into the late evenings. The library’s quiet hum became their soundtrack as they worked under the soft glow of desk lamps. On one particularly late night, Y/N’s head started to droop, her notes blurring before her eyes.

Oscar noticed, nudging her gently with his elbow. "You’re falling asleep," he said softly.

"Am not," she mumbled, her eyes half-closed.

"Come on," he said, packing up her things. "I’ll walk you back to your dorm."

"You’re too nice," she murmured, already half-asleep as they walked through the empty campus.

"Someone’s gotta look out for you," he replied, his voice low but warm. The quiet night air seemed to hold something unspoken between them.

The Little Gestures and Moments:

One evening, Y/N’s iced coffee was running low, and Oscar excused himself for a break. He returned with a fresh cup for her, setting it down without a word.

"Thought you’d need it," he said simply, his tone casual.

She blinked up at him, touched by the gesture. "Thanks, Osc."

Before she could say more, Lando sauntered over, smirking. "Well, aren’t you thoughtful?" he said, plopping into a seat.

Oscar rolled his eyes. "Don’t make it weird."

"Too late," Lando quipped, winking at Y/N.

The next day, Lando’s teasing escalated. "So, Osc, is this your secret way of wooing her? Coffee runs and all?"

"It’s called being polite," Oscar replied, though his ears turned slightly red.

Y/N groaned. "Lando, stop embarrassing him—and me!"

"Never," Lando said, grinning. "It’s my brotherly duty."

Later, as Oscar handed her a printout she needed, Lando chimed in, "Oh, a printout too? What’s next, love letters?"

Y/N threw a pen at him. "Out. Now."

Lando left, laughing, but not before saying, "I’m just saying—romance isn’t dead!"

Oscar started leaving small sticky notes with helpful tips or encouraging words on her desk when she wasn’t looking. One read, "You’ve got this! - OP." Y/N couldn’t help but smile, saving the notes in her notebook.

Between the teasing and late-night sessions, it was the small moments that stood out. The way Oscar would share his notes without hesitation, or how Y/N would save him a seat during crowded study hours. The way their hands would occasionally brush when reaching for a pen, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

It was in those fleeting touches and quiet smiles that an unspoken bond began to grow. Neither of them said anything, but both felt it. One evening, as Y/N leaned over to grab her bag, Oscar absentmindedly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She froze for a moment, their eyes meeting, before he quickly pulled back, his cheeks tinged with pink.

The Lando Fiasco:

Lando occasionally joined them, his presence like a whirlwind that disrupted their serene environment. He would sprawl out in a chair, his arms crossed behind his head and a bag of snacks on the table.

"You two look like an ad for academic excellence," he teased, tossing a gummy bear at Y/N. "Do you ever do normal things, or is it all code and coffee?"

"Yeah yeah, we get it we're nerdy. Blah blah blah," Y/N rolled her eyes, catching the gummy bear and popping it into her mouth.

He chuckled, looking amused, "But seriously, don’t let Oscar turn you into a full-blown nerd," Lando added, smirking at his best friend.

Oscar smirked back, his tone deadpan. "She’s already better at debugging than you ever were."

"Rude," Lando replied, pretending to be offended. "I was just giving her the opportunity to shine. You’re welcome, Y/N."

Another time, Lando leaned over to peer at Y/N’s screen. "What are you even doing? That looks like an alien language."

"It’s called programming, Lando," she replied dryly.

"Yeah, and it’s definitely not for humans," he quipped. "Osc, how do you even understand this stuff?"

Oscar shrugged. "It’s just practice. You could learn it if you tried."

Lando snorted. "I’ll stick to spreadsheets, thanks."

Sometimes, his interruptions turned into rambling monologues about business strategies or bizarre hypotheticals. One evening, he sprawled across the table dramatically. "If I get a friend to create an app for matchmaking nerds, would you two be my test subjects?"

Y/N groaned. "Lando, we’re trying to focus."

Oscar, without looking up, replied just so Lando wouldn't bug them further, "Only if you promise to never bring this up again."

Lando grinned. "Deal. But you’d owe me royalties if it works."

He also had a knack for sneaking pictures of them studying. "Just documenting the nerd life," he’d say, showing them a candid shot of Oscar leaning over to help Y/N with a problem. "For the memories."

"So, when are you two gonna start dating?" Lando asked one day, casually leaning against the table.

Y/N choked on her coffee, and Oscar’s ears turned red.

"What? We’re just studying," Y/N protested, her voice a mix of embarrassment and disbelief.

"Sure, and I love pescatarians," Lando said, grinning. "Seriously, Osc, you’re basically already part of the family. Just make it official."

Oscar cleared his throat, trying to regain composure. "You’re unbelievable."

"And you’re avoiding the question," Lando shot back, his teasing grin widening.

Later, when Y/N had stepped away to go to class, Lando leaned closer to Oscar. "Just so you know, if you hurt her, you’ll have to deal with me."

Oscar’s expression softened. "I’d never do that."

Lando nodded, his usual playful demeanor giving way to sincerity for a moment. "Good."

On another day, Lando orchestrated a "random" movie night, conveniently inviting just the two of them. "Oops, looks like I’m busy tonight," he said, feigning regret. "Guess it’s just you two."

Y/N glared at him. "You’re the least subtle person ever."

"You’re welcome," Lando said, unabashed.

His meddling didn’t stop there. He started dropping hints to their mutual friends, ensuring they’d all conveniently "notice" how close Oscar and Y/N were. "Don’t you think they’d make a cute couple?" he’d say, grinning mischievously.

Lando’s teasing, it was clear to everyone—especially Lando—that there was something special about their dynamic. Whether it was the way Oscar’s gaze softened when Y/N talked about her goals, or how Y/N instinctively turned to Oscar for reassurance, their connection spoke volumes.

"You’re good for each other," Lando said one evening, his tone unusually sincere.

Oscar glanced at Y/N, who was too busy typing to notice. "Yeah," he said quietly, a small smile playing on his lips. "I guess we are."

The Confession:

It wasn’t a grand confession, but rather a culmination of Lando’s relentless teasing and their own shared moments. One evening, as they packed up from another late study session, Oscar sighed, his gaze shifting from the desk to Y/N.

"Can I ask you something?" he began, his tone a little more serious than usual.

She looked up, her expression curious. "What’s up?"

"Do you... ever get tired of Lando pushing us together?"

Y/N laughed softly. "Constantly. He’s relentless."

Oscar hesitated, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. "The thing is... he’s not entirely wrong. About us, I mean."

Her smile faltered, replaced by a look of surprise. "Oscar..."

"I just think," he continued, his voice steady but earnest, "that maybe we’re wasting time pretending he’s off-base. Because he’s not. At least, not for me. What about you?"

She stared at him for a moment, her heartbeat loud in her ears. Then, a small, shy smile spread across her face. "He’s not wrong for me either."

Relief washed over Oscar’s face, and his lips curved into a genuine smile. "So, what do you say? Dinner? Just us?"

"Are you asking me out, Piastri?"

[mim16s]

Survival in Game

Cho Hyun-ju x Autistic!Fem!Reader

•I'm not autistic, but I have a brother and a cousin who are, so I used my experience living with them to write this character. English is not my first language, but I tried my best to write this without spelling errors. This is my first story on this app, so I hope it is good.

This wasn’t what you wanted for your life. Honestly, you didn’t even understand how you had gotten to this point. All you wanted was to take care of your mother, to repay all the effort she had put into you. And you knew how hard it had been for her.

She got pregnant young and raised you on her own, with no support system. Your father? Well, you never knew him. He disappeared as soon as he found out about the pregnancy. Your grandparents, embarrassed that she had gotten pregnant so young and without even getting married, abandoned her too. That’s how your mother faced the world alone, with you in her arms.

And things got even harder. You knew that being autistic made everything more challenging for her. As a child, you didn’t speak, and your first words came only after many therapy sessions, which were expensive. But she never gave up. You remembered seeing her come home, exhausted after a long day of work, but always with a smile.

— Mom is fine. You’re everything I need to have strength, — she would say, trying to hide her exhaustion.

But you knew the truth. You knew how much she fought, how she struggled to meet all your needs, to make sure you never lacked anything. Everything fell apart when she got sick. You were 19. The illness took all her strength, and she could no longer work. That’s when the weight of the world fell on you. You had to find a job, but no matter how hard you tried, no one wanted to give you a chance. When they saw you weren’t neurotypical, they wouldn’t give you a chance.

Life became a daily struggle. You survived doing small jobs here and there, while some kind neighbors helped with food baskets. But the money was never enough, and the debts started piling up. Your mother’s treatments were expensive, and with each unpaid bill, the despair grew.Then he appeared. The man in the suit.He appeared out of nowhere, as if fate had sent him. With a piercing look, holding a briefcase in his hand. He stopped in front of you while you were resting in one of the subway chairs, with a smile that made you just as uncomfortable as it did curious.

— Looks like you need an opportunity, don’t you?—You hesitated, unsure of what to respond. He seemed to know exactly who you were and what you were going through.

— I want to propose something to you.

And that’s when you got a card with geometric symbols and a phone number. You stared at it, your heart racing without fully understanding it.

---

And now, here you were: in a strange hall, surrounded by people you didn’t know, in a place you had never seen before, wearing clothes you didn’t even remember putting on, and the fabric itched. You weren’t the only one confused. Perplexed looks crossed the room, and nervous whispers filled the air.

Then they appeared: masked soldiers, wearing uniforms that seemed more threatening than functional. You couldn’t help but shrink back, a heavy feeling that something was terribly wrong.They began to speak, explaining what was happening.

— Excuse me! — A voice echoed. Your eyes followed the sound until they landed on a beautiful woman, who seemed just as indignant as she was confident. — They said it would just be some games, but you kidnapped us. And you still want me to believe this?

— We apologize, — one of the masked soldiers replied, the voice distorted by some sort of modifier. — It was a necessary measure to ensure the confidentiality of the games we are organizing.

Questions started popping up from all sides, but the answers provided no comfort, only more tension. You wanted to understand better, but it was hard to follow. The questions, the sounds around you, the smell of sweat and fear in the hall, everything was pulling you in different directions. You began to rock back and forth slightly, trying to focus. It was something that always helped. But the discomfort persisted.

---

You were led to a large open field, surrounded by high fences and cameras that seemed to record every movement. It was announced that the first game would begin soon. When a desperate man screamed that, if anyone was eliminated, they would die, a chill ran down your spine. It couldn’t be true... right? But when the game began, the illusion of safety shattered. The sharp sound of a gunshot cut through the air. Your eyes widened, shock paralyzing you. That sound — loud, deafening to your sensitive hearing — seemed to hammer in your head. You instinctively wanted to cover your ears to block out that deafening noise, but you felt someone hold your hands firmly, preventing any sudden movements.

— Don’t move, it’s dangerous. — The voice came from behind. It was the beautiful woman from before. There was something in the firmness of her tone that managed to cut through your panic, bringing some calm.

— My ears hurt, — you murmured, your voice trembling.

— I know. But you have to hold on. Just a little longer.

Chaos spread around you. People were screaming, some running in desperation, while others were falling to the sound of new gunshots. You felt terror take hold, a heavy knot in your throat. Your legs felt like stone.

— If you don't cross the line in time, they'll still kill you! Look at the doll's eyes! They're cameras that scan for motion! But it's not able to detect you if you're behind something! — screamed one of the players, his voice desperate. — So if you short, line up behind someone who's taller than you!

Your body wouldn’t respond. You were frozen, the noise and the fear trapping you in place.The beautiful woman stopped in front of you, blocking your view of the rest of the field.

— Keep going. — Her voice was urgent, yet gentle. — You need to keep going. Don’t worry, I’ll stay in front of you. Just follow me, okay?

You couldn’t verbalize, but when the music started again, you followed her. Each step behind her felt like an eternity, but she kept her promise, protecting you as you moved forward.

After the game ended, everyone was taken back to the room. The atmosphere was heavy, filled with fear and despair. Lost looks, uncertain steps — everyone seemed terrified, and you were no different.Sitting on one of the beds, you rocked back and forth, an automatic motion, a desperate attempt to find comfort. But it didn’t help. Your breathing was uneven, the sounds around you seemed amplified, and all you wanted was to leave. Your mind raced in circles, always returning to the same question: Why me? You just wanted to help your mother. Everything you did was for her, and now you were trapped here, too scared to do anything.Then the voice of the masked soldiers echoed through the room, imposing order, the man from before who said he had already participated in this game proposed the vote.At first, the idea of voting seemed like an escape. A chance to get out of that terrible situation.

But then they revealed the amount of money accumulated by the people who had died. The sum gleamed in a giant safe suspended in the room. The shine of the money seemed to hypnotize some. Murmurs started to arise. Many were considering staying. You felt a tightness in your chest.

When the vote began, the sound of buttons being pressed was like a constant drum in your ears. You watched the people go to the ballot box, one by one, pressing their votes. Some hesitated, others went with determination.When it was your turn, your hands trembled as you walked up to the ballot box. The panel blinked in front of you: a circle to stay and an “X” to leave. You could barely see properly, your vision blurred by the tears at the corners of your eyes.Your finger pressed the “X.” You wanted to leave, go home. You needed your mother as much as she needed you. But when the final vote was recorded and the numbers were revealed, your heart sank.The majority had chosen to stay.Panic took over you again. Your fingers began to tremble uncontrollably, and you went back to your bed, feeling your whole body tighten. Your mind was in chaos. The rocking movement returned, but this time even more intense, as if your body was trying to compensate for the avalanche of emotions.You felt helpless. You wanted to scream, to cry, but all you could do was try to hold onto the little control you still had.

The terror was greater than anything you had ever felt before. And, even worse, it was just the beginning

Part 2:

[lionhanie]

study with boynextdoor! (ot6 hc + drabbles)

….ranked from best to worst study buddies 😅

classmate!boynextdoor x gn!reader (college au)

word count: 3.4k (~500-700 each)

warnings: TW SCHOOL 👎, written in lowercase, there’s a curse word here and there…, No Beta We Die Like Men (not proofread very well lmao)

a/n: wrote this while i was procrastinating studying for my final exams :,) soooo these r self indulgent hoohohoh ... enjoy :3

reblogs ↺  + feedback always appreciated!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･sungho

tbh i feel like he’s the type to not study and just. be perfect idk 

sungho pays attention in class so he doesn’t feel the need to review extensively before the exam … COULD NOT BE ME!!!!

with that being said tho, he’s the perfect tutor ^_^

sungho will definitely be right by your side as you’re doing the exam review packet, waiting to see if you get stumped on a particular question 

when you do, he walks you through the steps you got stuck on, making sure you /actually/ understand the content rather than just doing whatever he tells you to do

and if he isn’t able to be physically there with you, he will literally be on standby bc he’s so used to you calling him for help the night before the exam :,) 

he is SO patient too. especially because he sees how hard you’re working and he just wants to see all of your hard work pay off 

sometimes you’ll feel bad because you feel like you’re taking up too much of his time just because you don’t understand the material 

but he’s so quick to reassure you about it all bc he genuinely doesn’t mind, and he will MAKE SURE you know that 

✐ᝰ

you place your head into your hands for the nth time that night, groaning at the way you can’t seem to memorize the right definitions. sungho chuckles from the other side of the phone, knowing exactly how you look despite not being able to see you right now. “everything okay over there?”

“i’ve been studying for so long and it still doesn’t make any sense,” taking a look at the time, you realize it’s later than you expected. “you know, you really don’t need to help me study right?” 

“how many times do i have to tell you that–”

“yeah, i know you don’t mind, but i always feel bad keeping you awake any later than you need to be.” of course you’d take all the help you could get, but you don’t have it in you to hold him hostage again for the sake of your grade. “...goodnight, sungho!” you end the call before he has any chance to reassure you any further.

…you’re not surprised when you get a knock on your door 20 minutes later, opening it to see sungho with a bunch of snacks in one hand and his backpack slung over his shoulder. “are you still going to turn me down after i went through all the trouble of coming over?” 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ jaehyun

he’s so annoying to study with (endearingly) but i feel like a study sesh with him would guarantee you are getting a good grade on your exams

since he’s so hardworking i feel like he’d immediately call you out if you were getting sidetracked when you weren’t supposed to be 

or if he doesn’t…. him being Ultra Locked In only makes You feel like you Also need to be Ultra Locked In

it’s honestly kind of scary how On Top Of Business jae can be when he needs to study…. bc he’s normally pretty hyper Every Other Time, you didn’t know he was capable of being so quiet for an extended period of time

it’s suuuuper impressive how seriously he takes his studies though… sometimes you’ll stop him when you have a question about something and he’ll explain it with EASE before immediately getting back into the zone

bad news for yappers because jaehyun is NOT entertaining the conversation unless he is Also taking a break. if anything he might even be the type to side-eye the people being too loud in the library because he doesn’t want them to distract you 

honestly though it’ll probably help you get a lot more done 

even though he studies like his life depends on it, i think he’s really good when it comes to balancing the work so your brain isn’t fried too quickly

i fully believe he will like. have some weird ass Study “Hacks” that lowkey make no sense but you entertain them bc he’s a cutiepatootie :3 

✐ᝰ

the rustling from the other side of the table takes your attention away from your laptop, taking off one earbud before asking the boy across from you what he was doing. jaehyun doesn’t turn to answer, instead continuing to dig through the various compartments of his backpack for who knows what. “you know about superfoods and stuff?”

“...yeah? what does that have to do with what we’re studying though?” you let out a soft laugh, unsure about where he’s going with this conversation. 

“well, i heard that if you eat five almonds everyday it makes you smarter. there was a study on it and everything, i swear.” you raise your eyebrow at his words, finding it hard not to roll your eyes at the ridiculous “fact” he just proposed. moments later, he’s plopping a ziploc bag full of almonds in the middle of the table, looking incredibly satisfied with himself. 

you watch as he counts five almonds for the both of you, motioning for your hand to pass your portion over. “why don’t we just eat a ton of almonds so we become geniuses?” you move to reach for the bag to grab more, before he snatches it away from you. 

“no, we can’t do that. the limit is five almonds, or else it starts reversing the effects,” jaehyun tosses an almond into the air and catches it with his mouth. “or something like that, i didn’t actually read the study.” he grins at you from his side of the table, making you laugh in disbelief before resuming your work, almonds by your side.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ taesan

personally i think taesan is the type to just. periodically check in from time to time while you’re studying

he seems like the type to focus best when he’s completely in his own space, so he wants to give you that same space (especially if he’s working on music, he doesn’t want to bother you with the noise) 

….but that doesn’t mean he’s completely ignoring you while you’re out in the living room hunched over all your papers

he’d probably ask if you wanted to do the pomodoro method with him LMFAOOO like. you do work for 50 minutes and then u get a 10 min break

it honestly helps make the work go by faster bc you’re just looking forward to your next break w/ him :,) 

when the fifty minutes is up and it’s time for both of your breaks, he’s so excited to come out of his room and just Recharge with you. simply seeing you quite literally gives him enough energy to go back to whatever he’s currently working on 

if he found you too burnt out from studying for so long, he’d make an exception to his rules & he’d let you take a longer break bc he knows how much effort you’ve been putting into prepping for your tests 

✐ᝰ

you were only halfway into your fifty-minute work interval, but taesan could sense something was wrong when he left his room to get some water. instead of taking notes like you were earlier, your pen was left abandoned on the side of your textbook as you frowned down onto the blur of words you were trying to take in. 

taesan knows how hard it is to keep working when you hit a mental roadblock– he knows how badly you need to study right now, but it’ll be no use trying to force yourself when you clearly need to step away. he peeks around the corner, clearing his throat to catch your attention. 

“hm?” you tilt your head as you look up from your notebook, frustration clearly written all over your face. it almost pains him to see you so stressed over exams. “is it time for break already? i could’ve sworn i just started–”

“maybe you just got so into it that you didn’t realize how much time passed,” he bluffs, walking up to the table. “do you want to see what i’ve been working on? i feel like i need a second opinion on it, something isn’t quite right with the melodies.” 

taesan finds it cute how your face lights up immediately; you were clearly looking for any excuse to walk away from your work, but you knew you’d feel guilty if you had no good reason to do so. since taesan really needs your help, it’s fine… right? 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ leehan 

idk something makes me feel like leehan just dgaf LOLOLOL but he’s definitely not going to bother you much unless you’re taking a break or something

i don’t think he puts too much effort into studying but he’s definitely just going to be in your general vicinity so you don’t get too lonely looking at your computer screen for so long… he’s just there in spirit

if u were in the same class & u asked him what Something Meant… he genuinely could not tell you unless it was about a topic he was actually interested in. bro just has his laptop open to feel included yk

i think he’d be the type to see you frustrated over whatever concept you can’t seem to get right & literally Make You take a break so you can clear your mind 

you didn’t realize it while you were too focused on doing work, but he’s constantly been catering to your every need so you don’t get distracted

like he made sure your water bottle was refilled every time you finished it

turned up the heat in the apartment when he noticed you shivering

opening curtains so the sun lights up your workspace n makes it less stuffy :,)

i totally see him as the type to stay up as long as you are, even if he isn’t studying with you

again. just the idea of him wanting to keep you company so you don’t feel lonely ARRGHHHHH

like maybe he’s just sitting at the table w/ you as he watches u do work (like a freako) ((I need him so bad))

even if he falls asleep in the process… at least he’s nearby in case you need him…. (he wakes up every now and then to make sure you’re doing OK) 

✐ᝰ

you can’t help but turn around when you hear all the commotion your friend (he’s in love w/ you btw) is currently making in the kitchen behind you. sensing your gaze, he looks back slowly, giving you a sheepish smile. “i know i’m being loud, but i’m doing this for you, okay?”

before you get the chance to question what he meant, he’s balancing a tray in his hands as he makes his way over to your desk. it’s adorned with anything you could possibly want during your study session– a steaming cup of tea, a plate of fresh fruit cut into cute shapes, a bag of your favorite chips, some of the gummies you two were sharing earlier, and even a bottle of painkillers for the eventual headache you’ll get from looking at the screen for too long. 

you could honestly cry; it wasn’t a grand gesture, but you’ve been so overwhelmed trying to meet all the deadlines you’d made for yourself recently that you’ve been neglecting your own needs in the process. leehan’s clearly proud of himself as he takes a seat next to you, resting his head on his palm as he watches you. “you’re not gonna study with me?” you question, popping a piece of fruit into your mouth as you look at him. after all, you did ask to study together. 

“i was kind of hoping being next to you while you reviewed would transfer all the knowledge to me.” his eyes turn to crescents as he grins at you. you guess that works too.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ riwoo

riwoo would prefer to do work specifically at home bc he likes to be comfy if he’s gonna spend a majority of the day studying

with this being said tho… he’s restless. he moves every hour bc it claims it helps him focus if he changes up his surroundings every once in a while 

def going to put on some music and maybe light some candles so you aren’t too miserable trying to learn so much content the day before the exam … he’s all for setting the vibes PERFECT for the study sesh

i like to think riwoo has like. a system he uses to keep the both of you motivated while studying (i do this. im projecting) 

like…. if you both get the next 10 practice problems right… you can share the slice of cake waiting in fridge LOL or maybe if you finish writing one more paragraph of your essay, then you can go lay in bed for seven minutes idk i think he’d be really random with it

riwoo always says that you guys are gonna take a “short” break but it usually ends up 3x longer than you intended

he’d say “maybe we should take the dogs for a walk to get a breather before getting back to work”

and then you come back 40 minutes later bc you two got distracted letting daebak and jangyi play with all the other dogs in the park T_T

he’s 100% the type to try and discreetly watch tiktok or something when you’re both supposed to be doing work and it plays on full volume (woonhak would too but he would not try to hide it)

honestly i feel like he’d get tired of his own studies at some point, but i know he’d stay with you to help you review or just to encourage you to keep going <3 

✐ᝰ

you’re welcomed with warm lighting and the sweet aroma of a seasonal candle as riwoo opens his front door, daebak in his arms and jjangyi wandering around the room behind him. it’s a familiar environment; you’ve gotten used to doing work with riwoo in the comfort of his own home, finding it much easier to focus there than any of the popular study spots on campus. 

you’re sitting at the dining table, one paragraph of your essay on the verge of completion. riwoo is sprawled across the couch, his laptop laying haphazardly on his chest as he swipes across the trackpad. “do you remember that takeout place we passed by last week? i was thinking we should order some later once we get hungry!” 

“...are you looking at the menu right now?”

“well, no…” you glance at him from your seat, clearly doubtful. “...okay, maybe i am. i can’t focus when all i can think about is how good it smelled walking by the place!” he groans, shutting his laptop and placing it on the coffee table beside him before moving to a more comfortable position on his couch. 

he’s so quiet that you almost forget he’s there when you’re locked into your essay, snapped out of your zone when he sighs dramatically, not having moved an inch since you last looked at him. you’re not sure why he’s the one in distress when he hasn’t touched his laptop in nearly forty minutes. 

“y/nnnnn…. i don’t wanna study for my classes,” you don’t have it in you to scold him, especially when he’s the one letting you work at his place to begin with, but you can’t just let him do nothing the whole time. “can you take a break so i don’t die of boredom over here?”

“okay, how about you come over here and help me proofread my paper, then we can get food once i finish?” he makes his way over to you, using his socks to slide across the wooden floors in the process, more than happy to occupy himself with something if it meant he got to hang out with you afterwards!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ woonhak

finals season with woonhak honestly seems like it would be hell LMFAOOOOOO

genuinely i think he’s the last person i’d ask to study just because i feel like procrastinator x procrastinator is a DEAD END!!!

no shade but the chances of both of you locking in at the same time are little to NONE.

trying to be accountability buddies for each other genuinely doesn’t work because. he just doesn’t want to study ☠️

bro is definitely trying to convince you that you don’t need to study (you desperately do)

and even IF…. you guys both start working…. it genuinely doesn’t last long LOLOLOL

woonhak literally cannot shut the hell up when he’s doing work for some reason. everything needs to have some sort of commentary, even if you guys aren’t even studying for the same class

if you didn’t also Need To Study, it’d be pretty funny to hear him complaining about getting every other question wrong…. and his periodic comments are NOT helping 😭

but bc of that i think he’s the most willing to stay up late with you to study just because you wasted so much time doing Who Knows What that you both feel like you need to pull an all nighter if you want to pass that test YIKES

u eventually both feel SO GUILTY bc you wasted so much time doing NOTHING productive and it’s already 11pm…. guess you have to make up for it by ACTUALLY being productive until 4am . . . .

the urgency finally kicks in and you actually ARE clocked tf in until you’re literally forced to get out of the library

✐ᝰ

the security guard working the front desk at the library gives the two of you a quizzical look as you walk through the doors at 11:37pm, whereas most of the other students tend to wrap up their studies around this time. this wasn’t out of the ordinary for you and woonhak– you knew what you were getting yourself into when you first texted him asking him if he was free to study earlier in the day. 

just a couple hours ago, the two of you were seated on the floor of his dorm, pages of notes sprawled across the carpet in a pathetic attempt to try and make a game plan for a semesters-worth of material you had to learn before the final tomorrow. it was almost laughable the way neither of you could make sense of the content in front of you. 

“how is it that we’ve gone to every lecture and we still don’t know what’s going on?” it’s a useless question, given that neither of you are capable of providing any sort of explanation. 

“have you seen that video where they rub their notes on their heads to try and send the information to your brain–”

“woonhak, you know that doesn’t actually work, right?”

“right. i just wanted to know if you saw it too. haha.” there’s an air of silence between you two as you both realize how screwed you actually are for the test, but nobody dares to speak it into existence. “should we go to the arcade before we start studying?”

…and that’s how you found yourself set up in one of the booths in the far corner of the library (obviously after wasting three hours and twenty bucks at the claw machines), the tabletop adorned with a jumbled mix of your shared review problems, scrap paper balled up in a growing pile, and two freshly-opened energy drinks.  you’re both lucky that the library doesn’t close for another couple hours, you needed all the time you could get to try and burn the information into your brains. 

when you walk out of the exam room, seeing woonhak laying on a bench outside & using his backpack as a makeshift pillow as he waits for you to finish, you can’t help at chuckle at the look of defeat on his face. it’s funny the way your eye bags match his own; you’ve definitely seen each other at your lowest at this point. 

“so…how do you think you did?”

“can we talk about this after i take a nap at your dorm for, i don’t know, three days?”

“deal.”

© lionhanie 2025 ; all rights reserved!

[pinterestanddaydreaming]

Chapter 1: A City of Timeless Beauty - Lucius Verus x Reader

Summary: Y/n is a college student in Rome majoring in Roman History and Archaeology with her friends Priya and Alaya. Her mentor offers her the opportunity of a life time, to work at a dig site that could possibly hold the ruins of a Roman emperor's palace. The excavation starts in summer and it would mean that she can not go home to spend it with her family. Will she do it?

Author's Notes: Hey everyone! I know that I have posted a collage earlier for the reader's aesthetic but this collage accompanies this chapter. I personally like to make these to also help myself visualize the things I write about. Please know that y/n does not have to look like the girls in the picture, you can visualize her in any way and form you want to. Another thing, this story will be slow burn and I have not decided what the ending is going to look like so read the series at your own risk. This is my first time writing so the quality itself may not measure up the other very talented writers in this fandom, please know I am working on it!

Warnings: None!! It's just a bunch of girls being smart and lovely! If you hate girls stay away please and thank you! 🤗🙏

The golden hour blanketed Rome in a glow that seemed to blur the line between past and present. The streets buzzed with life, and y/n strolled through them with an air of calm curiosity. Her bag was tucked under her arm, brimming with essential beauty items and notes from her class on the history of Roman politics. She allowed herself a moment to bask in the sounds of the city, the distant hum of traffic mingling with the laughter of tourists and the occasional snatches of conversation in Italian. 

Y/n looked at her wrist. She still had about forty minutes to get to the restaurant where she planned to meet Priya and Alaya for dinner after their classes. Y/n, Priya, and Alaya had grown up together in London, and their business-owner parents were more than happy to let their daughters move to Rome to pursue their passion for studying history and archaeology. 

After nearly a year in Rome with Priya and Alaya, y/n felt at home. She had become familiar with the city and she loved living here. As y/n walked, she thought about the internship offer from Professor Marino, her professor who teaches Archaeological Field Studies. Y/n has been taking the class with Priya and Alaya and they all have gotten close to Marino. She has become a mentor for y/n and she has chosen Marino to be her senior thesis advisor. She is a renowned archaeologist and has been working on finding a royal palace of a Roman emperor for the past ten years.

When y/n talked to her earlier this week, she sounded sure that she had discovered the site for a royal palace. Marino had invited her and her friends to meet her at a local café to discuss an internship opportunity.  

“You see,” Marino began, leaning forward, her cappuccino momentarily forgotten, “this isn’t just any site. I believe we’ve found the remains of the imperial palace of Emperor Lucius Verus—a palace and man we have lost to history and time.”

The warm aroma of coffee and fresh pastries enveloped the small café where Y/N, Priya, and Alaya sat with Professor Marino. The professor, a striking woman in her late forties with sharp features and an air of quiet authority, gestured animatedly as she explained the significance of her latest discovery. 

“Lucius Verus?” Priya asked, her brow furrowing slightly. “He ruled after the mad twin emperors, Geta and Caracalla, right? We don’t have a lot of material culture from the time.”

Marino nodded, a smile curling her lips. “Exactly. And that’s what makes this find so extraordinary. If we can excavate and study this site, we might find details that reshape our understanding of who this man was.” She leaned back in her chair, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “This could rewrite history, ladies.”

Alaya, who had been quietly sipping her espresso, finally spoke. “How sure are you about the location, Professor? I mean, after ten years of searching, it must feel incredible, but what evidence do you have?”

Marino smiled, clearly pleased with the question. “Preliminary scans have revealed a structure consistent with the layout described in ancient texts. We’ve also uncovered fragments of frescoes and inscriptions that point to a residence of significant importance.” She paused for effect, letting the weight of her words sink in. “But we need to confirm it. And that’s where you come in.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “You’re asking us to join the dig?”

“Not just join,” Marino said, her voice lowering as though sharing a secret. “I want you three to be part of the core team. I am not sugarcoating when I say that you three are the sharpest students I have had in a while. You are all familiar with Roman history and have taken more than enough credits on archaeological field methods. I really think you can get something out of this experience.”

The trio exchanged another glance, excitement buzzing in the air like an unspoken agreement.

Priya leaned forward, her excitement barely contained. “When would this start?”

“Summer,” Marino replied, her expression turning serious. “It’ll be a demanding schedule—early mornings, long hours under the sun, meticulous cataloging. But I promise, it will be worth it. What you learn and contribute could shape your careers.”

The discovery of a potential royal palace sounded exciting to y/n and she has loved spending her summers in Italy. But working at the dig meant postponing her return to London and spending time with her family.

As she turned a corner, a small shop caught her eye. It was sandwiched between two bustling cafés, its entrance almost hidden beneath climbing ivy. The antique shop’s name, "Eterna Treasures," was scrawled in faded gold letters above the door. Y/n hesitated, feeling an inexplicable pull toward it. Her feet seemed to move on their own, and soon she was pushing open the heavy wooden door.

Inside, the shop was dimly lit and smelled faintly of sandalwood. Shelves overflowed with curiosities: ornate goblets, faded maps, and statues worn smooth with age. Behind the counter stood a woman who could only be described as eccentric. Her gray curls were untamed, her dark eyes sharp and knowing, and she wore a patterned shawl draped over her shoulders like a queen surveying her domain.

“Ah, there you are,” the woman said, her lips curling into a sly smile.

Y/n blinked. “Sorry, do I know you?”

The woman waved her hand dismissively. “Not yet. But I know you.”

Y/n laughed awkwardly, taking a small step back toward the door. “That’s… not creepy at all.”

The woman chuckled, a rich sound that filled the tiny shop. “Oh, child, don’t be afraid. I simply have an eye for people, and you, my dear, are no ordinary girl.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Is that so?”

The woman leaned forward, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “You have the face of someone out of place. A beauty so timeless it doesn’t belong in this world. No, you belong in another time. A time when Rome wasn’t just ruins but the beating heart of an empire.”

Y/n tilted her head, unsure whether to laugh or feel unnerved. “Well, I do study history. Maybe you’re picking up on that.”

The woman ignored her, her gaze seeming to pierce straight through y/n. “Such eyes… deep as the Tiber itself. They’ve seen more than you know. And you have a dimple!—ah, men would have crossed oceans for a smile like that. Some might still.” She sighed theatrically. “You could change history, my dear. Bring a man to his knees.”

Y/n stared, caught somewhere between discomfort and fascination. “Okay… that’s very poetic and all, but I’m just a history student. No one is crossing oceans for me.”

The woman snapped her fingers suddenly, her tone shifting to something brisk and businesslike. “Well, never mind all that! Let me show you something.”

She disappeared behind the counter, rummaging through a glass display case. When she resurfaced, she held a small velvet box containing a gold ring and a matching necklace, each adorned with a ruby so vivid it seemed to glow from within.

“These,” the woman declared, her earlier intensity replaced with a saleswoman’s enthusiasm. “These are perfect for you. Look at the craftsmanship! Ancient, regal, and absolutely meant to be yours.”

Y/n hesitated, eyeing the jewelry warily. “They’re beautiful, but I wasn’t really planning to buy anything…”

The woman scoffed, thrusting the box toward y/n. “Nonsense! Try them on. You’ll see.”

Y/n sighed and picked up the ring, slipping it onto her finger. It fit perfectly, the ruby catching the faint light and gleaming like fire. The necklace felt cool and strangely heavy as she clasped it around her neck.

The woman clapped her hands, her grin widening. “See? They were made for you. A perfect match.”

“They’re… nice,” y/n admitted, still unsure. “But I’m not sure I need them.”

“Need?” The woman leaned closer, her voice dropping back into its earlier, cryptic tone. “They aren’t about need. They’re about destiny. Some things find you, not the other way around.”

Y/n frowned. “You’re really good at making this sound ominous, you know that?”

The woman only laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Ominous? Perhaps. But it's true.”

With a resigned smile, y/n pulled out her wallet. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt compelled to buy the set. Maybe it was the allure of the pieces themselves, or maybe it was the woman’s strange, magnetic energy.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the small bag the woman handed her.

“May they bring you fortune,” the woman replied, her voice soft and enigmatic. As y/n turned to leave, the woman added, almost as an afterthought, “And perhaps… a bit of the past.” 

Y/n paused at the door, glancing back at the woman, who was now humming to herself as she rearranged trinkets on a nearby shelf. Shaking her head, she stepped back into the bustling streets of Rome.

The city was glowing in the last light of day, but y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. The ruby ring felt warm on her finger, and the necklace rested against her chest like a weight she hadn’t noticed before.

Maybe the eccentric woman was right. This wasn’t just simple jewelry.

End of Chapter 1

tags - @bad-grammer

I don't have an official taglist yet! But I can create one if you guys would like, please don't hesitate to reach out to me and let me know if you would like me to either create one or just tag you in the next chapter!

[gingiesworld]

I Know I’m Not Your Everything (Drabble)

Natasha Romanoff X GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst

18+ MINORS DNI

At the beginning, both Y/N and Natasha were in love, well so it seemed. As Y/N’s feelings grew, their doubts grew silently within. Over the years of them being together, dates became very few, hardly any time spent together. Y/N could feel Natasha pulling away, further and further away as time went on. Although the two had extremely demanding roles within the Avengers, Y/N still made time and effort to try and make their relationship work, with every beat of their heart, it ached, it pained them to realise what was truly happening. So they decided one day, after they returned from a mission, to talk to Natasha.

“Hey.” Nat smiled slightly as Y/N entered their bedroom. “I didn’t know you were coming home today.”

“Yeah, well we completed the mission.” They told her, no emotion within their voice.

“Are you okay?” She questioned, sitting up on the bed.

“I honestly don’t know.” They chuckled as they moved towards the closet, getting themselves some clothes for a shower.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She questioned as Y/N sighed, taking a deep breath before placing their clean clothes on the bed neatly.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately.” They started as they remained on their feet, their heart beat racing in their chest. “About us.”

“What about us?” Nat questioned.

“You know that you’re my everything.” They told her barely above a whisper. “And it’s got me thinking over the past couple of years, it’s only me who’s making an effort, I’m always the one organising our dates, asking you on a date. But I.” They rubbed their brow nervously. “I can see more than just that, the lack of dates. There’s so much more, we barely talk to each other unless I start the conversation, but the few moments when you start the conversation, it feels like you get bored before it’s already begun.” Nat listened to their every word before trying to find the words.

“I.” She started before Y/N shook their head.

“I’m not stupid Natasha.” They told her. “I can feel it, I can feel you pulling away. You tell me that you love me, that you’ll always need me, but it’s like you’re just saying that to save face.”

“I do love you.” Nat spoke up, her voice low.

“You say that you love me, but you don’t.” Y/N’s shoulders slumped as they spoke. “Not really, not like I love you. I would do anything for you, whenever you needed me to, and you know that. You know exactly how I feel, and you know I fell hard when I fell for you. I did, you are my everything. The one person who I thought would always be here for me, despite everyone else always leaving me, I thought that you wouldn’t be like them.”

“I’m not like them, I’m still here.” She tried as she got to her feet.

“You’re not really.” Y/N yelled, running their hands down their face. “When was the last time we both had a deep conversation? Not about work or any of the others, something that we only feel comfortable with telling each other.” Nat tried to find the answer, her mind running in circles as Y/N soon broke her thoughts. “You’re my everything, you have been since the moment I was sure about my feelings.” They told her, tears welling up in their own eyes at the thought of their next words, soon taking a shaky breath before continuing. “But, I know I’m not your everything.”

“Y/N.” She tried as she watched them grab their clothes from the bed. “I.” Y/N remained in their spot, waiting for her to speak.

“It’s okay.” They told her, looking in her eyes. “I just, I thought you were the one for me.” They chuckled dryly. “No, I know you are the one for me, but I know I’m not the one for you.” With that they left the room, their clothes in hand as they headed towards their old room, leaving Natasha stood frozen, lost in her thoughts at what had just happened.

Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

[rook-laidir]

Random Banter!

Enjoy some banter I made up for Rook and the rest of the party!

~~~

Lucanis: Your employers, why are they called the Lords of Fortune?

Rook: They’re not exactly my employers anymore. You know now that I think about it, I don’t think they were ever really my employers.

Lucanis: You performed contracts for them.

Rook: Not really. We kinda just worked together. One of us gets a tip on a sunken ruin or an old legend worth looking into, and a bunch of us would investigate.

Lucanis: Were you compensated for this?

Rook: Kinda? If we found something, we could usually keep whatever we could carry.

Lucanis: Mierda. My contract negotiator would like a word with all of you.

~~~

Rook: Gold and glory.

Lucanis: Hm?

Rook: You asked why we’re called the Lords of Fortune. We’re after gold and glory.

Lucanis: Lords don’t always have glory. Gold, usually, but rarely glory.

Rook: I didn’t name the group.

Lucanis: So which are you looking for? Gold or glory?

Rook: Right now, a bath and a warm bed.

~~~

Rook: Hey, Spite! 10 gold says I kill more than you next fight.

Lucanis: Don’t encourage him.

Spite: It. Is. Done.

Lucanis: This is only going to come out of my coin purse.

Rook: Awww you already know I’ll win!

~~~

Harding: There’s no way you won.

Rook: You’re still mad about Wicked Grace?

Harding: You cheated! I know you cheated!

Rook: The cards don’t lie, Harding.

Harding: The cards don’t, but you do.

~~~

Rook: You’re taking requests for dinner, right?

Bellara: Oh, yes! I can’t promise it’ll come out the way you want it to, but I can find some recipes. What were you thinking?

Rook: There was this chocolate cake with some kind of raspberry sauce that I bought from a bakery in Rivain once. Haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

Bellara: I can do that! But I don’t think cake really counts as dinner.

Rook: It’s dinner if it’s during dinner time!

~~~

Taash: How come Isabela let you back in?

Rook: I was never “kicked out,” really, I just…was invited to help out Varric for a bit.

Taash: That’s getting kicked out.

Rook: It was politics. And she would’ve done the same thing.

~~~

Taash: Does Isabela know?

Rook: Know what?

Taash: That you have a crush on her?

Rook: What? I don’t-

Taash: I can smell it.

Rook: That’s…It’s not…

Taash: Relax, everyone has a crush on Isabela.

Rook: Had. I *had* a crush on Isabela. I was ten. And yes, she knows. Still hasn’t let me live that one down.

[taehyungsgrowl]

birthday cake

hi! it is one of my best friends birthday today (happy birthday, reyna ily) and so here is a little yoongi birthday fic 🩷

in which yoongi decides to make a cake for his gf…

just blushy yoongi. fluff. slightly suggestive. no smut!

Yoongi found himself standing in the middle of his tiny kitchen, apron tied around his waist, frantically flipping through a baking book. He hadn’t baked in God knows how long, but today was different—today was Y/N's birthday, and he was determined to surprise her with the perfect cake.

He glanced at the clock, nodding to himself—plenty of time before she’d be back. No need to worry. After all, how hard could making a birthday cake be?

He regretted those thoughts instantly, rushing the first layer of cake back to the counter—if you could call it rushing. The kitchen was a disaster: eggshells scattered like confetti, flour dusting every surface (mixing in with the few strands of gray that nestled between his black hair), half-used sticks of butter, and sugar in places sugar should never be. "Ah, ah, ah..." His fingers danced under the baking tray, trying to avoid the heat, even through his thick baking mitts.

He shoved everything he could into the sink, trying to make room for the first cake layer. This couldn’t be the only way to do it—he had to have missed a step. What do you mean he had to repeat the whole process for the second layer? He muttered curses under his breath. Why hadn’t he thought to grab a second pan? Now he’d have to clear the one he was using, then make the frosting, decorate the cake, clean up, decorate the house, and still somehow look presentable. Where had the time gone? Y/N would be home any minute, and the kitchen looked like a war zone—with no cake in sight.

Yoongi's phone vibrated in his back pocket, taking him out of his zone. Her face flashed on his screen from the incoming call. Panic started to set it. She'd have to be on her way if she was calling! He tried to get it together and answered the call. "Hi honey," she could hear the smile in his voice, "Happy Birthday."

"Yoongi, you've already wished me a happy birthday," she laughed, adjusting the tote bag on her shoulder as she walked down the street.

Yoongi’s phone was wedged between his shoulder and neck, his head tilted just enough to keep it in place. His hands were busy, stirring the cake mixture as he tried to work the clumps out. "Yeah, I know I already said it, but I mean it. I want you to have the happiest day—every day, really. How was lunch with your sister?" He was proud of how carefree he could sound despite the anxiety this cake was giving him.

"Great! I'm actually calling you to tell you that she's taking me to go pick out my gift so I'll be back at a little later than expected -"

"He'll be fineee," he heard Y/N's sister whine in the background.

"Tell her I say hello too," he chuckled, "And not to keep you too late -she has to share." He couldn't stop the pout from forming on his lips, but he was also started making a mental list of ways he could thank Y/N's sister for buying him time. It was gonna be okay!

He quickly resumed his work, moving through the kitchen at the speed of light (or so it felt - but he had to keep stopping to check the instructions and recipe).

Yoongi carefully tried to lift the first cake layer, hoping he could slide it onto the cooling rack without incident. But as he moved it, the spatula slipped, and the edge of the cake tipped over the side. The layer landed with a soft thud on the counter, its corner now crumpled and slightly bent.

“C’mon, don’t fall apart now,” he muttered, his heart rate picking up. He gently tried to lift the cake, but the soft edges were starting to crumble under his touch.

With a frustrated sigh, he quickly steadied the layer, praying it wouldn’t collapse entirely. The last thing he needed was for this to fall apart before he even got to the frosting.

He glanced nervously at the clock—Y/N would be home soon, and this wasn’t exactly the picture of a perfect cake. "This is fine," he told himself, wiping his hands on his apron. “It’s fine. I’ll fix it.”

He gently placed the cake back on the rack, willing the crumbling edges to hold. It wasn’t perfect, but it was salvageable. At least, he hoped it was. Frosting fixes everything, right?

After more work, Yoongi stepped back and looked at the scene with a small, exhausted sigh. The cake wasn’t perfect, but it was finished—mostly intact and topped with a layer of frosting that, while not “artistic,” at least covered the obvious flaws. He gave a quick glance at the clock again. Y/N would be home soon!

He quickly grabbed a rag, scrubbing down the surfaces, and tossing used utensils into the sink. He kept glancing over at the cake, praying that it would stay intact for a few more minutes. It wasn’t perfect, but he was determined to make it look like he had it all together.

His mind was already racing to the next task. The house. He had to make it look less like a disaster and more like a cozy birthday surprise. Yoongi hurried through the living room, straightening the pillows on the couch and turning on her favorite candle. He didn’t have time for perfection, but he could at least make the place feel welcoming. He placed the happy birthday banner up on the wall. The fresh bouquet of flowers gently placed in a vase. It was all coming along!

The door opened just as Yoongi finished adjusting the last of the decorations. His heart skipped a beat, and he quickly wiped his hands on the apron, glancing around the living room one last time to make sure everything was in place. It wasn’t perfect—there were still a few flour smudges on the counter, and he hadn't quite managed to get the place spotless—but it would have to do.

He opened the door with a wide grin, his eyes lighting up as he saw Y/N standing there her face lighting up when she spotted him.

“Happy birthday!” he exclaimed, his voice a little too loud, a little too eager. The words came out with so much enthusiasm, but that was fine—he was just relieved she was finally home.

Y/N smiled back at him, her eyes softening in that way they always did when she looked at him. "You didn’t have to do all this," she said, looking at the decorations and then back at him. "It looks amazing."

Yoongi’s heart fluttered at the compliment, but before he could say anything more, Y/N’s eyes flickered down, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Uh… Yoongi,” she started, her gaze narrowing in on the corner of his mouth. “I think you missed a spot.” She reached up and gently wiped her thumb across his lip, picking up a small smudge of chocolate frosting that he hadn’t noticed. Without missing a beat, placed the thumb in her mouth sucking it clean, slow and deliberate.

Yoongi’s face went red as he stepped back, blinking in surprise. "What? Oh," he chuckled, his voice soft as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I, uh... might’ve taste-tested the cake. Can’t risk it being too sweet, right?”

Yoongi’s gaze flickered to her thumb, then back to her, his breath catching in his throat. He was blushing so hard he could feel the heat creeping up to his ears.

He flashed her a sheepish smile, still standing in the doorway in his apron, realizing only now how ridiculous he must look. “I kind of got caught up in... well, the cake... and, uh, decorating…” He gestured vaguely to the living room. “You know, the usual birthday chaos.”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound light and warm. She stepped inside, giving him a playful shove. "You're adorable," she teased, brushing past him to take in the rest of the room. “But seriously, you didn’t have to go all out like this. I’m happy just being with you.”

Yoongi felt a swell of warmth in his chest as he closed the door behind her. “I wanted it to be special,” he said quietly, his gaze softening as he watched her smile.

“Don’t worry, it is,” she said, glancing over her shoulder with a wink. "Though, I might have to help you with that messy kitchen... and maybe some other things later."

Yoongi followed her into the kitchen and he nervously glanced at the cake, still standing in the kitchen with his hands behind his back. He couldn’t stop the blush creeping up his neck. "Uh, so..." He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. "I, uh, made this for you."

He turned around slowly to reveal the cake—lopsided but covered in a thick, uneven layer of frosting, and sprinkled with a few hastily placed decorative touches. It wasn’t perfect, but it was definitely made with care.

Y/N smiled warmly, her eyes softening as she looked at the cake. "Wow, you really did this all yourself?" she asked, genuinely impressed. She leaned in closer, taking in the little imperfections with a fond smile. "I love it. It’s perfect."

Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, looking anywhere but at her as his heart raced. "I, uh, wanted it to be special. I know it’s not... fancy, but I—"

Before he could finish, Y/N leaned in, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Don’t worry," she said, her voice soft as she reached for the cake. "I think it’s perfect."

Without another word, she dipped her finger into the frosting and brought it to her mouth, licking it off slowly, savoring the taste. Yoongi’s breath hitched as he watched her, his pulse spiking. He tried to look away, but his gaze was glued to her finger and the way she cleaned it off, her eyes meeting his for just a second.

The warmth in his chest spread to his cheeks, and he immediately turned his head to hide the flush on his face. “Did you... like it?” he asked, his voice low. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest like it was about to leap out of his ribcage.

Y/N, still holding her finger to her lips, smiled coyly. “Mm, I do. It’s... sweet.” She licked her lips slowly, her gaze playful. “I think I’ll need more of this.”

Yoongi swallowed hard, the heat in his face intensifying. He opened his mouth to say something, but his brain couldn’t quite catch up with his racing thoughts. Instead, he just stammered, “Happy birthday, by the way…”

She let out a small giggle, stepping closer to him.

“Mm, the cake is really yummy," Y/N said with a smile, wiping a little frosting off her lips as her eyes locked with his. The look was gentle, but there was something in it—something more—something Yoongi recognized.

He stepped closer, the space between them narrowing. “I’m glad you like it," he murmured, his voice low. His hand reached for hers, fingers brushing her skin lightly.

Y/N’s thumb traced the back of his hand, the light touch sending warmth up his arm. She didn’t say anything more, but the silence between them was heavy with everything they’d been feeling in that moment. She was close and yet it wasn’t enough. Yoongi could feel his breath hitch as he gazed at her, his fingers tightening around hers just a little.

"Y/N," he breathed out, his voice soft but full of meaning. She didn’t pull back. Instead, she gave him a look that made his stomach flip, and the distance between them was gone.

He leaned in, his lips finding hers with a familiarity that made his heart race even more. It wasn’t tentative or hesitant. It was the kind of kiss they shared when there was nothing else in the world but the two of them. Yoongi’s hand cradled the side of her face, his thumb gently brushing her cheek as he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer.

Y/N’s arms slid around his neck, her fingers threading into his hair, her body pressing into his. Yoongi’s chest tightened with the simple pleasure of having her so close, so warm. They kissed slowly, savoring the closeness, the sweetness of the moment. His tongue parted her lips as he deepened the kiss. He could taste the chocolate off her tongue.

Yoongi smiled as he heard her gasp against his kiss. He swallowed her sounds, his fingers gripping her hair.

Y/N's senses were everywhere. The sweet scent of the kitchen filling her nose, Yoongi's tongue tracing patterns as he kissed her, her fingers tangled in his hair.

She could feel him smirk as she gripped his hair and Yoongi made a mental note to keep his long length just a little longer (if it were up to Y/N, he knows he wouldn't be getting his hair cut any time soon).

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together as they caught their breath. Yoongi smiled softly, his fingers still tangled in her hair.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice a little raspier than usual.

She smiled back, her eyes sparkling with affection. “Thank you, Yoongi," she said, brushing her lips lightly against his. "Best gift ever.”

Everything just felt right. It was simple—just them, the cake, and this little piece of happiness they’d carved out together.

[ultravjiolencee]

Can i request a fred weasley with maybe a reader from black family that doesn’t really like christmas? thank u so much!! (they’re not relatives and kinda in a relationship)

Weasley Warmth Delivery

a.n! thanks for requesting and sorry if this took me this long, but to be honest i still feel into christmas mood. i tried this new ‘format’ of exchanging letters! mention of my previous work

Dear y/n,

Well, look at that—a letter from Black. To what do I owe this honor? Boredom finally driving you mad in that haunted house of yours? Don’t worry, love, I’ve been expecting it.

Grimmauld Place isn’t exactly the Ministry of Fun, is it? And without me around to liven up the place, well, I’m amazed you lasted this long before reaching out.

First, let me set the scene for you here at the Burrow: total chaos, as usual. Mum’s been running around like a bludger on a sugar high, barking orders about decorating and cleaning things that were perfectly fine before she started. Ginny keeps nicking the fairy lights off the tree to “improve” her room (I think she’s trying to charm them to spell out something rude for Ron), and Percy’s been giving us all his patented look of disapproval. Honestly, I think he was born with that expression.

George and I, naturally, have been hard at work testing a few of our newest products. Let’s just say the garden gnomes had a very eventful morning and leave it at that.

But, enough about the Burrow, it’s too normal compared to what I’m imagining for you. I bet Grimmauld Place is a real barrel of laughs this time of year. Bet you’ve got Kreacher croaking out festive insults like, “Filthy blood traitor scum don’t deserve gingerbread.” Or maybe you’ve charmed those gloomy curtains shut tight so you don’t have to look at your delightful family tree. Is my name still scorched off that thing, by the way? If not, I’ll send George over to fix that. It’s our legacy, after all.

I wish I could say I don’t worry about you being there all by yourself, but you know me—I don’t do lying very well. (Or at all, according to mum. But then again, she doesn’t always appreciate my particular brand of honesty.) You’ve got that whole independent, “I don’t need anyone’s help” thing going on, and I get it. I do. But I can’t help wishing you’d pop over to the Burrow for Christmas. Mum would adore you, I promise. Well, she’d probably scold you for being “too thin” first, but that’s just part of the package deal. Once she’s fed you a month’s worth of food in two days, she’ll be absolutely besotted.

And before you go claiming I’m trying to recruit you to our family, let me clarify: yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Because family doesn’t have to be the lot you were born with.

You’ve got us now, whether you like it or not.

Now, enough of this sappy nonsense. You’ll start thinking I’m losing my edge. Let’s talk about important things—like me. Did I mention George and I managed to sneak a prototype of our newest invention past Mum? It’s called the “Crackling Cauldron Cake,” and it’s exactly as dangerous as it sounds. You bite into it, and it pops like a small Firework Charm in your mouth. George claims it’s “too risky for mass production,” but I say he’s lost his Gryffindor nerve. (He was almost a Hufflepuff, you know. Don’t tell him I told you that.)

Oh, and speaking of risky ventures—have you heard from the “adorable” bunch at Hogwarts? Lee says everyone’s still whispering about us switching ties that morning. Apparently, there’s now a theory that we were secretly meeting in the Forbidden Forest for mysterious reasons. Honestly, they’re creative. I’ll give them that. Maybe we should encourage the rumors. Keep them on their toes, you know?

Alright, I should wrap this up before the owl starts biting me again. (Did you train this thing to attack, or is that just a natural Black family trait?) But seriously, don’t be a stranger. Owl me again, even if it’s just to complain about how miserable it is without me around. I’ll write back—promise. And if you’re feeling really brave, you’re always welcome here. I’ll even let you beat me at Wizard’s Chess again, just to keep things festive.

Take care of yourself, alright? And if Grimmauld Place starts feeling too cold, just think of this letter as a little Weasley warmth delivered right to your doorstep.

Yours (because I’ve decided you’re mine to pester now),

Fred

P.S. If you don’t write back soon, I’m sending George over to prank your front door. You’ve been warned ;)