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despressoslatte · 3 days ago

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not the zoey you wanted (three)

pairing: zach maclaren x female reader!

summary: you waited all weekend for your boyfriend, Zach, to call or text, anything, to explain why he had just went and ghosted you when you were supposed to go with him on a family ski trip to meet his parents, his sister Avery, and his cousin, Miles.

content warnings: angst; victims of catfishing; miscommunication trope

masterlist | < two

⟢a/n: if you want me to add you to the taglist for this fic, add yourself to this form: taglist

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When you get back to your on-campus apartment, you went straight into your room to take down the photos you had up of you and Zach, pulling a random old shipping box out from your recycled area to shove things into.

The drive back to campus was pretty smooth. You blasted Gracie Abrams and Maisie Peters on repeat, and your mind went into autopilot.

So, Zoey Miller was his girlfriend. That was pretty rich, considering you didn’t even realize when you stopped being his girlfriend. Didn’t even realize a guy as soft as Zach MacLaren had a mean bone in his body to be able to do something like this to you. You went to his house that morning half ready to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe something came up, maybe he lost his phone, maybe last minute his parents decided for it to be a family-only trip and took his phone from him in the name of “reconnecting with nature” and so he was never given the chance to inform you.

But then his mother said those words, she said that Zoey Miller was Zach’s girlfriend.

You had pulled most of his sweaters that you’d had from your closet, throwing them into the box, by the time there was obnoxiously loud knocking at your front door. You had no plans, no one who was supposed to be coming over, so you paused for a moment to see if maybe your roommate, Bree, was home or not. When you didn’t hear any movement from her side of the apartment and the knocking persisted, you let out a frustrated sigh, walking over to the peephole.

You rolled your eyes at the sight of him. What, he felt bad that he got caught and drove himself all the way back to school to finally have that talk with you in person. Between the few moments it took for you to open the door, your mind raced with all the different cliche breakup lines he could give you.

“I’m sorry, I just wasn’t feeling the spark between us anymore.”

“Let me explain…”

“I didn’t mean for this to be how you found out.”

“It’s not what it looks like.” Yeah, as if his mother confirming that Zoey Miller was Zach’s girlfriend wasn’t exactly what it looked like.

And more and more, until you finally wrapped your hand around the doorknob, unlocking the top latch, and swinging it open to look at him. He towered over you, guilt etched into his face and a small cut on his lip where you could only imagine he had bit over and over as he contemplated how to let you down softly on his ride over.

You peered out into the hallway, half expecting Zoey Miller to be outside, looking at you with those same eyes of remorse, but you only saw Zach’s luggage by your door and redness under his blue eyes.

“What?” you asked, your voice coming out in a hushed, annoyed whisper, holding the door open just enough so that he can see you.

“Let me explain,” he pleaded, his voice raspy. So, we were going with the scripted breakup line number 2.

He paused for a second, but when he saw that you weren’t going to step back to let him inside of your apartment, he locked eyes with you. One thing about Zach MacLaren? He was very good at making intense eye contact. He licked his lips and sighed, as if searching for what else to say with his excuse.

As you waited for his lips to continue moving, you thought of what he could say next.

“...it just sort of happened.”

“...I didn’t mean to fall for her.”

“...can we stay friends?”

But instead, what came out of his mouth was, “I got hit by a car.”

Your annoyed facial expressions dropped into a confused one, squinting at him in reaction to his words. Your chin moved closer to your neck as your head moved backwards in confusion. Your lips curled upwards, not in a smile, but in a bewildered grimace.

“I’m sorry, you got what by a what?” you asked, baffled.

He was staring back at you, so so so serious. He pulled a folded up paper out of his pocket, holding it out in your direction.

“My after visit summary from the emergency room on Friday,” he mumbled.

He got hit by a car on Friday? you thought to yourself, wondering how he was going to use his, “I got hit by a car” as reasoning for taking another girl as his girlfriend to a family ski trip that he had invited you on, first.

“Patient Zachary MacLaren is a 21 year old male who was brought in after a collision of a moving car with his bicycle occurred. At onset, he did lose consciousness for a few minutes, before regaining consciousness before the paramedics arrived. No sprains or broken limbs or joints have been sustained in the incident. Patient has some swelling to the left side of his skull. Tests and examinations are concurrent with a diagnosis of a concussion and anterograde amnesia.”

Anterograde amnesia, you learned that in one of her psychology courses last semester. Short term memory loss.

“Are you telling me you have amnesia?” you asked him, holding the paper up after you’re done reading it.

“Yes—No, had. I had amnesia,” he stuttered out while nodding his head.

“So you don’t have amnesia right now?” you asked to clarify.

He shook his head and rounded his lips in a pucker and put his hands behind his back, swaying a little. “No amnesia right now.”

You blink a few times, still lost on what and how this was connecting to him bringing a different girlfriend on his family ski trip.

“And did this amnesia make you lose your goddamn mind and bring some random girl with you to a ski trip?” you asked, trying to find the connection here.

Though, you do feel really bad he got hit by a freaking car, and then he got amnesia, that sucks. You wished you had been there to help him with that.

“No, no, see, what had happened,” he started to explain, putting his hands out to grab onto your upper arms and crouch a little down to your level so he could stare you in the eyes again. “I thought she was you.”

“Excuse me?”

He licked his lips, turning his head to the side as if to say, “I know.” He sighed and continued with his story, “After I got hit with the car, she was there.”

“Zoey was there with you when you got hit by this car? Why was Zoey with you?” you questioned.

“She works at the bookstore.”

“The bookstore,” you repeat after him with a nod, trying to keep track of all the different ways this story was branching out. “The one with the book on Battletoads.”

“Well, no,” he shook his head. “I had to get her to order me a book on Battletoads for Idiots because they didn’t have any in stock.” Then, he shook his head again when he realized you two were getting off track. He let go over her, using his hands to motion around and talk. “Point is, I left my credit card.” He points to his side to emphasize leaving his credit card. “She came outside to give it to me, I turned around to look at her,” and he mimicked how he looked at her, peering over his shoulder. “And a car didn’t see me, I didn’t see the car,” he pointed to himself and then down, before making a hitting motion with his palm, “and bam! I go flying onto the pavement.”

You’re just nodding along with his entire story, waiting for him to finally give you that missing puzzle piece that could make it all make sense.

“And then when I woke up, she was there crouching in front of me. My brain was all mushy,” he made circular motions around his head. “And I knew her name was Zoey, and I somehow could remember that I called you Zoey a few times… and I… uh…” he looked more sheepish as he got to this part of the story. “In my moment of anterograde amnesia—that means short term memory loss by the way—”

“I know,” you said, and if this was any other time, you may have laughed at the way he over pronounced “anterograde amnesia” and looked so proud of himself for knowing the term, a small smile on his face.

“—I may have thought she was.. you,” he trailed off as he said this part, looking guilty. “I just… I don’t know how,” he put his hands up and them down in exasperation, practically breathing out his words. “I don’t know how I thought she was you, baby, I don’t. But then you came to my parents’ house, and I saw you drive away, and it all… I knew she wasn’t you.”

You just nod as you process the information. This sounded like some cheaply made romance plot, that one look at you and his amnesia would wear off. There was a lot of information processing that was happening at this point.

You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of footsteps, seeing a group of girls walking through the hallway, some of your various neighbors. They looked over at you and Zach, and you knew how this looked. The serious look on your face, the luggage, the pleading one on his. They probably thought they were watching a breakup between a tutor girl and the college’s soccer star.

You opened the door wider, not wanting anyone to somehow overhear the conversation. You stepped aside for him. “Come in.”

He smiled, hopeful, and rolled his luggage and walked himself into your apartment.

You two went straight for the kitchen, him just following you as you said nothing back to his explanation. You went straight to the coffee machine, and as you brewed yourself some espresso, Zach went to your fridge, pulling out the creamer he knew was yours and not your roommates, you know, since he didn’t have amnesia anymore.

You stood there in silence for a little while, leaning against the kitchen counter as you sipped your latte, having made one for him after yours.

“So… you thought she was me…” you finally talk, and he’s standing across from you with a guilty nod. “Do we really look alike?”

“No! No! You’re like… a superstar, and she’s… not you,” he said with a nervous laugh, unable to insult Zoey Miller just to bring you up.

And that was fine with you. You didn’t need or want him insulting her. Just wanted to know if you two looked similar enough that he could mix you guys up in an amnesia concussion haze.

“So it was just because her first name is also my middle name?” you questioned.

“I know, it sounds stupid, I don’t… I don’t really know how to explain it.”

You nodded your lips forming a line.

“So… she just… pretended to be me?” you questioned, thinking about how insane that sounded. “For what? Revenge for hitting her in the end with that soccer ball?”

He laughed at your questions, the way you sounded so irritated at not being able to understand Zoey Miller.

You continued with your little rant, “I mean, I heard that girl is anti-romantic, so what? Did she have some secret crush on you or something? Had to strike while I wasn’t around, and you didn’t know any better?”

“She had a crush on Miles, actually,” he said with raised eyebrows. “Kissed him in the pool while I was sleeping and everything.”

Your eyes widened, and you let out an unbelievable laugh.

“And Miles just… let her? Thinking she was you girlfriend? And wait, what about Emily?” you asked, putting the cup down on the counter. Loving Zach was knowing about all of the people he loved, too, which meant knowing his cousin Miles was dating a nice girl named Emily. “Sorry, but your cousin’s an asshole! Cheating on her with the girl he thought was cheating on you while she was pretending to be me!”

Your voice kept raising as you got riled up on his behalf, and he couldn’t help but let a small smile stay on his face because of it.

The more information you got, the more insane this whole story sounded. But he smiled at your reaction, the way your facial features were showing less and less that you were mad at him. He really hoped you weren’t mad at him.

“Apparently, they’re poly.”

“Doesn’t mean you are,” you retort back, walking to where he was to stand next to him.

You let out a deep exhale, leaning your head against his arm as you two stood against the kitchen island.

“It felt wrong, the entire time,” he said softly, squatting down a little bit so he could lean his head on top of yours as well. “Like I knew deep down she didn’t really like me. Like she didn’t even know me, and that I didn’t really know her. She said she was a computer science major and that made no sense to me, since we met because you were my English tutor. She had all these hobbies I don’t remember you ever liking. Wouldn’t let me hold her hand, spent most of her time with Miles instead of me since they could go out on the slopes and I couldn’t because, ya know, mushy brains,” he sighed. “And then, she found out about Emily and got mad at him. Then, she finally spent the day with me.”

Despite being upset that some other girl went on the MacLaren ski trip instead of you, you couldn’t help but feel bad that Zach spent the entire weekend with an inkling feeling that his girlfriend—or who he thought was his girlfriend—didn’t even like him.

He keeps talking, just expressing how the weekend felt and how things had gone.

“And it was sad coming back, you know?” he sighed. “I mean, I spent all of yesterday thinking I was having so much fun re-getting to know her, feeling like we were finally having a connection, feeling really good about it… just for it all to be a lie.”

You frowned and took your head off of his arm, making him move straight as well.

“You felt like you and Zoey had a connection?” you asked softly.

His face contorted in concern at his misstep.

“Wha—No. No, baby, no,” he moved to turn in front of you, his arms going to hold yours. “It wasn’t real. It’s not real.”

“But a part of you really liked getting to spend time with her,” you point out softly, looking away. “So much so that it was disappointing when you came home and it was… me that’s your girlfriend, and not her.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Zach said softly, shaking his head, trying to lead down closer to you to get you to look at him. “I’m not disappointed that I came home and there was you.”

“But you were disappointed that your weekend with Zoey was built on a fake premise,” you said back. “And not entirely because she lied to you, but because you felt a connection to her.”

“No!”

“Zach.”

“Okay, fine, yes. I admit that I was… feeling something towards her on this trip, but baby, I thought she was my girlfriend.”

“So, you’d date her?” you hated yourself for somehow twisting it the way you were, but a part of you was just hurt that this happened, hurt to know he spent the weekend falling for someone else, regardless of why and how. “In a different world where I don’t exist to you, you’d fall for her. Because you did. This weekend.”

A permanent frown etched into his face at your words.

“But you do exist in this world,” he whispered, pleading.

“Did you kiss her?”

It’s not fair, you know it’s not fair to be jealous or upset. Zoey practically catfished and scammed and lied and pretended to be someone she wasn’t. But she didn’t pretend to be you in the sense of your personality. Zach said it himself, she sounded so unlike you, with a different major, different personality, different hobbies. And despite that, he liked her.

“I thought she was you,” he reiterated, saying “yes” to your question without the word itself.

“You thought she was your girlfriend, not that she was me,” you denied, shaking your head and moving from your spot trapped between Zach and the kitchen island.

The pleading in his eyes could haunt you.

“You didn’t think she was me personally. You just thought you were with her. And you liked being with her, for her personality and her hobbies and just her,” you said softly.

Every part of you was screaming at you to take your words back, to stop yourself from talking. You knew it was irrational to be upset at him for something he had no control over. He had amnesia for crying out loud. But there was no rationalizing this situation.

There was no rulebook telling you how to react and respond to finding out some girl pretended to be your amnesia patient of a boyfriend’s girlfriend. There was no guide on how to take in and process him openly admitting that while she was so drastically different from you, he was starting to really like her.

“I’m sorry this happened, Zach,” you said softly, your bottom lip wobbling. “It’s not fair, and it really really sucks.”

He just stared at you, tears forming in his eyes as if he knew what you were about to say. His chin wobbled, and it pushed you over the edge, too. A string of tears fell from your own eyes.

“But I’m really hurt right now, and I don’t mean to be upset with you because I know… I know it’s not your fault. I know you didn’t mean for this to happen,” you admit, wiping your tears on the back of your wrists.

He steps forward to try and comfort you. You step back.

“But I need time to…” you suck in a breathe and lick your lips as you try to figure out what it was that you needed from him. “I need time to process this all… process that you were starting to fall for someone else.”

“Baby…” he begged you not to do this with one single word.

“Please,” you pleaded back. “Just… please.”

And how could he deny you, the one he loved so much, the one thing you were asking of him right now?

“Okay,” he whispered and nodded, a singular tear falling down his face as he forced himself to listen to you.

And that look on his face really felt like it could haunt you.

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four >

a/n: so i realized i have messed up the movie’s timeline, remembering that it started on valentine’s day, not december LOL, but soccer season for college is august-november for actual competitions and spring time for non-competition training and games… and I’m also from California so while I knew some schools have like “ski week” breaks in february (we always just called it president’s week break), it absolutely skipped my mind that that is a thing LOL. in this story it is a few weeks before holiday break lol.

taglist: @ursogorgeous13 @khiatonsx

#drew starkey #zach maclaren #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #zach maclaren fanfiction #zach maclaren imagines #zach maclaren x reader #zach maclaren x y/n #zach maclaren x you #drew starkey angst #zach maclaren x angst #zach maclaren angst

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therosielord · 2 days ago

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I am not an addict but struggling with mental health has made me gain SO much empathy for addicts because yeah, I get it. I understand what it feels like when you’re in so much agony, whether that’s physical or emotional, that you would do literally anything to stop the pain. I know what it feels like to not feel happiness for weeks on end and turn to substances because you’re desperate for tiniest shred of dopamine.

HEALTHY PEOPLE DONT BECOME ADDICTS. This is something I wish more people understood. You don’t become addicted to something that can hurt you unless you are deeply unwell, whether that means that you’re chronically ill, mentally ill, or just dealing with severe trauma. People become addicts because they’re self medicating for something serious.

Sometimes people become homeless because they’re addicts, but it usually works the other way round. Being homeless is psychological torture, so people turn to anything that will relieve the misery of their daily existence. Tell me, if you spent every day hungry and cold and scared, never felt safe when you slept at night, had no reliable way of taking a shower, and barely had any posessions, would you want to face that life while sober? People get so angry at homeless people buying drugs or alcohol, but are you sure you wouldn’t do the same if it could buy you just a couple hours where you didn’t feel miserable?

And withdrawal is no fucking joke. I’m on meds that have serious withdrawal symptoms and one time I couldn’t get my meds for a few days and I swear I felt like I was dying. Everything hurt. I felt like I was on fire. All I could do was writhe in my bed and cry. My mom had to call the pharmacy for me to get emergency meds because I couldn’t talk without sobbing. I plan on going off these meds some day but I know it will have to be a very long and gradual process with a doctor overseeing my health, so I can’t understand why people would ever be against the same process for people addicted to illegal drugs. This is why safe injection sites are so important. This is why hospitals give patients alcohol sometimes.

It’s not like I didn’t have compassion for addicts before all this, but fucking hell, I have a million times more now. I have all the makings of an addict and I’m lucky enough that my addictions are things like video games and social media instead of heroin. But that’s all it is, luck. I’m not morally superior to anyone who falls into substance abuse. None of us are. Please have empathy. Addicts are victims, they’re in pain, and they need help. Not “tough love” but actual HELP.

it's just really fucking frustrating that we live in a world where I grew up being trained to believe that addicts are unloveable. and then I became an addict and I was still told that addicts are unloveable. and I just have to deal with the fact that there are people out there who believe that I don't deserve love, or that my partner is brave for loving me, or that my family and friends are suffering just from me existing. and that's fine that's just the way it is

but then on top of that. I have to deal with tumblr users telling me (an addict!!!) that they hate addicts in a cool new way that I should be totally sympathetic towards. see, they had a family member who was the most evil person on the planet! and that family member was an addict! so they can't help the fact that they now want all addicts to die! they can't help it! blast them all.

#blah blah blah

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seongieluvr · 3 days ago

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your sunghoon anal scenario 🧍🏻‍♀️ I’m thinking

okay I got a lil carried away but I hope you enjoy <3

— cw ; anal, oral (f rec), sunghoon is kinda mean but not really, slight ass eating, spit, degradation, praise, pet names, I think that's it

walk with me here for a bit...sunghoon looooves fucking you, like he's convinced there is no better feeling in the world than your cunt wrapped around his cock. and it pacifies him and his high sex drive, but you need more. and so you suggest anal to him.

and at first, he shuts down the idea. he doesn't think it'll feel good for either of you, plus he's super scared of accidentally hurting you and he would never be able to come back from that, knowing he hurt the only thing he's ever really loved.

but after enough coaxing, he is willing to try it, if it means it'll make his baby happy.

and that's how his new obsession starts. the first time he fucks your ass, it's awkward and uncomfortable, but once you both get used to the feeling...he hates that he denied him and you of this for so long.

he almost always wants to fuck your ass, he would never tell you, but he thinks he almost prefers it over fucking your pussy.

he loses his fucking mind when your face is squished into the pillows and your ass is the air, cunt dripping from your first orgasm and his spit from him eating you out just moments before.

"you look so fucking pathetic like this," he growls. he grabs one of your asscheeks and gawks at your tight hole. "literally begging for me to fuck your ass like a fucking whore." he collects a wad of spit before letting it slip for his mouth and onto your hole before rubbing the head of his cock between your folds, collecting your arousal.

he presses his tip to the tight ring and you whine, moving your hips back to gain any kind of friction to your neglected hole. "ah, ah, not so fast, doll." he coos. "are you really this needy? I haven't even properly fucked you yet, yeah?"

you look up at your boyfriend through teary lashes, unable to form any coherent sentence or words. all you knew was sunghoon, and you were going insane that you were being deprived of the one thing you needed most.

"p-please, hoon..." you cry, drool dribbling down your chin and onto the pillows.

"please what, angel? you gotta use your big girl words to get what you want, you know this." he replies, sliding his cock between your cheeks, making a mess of spit and cum.

"fuck me...please. please, fuck my ass...I promise to be good." you whine, tears forming on your waterline.

sunghoon smirks devilishly, a tiny fang poking between his lips. "aren't you just so precious..." he takes his free hand and smoothes your hair from your face. "and who am I to deny such an obedient little anal whore?"

he presses his tip into your hole and hisses, his bottom lip going between his teeth. "fuck, doll...how are you still so fucking tight?"

you moan into the pillows as he stuffs your ass full of his thick cock, feeling every single inch going deeper and deeper until he is fully sheathed inside you.

sunghoon groans when he bottoms out in you and doesn't give you much time to adjust to him before he's pulling out to the tip just to slam back into you.

"such a sweet little angel, aren't ya? lettin' me use your ass like this...letting me mold you to the shape of my cock, knowing no one will ever fuck you the way I do." he spits as he thrusts in and out of you, his heavy balls slapping against your cunt.

your mind is blank and your pussy clenches on nothing. all you want is to cum and for sunghoon to cum in you. "h-hoonie..." you murmur. "p-please fill my ass..."

sunghoon laughs lowly at your plea. "already planned on it, doll."

it didn't take many more thrusts from sunghoon for you to feel the coil in your stomach on the verge of breaking. "'m close, hoon."

"fuck, me too, baby." he grunts as he slips back into your hole. "god, you take me so well...such a good little doll for me..."

the coil breaks and your coming around nothing, feeling it drip out of your cunt and onto your thighs, whining sunghoon's name over and over like a mantra, like it's the only word you know. and right now, it is.

"gonna cum in this tight little ass, fill you up and watch it spill out..." sunghoon pants, and with another thrust, you feel thick ropes paint your walls. he stills inside you, making sure not a single drop spills out before he wants.

he pulls his softening cock out and watches as his cum dribbles out and onto your cunt. he smiles proudly to himself before leaning down and licking a fat stripe up your cunt and to your spent hole, humming at the tastes of you and himself.

you sigh blissfully as sunghoon laps at your cunt and ass, letting him do as he pleases.

"you're so perfect, you know that? my pretty little whore."

#— ask.#— moots!#enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enha x reader #enha smut #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon hard hours #enha imagines #enha hard thoughts

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no-144444 · 6 hours ago

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mistake- l.hamilton

summary: lewis fucks up

pairing: dad! lewis hamilton x fem! mom! wife! reader

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“I’m home!” Lewis called into the house as he shut the door behind him. The patter of small feet down the stairs made his heart beat a little bit faster as the smile on his face widened. It had been a pretty shitty weekend, just hoping to stay in the points wasn’t what a 7 time World Champion should’ve been doing. He should be at the front, where Charles was. So he made his decision.

“Hey baby,” you smiled, watching as your toddlers hugged his legs, both begging for ‘uppies’ as he greeted them animatedly. Archie and Milo, your 5 year old twin boys, Anna, your 4 year old, and Harry, your 3 year old, all grabbing for him as Riley, your 2 year old, was half-asleep in your arms.

He smiled as he saw you, and leant down to the kids, greeting all of them with a hug and a kiss, then standing up and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Hey baby.”

He pressed a soft kiss to Riley’s head, gently stirring her out of her sort-of sleep.

The 7 of you enjoyed dinner, Lewis put the kids to bed while you showered, and met you in your bedroom after what felt like the longest day ever.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind as you brushed your teeth in the mirror. You smiled.

“You alright baby?” you asked, finishing up.

He sighed. It was as good a time as ever, he guessed. “It’s been a shitty season,” he lay on the bed, holding you close to him. “I got an offer.”

You blinked. “From who?”

“RedBull,” he admitted.

“Wow,” you nodded, clearly a little shocked. “RedBull.”

“I might take it,” he admitted. Your jaw dropped. “I want the 8th. I want it so badly Y/n-”

“What about your promise?” you questioned. “You’re nearly 42 Lewis, and you have 5 fucking children and a wife at home who wait for you every single weekend. I know you want all the glory of being the greatest of all time, but will that really be enough for you?” You were exhausted by his ambition. “You’re already the greatest of all time Lewis, one more championship isn’t going to change that.”

“I know I can do it though,” he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“But can RedBull?” you scoffed. “They’ve been fucking Lawson over for a whole year now. What makes you think you’ll be any different?”

He sighed. “Baby, I can’t stay with Ferrari for 10 years when we’re not winning races.”

“They are. Charles is. You’re not,” you scoffed, knowing how mean your words were. “I can’t keep fucking doing this. I can’t just be this perfect housewife. I need more than that. I had a fucking career before this, and you promised me it wouldn’t be put in on the backburner, yet it has been since Milo and Archie were born. You swore to me that you’d be finished when you were 40. You’re almost 42. I’ll never regret having our children, I adore them, but I do regret ever believing you when you said you’d support me.”

Your words cut him like a knife. He felt like shit. He’d done it again, fucking everything up with you.

“Baby, I’m sor-”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean Lewis,” you scoffed. He opened his mouth to say something, but as if it were planned perfectly, Riley started crying, and you got up to tend to her. He sat back against the bedframe and sighed.

What was he going to do?

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

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thesparkling-diamond27 · 3 days ago

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Dancing Through Life

Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader

Summary: Y/n Upperland of the Upper Uplands, cousin to Galinda Upand, doesn’t have a problem with Fiyero Tigelaar, but that doesnt’t mean that she wants him around. However, after one simple walk with the Winkie Prince, Y/n discovers that he’s not so bad after all.

A/n: hi hi! I’m back with a Fiyero one shot, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten about the second Bridgerton and I. I’ve written two chapters so far over thanksgiving break and I might try to squeeze in one more chapter or at least half of one before I go back to school. I don’t really have enough time to write when I am at school, so the next time I’ll probably get back to writing during Christmas break which is in a couple weeks. Then I’ll finish the Bridgerton and I and I’m thinking about waiting to finish the Bridgerton and I completely before posting any more chapters, so the ff will probably be finished in December. I wrote this one shot because Wicked has been on my mind 24/7 and I can write whatever comes to mind, but for the Bridgerton and I have to sit down and rewatch Bridgerton episodes so that I can make sure I get all the words exactly right. I hope you guys continue to be patient as I try to finish it :).

I have recently seen the movie Wicked and plan to see 10 million more times because it is SO GOOD. Wicked is basically my whole personality at this point. I was already obsessed with Fiyero, but Jonathan Bailey as Fiyero made my obsession worse (but in a good way :)). And with this obsession comes a Jonathan Bailey Fiyero Tigelaar one shot. I hope you enjoy!! I also have a plan to write another one so stay tuned for that!

It was a beautiful day today, so after class I decided to read at my favorite spot: the bench under the oak tree. I loved it here because it was a peaceful place where I never got disturbed. Or so I thought.

I realized he was near when I heard the sound of boots stepping onto grass. It was only when his shadow blocked the words on the page that I finally looked up.

Fiyero looked down on me with curious eyes, but there was still a charming smile plastered on his face. I tried to hide how his smile affected me, but he must have noticed the change in my demeanor because his smile turned into a smirk.

I thought after my cousin Galinda introduced him to my brother and I earlier today would be the last time I saw him for the day. It appears the Winkie prince had other plans.

“Well what is Miss Upland doing under the oak tree?” He asked.

“Reading.” I held up my book for effect before I continued back to where I left off.

I saw him take a seat beside me on the bench in the corner of my eye.

“It’s Friday.” He continued.

I rolled my eyes. “I know. I can read calendars.” Fiyero chuckled at my blunt and snippy responses. He could clearly tell that I was annoyed by his presence, but he continued to talk anyway.

“It’s Friday and you are here reading under an oak tree. You should be out there having fun.” He used his hands to gesture to all the other students hanging out at the courtyard.

“This is fun to me.”

“School work is fun?”

“Well for your information this book is not for school it’s for me.”

“Well I believe you are filling your head with too many things. You’re thinking too much.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Well that’s not surprising coming from a prince like you.”

“A prince like me?” Fiyero gave a feigned pained expression. “I’m hurt that you would think that way about me.”

“Well I believe that you present yourself as self-absorbed and deeply shallow, but I don’t think you are. I think you use that as a front to hide the fact that you actually care and have thoughts.”

“Excuse me there’s no pretense here. I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow.”

“Okay.” I said not believing him. I shut my book and stood from the bench. I finished the book I was reading and decided to go search for another one to read.

“Well I guess it was nice talking to you.”

I began to walk back to my room, but he blocked my path.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my room to find another book.”

“Oh come on. Drop the book for once and have some fun.”

“No.”

I pushed past him and walked away without looking back. I was hoping he would leave me alone after that, but luck was not on my side today.

“Since you’re going back to your room, maybe I can save you the trouble of carrying your book all the way back.”

He grabbed the book from my hand before I could say anything.

“Hey give that back!”

I tried to grab the book back, but he raised the book above my head, so that I couldn’t reach and jumping up was no use. Fiyero was laughing at me struggling, so I sighed in defeat.

“Fine. You can help me carry my singular book up to my room.”

Fiyero was happy with my response because he was smiling from ear to ear. We were now standing nose to nose and I could feel his breath fan across my face. If I looked down I would have perfect access to his lips. Wait what was I thinking? I quickly backed away from him before I did anything stupid. Fiyero smiled down at me and said, “See now that wasn’t so hard now was it? Lead the way princess.”

I would he lying if I said I didn’t get affected by his words. Butterflies filled my stomach and I probably would have melted if I didn’t catch myself. What is wrong with me?

“Princess?”

“Yes princess. It suits you. Princess of the Upper Upperlands.” He said with a dramatic voice.

I was about to retaliate when a certain blondey came to mind.

“Shouldn’t you be calling Galinda princess?” I asked.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you two are a thing.”

Fiyero chuckled. “I just met her this morning and besides I’m like this with everyone.”

My heart sunk at his words. So he was just treating me like everyone else? But why was I so upset about it? Just a few hours ago I wanted nothing to do with him and now I was disappointed that he’s not treating me differently.

“And if I called her princess then I wouldn’t be able to call you princess. Princess.” He said with a wink.

That definitely lifted my spirits. Sweet Oz! He was making feel a roller coaster of emotions. I could tell there will never be a dull moment with him.

I gave him a small smile but I looked down on the floor to hide it from him. I didn’t want him to notice that I started to warm up to him, but he saw the slight upturn of my lips.

“Well who knew that Miss Upland could smile. It’s a miracle!”

“Oh shut up!” I said, but you could hear the grin in my voice.

“Besides reading, what do you really do for fun?” I looked up at Fiyero and could tell that he truly wanted to know my genuine answer. So it seems that my premonition about him not being self-absorbed and deeply shallow was true.

“Umm…spending time with friends, swimming. Oh there’s a lake in the Upper Upperlands that my family and I go to every summer to cool off and it has such beautiful scenery. Not to mention the nearby ice cream shop…”

I stopped after I realized that I blabbered on. “I’m sorry I sort of got carried away.”

I looked up at Fiyero, but he didn’t seem bothered at all with my tangent. He actually seemed rather interested with what I had to say.

“No continue.” He said with an encouraging smile.

“No I’d rather not.”

I know he wanted to hear more, but he didn’t push me, which I was glad for. I was a little embarrassed with my little outburst.

“Well how about you discover a new way to have fun?” Fiyero said changing the subject.

“How?”

“Come with me to the Ozdust Ballroom tonight. The most swankified place in town.”

“Aren’t we not supposed to be off campus after dark?”

“Yes, but not being allowed to leave after dark makes it more fun!”

“I’ll pass.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left her at home.”

Fiyero paused before he burst into laughter.

“My joke wasn’t that funny.” But I couldn’t help but laugh along with Fiyero.

Fiyero paused again.“Your laugh.”

I took a few moments to recompose myself before asking, “What about my laugh?”

“It’s beautiful.”

I stopped walking and choked on air.

“What?” I asked, but Fiyero ignored me.

“Which way is your room?”

I realized that we have reached the dead end which separated into two hallways.

“This way.” I said as I begin to walk to the right. I walked a little faster to make this walk shorter. I have embarrassed myself way too many times in a such a short amount of time and I just wanted to smash my pillow in my face and scream. The rest of the way was silent until we reached my door.

“Well here we are. My humble abode.” I said. “Thank you for the uh…walk.”

“It was my pleasure. I hope to see you tonight at the Ozdust ballroom Miss Upland.

“Y/n.”

Fiyero smiled at my response.

“Y/n. I hope to see you tonight.”

I opened the door and was about to walk in, but I turned around instead.

“I know you like to put on the facade that you are this Winkie prince who doesn’t have a care in the world, but you’re also human. Yes you might be self-absorbed and shallow, but that’s not all of you and you have thoughts that should be shared. If you take away your crowd of admirers you’ll be left with the real you. If you want to continue with this role in front of everyone then that’s fine…,but you don’t have to be that way with me.”

Fiyero’s expression was unreadable, but I could have sworn I saw flickers of fear and appreciation.

“Y/n…I don’t know what to say.”

His hands fell to his sides and I realized that he still had my book. I slowly inched towards his hand and pulled the book from his grasp. But before I pulled away I took his hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You don’t have to say anything.” I said with a smile.

He nodded and with one last squeeze I pulled away and slowly closed the door shut.

—————————

I laid in my bed, for what seemed like hours, contemplating whether I should go to the Ozdust ballroom or not. I turned to my night stand to see that it’s only been a half hour. I groaned in frustration and covered my face with my pillow. Then I heard a knock at the door. I rose from my bed and opened it to see my brother Ezra.

“You. Me. Ozdust. Tonight.” He said as he entered my room.

“You know about that too?” I said as I shut the door.

“How do you know about it?” He asked curiously.

“I was invited.” I said as I plopped onto my bed. Ezra raised an eyebrow at my words and joined me.

“You were invited?! I wasn’t even invited! Who invited you?”

“So how do you know about it?” I asked avoiding what he asked me.

“I overheard some students talking about it, but don’t avoid the question. Who invited you?”

“Fiyero.”

Ezra’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling.

“Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country? But you hate him.”

“I don’t hate him! Where did you get that impression.”

“When Galinda introduced us to him you didn’t seem to be too pleased with him.”

I thought back to the first impression I had of Fiyero when I first met him.

When he first stood in front of me I took a good look at him and he was exactly what I expected from a Winkie prince. He was dressed to the nines from head to toe. You could tell his blue jacket and pants were made to perfection and the gold accents were sewn with precision. His black polished boots were so shiny that you could even see your own reflection in them. And that was just his clothes.

Fiyero had an aura about him. It was as if he believed he always had to be the center of attention. Reminds me of someone that I know, but I know that Galinda has a heart. It was too soon to tell if he genuinely cares, but by the way he acted and the way the students nearby looked at him, I could already tell that his way of life to everyone else was fake.

Then he approached me later on in the day and I got to know him a little more. I soon realized that he wasn’t all so bad by himself. It was only when he was around everyone else where his walls come up and he acts out his facade.

“I guess I had a change of heart.” I finally answered.

“Uh huh. And how did Fiyero even get the chance to talk to you. The only way that can happen is if you two hung out alone.” Ezra said teasingly as he wiggled his eyebrows. I laughed at his antics.

“Fiyero might have interrupted my peaceful reading time earlier today and I got to know him a little more.”

“Oh?!”

“And before you say anything else there was nothing else to it. He offered to walk me back to my room and that’s when he invited me to the Ozdust ballroom. On our walk back I got to know him a little better and he’s not so bad by himself.”

“Hmm hmm.”

“Nothing else happened!”

“Hey I said nothing!” Ezra said as he lifted his hands to the sides of his face in defense. “But this means that you’re coming!”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“Why-“

“But I didn’t say no either. I’m still thinking about my answer.”

Ezra looped his arm with mine.

“Now I’m forcing you to come because I’m coming and I’m not going to have you sit pathetically in your room.”

“I’m not going to—“

“Ah uh. I won’t take no for an answer. And don’t say you don’t have anything to wear. Your wardrobe is almost as grand and big as Galinda’s.”

Ezra did have a point. I worried about my appearance and wardrobe just as much as Galinda, but I didn’t flaunt it as much as my cousin did.

“Come on.” Ezra grabbed my hands and pulled me up from my bed. He led me to one of my luggage’s that turned into a closet with the push of a button. Ezra pushed the button and pushed me towards my array of dresses.

“Well go on.” He prompted.

I stumbled upon the rack and begin to flip through my choices until I came across a dress that brought a smile to my face.

—————————

Ezra and I missed the boat that Galinda and Fiyero went on, so we arrived at the Ozdust ballroom a little later. I peeked over the corner and was in awe with what I saw.

The entrance of the ballroom had a ginormous staircase which led to the dance floor. At the end of the room was where a band of animals were playing the music. On the ceiling schools of fish were dancing in formation to the beat of the music. That’s when I realized that this ballroom was underwater. That was something I’ve never seen before.

Ezra and I began to walk down the staircase and I began to notice a lot of familiar faces from school.

“Do people come here often?” I asked Ezra. He first attended Shiz last year, so he had a whole year of experience before I came along.

“I would say so. It’s where most people go over the weekend, but this is the first time I’ve ever gone.”

I looked at him shocked. “Really?!”

“Yeah. I’ve never been invited and I’ve always wanted to go, but I never knew how to get here until I overheard those two girls talking today.”

“Well today’s your lucky day!” I said with a smile.

“Indeed it is.” He said with a chuckle. “Oh I see some of my friends I invited over there. Will you be okay on your own?”

“Yeah I will. Galinda should be around here somehere.”

“And Fiyero.” Ezra said with a glint of mischievousness.

“Yeah him too.”

Ezra laughed before he walked over to his two friends. Now I was left alone to fend for myself. I noticed a drink table on the side of the dance floor, so I made my way over there.

I had no idea what was in the glass, but it tasted quite good. I sipped quietly off to the side when I noticed a familiar figure approach me.

“Well if it isn’t Miss Upland.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Alright then. Princess.”

“Y/n.” I corrected him

“Princess Y/n.”

I figured it would be pointless so I gave up trying to correct him.

“I was almost starting to think you weren’t going to show up. What made you change your mind? Me?”

“Don’t be so full of yourself Fiyero. My brother forced me to come.”

“Aww so I can’t go around telling people that you’re my date tonight?”

I nearly choked on my drink, but I managed to regain my composure.

“Not a chance.”

“What a shame and to think I was going to ask you to dance.”

“I didn’t say no to that.” I said with a teasing smile. Fiyero looked shocked and glad that I was finally playing his game.

“Since you say so, I’ll just take this.”

Fiyero grabbed the drink from my hand and downed the rest of it before setting it on the table.

“Shall we?” He extended out his hand for me to take. I didn’t say anything, but I accepted his hand and he led me to the dance floor.

He began to twirl and whirl me around to the beat of the music and I found a couple laughs slip from my mouth. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time and I couldn’t believe that Fiyero of all people was making that happen.

One by one Galinda, Ezra, and his friends joined us as well. It was great to not care about the trivial things in life and simply dance through life as Fiyero likes to put it.

At one point the band slowed down the tempo of the music to a slower one and Fiyero gave me a knowing look. I looked back at Ezra and he winked at me before walking off the dance floor with his friends. I turned back to Fiyero and grabbed his hand. He gave me a beaming smiling, put his hands on my hips and began to move me across the ballroom floor.

“You know I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier today.” He said.

“About?” But I had an inkling about what he was talking about.

“About me pretending in front of everyone else.” I simply nodded and waited for him to continue.

“I guess I started doing it in order to hide my true depth of character. It was a way for me navigate the superficial social circles and get the chance to meet powerful people. I’ve done it for so long that I forgot what it’s like to just be me, but you were the first person to ever see through that.”

I took a moment to take in his words. It must have been exhausting to keep up that facade for so long. I felt bad for Fiyero. The fact that he felt the need to live like that.

“Well like I said you don’t have to pretend with me. I want to know the real Fiyero Tigelaar. Do you think you can manage to do that?”

“I can for you.”

Under normal circumstances I would have collapsed right then and there there, but that would do either of us no good. Fiyero had just finished telling me something he’s never spoken out loud before and I have to be the support he needs.

He twirled me around once more before pulling me right back into his arms. Then he brought his mouth up to my ear and whispered changing the subject.

“You look beautiful princess. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you tonight. I must say that blue is definitely your color. You are hands down the most beautiful one here.”

“I don’t think so.” I said as I looked down at the floor bashfully.

Fiyero grabbed my chin with his finger and brought my face up to look up at him.

“I beg to differ.” He grabbed a strand of my hair and pulled it back behind my ear. I felt his breath against my ear and shivers traveled down my spine. No boy has ever gave me as much attention as Fiyero has and I was at a loss with what to do. But in a strange way I knew exactly what to do, which is why I was bold enough to try something.

“Can I tell you a secret?” I whispered in his ear.

Fiyero looked confused, but he nodded anyway. I stood up on my tiptoes and went up to his ear, but at the very last second I grabbed his face and connected his lips with mine.

At first he didn’t responded, and I got so scared I got the message wrong, so I almost pulled away. However, he soon reciprocated the kiss and placed one hand firmly on my waist and the other framing my face. The kiss started simple, but then it became more intense. I would have kept on going, but then I remembered where we were.

I pulled away and looked around to see my brother looking at me with a knowing look as if he was saying I told you so. He mouthed, “And you said there was nothing else to it.”

“Shut up.” I mouthed back.

“Do you want to take this somewhere else? Away from the public eye.” Fiyero asked.

I looked up at his blue eyes and thought about being alone with Fiyero. Being able to hold him and kiss him to my hearts desire. I nodded with a smile.

Fiyero smiled back and interlocked our hands. Together the both of us walked out of the Ozdust ballroom without a care in the world and we simply danced through life.

#wicked #fiyero tigelaar #fiyero tigelaar x reader #galinda upland #wicked galinda #wicked fiyero #wicked film #winkie prince #ozdust ballroom #dancing through life

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moonlitwitchdaisy · 1 day ago

Text

Last Christmas, I Gave You My A**

❅ summary: Last year, Gojo Satoru had been a good boy. Well, he’d at least tried. And in return, you gave him the one thing he’d been wanting for a long time. Your ass. That Christmas night was unforgettable for both of you, and you’d promised him that if he could manage to be a good boy again this year, you’d gladly give him what he wanted once more. But could your boyfriend really pull it off? Would he follow to the rules and earn his “dream ass” this Christmas, or would he mess things up like always and end up on the naughty list?

❅ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

❅ word count: 5.1k

❅ warnings: +18 Minors Do Not Interact +18 naughty gojo is trying to be a good boy for reader, mature language, gojo is doing the "jingle bell rock dance," mean girls fan gojo, modern au, teasing, kissing, santa-elf roleplaying, a very slight bdsm (reader is the dom hehe), oral sex (only f receiving because gojo been a naughty boy this year!), anal fingering, using handcuffs, cowgirl, unprotected sex, anal sex, needy gojo (i love when men beg), pussydrunk gojo

❅ a little note: Welcome to my first story from my Christmas series! This is probably the funniest one among them. The idea of making Gojo dance was too tempting, and this is what came out of it. I hope there aren't any mistakes. Even though I've checked, sometimes I can't see them. Other than that, hope you enjoy it! If you’d like to check out the summaries of the other stories I’ll be writing, my Xmas Stories masterlist is here. Also, please comment if you you’ve been naughty or nice this year!

Entering December officially means it’s time to dive into Christmas preparations. You had a million tasks to handle, especially since you were dating a Christmas-obsessed boyfriend, making everything needlessly extra. Right now, you were planning this year’s Christmas.

Or rather, Gojo wasn’t even letting you speak.

“Alright, now that we’ve finalized the menu, let’s move on to this year’s tree decorating theme. Last year’s snow theme was fantastic, but we have to outdo ourselves every year,” your boyfriend said, scribbling ideas onto the notepad in front of him, completely lost in thought. You, on the other hand, were bored out of your mind, listening to him ramble. Suddenly, he looked up from the paper, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Oh, baby! I just had the most amazing idea!”

You chuckled at his enthusiasm. “Hmm, what’s on your mind?”

“I thought, why don’t we combine love and Christmas? We could do a red-themed tree! Oh, oh, oh! We could even paint the tree red! God, I’m such a genius,” Gojo declared as he started furiously jotting down his brilliant ideas.

“How exactly do you plan on painting the tree red, love?” you asked.

“Oh, that’s the easiest part. Just trust me. This year is going to be the best one yet,” he replied confidently.

When it came to Christmas, this man turned into a completely different person. Normally, Gojo couldn’t even be bothered to take notes, but during the holiday season, he meticulously planned every detail and somehow managed to assign you tasks in the most efficient way. If only every day could be Christmas.

“Well, now that we’ve somewhat handled the tree situation, it’s time for the most important task of all!” His gaze shifted to you, and a wide grin spread across his face.

Oh, you knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Toru, I already—”

“CHRISTMAS GIFTS!!!”

Oh, God… This man truly had no sense of subtlety when it came to gifts.

“You’re such a child, Toru.”

“Oh, come on, baby. Gifts are the best part of Christmas! And besides, you don’t have to be a kid to love presents.”

He wasn’t wrong at this one because you also got very happy when you received gifts.

Gojo’s smile grew even bigger as he looked at you with an excited twinkle in his eye. “So, what did you get me?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Toru? If you had listened to me, I would’ve told you that I already got your gifts. You sent me your list a month ago.”

“Upsiee… Did I really?”

You rolled your eyes. This man had a way of driving you insane. “Yes. Yes, you did.”

“Come on, you know how long I’ve wanted the Super Mario Express Train LEGO set. Remember…”

“Oh, here we go again,” you muttered. He must have told you this story a thousand times by now. The even crazier part? You had been there to witness it firsthand.

That day, he stood in line for four hours just to get that train set. And because he was terrified of being alone, he dragged you along with him. When the doors finally opened, he grabbed your hand with one hand while shoving past children with the other. They had only stocked four of those sets, and according to Gojo’s calculations, there was only one left by the time he reached the shelf. Just as he grabbed the last box, a small child grabbed it at the same time.

You’d seen him lose his mind before, but that moment might have been the most terrifying. He shouted, “It’s mine you brat!” at the kid while you begged him not to fight with a child.

“And in the end, as you know, I let that little brat have it.” He crossed his arms, pouting. “I knew I shouldn’t have listened to you that day! Ever since then, every time I try to get the set, it’s always sold out. But luckily, my beautiful, perfect girlfriend must have found it for me, seeing as how she’s glaring at me to shut up right now.”

He was right again. His dramatics had made you desperate for him to stop talking.

“My bank account might’ve taken a little hit because of you,” you admitted. The list of gifts he’d sent you had definitely put a dent in your savings.

He waved dismissively. “I’m worth every penny, baby.”

He really was.

“You’re lucky that even tough you were naughty this year, I still got you those gifts.”

He got up from where he was sitting and came over to where you were leaning against the kitchen counter. “You know you like me being naughty.” He closed the distance, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Because if I were a good boy…” His lips trailed from your forehead to your cheek. “I wouldn’t fuck you in ways you couldn’t even dream of.” His lips moved to your neck, leaving you breathless.

“Toru…”

“Yes, baby?” he replied, his voice low.

Barely above a whisper, you managed, “Don’t tease me.”

Of course, he did the exact opposite, kissing and licking the softest spot on your neck. “What happens if I don’t? Do I get on the naughty list of the sexiest Santa in the world? If I know that Santa well, I think she’ll still give me whatever I want. Especially…” His large hands gripped your hips and gave them a soft squeeze. “The gift I want most.”

You obviously knew what he wanted most. Even on his gift list, he’d written, “MY DREAM ASS” surrounded by exclamation points and hearts. Could he make it any more obvious?

Last year, you’d tried anal for the first time. Honestly, in your three years together, you didn’t understand why you’d waited so long. Knowing how badly Gojo had wanted to fuck your ass, you’d given him the best Christmas gift of his life, even though he’d been a very naughty boy that year.

And my God, the two of you had the best sex of your lives.

You’d done it a few times since then, but Christmas was special to Gojo, and the sex you had on that day was always more passionate, especially when his big cock was stretching your tight asshole.

When you saw “your ass” at the top of his gift list this year, you’d laughed out loud. You knew he’d write it, but this time, it wasn’t going to be so easy for him to get it.

Because naughty kids couldn’t always win.

“Don’t be so sure of yourself, Toru.” You cupped your boyfriend’s face in your hands. “Rumor has it Santa won’t give you the gift you want most because you haven’t been a good boy.”

“Huh, nonsense! She always gives me what I want.”

You let go of his face and adopted a serious tone. “Careful, love. If you push your luck any further, not only will you miss out on your favorite gift, but you might not get anything else either!”

Finally realizing you were serious, Gojo’s eyes widened in shock. “W-What? Baby, please… You’re the most amazing, stunning, sexy Santa in the world with the softest, most perfect ass. You wouldn’t do this to me.”

“Try me.”

Dropping to his knees, he clasped your legs and pouted dramatically. “I can be good! Please, please! I’ll do anything you want. I don’t want to be a naughty boy anymore. I’ll do whatever Santa wants. All I want is the number one gift on my list.”

A victorious smirk spread across your face. Your plan was working perfectly. “Well, since you insist…” You pulled out a red piece of paper labeled “Gojo Satoru’s 4 Tasks for Being a Good Boy.” “You know I hadn’t given you my gift list yet.”

His eyes sparkled with excitement as he stared at the paper in your hand. “Yes, yes, baby. Whatever you want, I’ll get it. I don’t care how much it costs. Consider it done.”

You laughed at how clueless he was about what he was agreeing to. “I’m not sure these are exactly items to buy… but I’d say there’s plenty of work for you to do.” You handed the paper to Gojo, who eagerly unfolded it, only to have his jaw drop in disbelief.

“Baby, what is this?”

“Oh, I’m sure the title explains it, but if you can’t read—”

“Don’t worry, I can read just fine. But what the hell is this?”

The consequences of not being a good boy this year.

“Well, I thought about it, and as the most amazing, stunning, and sexy Santa in the world, I created a special fast-track good-boy program just for you. This way, even if you haven’t been good this year, you still have a chance to earn the gift you want most. Last year, you got it easy, but this year, you need to complete a few tasks to make your Santa happy.”

Still kneeling, Gojo stared at the list before slowly standing and looking at you with wide, incredulous eyes. “Are you trying to torture me?”

“No. I just think you’ve gotten too used to getting everything your way.” Rising onto your tiptoes, you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Remember this, Satoru: if you want to earn the most precious things, you have to be a good boy.”

When you pulled back, you caught sight of his flushed cheeks. No matter how dominant he usually was (especially in bed) your occasional moments of control never failed to fluster him. And you found it irresistibly cute.

“Sweetheart, did you really think a lot while preparing this list?” He glanced at the first item and read aloud: “Task 1: Apologize to the kid you fought with at the LEGO store.” His expression turned sour. “God, how am I supposed to find that kid? And there’s no way I’m apologizing to that little brat.”

“You’re lucky I ran into the kid and his mom when I was getting your LEGO set. Surprisingly, he remembered me and had a lot to say about you. After cursing you out, his mom insisted her son deserves a genuine apology.”

Gojo scoffed. “What a bitch.”

In a warning tone, you said, “Watch it, Satoru, or you won’t get what you want at all.”

Realizing his mistake, he looked at you with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry…”

“Anyway, I took her number and promised you’d deliver a proper apology.”

“Fine. Give me your phone, and I’ll call her right—”

“Oh no. If you think a phone call will cut it, you’re dead wrong, Toru. I’ll send you her number, and you’ll arrange to meet them somewhere nice. Apologize to the kid properly—maybe buy him a LEGO set or treat them to a meal. It’s up to you. But by the end of the day, I want to hear from her that you’ve apologized appropriately.”

Gojo was not pleased. Apologizing was one of his least favorite things to do, and now he had to do it to the kid who took the LEGO set he wanted most.

“Fine, I’ll do it. I’ll apologize to that brat. But only… only for your ass.”

“That’s not the only task on the list, Toru.”

He rolled his eyes and read the second item: “Task 2: Take an unforgettable Christmas photo. Must include: 1. Gojo Satoru must be naked!!!! 2. Use a Polaroid camera. 3. Showcase a Christmas theme (Get creative ♡).” He smirked at you before continuing. “So, uh, what exactly is this photo going to be used for?”

This time, it was your turn to blush. “That’s… not important.”

Of course, you planned to use it for a little personal pleasure during lonely moments.

Gojo’s knowing laugh made your cheeks burn brighter, but he moved on to the next task: “Task 3: Perform the ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ dance from Mean Girls on Christmas Eve.”

“Lucky for you, I know how much you love Mean Girls. And I know you’ll blow that bitch Regina out of the water with your moves.”

“Damn right, baby. I’ll rock your world with my dace that night.” He gave you a quick kiss before reading the final task: “Task 4: Santa-elf roleplay. Costumes and props will be provided by Gojo Satoru’s amazing girlfriend.” Looking back at you with sparkling eyes, he said, “God, I’ve never wanted to be a good boy more in my life. I’m in. For the gift I want most, I’ll be the best boy Santa’s ever seen.”

“Alright, Gojo Satoru. Let the good-boy operation begin.”

“Hell yeah. Good boys are the best.”

Whether or not that was true would be revealed on Christmas.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Christmas Eve had arrived in the blink of an eye. You and your boyfriend had been preparing food together since morning. Over the years, it had become a tradition to celebrate Christmas Eve with dinner, followed by opening presents on Christmas morning and spending the rest of the day celebrating in bed.

That’s where the real Christmas magic happened.

Around 8 PM, after finishing dinner and before diving into your main Christmas fun, you thought some hot chocolate would be perfect. As you were preparing the drinks in the kitchen together, a warmth spread through you as a pair of arms wrapped around your waist from behind. Your boyfriend’s familiar scent, mixed with his cologne, sent shivers down your spine.

“So, are you ready for my spectacular show?” he whispered, planting a soft kiss on your neck.

As you topped the mugs with marshmallows, you replied, “I think this might be the best Christmas night of my life.”

“I’ll do my best to make sure you never forget it. Like I promised, I’m going to be a good boy.”

Gojo was really taking this seriously. He had already completed the first task successfully. Last week, after getting the number from you, he reached out to the mom of the kid he had fought with at the LEGO store and arranged to meet him to apologize. Somehow, by the end of that meeting, they had become buddies, and Gojo even brought the kid over to your house to show off his LEGO collection. You had no idea how that happened, but in the end, your boyfriend had gained a new friend.

“I have to admit, you really kept your word. And you even gained a new friend while trying to be a good boy.”

Gojo let go of your waist, took the mug you handed him, and began praising his new friend with excitement. “Baby, that kid is seriously cool. Okay, maybe not as cool as you, but I never thought I’d like him this much.”

Carrying your hot chocolates into the living room, you sat on the couch and took a small sip. Noticing Gojo’s gaze fixed on the gifts under the tree, you realized he was probably about to pounce on them if you didn’t stop him. “Toru, don’t even think about it! We always open gifts in the morning.”

Realizing his plan was foiled, Gojo gave you a pouty look. “But I want to open them. Especially the one I want the most.”

“Then finish your tasks, love.”

He took a deep breath before standing up and pulling something out of his pocket, trying to hide it from your view.

You knew what it was. Something you’d been dreaming of for a long time.

“Before I hand over this precious photo, I’d like to thank my best friend Suguru for helping me take it. He also helped wrap me in ribbon. Now, if you’re ready, on the count of three, I’ll show you the amazing photo you’ll be using for, well, your moments.”

“TORU!!!”

“1… 2… 3!” Excitedly, he flipped the polaroid photo toward you, leaving you speechless.

You knew you had a handsome boyfriend—Gojo was undeniably attractive. But this photo was on a whole new level.

He was wrapped in a large red ribbon, his hands and body elegantly tied. And yes, even his sizable cock had its own little red bow. On his face was that signature smirk, the one that screamed he knew exactly how sexy he was.

This might just be your favorite task yet.

“Judging by your reaction, I’d say you like it, baby.”

“I-I really do,” you stammered.

Gojo leaned in to press a long, wet kiss to your lips before pulling back, resting his forehead against yours. “Use it whenever you want. If you’d like, I can take a hundred more like this. I love being your gift.”

“Toru…”

“So, do I get my most desired gift after completing the last task?”

Overwhelmed by the moment, you closed your eyes before answering. “Yes. That was the plan, but did you forget your dance performance?”

Pulling back instantly, Gojo grinned. “Baby, get ready to watch the dance of your life. I’ve been secretly practicing every day while you were at work, and trust me, I’m better than that bitch Regina.”

His excitement made you smile. “I don’t doubt it for a second.”

“Okay, okay, now go to our bedroom and stay there until I call you! Don’t come out until I say so!” He practically dragged you off the couch, pushing you into the bedroom before shutting the door and disappearing.

You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of performance he had planned. He was clearly taking this seriously. He really wanted your ass. Not that it would’ve mattered—you would’ve given it to him anyway. But making him work for it was just too entertaining.

Especially since you had some great plans for the final task.

About ten minutes later, you heard him call for you. Stepping out of the bedroom and into the living room, you noticed the lights were off, save for the glow of your Christmas tree (which, yes, he had actually painted red). Suddenly, music began playing, and Gojo appeared in the middle of the room.

As “Jingle Bell Rock” played, he started performing the exact dance from Mean Girls. From the girls’ outfits to the arm movements to the hip sways—everything was identical.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter, and when Gojo caught sight of your joy, he smiled softly, clearly pleased to see you enjoying yourself.

Just like in the movie, the music suddenly cut out, only for Pitbull’s “Give Me Everything” to start playing. Abandoning all sexy moves, Gojo began doing ridiculous breakdance moves, leaving you doubled over with tears streaming down your face.

You were currently watching the world’s most absurd yet entertaining dance performance. Your boyfriend, dressed in a slutty Santa costume, was rolling around on the floor. Occasionally, his skirt would lift, revealing his boxers—an unexpected bonus to the show.

When the song ended, he struck a bizarre pose and froze. You burst into applause, running to him and jumping into his arms. Cupping his face, you pulled him into a feverish kiss.

You really loved this man. He was the only person who would do this for you. Not just to get the gift he wanted most, but if you looked him in the eyes and simply asked, he’d agree to anything. He could never say no to you.

As his arms wrapped around your waist, he pulled you even closer. Within seconds, you found yourself lying back on the couch as Gojo broke the kiss.

“Did you like it?” He rubbed his nose against yours, his warm breath grazing your lips.

“I loved it. It was incredible. That bitch Regina has so much to learn from you.”

“Damn right, yeah.” He pressed his lips back to yours, kissing you passionately, full of heat and excitement.

Lost in the moment, you let yourself be swept away, but then the thought of his next task broke through your haze. This time, you were the one to pull back from the kiss.

“T-Toru…”

“Hmm?”

“Are you ready for your final task?”

“The Santa-elf roleplay? Baby, I was born ready. I can’t wait to see your elf costume.”

Oh, it seemed he didn’t realize he’d be the elf.

“Toru, my love… I hate to break it to you, but you’re going to be the elf.”

“Excuse me?” He sat up abruptly, shocked.

“You heard me right.”

“But I’m already wearing the sexy Santa costume. I thought—”

You sat up from where you were lying, smirking mischievously at your boyfriend. “As the most beautiful, sexy Santa with the softest, ass in the world, if I’m going to give you the gift you want most, Satoru, I think I should be the one wearing this costume.”

You took his hand, nodding toward the hallway for him to follow.

His excited eyes locked on yours as you led him to your bedroom, and your heart pounded like it might burst out of your chest. You had never done something like this before. Normally, you loved letting him take control. But tonight, you were calling all the shots.

Once in the bedroom, you pulled out the elf costume you’d been hiding from him for weeks and handed it to him. “Go to the bathroom, change into this, and only come back when I call for you. The moment you walk into this room wearing that costume, you’ll be my little elf slave. So don’t even think about doing anything that might upset Santa. Got it?”

“Yes ma'am.” Gojo stared at you, mesmerized, before taking the elf costume and fake ears from your hands and heading to the bathroom. In the meantime, you took off your Christmas-themed pajamas and slipped into your sexy Santa costume. After putting on the hat, you lit a few new Christmas-themed candles to set the mood in the room.

Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, you called out, “You can come in now.”

Within seconds, the door opened, and Gojo stepped into the room in the green elf costume, complete with the pointy ears. His eyes wandered from your chest, where the tight top accentuated your breasts, down to the skirt that barely covered your ass, and then to your legs.

You could already feel the heat of his gaze imagining all the ways he wanted to fuck you.

Standing next to the bed, you gestured for him to come closer. Like an obedient little elf, he followed your command and stood in front of you.

“I know how hard you’ve worked this year, my little elf. As you know, it’s Christmas Eve, and after midnight, we have gifts to deliver.” Your hands began tracing his chest. “But I also want to make sure my special elves get their rewards. As my best worker, it’s my duty to give you your gift.”

“I live to serve, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, what is the gift you want most, my little elf?”

Gojo swallowed hard. “I-I, uh…”

Your hands paused their movement and grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer. “You what? Answer me, or you won’t get what you want.”

“Your ass, ma’am,” he blurted out.

“My ass, huh? Do you think you’ve earned it?”

With an eager voice, he replied, “I was naughty this year, but I promise I’ll give your ass the best attention it’s ever had, ma’am.”

His answer made your already wet pussy throb even more. But before he could fuck your tight hole, you had something else in mind for his talented mouth.

“The best attention, huh? Can you give the same to my wet pussy?”

“Absolutely, ma’am.”

“Then get on your knees, my little elf.”

Without hesitation, your boyfriend dropped to his knees, looking up at you, waiting for his next command.

“Lift my skirt.”

His large hands found the hem of your skirt and slowly raised it, revealing your bare, glistening pussy. You knew he was internally battling to keep his composure.

“Do you want to taste it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice filled with longing.

You ran your fingers through his hair, gently stroking it before giving your permission. “Then do it.”

Without wasting another second, Gojo buried his head between your legs and began licking you.

His tongue traced small circles around your clit, making your legs tremble with each pass. Your hands gripped his hair tighter, pulling him closer. You wanted more, needed his tongue to explore every inch of you.

“F-fuck… suck it!” Normally, you’d remember to say “please” because you knew how much he loved hearing it, but tonight, you were in control.

When Gojo’s lips wrapped around your clit and his tongue added pressure, you couldn’t help but let out a sharp cry. Each second he sucked, his tongue teasingly flicked against your most sensitive spot, pushing you closer to the edge.

“God… I didn’t know elves were this good with their tongues—AH, GOD, JUST LIKE THAT.”

When he slid his tongue into your pussy, your head fell back. Your hands tugged at his hair as his tongue moved in and out, making you crave his big cock even more.

“Stick your finger—your finger in my ass. Ugh… stretch it out before I let you fuck it. And don’t stop licking me.”

With a hot breath against your pussy, he replied, “As you wish, ma’am.”

His hand slid from your thigh to your ass, and he began circling your tight hole with his finger before slowly pushing it inside.

“Mhhhmph… fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moaned, overwhelmed by the mix of sensations.

He didn’t let up. While his finger stretched your ass, his tongue continued working on your pussy, planting noisy kisses on your clit. When his tongue found your sweet spot again, he sucked hard, sending you spiraling toward your orgasm.

“I’m gonna come in your mouth… ugh, don’t stop—I’m so close!”

“Please, come in my mouth,” Gojo begged, his voice dripping with need.

A few more swipes of his tongue and a deep thrust of his finger pushed you over the edge. With a scream, you came hard into his mouth, your legs shaking as your climax overwhelmed you.

All you wanted now was to kiss him and feel his big cock inside you.

When he finally pulled his head back from between your legs, his face was glistening with your wetness. You pulled him up to you, crashing your lips against his. Satoru stayed still, letting you take the lead, not daring to do anything that might disrupt your control.

When you pulled back to speak, both your lips were slick from saliva and your juices. “Lie on the bed and put your hands above your head.”

He looked into your eyes and you saw the burning desire in his blue gaze. You knew how much he wanted this.

Without hesitation, he lay down on the bed, clasping his hands above his head. From the nightstand, you grabbed the Christmas-themed handcuffs you’d bought and secured his wrists to the headboard.

“Now you’re completely mine, my little elf slave.” You climbed on top of him, pulling down the green pants of his costume. “Remember, there’s no pleasure for you tonight. You were a bad boy this year, so the only thing you’re getting is my tight ass.”

Pulling his pants and boxers off, you grabbed his hard cock, running your fingers over the tip.

“F-fuck…” Gojo gasped, a string of curses leaving his lips.

In a sharp tone, you warned, “You don’t speak unless I give you permission.”

He nodded obediently, his lips sealed. Aligning your ass with his cock, you lifted your skirt and slowly lowered yourself onto him, letting out a loud moan as he stretched you open.

“I can’t even—God, I can’t even talk.” You paused for a moment to adjust before starting to move, rocking your hips up and down in small motions.

“You’ve been waiting for this all year, haven’t you? Now—ah, God, now take what you’ve been dreaming of.” you said, your voice breathy as your movements quickened.

“Y-yes, ma’am. You’re the best gift I could ever have,” Gojo groaned deeply.

“Yes, I’m the best gift—for you. Only I can give you this,” you panted, feeling the fullness of his cock inside you.

Every nerve in your body was alive, overwhelmed by the sensation of his thick cock stretching your ass. The sound of your ass slapping against him only spurred you to move faster. His balls hit against your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you.

Throwing your head back, you moved your hips even faster. “Are you close, my little elf?”

“Yes, ma’am… oh, so—so close,” he said, his voice strained, his eyes shut tight.

“Then be a good elf and—ah, God, come for me… come for me now!”

With a few final bounces, you felt his release fill you, the warmth spilling into you as you collapsed onto his chest.

Both of you were panting, your breaths uneven as you tried to come down from the high. After a few minutes of resting, you lifted your head to look at him, your mischievous but obedient boyfriend. “Merry Christmas, my love.” You kissed him softly, savoring the moment.

Gojo was still catching his breath. “To you too, baby. Luckily, Santa gave me the gift I wanted most. I think I might actually enjoy being a good boy.”

Your fingers gently stroked his cheeks as you chuckled. “You definitely deserved it. Santa would do anything for you.”

“And I’d do anything for her. Also, baby, I realized I get extra hard when you’re the one in control.”

“Oh, you liked it, huh?” You placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Yep. Let’s do this every year. But next year, I want to be Santa. This costume was so itchy.”

Your lips curled into a smile as you continued to leave small kisses on his cheek. “Deal.”

“In that case, untie me, and let’s put our pajamas back on and watch Mean Girls while drinking hot chocolate.” Mean Girls was probably your favorite movie as a couple. You watched it at least once a month.

While untying the cuffs, you said, “I don’t think the hot chocolate is hot anymore.”

Freed from the handcuffs, Gojo rubbed his wrists where the marks were. “Then I’ll just have something else that’s hot.”

“Like soup—HEY, TORU!” Before you could finish your sentence, you suddenly found yourself on your back as he climbed on top of you, grinning mischievously.

“Something better than soup.” As he lowered his head and made his way between your legs again, you realized you’d be staying in bed a little longer.

In that moment, you were reminded once again how much you loved him, whether he was good or naughty all year long.

But deep down, you’d always love him more when he was naughty.

gojo satoru art by @1004_shvn on X

santa hat divider by @strangergraphics

red line divider by @cxltbr1de

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader

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darlingdaisyfarm · 2 days ago

Text

₊˚ʚ Rain in the woods (Ford Pines x fem!reader) ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

part 3

author note: wow. oh. I can’t believe i finished this :')

this ridiculous, tender unhinged love letter to Ford (and to all of you) has been such a wild ride. tbh i started writing this fic as a half-joke, half-desperate need to get the scenario out of my head and now it’s grown into something so much more intimate than i ever imagined

to everyone who liked, reblogged, who wrote to me such wonderful sweet comments - i read every one and I love you more than Ford loves overthinking. seriously :) your support means everything, and I hope you'll like this final chapter. I’m so grateful for you all <3

ALSO sorry if there are a lot of kisses here….... ummm well I mean, you can't really blame me bc if Ford had let me, I would have just eaten him whole

nsfw, minors DNI

You don’t notice, but his hands are trembling when he reaches for the first aid kit he’d somehow already brought with him. Had he been planning this? Or maybe. . . he just couldn’t stay away, couldn’t bear the thought of you trying to deal with it on your own.

Ford tries to maintain his usual level of calm composure, but the sight of your exposed thigh makes it so much harder than he anticipated. He feels so conflicted, his thoughts are somewhere between concern, desire and disgusting guilt. He’s a scientist, an explorer, a goddamned professional, not some pathetic old man fantasising about—

“This is going to sting,” Ford warns, trying to not look at your underwear along with your exposed body parts. He can’t be the one to make you uncomfortable now, not when you’re already in pain. “I’ll try to be quick, but it will hurt. I won’t push it, but. . . you need to stay still.”

He avoids meeting your wide, doe-like, scared, no, more like nervous eyes. Those eyes had undone him countless times before, always so trusting, so impossibly soft, curious, full of life. He dies every time when you look at him like that.

“Yes, okay,” you answer, though you’re not sure if it’s for him or for you. He pours the disinfectant into a cotton pad and just as he prepares to press it to your skin, you tense. “Ford, please. . . be gentle, okay?”

“I will, if it’s too much just tell me.” Ford still doesn’t dare meet your eyes, not when he knows his own will betray him. Instead, he focuses on the wound, on the crimson smear of blood that trickles down your skin. But it’s not that damn injury he wants to fix, it’s you, all of you. He wants to be needed by you, to be the one who makes you whole again.

Ford prepares himself and trying his best, he gently presses the cotton pad to your skin what makes you gasp, oh, sweet mercy, that voice of yours. It’s all he can do to stop himself from leaning in and capturing your lips in tender kiss, getting between your legs and taking you right there. He keeps going, though, his big hands too careful, like you’re made of porcelain. He doesn’t want to hurt you, never, but he just wishes he could be inside you right now, show you how much he’s desperate for you.

“Ahh! Ford, h-hurts!” your fingers are gripping his wrist so tight, nails digging in, and fuck, he shouldn’t be thinking this. You are hurt, in pain, for god’s sake, but all he can see is you beneath him, making those same sounds for an entirely different reason as he makes love to you.

“Shh, I know, I know it does. I know, but you have to let me do this. If I don’t, the wound could get infected. Tetanus, sepsis are not things to take lightly.”

Goddamn, why he’s so close to places he shouldn’t even be thinking about. You’re laying there so beautiful, helpless, voice pleading with him to stop, it’s driving Ford crazy. His cock twitches in his pants and he hates himself for it, hates how his mind creates an image of you crying out his name like that, begging him to keep going instead of to stop.

He feels the throb in his chest, but in his groin too.

“N-no more, fuck, ugh!” obviously it’s a plea for mercy, but to his traitorous brain, it sounds like—

Ford frowns, looking way too serious than usual as he tries to make his dirty thoughts go away, tries to focus on the wound and not the way your skin feels, but goddamn why are you so soft and warm and why he’s so damn close to you. And then his gaze betrays him, lowering down to the curve of your inner thigh, so close to where the hem of your panties teases him mercilessly.

“That’s enough, please!” you begin, biting down on your lip as the pain grows.

“Don’t move too much, it’ll hurt more,” Ford’s tone sounds rougher than he meant to. “I’m almost done.”

She’s in pain, you disgusting old idiot. She’s fucking suffering and you’re—

“Please, stop!”

Ford freezes, stiffening. That’s enough, you’d said, but it’s not, it’s fucking not. It’s never enough. Not your skin, not your voice, not the way you cling to him, not the way you beg, not the way you look at him.

The cotton pad is soaked now in your blood too, pressing too hard against your skin before Ford even realises it. You wince, gasping again and Ford can't help it anymore. His eyes drop to your panties, how they hug your body and his cock twitches in his pants.

He’s a grown man. He should be able to handle this. But all he can see is you, laid out before him like this, looking at him with those needy eyes, begging him to take you, to fuck you.

“Just sit sti—” before he finishes his sentence, he unintentionally presses the cotton harder into your wound, too lost in his own fantasies and the sharp burst of pain makes you hiss so you move involuntarily, your leg jerking straight into his crotch and—

You feel it.

Your foot accidentally brushes against something unmistakably hard. You didn’t mean to move that way, absolutely. But the second your limb drags against him, you feel it. The hardness beneath his pants. His body reacting to you. To this.

And neither of you move.

Ford is first to speak.

“I— I’m sorry,” he blurts. “It’s a natural physiological response. Adrenaline, heightened states of focus, they can trigger. . . well, unintended reactions. Nothing to do with— nothing to do with you.”

The sharp pain in your thigh momentarily forgotten. “Physiological response?” you repeat. “Ford, are you seriously trying to explain away your. . . uh, situation with biology?”

“It’s not what you think. It’s involuntary. Biological. A man’s body doesn’t always obey his mind. It doesn’t mean anything.”

He sounds so awkward, so flustered and you don’t know what to think. He’s not usually like this. . . well, not around you. Around you, he’s always so collected, always the smart, serious, intellectual Stanford Pines who wouldn’t bat an eye at anything that didn’t involve research.

You try to click pieces together, processing. He feels something for you. That’s the only explanation. He wouldn’t be this flustered, this desperate to excuse himself, if he didn’t.

And now you know. Ford’s just as human as the rest of us. And he wants you, too.

You move again, brushing your leg against him again and Ford wants to die because he makes the loudest surprised gasp in the room. “Doesn’t mean anything, huh?” you ask innocently. “so if I just move like this—” you press just a little firmer, feeling him growing harder. “it’s still just biology. Nothing to do with me at all?”

He’s silent.

“Ford, Is that. . . is that really how you feel?”

He sighs and darts his hand out to grip your leg to stop your teasing. “Don’t,” he warns, saying your name. His eyes meet yours for the first time all evening. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

His eyes stay locked on yours. You’re silent now too.

“Don’t— don’t look at me like that. You don’t understand. I. . . shouldn’t have let it go this far.”

But you do understand, more than he could ever realise.

“But why?” your foot slides all over his hard clothed length and Ford’s body responds with his needy cock twitching at your touch.

“This isn’t funny,” he bites out. “this isn’t a game. I’m not a young man, im not— I’m not what you need.”

“You don’t get to decide what I need, Ford.”

“But you’re too young—”

“Stop treating me like I’m some kid who doesn’t know what she wants. I’m an adult, Ford, an adult!”

“An adult?” he repeats, while your foot is still rubbing over his very obvious bulge. “an adult who can't even get dressed normally for the weather?”

You grin, leaning closer to his face. “uh-huh. And here you are, all worked up over me, right?” you press on his cock harder and Ford nearly finishes in his pants.

He grabs your ankle, even though he doesn’t push you away.

“This. . . now this is inappropriate.”

You rolls your foot over his bulge what makes hips buck just slightly. You bite your lip, grinning at how badly he’s losing control.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, you know that?” you lean closer and murmur into his mouth. “you’re so worried about what I can handle, but look at you. You’re the one who’s hard as rock right now, who can’t control himself.”

“Enough, I’m serious, stop.”

“Make me.”

That’s all it takes. It’s your smirk that gets him, your teasing voice, your dirty remarks, even as you’re sprawled out on the bed with that horrible wound on your thigh.

Ford is on you in a second. His mouth crashes against yours and you don’t even realise what’s happening yet. His kiss is messy and needy, like he’s trying to consume you whole. And you give yourself to him completely, your body melting into his. Every surprised gasp of yours is swallowed by him, his big hands gripping your face as he deepens the kiss. It’s so messy, the way Ford literally fucks your mouth with his tongue.

And you can’t help but tug at his clothes, dragging him closer until he’s on top of you. Ford’s weight presses into you and your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling at it as your body presses against his, your heart pounding so hard you swear he can hear it too. Ford is barely restraining himself from ripping off the rest of your clothes, that oversized T-shirt and panties, and fucking you right here, making all his fantasies come true, which he wrote down in his journal.

His mouth devours yours like he’s starved for you, his hands yanking you closer like he’s holding on for dear life. You let him claim you, let his kiss swallow every thought in your head until there’s nothing left but him, just him, him, him, him. You’re drunk on the way he feels. His hands are everywhere, pulling and tugging at you like he’s losing control. And oh god, you feel it.

You can’t get enough of it. You want more.

Ford is too lost so he lets six-fingered hand slip lower, brushing the side of your thigh and then it lands right where it shouldn’t.

Your fresh wound.

You gasp in pain, breaking the kiss.

“Damn,” Ford instantly pulls away, and his hand is next to your wound, concern and fear are visible on his face. “i’m sorry, i didn’t—”

“Fuck it,” you interrupt, pulling him closer. “worry about that later. I need you now. Please, Ford, just kiss me again.”

But looks like Ford is interested in your wound more than in kiss now.

He’s already inspecting the bandage, ignoring your begging, his brows furrowed with guilt. “i wasn’t thinking, im sorry, does it hurt? did i—”

Why men are so stupid, you think and grab his chin, forcing him to look at you, but he talks first.

“Let me—” he clears his throat, blinking before continuing. “no, let me bandage your leg. We need to, uh, stop the bleeding.”

“Ford,” you groan. “It’s fine. It’s not even that bad now.”

“Not that bad?” he looks you with a glare that’s somehow equal parts concern and anger. “that’s not how infections work, young lady. You could lose a limb if this festers.”

You groan in frustration, rolling your eyes, but he’s already kneeling in front of you. “This is really what you’re worried about right now?” you drawl, raising your brow.

“Yes, this is what I’m worried about.”

And here he is again, between your legs, his hands are still careful as they work, bandaging your inner thigh. Ford is trying so hard not to look at the very place he’s so devastatingly close to. He pulls the knot of the bandage just too tight what makes you let out the softest, unintentional moan.

“You— you cannot make noises like that right now. Stop making this harder than it already is.”

The corners of your lips curl and you lean back on your palms, unbothered. “Says the man who’s between my legs right now.”

“You got a point,” Ford lifts his brows as he clicks his tongue, shaking his head with a rueful grin. “clever girl.”

When he finally finishes tying off the bandage, he proudly looks at the work he done and pulls away, wait, pulls away? However, you don’t let him get far. Your hands drag him back down with a force that surprises him and maybe yourself.

The kiss you pull him into is anything but delicate. It’s urgent and hungry. Ford groans against you as if you’ve stolen the last bit of air he had left. Your fingers fist the fabric at his shoulders and when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeps over your bottom lip.

“Been waiting for this,” you confess between gasps. “Ford, I need you.”

His forehead presses against yours. “You think I don’t? I’ve needed you. God, you have no idea. You drive me insane.”

“Need you,” you breathe, arching up into him. “Ford, please. . . need you so bad.” he swallows your words with another passionate kiss, this one deeper, slower. His teeth catch your bottom lip, pulling a whimper from you that goes straight to his cock.

His lips trail lower, pressing kisses along the curve of your jaw, the slope of your neck. His teeth graze against your skin making you shiver because you feel like on damn fire, so sensitive for him.

“Ford, ah,” you breathe, tilting your head to give him more room as his kisses grow bolder, hungrier. He’s so desperate he can’t seem to stop himself, mouthing at your collarbone, your throat, anywhere he can reach while he mutters how beautiful you are.

Your hand trembles as it finds his, wrapping around his wrist and guiding him down. “Ford, please, touch me there,” you whimper against his lips now, spreading your thighs apart to make space. “need you. . . need your fingers, your hand, please.”

Ford hesitates at first, as if he doesn't fully believe what he sees in front of him, the object of his fantasies, his clever girl, which he wrote about in his journal, right beneath him, begging for his touch, for his love. It seems like his genius brain cannot comprehend what is happening yet.

Finally his hand moves, two fingers, one extra, rubbing you through the fabric of your panties and the sound that leaves your mouth sounds like a desperate needy sob. His forehead drops against yours as his fingers press against the dampness pooling there.

“You’re so wet,” Ford drags his thumb slowly over your clit. “is this all for me?”

“Yes, yes, all for you,” you gasp, writhing under his touch, bucking your hips up into his hand. “only you, Ford— fuck, just keep touching me, please, need more— need you. . .”

“I know,” he mutters, kissing you hard enough to steal the words from your tongue. “i know, sweetheart, i know.”

Ford’s fingers tugs your panties to the side and you both groan when he finally touches you bare. You squirm, swaying your hips to grind against his hand and he curses again, moving his lips to your neck, kissing and nipping as if he can’t stand being apart from you for even a second.

“Y-you’re driving me insane,” he breathes. “been dreaming about this, you have no idea, been wanting you for so long.”

“Good,” you manage a weak smile, whimpering when he circles your clit with his thumb. You curl your nails into his shoulders. “then fucking do something about it.”

Stanford groans at your words, his cock twitches, begging to be taken care of, but his pleasure doesn’t matter now. You’re so hungry for his touch and Ford needs to touch you badly, so he slips his fingers through your folds, caressing you while still rubbing your clit in torturous circles. “like this? does this, does this feel good?”

“Yes, yes, oh my god! more, more, give me more,” you cry when he sinks one finger into you, curling it just right.

“God, I wanna—” but he cuts himself off when his eyes notices that damn bandage on your leg.

“What?” you question and press a light kiss to his cheek, your eyes searching his face. “what do you want?”

“You,” he admits. “I want to be inside you, want to feel you around me, want to, b-but you’re hurt, and I— fuck, I can’t, I can’t risk it.”

You whine, your head falling back as his fingers keep moving, sliding in and out of your pussy, brushing against that spot that makes you see stars. “don’t care,” your thighs clenching around his hand. “i don’t care, just need you, need your cock— fuck, please!”

“Please, don’t say that, don’t say that when I can’t give it to you.”

“Ford, please, I need it! I’ll be fine, I swear—”

“No, you’re hurt, this is all i can give you right now. . . but i swear, I swear i’ll make it up to you, honey, when you’re better, when you’re not hurt, i’ll—” his fingers thrust deeper into your wetness with his thumb circling your clit in time and you interrupt him with loud cry.

“Ford! please, just don’t stop, please don’t stop—”

Ford nods and watches you. Letting his fingers curl inside you, penetrating deeper into your pussy. His movements growing more confident as your body reacts to him, your beautiful moans spurring him on. His lips find yours again and you both get lost in the kiss, in the way your breaths mix, in the way your bodies press together like you’re trying to fuse into one.

Your moan breaks into a cry as you arch your back, eyes closed tight when Ford’s fingers pumping into you faster, your spongy walls tightening around his digits. Oh fucking heaven, that extra finger feels too good. “Ford, please! oh, god— fuck, you’re gonna make me—”

“That’s it,” Ford’s lips trail up to your ear, kissing and biting it as he presses his thumb on your sensitive bundle. “let me take care of you, sweetheart, cum for me.”

His tone and praise is what sends you on edge as you clench around his fingers, moaning his name and cumming while his fingers, slower, but still thrusting into you. You feel so weak and tired, but your Ford is right there to catch you, whispering soft praises into your hair as you shake in his arms.

Ford’s fingers still buried deep inside you as he watches you come down from your high. And it’s so obvious that he putted your needs before his own because his cock, hard as a rock now, strains against the fabric of his pants, creating the most painful bulge you ever seen. He shifts awkwardly, hoping maybe you won’t notice but you do. Oh, you do.

“Ford,” your voice sounds honeyed as you regain your strength. Your gaze drops pointedly to the tent in his pants. “you’re. . . so hard.”

His face flushes and he tries to pull away, to create some distance between you, but you grab his wrist, stopping him.

“Don’t,” you whisper softly. “don’t hide from me. you’ve been so good to me, let me. . . let me do something for you.”

“No,” he says quickly. “you’re hurt. I can’t, you need to rest.”

“Just look at you, you’re aching. You don’t have to do anything to me, just let me help.”

“Oh my god,” he says your name as if ready to scold you. “you’re impossible, you know,” but his shaky hands move to his belt anyway, unsure, like he’s warring with himself even as he undoes it.

“Yeah?” you lean back. “you’re about to jerk off in front of me, Ford, what does that make you?”

Ford cant find any smart or logical response to that because you’re absolutely right, he’s the mess here, the impossible one, the desperate old man. He takes a breath, finally pulling his cock free and fuck, he’s so hard as if he’s going to explode, the head flushed and leaking.

Ford’s cock is already in his hand, the first strokes making him whimper under his breath. His other hand rests on your thigh, fingers nervously flex like he’s desperate to touch more of you, to hold you, to worship you properly like his clever girl deserves, but he’s so lost in this intimate moment, in you, that he can barely think straight.

You’re watching him, trying to control yourself because if you won’t, you might just jump on him and you can't vouch for yourself.

You’re sprawled out in front of him like a dream come to life: t-shirt rucked up, legs spread, panties pushed to the side, leaving your pretty glistening pussy on full display for his starved gaze. Fuck, you look so hot like that, from everything he’s already done to you. He’s trying not to stare and you think he’s so silly when it’s specially show made only for him, so you shift your hips just enough to catch his attention, drawing his eyes like a magnet.

“Touch yourself for me. Show me how much you want me.” your eyes locked on him, drinking in the sight of his hand moving over his length.

Ford’s chest heaves, his hand grips his cock, which is twitching and flushed an angry red at the tip. But looks like poor old man can’t even jerk himself off properly, so you reach your hand out to brush against his wrist.

“Here,” you purr, guiding his hand with your smaller one, wrapping your fingers around his, forcing him to stroke himself teasingly. At that, Ford’s hips jerk up into your shared grip, and you hum approvingly, watching as his lips part in a groan. “yes, like this, honey. Let me help you.”

“S-sweetheart. . . you don’t— ah— you don’t have to—”

“But I want to,” you lean back against the bed, shifting your hips, making sure he has the perfect view of your soaked, glistening slit. “Don’t hold back, i want you to feel good.”

Ford lets himself get a bit more vocal as he groans, his hips buck into your joined hands and his cock twitches against your palm. He’s so fucking hard, leaking against your skin, and the sounds he makes as he strokes himself are too good to be true, yet here he is, in front of you, jerking himself off, moaning your name.

“You. . . o-oh god, sweetheart, you’re incredible,” he whines as you guide his hand again, showing him exactly how to squeeze, how to work himself the way you know he needs it. Meanwhile his other hand braces against the mattress near your head, his knuckles white as he struggles to keep himself together.

“You’re so big, Ford,” your eyes glued to his dick, watching every move with hungry fascination. “you’re so handsome, so beautiful. I could look at you all night.”

He groans at your praise, more pathetic this time, his forehead dropping forward as he stares at where your bodies almost meet. “Christ, you’re gonna ruin me, love.” that’s when his strokes falter for and you take over completely, your warm hand wrapping around his length and pumping him up and down.

“Keep going,” you urge, feeling yourself getting wetter too. “i can’t stop thinking about how good you’d feel inside me. id take all of you, id make you feel so good, Ford. I need you, all of you.” soft whisper into his lips while all Ford can do is fuck your hand pathetically, your thumb sweeping over his tip, smearing the slick there.

Ford digs his fingers into your thigh, trembling. “Don’t— oh god, don’t say that,” he gasps. His eyes are locked on your opening, on the way your arousal glistens, your folds so wet and swollen and inviting.

“Don’t you want to touch me? Don’t you want to feel how wet i am for you?”

“God, I do,” he breathes as his hand joins again, moving together with yours, faster, jerking himself off faster. “I want you so much it hurts. I’d do anything. . . anything for you.”

“Then come for me,” you whisper, reaching out to thread your fingers into his hair when you kiss the corners of his parted trembling lips.

“I can’t— oh god, sweetheart, I can’t hold on much longer.” thick ropes of his cum spills across your thighs and even stomach, marking your skin as he makes a mess of himself. His hot seed drips down over your hand where you keep stroking and caressing him, milking every last drop forcing whines and mewls from him.

He collapses forward after and buries his face against your shoulder.

“I need you so badly,” he murmurs into your skin. “you don’t know how much I want you. You don’t know what you do to me.”

You hum softly, threading your fingers through his damp hair as you press a tender kiss on his forehead.

***

It’s morning and sweet scent of batter and syrup fills the air. The noise and conversations are coming from the kitchen and there’s only one explanation for the chaos: Stanley is cooking “stancakes.”

You’re by his side, propped against the counter, balancing on your good leg, watching Stan cook. Spatula in one hand, the other parked on his hip and he radiates confidence, as if he is ready to host his own cooking show.

“Now listen up, kid,” he says in a voice full of pride. “these are world-famous stancakes. they’ve been called ‘edible’ by at least two people, well, three, if you don’t count the pig.”

“Oh.”

“Oh” he repeats, incredulous, spinning to face you with mock offense. “don’t tell me you’ve never had stancakes before?!”

You grin, shaking your head. “not once. I think Ford’s been keeping them all to himself.”

Stan looks like you’ve just offended him.

“That’s practically a felony in this house! what, Ford never mentioned ‘em? selfish bastard.”

You laugh softly.

“but i gotta ask,” Stan continues. “any allergies to elbow grease? or, uh, whatever was at the bottom of the flour jar. pretty sure it was flour. maybe. . .” he winks and you roll your eyes, however the conversation continues good and friendly between you.

Your hand rests on the counter for balance and you look down, at the faint tug of the bandage around your leg, which works as reminder of the night before. Memories of Ford’s hands, his mouth, the way he moaned your name, how he touched you, heat your cheeks until you force yourself to focus on Stan.

His spatula waves in your direction again. “so, what’s the story with yer leg? take a tumble down the stairs, or was it somethin’ spooky out there in the woods?”

You give him a wide smile. “let’s just say it’s a story. remind me to tell you later.”

Stan raises a brow curiously, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he turns back to his stancakes with a grunt. “hmph, fair enough. just glad you didn’t end up worse. Y’know, if ya ever need lessons on landing on yer feet—”

Before he can finish, his brother steps into the room and you immediately turn your gaze to him. Honestly, he looks like he’s spent the entire night replaying everything.

“Ah, there you are,” Ford murmurs when his gaze finds you, then he clears his throat and nods to his twin. “good morning, Stanley.”

Stan doesn’t miss a beat, gesturing with his spatula. “yeah, mornin’, sixer. Yer just in time for the best damn pancakes this side of the multiverse.”

At that, Ford’s lips curve into a polite smile as he glances at his brother. “that’s good to hear.” then his focus changes, locking entirely on you. His intonation changes into something warmer as he speaks your name. “would you mind if i borrowed you for a moment? just for a quick talk.”

You nod a little too eagerly. “sure, of course.”

Stanley lets out a dramatic sigh, waving his spatula at Ford. “don’t keep her too long, poindexter. She’s gotta try these pancakes before they go cold!”

Ford leads you to his study and you follow, heart thundering in your chest. You’re grinning like an idiot, barely containing your excitement. He’s finally going to say something, but you’re so fucking ready to hear, to discuss, to scream the loudest “YES” when he’ll ask you to be his girlfriend.

When the door clicks shut behind you, he turns and you finally see his face. He’s always so serious, just like right now. But what did you wait? It’s Ford Pines, it’s his normal state. However, you’re so excited you sure he can see the way you’re literally glowing.

You really try to act casual, but inside, you’re absolutely going insane, nervous, happy, excited at the same time. Last night still feels like a fever dream, you can feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the heat of his body against yours, the way his fingers slid so perfectly into you. . .

And now he’s here, just the two of you, and you’re hoping he’ll finally acknowledge the thing that happened between you.

But then he opens his mouth.

“So, about the anomaly. . .” he begins and the words hit you like a slap.

No, no. No no no. Are you hearing this right?That’s what he’s leading with?! After everything that happened last night, he’s just. . . no, he’s talking about the damn anomaly like he didn’t just leave you trembling with the memory of his fingers inside you.

Your smile falters fucking immediately, your shoulders stiffening as he goes on, completely oblivious to the storm of disappointment brewing inside you.

“I’ve been reviewing the notes I took last week. If my calculations are correct, the creature’s molecular structure—”

What the actual fuck.

Your jaw clenches. You stare at him, thinking it’s some kind of joke. He’s talking about science. Fucking science. After everything that happened, this is what he wants to talk about? He’s here, rambling about molecules and rain like none of it ever happened.

You can’t stand it. The frustration takes over you.

“Ford,” you hiss as you shove him back against the wall.

His eyes widen in surprise, but you don’t let him speak. You press your palms flat against his chest, pinning him there, your voice shaking with anger. All you can think about is how he’s standing there like some fucking genius, talking about molecules and data when last night, you’d literally devoured each other.

“Are you kidding me? This is what you wanted to talk about? You’re seriously standing here, talking about anomalies and notes like last night didn’t fucking happen?”

For a second, he just looks at you, his face calm and that makes you practically vibrate with rage, the intensity of your emotions making your head spin.

And then. . . he smirks.

The bastard smirks.

“I wasn’t aware we had plans to debrief, sweetheart,” your fingers tighten against his chest and he raises a brow, clearly amused by your reaction. “Though I must admit, you’re surprisingly strong for someone with an injured leg. Should I be worried?”

Your face burns as you glare up at him. “Ford, don’t you dare—”

“Well?” his gaze piercing through you. “What is it you want me to say, sweetheart?”

His fucking teasing is driving you crazy.

“Are you seriously just gonna pretend like it didn’t happen? That you didn’t— god, Ford—"

“Pretend? Oh, but don’t get ahead of yourself.

I think you’ve got a lot more to say about what happened than you’re letting on, huh?”

Your cheeks burn hotter than they ever have before. You didn’t expect that. You really didn’t.

“Are you seriously gonna tease me about last night? You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, but you’re so worked up now that you don’t even care. You push yourself closer, getting right up in his space, your chest touching his, and now you’re just fuming.

“I’m the one who teases you? Interesting. . .” he leans to your face, brushing his lips against your ear. “What else did I do to you that made you so worked up last night? I didn’t think I was that good with my hands.”

“You bastard.” you hiss as you pin him against the wall harder.

He tilts his head at your words. “Careful, love, I wouldn’t want you to strain that leg of yours again. Especially not after I spent so much time taking care of you last night.”

Your breath catches in your throat. The nerve of this man! You want to slap him, to push him away, but instead, you pull him closer

“You better watch yourself, Ford.” You give him a dangerous smile. “You think you can just pay with me like this? You’re not as clever as you think.”

Ford’s smirk widens. “Oh? You think you’ve got the upper hand? I’ve got you pinned right where I want you, sweetheart.”

And then his hand trails down your arm to your waist.

“And if you’re still mad, I can think of a few ways to work out that frustration.”

Your body goes cold and hot all at once, and it takes everything in you not to melt into him.

Ford is still against the wall where you pushed him, calm as ever, obviously enjoying every second of this, he thinks he’s the one in control.

Your pulse hammers in your ears, your hands trembling against the chest of his sweater. He’s so warm, and god, you hate that even now, even while you’re mad at him, you can’t stop remembering the way he looked last night. The way he sounded when he let himself fall apart under your touch.

“You’re insufferable. Worse than Stan.”

“Am I? Because from where I’m standing, you’re the one pinning me to a wall. Quite forcefully, might I add. It’s a little ironic, don’t you think? Considering how you were. . . what’s the term? Begging for me last night?”

Your jaw drops.

“Begging? You think I was begging for you?”

Ford looks entirely too pleased with himself. “Well, I seem to recall a certain. . . eagerness on your part. Particularly when—”

“You don’t get to talk about my eagerness.” you cut him off, your cheeks flaming. “Not when you were the one moaning my name like your life depended on it.”

That shuts him up.

His smirk falters slightly, and you see the faintest hint of red creeping up his neck. Oh. Oh. Fucking finally. You’ve got him now.

“That’s right. Stanford Pines, world-renowned genius, reduced to a trembling mess because I—” and to kill him for sure, you lean in to whisper into his lips. “jerked you off.”

Ford goes completely still.

There’s nothing but silence. His genius mind working, his lips parting slightly like he wants to say something, but no words come out. His face is a mess of conflicting emotions, embarrassment, frustration and something you can’t quite place but looks suspiciously like agreement.

“Got nothing to say now, huh?” you tease, grinning like an absolute maniac. “What happened to all that confidence, Professor?”

“Well played.”

***

Life at the mystery shack doesn’t feel much different, not outwardly. Stan still grumbles about the bills, the tourists still gawk at the exhibits, and Ford. . . Ford is still Ford, except now he’s yours.

Yours.

The nights are quieter between you both, more intimate, full of moans and groans, petting and foreplay. Like last night, when his clever hands had slipped beneath the waistband of your pajama pants, his soft and needy voice told you he wanted to make you feel good.

God, he did. You’d come on his fingers so good, trembling as he whispered your name and called you his good girl, while kissing your cheeks, wiping your tears of pleasure away. And he’d let you touch him too while your hand worked up and down on his pulsing cock and then he spilled against your skin, while you silenced him with a kiss.

No, it actually feels good, really. It’s better than nothing, than not touching him at all, but. . . you crave, you need something else. Something that is not just his fingers, mouth, or hands.

Ford is so careful, so cautious about your stupid leg, his gentle excuses about your injury making you want to scream into a pillow. Like, yeah, it still hurts sometimes, but you can walk, run, pin him against a wall, fuck him six ways to sunday if he’d just let you.

Ford has his own fears, even if he won’t admit them outright.

But you’re not afraid.

The woods, your anomaly huntings, are different now too. More dangerous, you’d say.

You’re pressed against a tree as Ford’s mouth claims yours. His hands are everywhere, gripping your waist, sliding up under your clothes, pulling you closer, closer, like he can’t get enough.

“Ford, aah, please,” you whimper, pulling him down to kiss you deeper. His knee nudges between your thighs, pressing against you and you swear you’re about to melt into a puddle right there in the dirt.

“Quiet, sweetheart, don’t want the whole forest knowing how desperate you are for me.”

But it’s him. . . it’s fucking him who’s desperate, dropping to his knees to pull your pants down just enough, fingers slipping into your panties to find you already soaking.

“So wet already, holy multiverse,” and then his fingers are inside your pussy as he presses kisses to your thighs and stomach.

But you need to touch him too. Your hands are on him again, tugging at his belt, fumbling with the button of his pants. His cock is hard when you pull him free and you stroke him until he’s shaking, gasping against your neck.

“My love, i’m gonna—” his hips jerks into your hand as he cums, splashing his hot and thick seed all over your fingers. But he doesn’t stop, his own six fingered hand working you until you finish with a strangled cry, pussy clenching around him as you nearly fall, when he catches you, whispering how beautiful you are.

You both collapse against each other, sticky and hot, despite coldness of autumn, grinning like idiots. And then Ford leans in to kiss you again, like he’s already planning the next round.

At dinner, it’s you who starts it.

Your leg brushes his teasingly under the table that has him choking on his water. Stanley doesn’t notice, too busy ranting about some tourist who tried to haggle over a snow globe, but Ford shoots you a warning look.

You just smile sweetly while also agreeing with Stan about his tourist speech as you press your foot higher until you’re brushing against the hard line of his length beneath the table.

The lab is worse.

He’s sitting at his desk, scribbling in his journal with you perched on his lap, your arms around his shoulders, your hips rocking against his as you kiss the side of his neck.

“You’re distracting me,” says fucking Ford with his hands on your hips, guiding your movements as his already hard cock strains against his pants.

“Good,” you kiss his cheek, grinding down harder, feeling him twitching beneath you.

But every time you try to push it further, every time you reach for him, ask for more, he stops you.

“Your leg,” but it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you.

“But i’m fine—”

“No,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “i’m not risking it, not yet.”

***

The November crisp air bites at your skin. The faint smoky warmth of the fire crackling in the yard. Well. . . It was Stanley's idea to do this, he said something about rekindling childhood memories, family bonding and roasting marshmallows like it was summer camp, but he's not here. Something about a "quick run to the diner for pie" turned into him being away for whole evening, leaving you and Ford alone under a shining starry sky.

“You know, for a guy with six fingers, you’re surprisingly bad at this,” you tease, leaning back on your hands as you watch Stanford squint at the marshmallow impaled on his skewer. It's already starting to charred, the edges curling into blackened flakes as the fire devours it. “do they not teach you how to roast marshmallows in the multiverse, professor?”

Ford chuckles softly at your words. “Oh, excuse me, but i’ll have you know i’ve mastered much more complex techniques than this primitive. . .” the marshmallow slides clean off the stick and lands with a soft plop into the embers. Ford stares at it, annoyed. “cooking method.”

You can’t help how cute he looks so you laugh. “You’re hopeless,” you brush your shoulder against his, smiling. “here, let me show you.” Ford nods, handing you the stick. “first rule,” you skewer a new marshmallow. “don’t hold it so close to the flame. you want it golden, not a cremation. You’ve gotta keep it turning. Patiently, like this.” you rotate the stick slowly and Ford actually watches, his gaze is not on the fire, but on you.

“i see,” he says thoughtfully. “golden, not charred.”

“Exactly,” you let marshmallow toast evenly. “you just have to—” you glance up to check on him and Ford’s still watching you. It steals the breath from your lungs and you gulp awkwardly. “. . . focus,” you finish a little quieter. “why you’re looking at me like that?” you smile.

Ford laughs. “maybe in some universe, you do dress appropriately for the weather?”

You blink at him, thrown off for a second, before realising. Oh. . . oh, right. Your teeth chatter slightly, fingers cold and you’re shaking slightly, it’s so obvious. “i guess no?”

Ford doesn’t even dignify that with a response. Instead, he’s already shrugging out of his coat and draping it over your shoulders before you can protest, but it’s not like you wanted to anyways. His trench coat is heavy and smells just like him and your smile couldn't get any wider.

“Thanks, again. . . heh,” you try to sound nonchalant, but the coat is still warm from him and you clutch it around you tighter.

“So, you were saying?” Stanford prompts, tilting his head toward the marshmallow in your hand.

You clear your throat. “Right, uh, where was i? oh, yeah. so, you’ll know it’s ready when it’s this perfect golden brown all over, not a single—”

“Give me a kiss,” Ford says suddenly, interrupting you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You’re not sure who leans in first. You, probably, but he meets you halfway. Ford’s lips are warm, so soft against yours. Your heart stutters in your chest as blood rushes in your ears, one of his hands comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing feather-light against your cheek. Your hands find his chest, fingertips pressing into his sweater as you you sigh into him.

The kiss deepens, not hurried, but like you’ve both waited far too long for this moment. Ford leans into your touch like he’s been craving it just as much as you.

When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours and none of you speak, both quiet and only fire is crackling softly beside you.

“I think i might be terrible at marshmallows.” Ford smiles shyly.

You blink at him, you lips still tingling from the kiss, your head feeling too light to even process his words at first. Oh god the whole moment so tender, so beautiful, so intimate it almost makes you want to cry.

“Ford,” and he hums softly in response.

“Hmm?”

“Give me another.”

Ford doesn’t need to be told twice.

This time, it’s you who closes the distance, but his lips crash into yours like he’s been waiting, holding himself back and now he simply can’t. His hand slides to the back of your neck as the kiss deepens, hotter, hungrier. You sigh into his mouth, your knees going weak beneath you, but Ford steadies you, holds you.

His coat slips off one of your shoulders as your arms wind around his neck, pulling him closer, closer, closer until there’s no space left, and even then, it doesn’t feel close enough.

“Ford—” you manage to groan against his lips and he pulls back just slightly.

“What is it?” the way he’s looking at you, fuck, like he’s already undressing you in his mind, makes you feel dizzy.

You pause, staring at him, at the mess of his hair, the faint flush dusting his cheeks, the way his lips are already red from kissing you. This man. This ridiculous, brilliant, beautiful man.

“My leg,” you feel nervous out of sudden, afraid he might reject you again. “it’s— it’s healed now, you know. . . i can— i can handle more.”

Ford freezes, thinking. And then. . . Oh.

He kisses you again, but this time it’s different, this time, there’s no holding back, no careful hesitation.

"Inside," your voice is trembling with anticipation. "please, Ford, let’s go inside."

And god help you both, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to say no.

***

Ford’s whole body is pressing you into the mattress as though he’s trying to meld you both into one. His hands grip the sheets beside your head and he’s so warm against you. He kisses you messily and desperately, too eager.

“Ford, please,” you whimper, lifting your hips and grinding up against his hard, pulsing length.

“Yes, Ive got you, I’ve got you,” his own voice trembling as one hand dives down, gripping your hip, trying to keep you still but failing miserably because he can’t stop himself from rutting into you. “im right here, my love, i’m gonna take care of you.” the bed creaks beneath the weight of both of you, but neither of you can hear it over the needy moans you two share.

You can’t stop the high pitched whine that escapes you as his knee slots between your thighs, pressing against you just right and you swear you’re losing your fucking mind. “Nngh, Ford, Ford, please,” your voice so fucking needy it feels embarrassing.

Ford stops, just for a second, pulling back to take a good look at you. His eyes are blown wide, pupils black as they devour every little expression you make. “tell me, tell me what you need.”

You nearly cry. “touch me,” you plead.

“Oh sweetheart, my good girl,” his trembling fingers brush the hem of your clothes, slipping underneath to glide against your skin, being so careful like you’re too delicate, too fragile for him, he’s afraid you’ll shatter if he’s not gentle. “i’m not going anywhere,” he promises, dragging his lips down your jaw, going lower to the sensitive skin of your neck. “i love you so much.” and before you can even think to respond, his mouth is on yours again, swallowing your moans because he’s desperate to consume every single piece of you.

Oh, sweet fucking hell, you think when Ford lowers himself between your thighs looking like a man on his knees at an altar and you’re the goddess he’s about to worship. He spreads your legs wide, his six-fingered hands curling into the plush of your thighs and he just stares for a moment like he’s seeing heaven itself. His lips part, and his tongue darts out to wet them, the hunger in his gaze as if he can’t believe this is real.

"My love," he groans. "so pretty, you’re so pretty. . . this is all mine, isn’t it? tell me, sweetheart, say it, say it’s all for me."

“It’s yours, Ford,” you melt under his gaze, feeling so exposed and he hums in approval.

“Good girl,” and then he dips his head down, brushing his lips against your inner thigh, kissing your healed wound.

You grow impatient with every second, and fucking finally, he’s right here, his face hovering over your throbbing pussy which needs his attention so bad, and he takes a deep breath.

Ford presses a kiss just above where you’re all wet and your hips jolt, seeking more.

“F-Ford! fuuck. . . fuck fuck fuck!”

“Shh, just like that, i’ll take care of you,” he presses one hand firmly on your pelvis to keep you still. “just relax, darling, let me have you.”

You’re too far gone to even respond coherently, only letting out pathetic whimper as he drags his lips lower and lower until his warm mouth hovers right over your soaked folds.

His tongue presses flat against your pussy, slowly and oh fuck, you taste so damn sweet, Ford growls and that vibrates straight through you. “oh, god," he pants, pulling back before diving in again, "you taste. . . you taste so good, so sweet, like you were made for me." Ford’s voice muffled against you as his tongue flattens, dragging through your slick, tasting you.

His hands grip your thighs tighter to hold your squirming body in place as he tilts his head to get a better angle. His lips seal around your puffy clit, sucking gently at first, then harder when your hips jerk up into his face. He holds you open because he’s not letting you go anywhere, his tongue flicks over that sensitive bundle of nerves until you’re sobbing his name.

“Ford. . . oh god! Ford, too much—!”

You’re trembling and panting as his tongue circles your little clit in soft lazy strokes that have your back arching off the mattress. You fist your fingers into the sheets as his lips seal around your sensitive clit, sucking gently before releasing you with a soft, wet pop.

“Taste so good,” Ford says more than all to himself. He licks into you now, dragging his wet tongue through your soft folds, lapping up everything you’re giving him like a man possessed. “g-give me more, darling, please. . . i need more of you.”

“Ford, Ford! Ford, i—” you buck your hips against his face as the wet sounds of his mouth on you fill the room.

“Mmhm, that’s it, sweetheart,” his voice muffled against your cunt as his lips brushes your clit, letting his fingers slide lower to tease your dripping entrance. “just let me make you feel good.”

Ford pulls back just enough to gasp for air, his lips and chin shiny with your slick and you swear he looks drunk, eyes glassy and pupils blown wide. “you taste so good,” he groans, diving back in immediately, never having enough, moving his mouth against you like he’s kissing you there, sloppily, noisily and so damn messy.

You’re not damn ready for what comes next. When his fingers finally slip inside, you nearly scream, two of them, then three with his extra middle one sliding into your soaked pussy, while another circles your clit, working in perfect tandem with his tongue. "so tight, so wet for me," his voice muffled as he sucks your clit into his mouth again. "give it to me, sweetheart. . . let me have it, be a good girl for me, yeah?"

His pace quickens as your walls flutter around his fingers. But he doesn’t stop, not even when you’re writhing and tears streaming down your cheeks from the pleasure. He licks, sucks and slurps at you, addicted to the way you taste, the way you feel. “Ford, I’m gonna cum—”

You cry out and jerk your hips against his face as you do. He growls, gripping you tighter, holding you still as his mouth moves faster, hungrier. Your walls spasming around his long fingers, your clit pulsing between his lips.

But Ford’s mouth doesn’t lift and doesn’t slow, even when your thighs tremble and your fingers push weakly at his hair to tug him away.

“No, Ford, please,” you gasp as he sucks your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue against it in slow circles. “i-i can’t— too much. . . im sensitive, Ford—”

But he doesn’t give a fuck, his grip tightens on your thighs to keep them spread wide. “Just one more, sweetheart,” his words slurred, drunk off the taste of you. “please-please, i need. . . one more, just one more for me.”

You can’t hold back the loud cry that escapes you as his tongue dives back in, licking and lapping. Your legs jerk, trying to close, but his strong hands keep them locked open. “don’t fight me, let me, let me have you.”

“Ford, oh god—” your voice is broken as his tongue works all over your pussy, it’s overwhelming and unbearable, your entire body feels like a live wire as he devours you, never giving you a moment to recover.

“that’s it, love, cum for me, please. . . be a good girl and cum on my face.”

And you do again, god, you do, because there’s no stopping it. Your orgasm crashes over you again, ripping a scream from your throat as your back arches off the bed. Your vision whites out, your mind blank as your release floods through you.

Ford moans into you as you come, his mouth latched onto your clit, his tongue lapping up every drop. When you start caressing his hair as if thanking him, he presses wet sloppy kisses to your trembling thighs.

You’re still shaking and gasping for air, when he finally lifts his head, his chin glistening as he stares down at you and smiles. But you still can’t have enough, not satisfied, not when he haven’t been inside you and fucked you properly, you’ve been craving this for months and you totally go for it now. “Please, need you, Ford, please, i need you inside me.”

He doesn’t even make any excuses this time when he kneels between your legs, his cock flushed and throbbing, the head slick with pearls of precum. “you sure?” is all he asks as his hands come up to cradle your hips.

“Yes, god, yes,” you plead, spreading your legs wider, your eyes glazed with need. “please, i can’t wait anymore! i need you.”

He knows you do because he’s in absolutely same state as you, needy and desperate to fuck you, that’s why he’s pressing into you, the thick head of his cock stretching you open and you both moan loudly when he slides deeper, his girth filling you.

Ford is trembling above you, sweat slicking his brow as he inches himself inside carefully, terrified he might hurt you or worse, lose control. But you’re ready, so ready, your nails digging into his shoulders, “more, please, i can take it.”

Ford’s hips stutter as he bottoms out, his cock buried to the hilt. “Y-you’re so tight, sweetheart, so damn tight. i don’t— don’t know if i can move. . . feels too good. . . god, you’re perfect.”

You’re no better because your walls clench around him and your voice so high and breathless as you cry, “so full, Ford— oh my god, you’re so big.”

“I know, love, i know,” he soothes, finding your parted lips with his as he starts to move slowly, making shallow thrusts that have you both gasping. “you’re doing so good, taking me so well, feels like heaven, baby.”

You feel every inch of him, every twitching vein as he sinks deeper, the stretch delicious, making your head spin. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him on. Your wet pussy squeezes his dick so good he nearly loses it right there.

And it’s too much, too good to be true, both of you letting out incoherent sounds and slurred praises as he thrusts into you, moving faster, his thick cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you. You try to move together with him, creating a perfect sync.

“You feel so good, sweetheart, too good. i don’t— I don’t think i’m gonna last.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, cupping his cheek when you look right into his dazed eyes. “fuck me harder, Ford, please. . . need you so bad.”

He hears you, snapping his hips against yours, his pace quickening as he loses himself in you. Your moans about how good it feels fill the air while your hands are clawing at his back, nails biting into his skin as you try to pull him closer where it seems impossible. His scars feel rough under your touch as your fingers trace them blindly, making Ford moan at the sensation. His hips jerk forward, driving deeper and you cry out.

“So tight,” he groans into your ear. “you’re squeezing me, love, c-can’t think. . . you feel— oh, sweetheart, pussy so good.”

Your nails dig deeper, leaving crescents in his skin as he fucks into you with deep thrusts that have you gasping. “more, please, more,” you beg and he obeys without question, burying himself deeper, harder into your cunt.

“That’s it, love,” his hand slips between your hot bodies to find your aching clit, circling his fingers over the swollen nub with featherlight touches. “look at you. . . so beautiful, so good for me, you’re perfect, love. . . my perfect girl.”

Your vision blurs when he thrusts into you, at the same time his thumb presses down on your clit and a sharp cry spilling from your lips as the pleasure builds.

“Ford!” you whimper while your hands clutch at him. “oh god, i—”

“I know, love, i know, i feel it, let go for me, sweetheart, cum for me.

His beautiful voice and words are enough to pull you through another powerful orgasm, your body tense as you finish, breathless, boneless, drunk on his cock.

Ford’s dick throbs as your release slicks his length, dripping down to pool at the base of him. “you’re so wet, sweetheart, good girl.”

You cant think, not really, too fucked out and tired, your body trembles and you can barely take a breath, but Ford doesn’t stop, determined to fuck your brains out. His thumb circles your clit again and your hips jerk away, the overstimulation making you whimper. “n-no, wait— I’m sensitive—”

“Just one more, love,” he pleads. “please, baby, just one more for me. you can do it, I know you can.”

You try to close your legs and your body twitches with every touch, too much to handle, but Ford holds you open firmly, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, your shoulder, anywhere he can reach. “you’re so good to me, so good, can’t get enough of you.”

He continues thrusting into you, filling your pussy to the brim and pulling out, slamming back again, you feel good, you do, especially with right amount of pressure being applied to your clit, but pleasure borders with sensitivity and little pain from overstimulation as he drags against that tender spot inside you. “Fuck, please! i can’t—”

“You can. You’re my good girl, you can give me one more, please, baby, cum on my cock again.” his words light a fire in your veins because the coil of pleasure tightening and building again despite the ache, despite all these overwhelming sensations. He fucks you so deliciously, grinding his hips into you in deep, slow rolls that make your toes curl and eyes roll, your nails scraping across his shoulders and back, all over his old scars. Ford groans at the sting.

“That’s it, love, just like that, let me have all of you.” he wets his fingers with saliva before bringing them on your sensitive nub again. “you like that? y-you like it when i touch you here, sweetheart? tell me, tell me how good it feels.”

“So gooood. . . feels so good, ford, don’t stop, please don’t stop, fuck me, fuck me!” and then you break again, another orgasm crashing over you, but this time you literally scream from how good it feels, your body convulses, your nails dig into his back with such force that blood comes out. Ford watches you come undone as he fucks you through it, his cock coated in your juices once again.

Ford cant hold himself anymore because you notice how his thrusts grow more deeper, harder, more erratic. His sweaty forehead is pressed against yours, his groans changing into desperate pants and you feel how close he is because his cock twitches inside you, his body trembles as he fights to hold on. “don’t w-worry, don’t worry, I’ll pull out— I’ll—”

“No!” the word bursts out of you in a panic and immediately, you lock your legs around his waist to prevent that. “no, no, Ford, please, don’t, you can’t, don’t leave me, please—” your words tumble out in a frantic, incoherent mess, more sob than speech honestly as you cling to him like your life depends on it. “please,” you babble, your nails scraping against his skin, pulling him impossibly closer. “need it, need you, don’t pull out, please, please, please—”

His surprised eyes fly open as he processes your words. “but—”

All you do is nod frantically in response, hot tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, your legs squeezing around his waist to keep him in place. “yes, inside, cum inside me, I need it, I need you to cum inside me”

Ford groans as he gives in, his hips snapping forward with a force that makes you cry out. He holds your thighs, spreading you wider for himself as he buries himself to the hilt, as deep as he can go. He growls as his head falls back, he squeezes his eyes shut and just loses himself. “gonna— g-gonna cum inside you. . .”

It happens, finally, his hips slam into you one last time and he finishes, his cock pulses as his cum paints your walls white. He hides his face into your neck while loud sound tears from his throat, halfway between a groan and whine. He rolls his hips, continuing to sloppily and lazily thrust into your pussy, grinding against you, unable to stop because he needs to give you every last drop of himself. “you’re— my love, so good, I feel so good. . .”

You lay under him and take it all, milking him for everything he has. Your fingers tracing his beautiful scars, ones you gave him now and his own ones, smearing a little blood over his skin, your legs tightening around him as you whimper, feeling every pulse of him, every twitch of his cock inside as he fills you. Oh god, such intimacy leaves you dizzy, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst.

“Thank you, Ford,” your body arches into him, asking, no, seeking more, always more. “feels so good. . .”

Ford finally comes back to his senses upon hearing your voice, he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he shudders through the last waves of his orgasm. He presses kisses to your face, your neck, your shoulders. “I love you, i never want to let you go.”

He pulls out with a shaky groan as he tries to catch his breath, his cock still glistening and twitching. But the loss of him leaves you feeling achingly empty, your walls clenching around nothing as a soft whimper escapes your lips.

Ford is frozen above you, though, his chest heaving, his wide eyes fixed between your legs. The sight of his warm thick seed slowly trickling out of you renders him completely silent.

You let out a deep sigh, dazed, a dumb little smile curling at your lips as you look up at him, completely blissed out and so beautifully ruined. You trail your fingers down slowly, maybe to tease him once more, until finally dipping between your thighs to catch the mess he’s made.

You circle your clit gently, then lowering your fingers to your hole, collecting his cum, covering your fingers with this sticky mess and Ford tracks every movement. And then, oh, you push it back inside, curling your fingers deep, your head falling back with a quiet moan as you savour every drop.

Ford fucking whimpers at the sight as he watches you pump his sperm back into yourself.

“Don’t. . . don’t want to lose it,” you smile, looking at your scientist through half-lidded eyes, gaze unfocused. “don’t want it to go to waste, want to feel you.”

Before you can say another word, he’s on you again. His hands spread your thighs wides when he positions himself at your entrance. Without word, he pushes back in, groaning as he stretches you open again. “you’re beautiful,” he gives you a kiss, while slowly fucking his cum back into you again, making sure to not miss a drop, letting it stay where it belongs.

You hold him close, caressing his face and looking into his beautiful eyes. “I love you so much,” but you get interrupted by a little sudden thrust he makes. “oh, ah, Ford!”

“Shh, i’ve got you, love,” Ford gives you a warm loving smile, rocking his hips gently. “you were so good for me, sweetheart.” he looks at you like you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered, like he’d give you the whole world if you asked and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your crazy heart thunders in your ears as you hug and cuddle him, lost in the way he fills you so completely, so perfectly, like you were made for this.

The two of you don’t even bother moving because there’s simply no energy left to clean up. Ford stays buried inside you with his heavy body on top of yours like a blanket. For the first time in life, you feel that safe, good and loved, warm and. . . full in every sense of the word.

Sometime later. . . hours? you’re not sure, but the soft gray light of dawn creeping through the curtains. You feel Ford’s broad chest pressed against your back and suddenly his hand skims up your thigh.

“Ford,” you murmur, half-asleep as his lips brush the curve of your shoulder. His hand finds your leg, gently lifting it as he settles himself against you. “yes, please. . .” you smile, closing your eyes as you feel his cock rubbing against your folds.

He kisses the side of your neck. “just need you again, can’t help it. . . need to feel your pussy around me.”

You moan softly as he slides into you from behind. The angle is perfect as he fills you, sending shivers through your sleepy body. His hand lays on your thigh, holding you steady as he starts rocking into you, slowly, still sleepy, but fucking deep, each thrust making you sigh and whimper.

“I’ll never get enough of you,” his free hand skims over your waist, cupping your breast and playing with your nipple.

Meanwhile your hand reaches back to clutch at his hip and your head falls back onto his shoulder, Ford drives deeper into your pussy. “Ford. . . oh, Ford, yesss. . . just like that.” you mewl sleepily when you feel his fingers on your clit.

You dont know what time is it, probably very very early morning, but you let him take you. There’s no rush, no urgency, just sleepy, languid thrusts and quiet soft moans you two share in the early morning while being half awake.

The sun is higher now, casting autumn golden streaks across the room, when you wake again. You’re alone in the bed and your body deliciously sore, marked with the evidence of last night. . . and this morning. Faint marks of kisses and hickeys bloom along your skin, the ache in your thighs reminds you of how thoroughly he’d claimed you.

The blanket is all over you, keeping you warm despite your nudity. You stretch out, yawning and blink away the last traces of sleep, but you notice him at the edge of the bed. Ford sits with his scarred back to you, hair messy, but his posture is perfectly straight as he leans over his. . . ah, yeah, now you see it, journal.

He’s scribbling something down there, intense focused, face serious and you just lay there, enjoying comfortable silence and watching him, taking in the way he looks so handsome even in his rumpled state.

“Morning, genius,” you murmur finally.

Ford glances over his shoulder. “Oh, good morning, love,” he says warmly, setting the journal aside and moving to your side of the bed. He leans down to kiss you, brushing his hand over your hair. “how are you feeling?”

“Sore,” you admit with a smile as you stretch beneath the blanket.

Ford studies you. “i’d say that’s to be expected. Rest a bit longer, okay? I’ll make us something to eat soon.”

“You better hurry because i’m so starved,” you yawn, covering your mouth with your hand.

“Starved, are you? well, you’re taking a shower first,” he says seriously, though his tone remains gentle. “you’re not wandering around covered in. . .” he stops himself as his cheeks flush a little, trying to find right words to use.

“Hm? Covered in what, ford?” you tease, propping yourself up on one elbow.

“You know what, honey, don’t make me say that.”

Your eyes flick to his journal. “what are you even writing in there, anyway? can’t believe you’re making notes after the night we had. Is it, like, some x-rated research?”

Because of your question, Ford straightens up, his face expression changes, the earlier embarrassment melting away as excitement takes its place. He looks like he’s just cracked the secret of the universe. “actually,” he begins, adjusting his glasses, “i think i’ve finally solved the equation for that anomaly we’ve been tracking! The one that disappeared because of the rainstorm, remember? I had a theory about the dimensional distortion rate and this morning, it all just clicked!” Ford launches into an explanation now.

You, however, just blink at him and knowing grin spreads across your face. “so, what you’re saying is. . . my pussy literally makes you smarter?”

Ford stops mid-sentence as he stares at you, flustered. “i— I wouldn’t put it like that,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, looking everywhere except at you. “but. . . perhaps there’s a correlation. . .”

You just laugh, dropping back onto the pillows as you watch his awkward attempts to compose himself. “yeah, yeah, Ford, I got you.”

He grumbles something about inappropriate comments, but the corners of his mouth betray him, curving into a shy smile.

“So, my pussy is the key to unlocking the mysteries of the universe? Who knew i was a genius all along.”

Ford groans, hiding his face in his hands, “Oh my god,” he says your name. “you’re impossible.”

#gravity falls #x reader #gravity falls smut #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #ford pines x reader #ford pines smut #stanford pines #ford pines x you #stanford pines x you #stanford pines x reader #gravity falls fanfiction #grunkle ford

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drewizz · 2 days ago

Text

THIRD TIME - 03. fortuitous

pairing ☆ rafe cameron x reader

WARNINGS: none. (but the tension thickens increasingly fast)

WORD COUNT: 1.8K

TAGLIST: open! comment or send in an ask

series masterlist. previous next

fortuitous. (adj) happening by a lucky chance; fortunate.

Luck wasn’t necessarily supposed to come in arrogance and trouble. But it seemed to be the case for you in the span of three consecutive days.

This time, it wasn't in the warmth of a coffee shop or the chaos of a party, but it was a pleasantly quiet stretch of the waves. Where one could note the scent of fishy saltwater hanging in the air, and how only the sound of the occasional cry of a seagull could be heard.

It was a late afternoon, and you had been walking along the docks – thoughts heavy as the gray clouds gathering on the horizon. The docks had always been your special place to think. A spot where the world felt a little less inordinate. Peace. Solitude. Tranquility.

And after many days being alone here at the docks, you didn’t expect anyone to be there before you. At least least not him.

But there he was. Rafe Cameron, sitting on the edge of one of the docks like he had all the time in the world. His legs dangled over the edge, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers, and his gaze fixed on the water as if he were waiting for something – or more specifically, someone.

Your first instinct was to turn around (like last time) and leave before he noticed you. But the creak of the dock beneath your feet betrayed you, and his head turned, those sharp blue eyes locking onto yours.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The air between you two was thick with tension, unspoken words hovering like a raging storm waiting to break.

Breaking the silence, he spoke first. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite mystery girl,” Rafe remarked, his voice laced with that infuriating note of charm.

You sighed, crossing your arms. “Do you plan to appear every part of this town this entire week, or are you just trying to follow me?”

He smirked, flicking ash from his cigarette into the water. “Neither. I'd like to rather think of it as fate.”

“Fate? You think you’re poetic now?”

“Maybe,” he said, his smirk widening. “You’d be surprised what I’m capable of.”

“Surprise me then,” you challenged, eyes narrowing at him.

Rafe’s expression shifted slightly, the teasing edge softening as he studied you. “Never mind that, what are you doing here?”

Your brow furrowed. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I asked first,” he said, leaning back on his hands, looking completely at ease.

You hesitated, taking a seat carefully next to him. “I just like coming here time to time. I like having my own time to think about stuff. The bits of silence here eases me.”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then he nodded, as if your answer satisfied him enough.

“What about you?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself.

He shrugged, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “Needed some air. Couldn’t stand being around people for a while.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “You? Needing space from people? That’s hard to believe.”

“Don’t act like you know me,” he said, his voice carrying a sudden edge.

“I don’t,” you admitted, tone getting softer. “But you make it pretty easy to assume.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and for a wild moment, you thought you’d pushed too far. But then he let out a breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “You said that last time, but fair enough.”

Silence. It started to lightly drizzle, the droplets cold against your body. You shivered but stayed where you were, the thought of walking away feeling strangely wrong.

“So when you said you like to come here and think,” he said, breaking the silence. “I'm guessing that means you like to think about how you think you're better than everyone else.”

Your head snapped toward him, eyes beadily staring at him. “Excuse me?”

Rafe smirked, but there was something darker behind it. “You’ve got that look on you. Thinking as if you’re too good for this place, all snotty and haughty.”

You laughed, the sound dry and humorless. “That’s rich coming from you. Having no worries about life, money, and other shit. Looking down at everyone else.”

The smirk faltered, just for a second. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t?” you pressed, being unable to stop. “Life's easy because you have the money. You have lots of friends. You think the world owes you something just because your daddy’s loaded.”

He stared at you, his jaw tight, and for a moment you thought he was going to fire back. But instead, he let out a short, bitter laugh.

“You think it’s that simple?” he said, his voice quieter now, almost bitter.

You frowned, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. “What are you talking about?”

Rafe stood, brushing his hands on his jeans as he turned to face you fully. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you? The spoiled rich kid who’s never had a real problem in his life.”

“Well, am I wrong?” you challenged, though your voice had lost some of its heat.

He shook his head, a forced smile tugging at his lips. “You have no idea.”

For the first time, you noticed the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders seemed to carry more weight than they should. Though it didn’t excuse his behavior (certainly not), it certainly made you pause.

“Then?” you asked, your voice quieter now. “I wanna know. Tell me about it.”

Rafe hesitated, his gaze flicking toward the water. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost like he didn’t want you to hear.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to live up to someone else’s expectations? To know that no matter what you do, it’s never going to be enough? And you always have to do something fucking reckless to get someone's attention?”

Your breath caught, the rawness in his voice catching you off guard. You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing, letting the silence stretch between you two.

“Didn’t think so,” he said finally, his tone sharpening again as he turned away.

“Wait,” you said before you could stop yourself.

Rafe paused, glancing back at you.

“I didn’t know.” You hesitated, unsure of what to add. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, the motion almost dismissive. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” you said, surprising yourself with how much you meant it.

He studied you for a moment, his gaze searching yours like he was trying to figure out if you were messing with him. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he let out a long breath and sat back down next to you.

“You know,” he said after a long pause, “you’re not as tough as you pretend to be.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he said, leaning back on his hands, “you act like you’ve got it all together in life, but I don’t buy it. And it’s obvious you don’t.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. Because he wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t wrong at all.

“What’s your point?” you asked instead, your voice was much more defensive than you intended.

Rafe shrugged. “No point. Just saying it takes one to know one.”

Silence fell again, the rain now falling hard, soaking through their clothes.

“I come here to breathe,” you admitted over the long stretch of silence. "Not just to think."

Rafe glanced at you, his expression softer now. “Breathe?”

You hesitated. “Sometimes it just feels like the world’s too loud for me. It expects too much out of me, and I can’t give what it’s asking for. And if I don’t get away once in a while, it’s going to swallow me as a whole.”

For the first time, he didn’t have a quick reply. Instead, he nodded, as if he understood exactly what you meant.

“I get that,” he said finally.

You turned to look at him, your curiosity growing. “You do?”

His lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Yeah. I do.”

The honesty in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

“To be honest, I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” you said, more to yourself than to him.

“Maybe,” he said, his tone lighter now, “you’re starting to like me.”

You laughed, the sound genuine despite yourself. “Don’t push your luck.”

He smirked but didn’t press, and you two sat there in companionable silence. The sounds of the drizzling rain washing away some of the tension between you two.

The wind started to pick up even more. You glanced at the clouds, then back at Rafe. “You should probably head inside now. It’s going to pour soon.”

He smiled, a lazy, lopsided grin that sent an unwelcome warmth through your chest. “Is mystery girl seriously getting worried about me?”

“Not even a little,” you uttered, though the corner of your mouth betrayed a slight twitch of amusement.

Silence fell over again, the kind that wasn’t quite comfortable but wasn’t entirely hostile either. It was strange, being here with him like this. It’d been only three consecutive days where you had short conversations with him, yet now you were here having a conversation you could barely get out to anyone.

The sound of thunder rumbled in the distance, and you glanced at the sky again. “Seriously, you should go.”

“And leave you out here alone?” he asked, feigning mock concern. “What kind of gentleman would I be?”

“You? A gentleman?” you scoffed. “That’s a wild stretch.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “But I’m working on it.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you stayed silent, letting the silence stretch once again. This was okay. Silence and peace.

Rain started heavily pouring, the droplets cold against your clothes. You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“You’re really going to stay out here?” Rafe asked, standing and flicking the stub of his cigarette into the water.

“I’m fine,” you said, though your voice betrayed you.

He shook his head, pulling off his jacket and holding it out to you.

“I don’t need it,” you said, your pride flaring (but failing).

“Take it,” he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Reluctantly, you accepted the jacket, the fabric warm and surprisingly soft. “Thanks,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

Without a reply, he gave you a curt nod.

For a moment, you two were just there - under the rain, the tension between them shifting into something quieter, something neither of them could name.

“You know,” you started off, carefully standing up. “My house is nearby, you can dry off until the storm subsides.”

Rafe glanced down at your face with a teasing grin. “Inviting me to your house already? I don’t even know your name, mystery girl.”

With a quiet mumble you answered. “It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N. Well now I won’t have to call you mystery girl,” he chuckled.

Rolling your eyes, you asked in a more casual tone. “You coming?”

Rafe nodded with a smirk, following you.

As you two walked (quite quickly), your steps were falling into an unspoken rhythm. You realized something strange.

For the first time, being around Rafe didn’t feel like a battle. It felt like something else entirely.

And that terrified you.

NOTES. we finally get to see some rafeyn development 😊😊😊😊 THANKYOU for all the love and support omg. it hasn't even been a week and i've been already getting so many love for this series :') so excited to write the most false hope giving chapters ever..!

TAGS. @urbrunettebombshell @rafesfavouritegirl @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

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padfootagain · 22 hours ago

Text

Love in Verses (XXXII)

Chapter 32 : ‘How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! This is part 2 of The Party, we’re going through the same events, but from Y/N’s point of view!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3256

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Watching my friend pretend her heart isn’t breaking

On Earth, just a teaspoon of neutron star would weigh six billion tons. Six billion tons equals the collective weight of every animal on earth. Including the insects. Times three.

Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief – just a teaspoon and one might as well have consumed a neutron star. How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then. How impossible to believe that anything could lift that weight.

There are many reasons to treat each other with great tenderness. One is the sheer miracle that we are here together on a planet surrounded by dying stars. One is that we cannot see what anyone else has swallowed.

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

It was working, you were certain of it.

Frank was stealing glances in your direction, he wasn’t being particularly discreet about it.

George was good-looking, you had to give him credit for that. Good-looking and quite funny and charming. You genuinely laughed at one of his jokes, and he took it as permission to rest his hand on your arm. Your first thought was to push him away but you didn’t. That was the point. To make Frank jealous, so he would realise that he still wanted you. So, you let George run his fingers up your arm, his touch feathery. When you looked up, you noticed that Andrew was staring, saw him turning away in a hurry, reaching for a drink…

Samantha was with him now. Your reaction surprised you, you felt the distinctive pang of jealousy echo through your ribcage.

“How do you know our couple then?” George asked.

“I’m a friend of Frank’s,” you lied. “And you?”

“A distant cousin on Samantha’s mother’s side,” he explained with a humorous smile. “Pretty happy with the connection tonight, to be honest.”

“Yeah?”

“It means I get to talk to a very pretty woman, indeed,” he answered with a charming smile.

God, you wanted to throw up at that line… You couldn’t help but lean back, your face falling a little.

Frank was staring now, you could feel his gaze on you. When you looked past George’s shoulder, you noticed that Andrew was still talking with Samantha, his back to you. Still, you only had to wait for a couple of seconds for him to glance in your direction. You felt safer all over again, knowing he was watching over you, that he would help you get out of this mess if you needed.

You noticed that Samantha was standing closer to Andrew as well, that she touched his arm and that he let her do so.

Was your plan working? Was she trying to get closer to Andrew all over again?

How much you ached at the sight…

In a flash, you pictured Andrew kissing her, touching her, and you felt nauseous all over again. Worse than George’s intentions, the image of Andrew being with her…

You noticed that George had been talking, but you hadn’t been paying attention to his words, had no idea what he was on about. You faked interest, but when he moved closer again, you took a full step back… Andrew didn’t see you doing that, he was talking with Samantha…

You were surprised when Frank’s voice suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. And indeed, Frank was now walking towards George and you, but he didn’t seem to pay you any attention. He turned to George instead, pushing you out of the conversation. You felt invisible then, you could only stare at Frank while he ignored you so completely.

If always felt like you were heard and seen whenever you were with Andrew…

“Hi! Oh, I’m such a terrible host, I don’t think we’ve met before,” he said with a polite smile. “I’m Frank.”

“George. One of Samantha’s cousins…”

“Oh, yes! Of course! How lovely to have you, thank you for coming! And on such short notice, I know everything happened kind of quickly between Sam and I.”

You clenched your jaw at his words as you were pulled right back into the whole mess of your breakup, of his rejection, of him calling off your wedding just to announce his engagement to someone else…

All this was so fucked up… and now he was talking to this guy like you weren’t even here, like you didn’t matter, like you hadn’t been together for six years…

Your eyes drifted on their own accord beyond the two men talking before you, to reach Andrew’s tall figure on the other side of the room. Would he ever behave like this towards you? Would he ever be able to do something like that to anyone?

And what were you doing, trying to make Frank jealous? You thought about all that had happened, how Frank had shattered your heart, your self-esteem, all traces of love you had been putting in your relationship. All you took for granted in this world crumbled when he left, when he cancelled your wedding. You had spent years waiting for a proposal, had accepted to remain engaged for a year and a half because he wanted to focus on his career, when he didn’t care about yours. And then he was breaking up with you like it didn’t matter, like there was nothing in your love worth fighting for. He threw it all away for a woman he had met a few weeks before… and you were trying your best to get a man like that back?!

What the fuck were you doing?!

And Andrew was standing right over there, with his ex, that asshole you dreamt of punching in the face for how poorly she had loved him and treated him at the end of their relationship. But you weren’t better, trying to slither your way back into Frank’s heart.

Was it worth it?

Was Frank really what you wanted?

You hadn’t paid much attention to Frank and George, and their casual chit-chat. You were surprised when Frank took a step closer to George, seeming almost menacing now. He said something, but his voice was too low for you to hear him. Still, it seemed to work, as George left, without sparing you a glance.

Frank finally turned to you, a smile he thought must have been charming on his lips, but you saw the syrupy side of it; how it seemed too sweet to be savoury, too good to be true.

“You’re alright, babe?”

Babe… you thought of all the times he had called you that before, and you couldn’t help it, couldn’t refrain your want to hear it again… you had thought he would spend his life calling you that.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you nodded.

“The guy seemed to be bothering you.”

“I could handle it, but thank you.”

“No worries. You know you can always count on me.”

Could you? For what? Count on him for what? Breaking your heart?

God, it was working… you couldn’t believe it was working… Frank had come running to the rescue, he was giving you the attention you had been seeking, so why were you not falling for him all over again? Why weren’t you happy about his reaction?

You glanced over at Andrew. His cheeks were flushed, you guessed partly because of the empty glass in his hand and the way he glowered at Samantha. He seemed so angry, you had never seen him like this…

What was going on?

“Thank you for coming tonight, it means a lot,” Frank said, and you forced yourself to focus on him again.

“Of course. I said I would come to the wedding, so…”

“Yeah, but… you’ve been of great help and… I’m glad we can remain friends despite everything that happened.”

Everything that happened because of you, Frank…

“Yeah…”

You should have added something about you not caring about the past, or about caring about him anyway… but you didn’t feel like it was the truth.

“Saw that you came with Andrew, too! I’m glad you two are getting along. I take it that it’s going well at work?”

“Yeah, it’s going great,” you nodded. “Andy has been of great help when I arrived, he’s explained how all the administrative stuff worked, and helped me around the campus as well. Even if I studied there, there are many places I didn’t go to as a student, and the place is a labyrinth. And my research is going great! I’ve found an interesting article that I’ve discussed with Andy, and it’s been of great help for my own work…”

“That’s nice! Sounds great!”

It sounded like an encouragement, but he was still interrupting you. He sounded supportive and yet he wasn’t listening to you, because he didn’t care.

Andrew was right. He had been right all along…

“He seems like a nice guy, that Andrew,” Frank went on, and you narrowed your eyes at the sound of his tone. It sounded casual, but you knew to recognise a bit of mockery too, something poisonous in its undertone. “A bit boring, maybe.”

You let out a breathy, humourless chuckle.

“Boring? No, Andy’s definitely not boring. He’s a little shy, but he’s great fun once you get to know him. And he’s very smart, always has interesting things to say. And he’s just… nice. Really nice.”

Frank raised a surprised eyebrow.

“You almost make him sound like a catch.”

“He is one.”

Frank didn’t seem to like that answer, you saw how he clenched his jaw. You were surprised when he moved closer though, rested a hand on your waist. And you used to like that touch, but not right now. Right now you didn’t like it at all.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way.”

It was working. Your stupid plan was bloody working…

From the corner of your eyes you saw that Andrew was moving away from Samantha now, until he was drinking again and making a bee-line towards the exit. He walked by you, you noticed how he extended his fingers in your direction as he passed by, but he didn’t reach out. He walked out of the venue instead.

You moved away from Frank. Andrew seemed devastated and very, very drunk…

“I’d better go,” you mumbled.

“Wait, Y/N…”

“Andy doesn’t seem well, I should check on him.”

He chuckled.

“Who are you? His mother? He probably had too much to drink, that’s all.”

But he seemed to read it in your stare that there was more to it than that. He glared, but you didn’t care.

“I’ll go check on him,” was your only answer, before walking away.

You hurried after Andrew, leaving Frank behind. You didn’t look back, didn’t check his expression, didn’t try to guess if he was jealous, or considered what he was thinking. Truth was, you spotted Andrew again, staggering across a patch of grass near the parking lot, and you were too worried about him to care about anyone else.

“Andy!”

You called after him, and he spun around, tripping over his own feet. You reached out to steady him, even if you were a little too far to help. You hurried by his side, and noticed at once that he was indeed drunk. Very drunk.

“You’re okay?” you asked while you walked closer.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” but his voice was weak, almost shy. He was clearly lying, and not doing a very good job at it.

“Are you drunk?”

It was a stupid question, it was obvious that Andrew had been drinking too much. You still asked, and perhaps it was just to hear his voice again. It was soft, and kind, and warm… soothing. Filling up the air with something safe and quiet, instead of Frank’s booming tones.

“A little bit,” he admitted, averting his eyes in a sheepish way.

“Do you want me to take you home? I didn’t drink at all tonight…”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, opening and then closing his mouth. He stared at you, gaze intense and unwavering, and yet he seemed to see more than just you in that moment. Like he was playing a scene in his head, like he was getting lost in thought, even though his thoughts were about you.

He staggered, looked away to sit in the grass.

“I think I’m… gonna stay here for a couple of minutes,” he answered, voice distant and words slurred by too much whiskey.

He seemed sad. Sad and angry. You wanted to hug him, to wrap a blanket around him and tell him everything was going to be okay. Instead, you merely sat down by his side.

“You’re okay?” you asked again, voice gentle, caring.

He seemed to lean a little closer, but didn’t reach out, he folded his arms around his legs instead. And you hated seeing him like that, you knew what he was doing. He was shrinking, trying to disappear, trying to bend to conceal how tall he was, to hide, so that no one would notice him anymore. And you hated when he did that, because there was nothing in him worth hiding…

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Frank?” he asked, voice strained with pain, and you didn’t quite know what to do with that sound aimed at you.

Was he sad because of Samantha, or because of Frank? Perhaps both…

“You didn’t seem well,” you explained.

“I’m fine. This is your chance, it was working…”

You clenched your jaw, looked away. Andrew was right, it was working. Frank was being jealous, he was giving you the attention you had craved for… you could have used that opportunity to make him see how crazy it was for him to leave you for Samantha, and then to decide to get married after only a couple of months, to rush this wedding…

But you didn’t want to. Because Frank was never paying attention to you. This was another proof. It was all about him, and not about you. And there was Andrew, who was obviously in pain, obviously angry and sad and drunk, and… and he was still thinking about you.

You were a fucking fool, for still wanting Frank or… or rather, for convincing yourself that you still wanted him. Andrew was right, Frank was a fucking prick. And you deserved better than him.

“I’d rather stay with you for a while,” you breathed, something pained and aching in your voice.

Andrew’s gaze hardened, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. That his burst of anger that made his eyes darker than usual was not your doing. You took a moment to stare at him, to study his features bathed in the dim lights of the evening, a mix of orange streetlights, of silver moonlight, of white neon lights from the venue. He looked so handsome, despite his tiredness, despite his sorrow…

“I saw you talking with Samantha? What did she say?” you asked, changing subject, trying not to think of how much you wanted to run your fingers through his untamed curls, brush your fingertips across his cheekbone…

You saw him clenching his jaw and immediately regretted your question. But he seemed in so much pain, you insisted, asked again.

“What did she say?”

He shrugged. You didn’t mean to push him, but this was important. You knew he wanted to talk about it, you could read it in his eyes.

“She cheated on me with Frank.”

Your eyes grew round, you were too stunned for a moment.

The fucking bitch… she had cheated on Andrew?! What was wrong with this woman?! Was it really so hard to end things before moving on? How could she hurt him like that… God, you wanted to punch her straight in the face.

“He didn’t cheat on you,” Andrew hurried to add, and you guessed he wanted to reassure you, but the truth was, you hadn’t even thought of Frank, of the possibility of him cheating, you had to admit you didn’t care about it at all, you were too infuriated by Samantha. “It happened right after he broke up with you, but she hadn’t broken up with me yet… so technically…”

“What a fucking bitch…” you spat, and he was visibly surprised by the harshness of your words, so much so that he giggled.

“Yeah, you can say that.”

“I’m so sorry, Andy,” you breathed, reaching to rub his back.

“It’s okay. I just… I just want to forget her now.”

You nodded but looked away. You should be doing the same. Especially after tonight… but a part of you still wanted this life you had built for yourself. You realised then that you didn’t even want Frank, you wanted the life he had taken from you. You were not ready to grieve that part yet…

Why couldn’t you just… move on?

“So… I’m losing my partner in crime?” you joked, but there was something strained in your voice.

“I’ll still help you with Frank, that’s alright. If… if that’s what makes you happy…”

What would make you happy… You didn’t know what could make you happy now. You were too lost for that. Your past was haunting you too much for you to yield in your impulsive thought now, the one that could make you feel something. So, you just stared at Andrew’s lips for a moment, caught in a stillness you couldn’t free yourself from. You leaned closer, rested your head on his shoulder. He didn’t move away, let you rest your weight on him, like an anchor, something you could rely on. Better yet, he reached out, extended his arm until you were wrapped into his embrace, and he pulled you closer, gently, like he was afraid you would pull away if he let on how much he wanted to have you close. He didn’t seem to know how much you wanted him to hold you. And for a while, you bathed into his warmth, into the feeling of his hand on your arm, into his scent, into the soothing rhythm of his breathing. You felt so safe in his arms, sheltered, and you realised then that there had been few people with whom you could feel so safe, so free. You weren’t nervous about being vulnerable in front of him, you trusted him not to mock or dismiss your fragility. You trusted him to stay and listen, you trusted him not to hurt you. You trusted him not to leave you, not tonight, at least...

You tried to remember a time when you saw Frank this way, a safe haven. At the beginning, maybe. A little. That wasn’t fully true, though. You had always been worried that he would get bored, and leave…

“Let’s get you home, Andy,” you broke the comfortable silence that had settled around you, broke his embrace to get up. You offered him your hand and helped him up, let him lean on you while you walked to your car.

And you wanted to tell him about Frank, about how you weren’t so sure you wanted him anymore, and especially, about how you thought of him all the time. How you didn’t long to see Frank these days, but you couldn’t wait to go to work because then you would see Andrew. About how you had never been able to talk about what truly interested you with Frank, you realised that now… now that you could talk about all of it for hours with Andrew. How you wanted to hold his hand, and tug his hair behind his ear, and kiss his cheek, and kiss his lips. How you dreamt of him sometimes, which sounded crazy, but it was true. How you dreamt of him touching you, of him holding you, of him loving you. And you wanted to tell Andrew that you longed to forget about your exes, but you weren’t sure to be ready to admit the feelings you had for him, because then it would make you vulnerable in front of a man all over again, and considering how it had ended with Frank, you weren’t certain you wanted that once more…

God, you wanted him. You wanted to kiss him now, in the streetlights, even if he was drunk. But you were afraid, and so you didn’t.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier fanfiction #hozier fic #hozier series #hozier au #hozier professor au #professor au #fanfiction #fanfic hozier x fem!reader #fanfic #writing #series

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faithshouseofchaos · 17 hours ago

Note

I have another one! Jenson x wife reader. Christmas walk (any location you feel like my dear!) with snow falling from the sky and the dogs (idk what their names are)

Let it snow let it snow let it snow— Jenson Button x wife reader

Word count—501

Fluff

Tagged — @diaryofarandomkid

Jenson and his wife walked slowly through the snowy park, their breath misting in the air. The dogs tugged eagerly on their leashes, bounding ahead and sending sprays of snow flying with each enthusiastic leap. Jenson’s wife let out a soft laugh as one of the dogs, a big fluffy golden retriever, paused to dive nose-first into a snowbank, only to emerge with a snow-covered snout.

“Do you think they love the snow as much as we do?” she asked, glancing up at Jenson with a smile that was as warm as the cozy scarf wrapped around her neck.

Jenson chuckled, his voice carrying a familiar warmth. “If it means they get to drag us through the snow like a pair of sled dogs, I’m sure they love it even more.” He gave a playful tug on the leash, and the dogs responded with happy barks, tails wagging furiously.

They walked a little farther, crossing a small wooden bridge that was dusted with snow, and stopped to look out over the frozen pond below. The trees around them glittered with the frost, and the world felt like it was holding its breath. Jenson squeezed her hand a little tighter, and she looked up at him, the snowflakes clinging to her eyelashes.

“I was thinking,” Jenson began, his voice quieter now, “about last Christmas. How we got that tiny tree because it was all they had left.”

His wife laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she remembered. “Oh, I’ll never forget that! The poor thing was so small it couldn’t hold half the ornaments without falling over.”

Jenson grinned, his eyes shining with the memory. “But it was our tree. The best one we’ve ever had.”

“It was,” she agreed, leaning into him as they continued their walk. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than that Christmas, with the fire crackling and the snow falling outside. Just us and the dogs…”

Jenson’s face softened, his gaze lingering on hers. “I know what you mean. But I think this Christmas might just be even better,” he said, brushing a gentle thumb across her cheek, catching a snowflake that had landed there.

She smiled up at him, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the layers of scarves and gloves. “You always say that,” she teased lightly.

“And I always mean it,” Jenson replied, his voice full of affection. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, and she closed her eyes, savoring the closeness and the way the world seemed to slow around them.

The dogs tugged again, eager to continue their snowy adventure, and Jenson and his wife laughed as they followed, their footsteps leaving a single trail through the fresh snow. They walked on, side by side, talking about all the little things that made their life theirs—Christmas dinners, secret plans for gifts, and dreams for the coming year—while the snow fell softly around them, wrapping the world in a perfect, wintry hush.

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x you #f1 x y/n #faiths inboxes📥📨#formula one x oc #formula one x y/n #faiths Christmas fics🎄#jenson button #jenson button x reader #jenson button x you #jenson button fanfic #jenson button imagine #jenson button fluff

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starlightkun · 2 days ago

Text

⇢ word count: 37.8k total (22.7k & 15.1k) ⇢ genre: sci-fi/science fantasy au, soulmate au, alien!jungwoo, human!reader, slow burn, fluff and angst ⇢ warnings: blood/injury mentions, a couple needle/injection mentions, if u get secondhand embarrassment this one might hurt in places ⇢ extra info: this is the second part of a two-part fic, you need to read the first part to know what’s going on! this was released in two parts bc of tumblr’s 1000-block limit that was put in place to hurt me personally :)) ⇢ author’s note: and here’s part two! ⇢ part one

“What did I say before, hm? Finders keepers,” you declared, grabbing his other hand. “You’re not going to die as long as I have something to say about it.”

The screen of your phone lit up from where it sat on the dashboard of Jungwoo’s spaceship, and you immediately grabbed it. It was Donghyuck, and at this point, you would’ve taken your bestie ‘SPAM LIKELY’ to get you out of here.

“Hey, it’s Hyuck, you got it here?” You asked Jungwoo, already on your feet.

“Yes, I’ll be okay,” Jungwoo confirmed, eyes momentarily leaving the screen to meet yours.

You clambered out of the hatch with haste, taking off into the trees. Hastily sending Donghyuck a text that you’d call him back in a minute, you practically bolted back up the cliffside to get to the road before doing just that.

Hyuck picked up before it could even ring once, not wasting any time, “Hey, how’s our pet alien?”

“He has a name,” you retorted, still out of breath.

“He doesn’t seem to mind when I call him that.”

“He probably doesn’t understand how derogatory it could be. His language might not have a direct equivalent for the concept.”

“Yeah, whatever, how is he?”

“Fine. All of his wounds have healed.”

Your friend’s tone immediately shifted. “You sound weird. What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” You insisted.

“Y/N.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?”

“Sure.”

And so after explaining your situation to Donghyuck to the best of your ability, you waited with bated breath for his response.

“Oh my God, he’s going to lay his eggs in you,” he gasped.

“Hyuck! Gross!” You hissed, half-ready to hang up right then.

“I’ve seen enough alien movies to know where this is going.”

“Or watched too much weird porn.”

“You didn’t laugh at my joke, clearly you’re in crisis, sorry.” His apology sounded sincere.

You sighed, staring down into the trees below you that you knew contained a spaceship and spaceman that weren’t from here, that didn’t belong here. “I mean, he’s still fixing his ship to leave…”

“What if he plans on abducting you and taking you with him?”

“Stop it!” You scolded him again. “Jungwoo wouldn’t do that.”

“You seriously think he’ll just leave his mate behind?”

“You are way too comfortable saying that word.”

“This is not about my nighttime proclivities.”

“If I told him to, yeah, I think he would. He’s been super respectful, all things considered.”

“Okay… whatever…”

You were worried. Jungwoo had continued fixing his ship, but with each passing day, you swore he was looking worse again. He said his wounds had completely healed inside and out, but the pallor of his skin didn’t look right, he was moving slower again, and he didn’t eat as much at meals. You took a risk and took him there during the day today, not wanting to risk drawing out his stay on Earth any longer than necessary.

Just getting him down to the ship today was perilous, as he tripped going down the last of the hillside. A rock had cut his arm, thankfully not very deep, but the sight of the deep blue blood did nothing to calm your anxious mind. He let you take a second to use a first aid kit in the ship on him, but then was right back to business as usual, fixing his ship.

“How’s it coming along?” You asked, hovering over him worriedly as he sat on the floor, working on a panel under the control console.

“It’s almost done,” he informed you quietly.

“Jungwoo, you don’t look okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Is it the hydrogen? Or something else that you can’t get on Earth?” You went to press the back of your hand to his forehead. It was sticky with sweat, but simultaneously cold and clammy. “Shit, dude, you feel awful.”

“I’m—I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I just need to get back to-to Galaria.”

“Okay, yeah,” you nodded. “Let’s get you back. You said it’s almost done. What else do you need?”

“One of your friends is a mechanic?”

“Yeah, Yuta. He fixes cars.” You were slightly alarmed that he apparently couldn’t remember which one.

Jungwoo held out a long, thin black tube to you. “Could you ask him if he has something like this? Twice as long?”

“Of course! I'll go right now!” You took the tube from him. “You stay right here. Rest, okay?”

He nodded, leaning against the panel and shutting his eyes.

You ran into Yuta’s auto shop, skidding to a stop and nearly crashing into a bench and toolbox, drawing the attention of everyone in the shop. Every head whipped over to look at you, and Yuta pushed himself out from under a truck on the far side of the shop.

“Yuta!” You dashed over to him, ignoring the attempts at conversation from his coworkers as you ran by them.

“Off-limits, assholes!” Yuta yelled back at them before focusing on you again, grabbing a rag to wipe his hands off. “Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“It’s Jungwoo, he needs something like this, but double the length.” You held the tube out to him. “Do you have anything like it? I’ll pay for it.”

Yuta inspected it with a furrowed brow, and you dropped your voice even lower as the sounds of the auto shop rose again.

“Please, he’s-he’s really not doing well. I don’t know how much longer he can be here, Yuta. Something about Earth, it’s not good for him. I’m really worried.”

“Yeah, I would be if I were you.” Yuta handed the tube back to you, then crossed his arms over his chest. “I gave him a part just like that two days ago. He said it was the last piece he needed.”

“What?!” Your heart fell to the pit of your stomach.

“I gave him a new brake hose two days ago. Unless he blew it up again, this isn’t it.”

“I’ve got to go.” You took off towards the door of the garage. “Bye, Yuta! Thanks!”

“See you around!”

Something wasn’t right. You could feel it in the pit of your stomach as you looked down at the brake hose in your hands. You could feel it in the deep rumble of the pavement under your feet as you ran down the shoulder of the highway back towards the ship. You could feel it in your lungs as you sucked in air that smelled oddly smoky. There was no caution in your movements as you took the familiar path down into the trees. Sirens followed behind you from all directions, converging on the same place as you. But you had gotten there before them.

The ship pulsated with an energy you had never seen before, no longer dull dark metal, but thrumming with power, colorful bursts of light jumping from panel to panel. The reactors at the back that you had watched Jungwoo rebuild with his own two hands roared to life.

No friends to grab you and hold you back now. It was only you.

You lunged for the button that you knew would extend the ladder, throwing the hose to the ground so you could have two free hands to scramble up the side of the ship. At the cockpit, you held onto the top rung of the ladder as the ship jerked and lifted off the ground. You desperately hit the other button to open the glass hatch, dropping into the cockpit and pulling the dome shut with you.

Jungwoo was crumpled in a heap on the ground in front of the controls, not even in a seat. Thankfully, he took a small, shallow breath. The ship accelerated, throwing the both of you across the cockpit. You swore as your head impacted with the wall, and Jungwoo grunted as he hit another panel.

“What the hell is your problem, Jungwoo?” You chastised him as you rolled him over. “You tell me you’ve imprinted on me, then send me off on a wild goose chase so that you can leave without saying goodbye? And then you fucking pass out?”

“Y/N?” He mumbled, slowly blinking a couple times as he looked up at you. “That’s… you?”

“Yes, you dumbass,” you scoffed, pulling his head onto your lap as you were truly just relieved to see his eyes open again. “Now come on, don’t fall asleep on me again.”

“Mm… yes… it’ll be nice… I think… to die in your arms.”

“Christ, you’re so dramatic,” you rolled your eyes to not give away how fast your heart was beating, how sweaty your palms were, or that your hands were shaking with nerves. “You’re not going to die. You hear me? It looks like you’ve already put in directions back home, right? To Galaria? Please tell me this thing has autopilot.”

“Yes. Provided… there are no… unexpected emergencies…” He took several uneven, short breaths. “The ship… will take care of it…”

“Awesome. How often are there unexpected emergencies in intergalactic travel?”

Jungwoo was out cold.

You hung your head, letting out a deep sigh. “Cool. Great. Nice one, Y/N. Stuck on a spaceship that you don’t know how to fly. In space. With a half-dead alien. Stellar life choices, as always.”

You had no clue how much time had passed since you’d left Earth. There were no clocks—at least not ones that you could read—in Jungwoo’s ship, and your spaceman stayed knocked out, never coming close to consciousness. You got hungry at some point, but you couldn’t find any food, or least anything that you would risk eating this early. Maybe if it really felt dire. You hadn’t stocked Jungwoo up with supplies yet, you thought you had more time. Was he really planning on leaving like that?

A pleasant dinging came over the speakers of the ship eventually, reminding you of the sound that played over plane intercoms when an announcement was made. A computerized voice said something, but you realized you couldn’t understand it. You couldn’t make out a single word or syllable. It must be speaking Galarii. Nothing was flashing red, hopefully it wasn’t anything that required your assistance.

It felt like the ship was slowing down. You held onto Jungwoo’s lifeless body tightly to brace the two of you. He was still warm, and you took a small comfort in that.

With another jerk and cacophonous rattle, the ship touched down. You were pretty sure. The hum of the reactors died down, and it felt like the ship had finally stopped. Jungwoo let out a weak sound of pain in your arms, and you were on your feet.

You slammed your hand against the button to open the hatch with none of the grace that you’d seen Jungwoo use dozens of times. Tugging the transcoder off his neck, you put it on yourself before wedging your shoulder under his, planting your foot on a seat cushion, and heaving upwards with as much force as you could. Either the gravity on Galaria was different, you were having an adrenaline rush, or both, as Jungwoo’s body actually moved with you. You jerked both of you up onto the ladder, yelling in between deep breaths.

“Help!” Shove. “Help us!” Heave. “Help! Somebody!” Push. “Help!”

After the next jump, your head poked out of the cockpit. Immediately, you were met with winds that whipped your hair around and chilled you to the bone. You took as deep of a breath that you could, the frosty air feeling like knives in your lungs, to let out another cry, “Help!”

The lilac sky was barely visible through the snow that flurried around your face, sticking to your skin and hair. Two figures appeared through the snowstorm, approaching the spaceship, and you readjusted your hold on Jungwoo to lean his weight back on you to free up one arm to wave at them fervently.

“Over here!” You screamed. “Help us! Please!”

Jungwoo coughed, blue blood dribbling out of his mouth.

“Oh god…” You cupped his cerulean-stained cheek, panic flooding your heart as you saw the two figures stop in their tracks.

Heaving the two of you over the side in the quickest way you knew to get down, you slid down the ship, the fresh snow that had piled up breaking your fall about as well as Donghyuck had before. The impact rattled up your feet and knees, and you swore under your breath as you definitely heard something pop that had never popped before. Wrapping Jungwoo’s arm around your shoulders, you started dragging him towards the two figures.

“Hey!” You yelled out at them, glaring against the snow and wind. Tears streamed down your face as the wind battered your eyes, and your teeth were already chattering. “What the hell are you doing? He’s fucking dying! Help him!”

This finally spurred them into moving again, the figures rushing towards you once more. As they got closer, you could see that they were human-like—Galarii, presumably. They were bundled up for the weather, goggles and cloth masks obscuring much of their faces from you, but as they reached to take Jungwoo from you, a sudden fear seized you, and you jerked back from them at the last second, tightening your hold on him.

They must have been able to guess what spooked you, as one lifted up his goggles and pulled down his mask to let you see his face as he addressed you.

“I’m Kun. That’s my aide, Dejun,” he indicated to himself, then to the other Galarii. “I’m Jungwoo’s brother. Please.”

You looked between them for a moment, then nodded. They moved to each take one of his arms and loop it around their shoulders. You stayed close as they trudged through the snowstorm with him, your worried eyes staying on Jungwoo. Your feet were entirely numb, and you didn’t register when one of the caught on something under the snow until you were already catapulting forward face-first. Your hands were tucked under your arms, and you couldn’t get them out fast enough to break your fall. Kun thankfully had faster reflexes than you, and managed to catch you by the arm, leaving you suspended above the snowbank for a perilous moment. He jerked you back until you got your feet under you again, and you mumbled out a thank you that was muted by the winds. Looking over your shoulder, your knees nearly gave out again when you saw the trail of blue drops that Jungwoo was leaving behind.

Kun once again grabbed your arm, and you looked at him inquisitively, coming to a stop as they did. You were in front of a cliffside by the ocean, which was in fact a cotton candy pink, no buildings in sight. The sea spray stung your eyes, made them water up, and you did your best to cover them without entirely obscuring your vision.

Dejun approached the rock wall as Kun took on all of Jungwoo’s weight. You heard a faint groan, and you weren’t sure which of them it came from, but you moved to take over where Dejun had just been. Jungwoo was no longer warm.

Dejun touched his own pendant to part of the stone, and you swore you saw something glow, but that could’ve been the refraction of light off the waves into your pupils, you couldn’t be sure. An opening formed in the cliffside, and Dejun ushered the three of you in. As soon as you stepped in, it didn’t feel like you were underground, or inside a cliff. It just seemed like you were indoors. Sure, it was dim, but pleasantly so, like it was evening. It was also warm, which you were glad for. You readjusted your hold on Jungwoo, pressing your hand against his chest for some stability, the right side of his chest, desperately hoping that maybe you could feel his heartbeat finally. You couldn’t.

Dejun didn’t request to take Jungwoo back from you though his hands hovered around you uncertainly, as if he were about to. You weren’t sure if you would’ve let him this time. Instead, he simply led the way through the sprawling home you had found yourself in. You didn’t pay attention much to your surroundings, only enough to make sure you weren’t going to trip while you carried Jungwoo. Finally, you made it to a bedroom of some kind, and Kun motioned for you to put him down on the bed there.

Kun took off some of his outer layers, letting you see his face again for the first time since he found the two of you at the ship. Dejun reentered the room—you didn’t realize he had left—also no longer in his thick parka and carrying what must be a first aid kit, handing it off to Kun.

“What’s your name?” Kun asked, his eyes focused on the materials in his hands.

At first, you couldn’t talk, your throat too dry from the cold air outside. You desperately swallowed and coughed, then hoarsely said, “Y/N.”

Dejun poured you a glass of something from a jug in the corner, and you looked it over. It looked like water to you, and you remembered that Jungwoo didn’t seem put off by what water looked like on Earth. You took a tentative sip. Tasted like nothing. It soothed your raw throat a little bit, and you drank some more.

“My name’s Y/N,” you reiterated, then faltered as you looked at Jungwoo. “I’m… Jungwoo’s friend. He crashed on Earth, we were helping him get back. But then he started getting like this. You can help him, right?”

Kun gently tilted his brother’s head back and forth, the prevalent frown on his features only deepening. “Dejun, some help?”

The aide came over, and the two of them lifted Jungwoo’s shirt up over his head. You gasped when you saw some bruising on his back and side, presumably from when he hit the wall when you took off from Earth. But the two Galarii didn’t focus on that. Their attention was on his shoulders instead, having a hushed conversation between themselves.

“Is his shoulder okay?” You asked. “Is it broken or something?”

“His joint is fine,” Dejun reassured you.

“Oh, good.”

“Y/N,” he said your name quietly, eyes focused on your leg. “You’re bleeding. I think.”

You looked down at your still-numb extremities, registering for the first time that you had apparently been cut by something outside. Bright red dripped down the side of your left leg, and you held back the instinct to touch it in disbelief.

“Oh. Sorry.” You apologized, as you noticed a spot on the floor. “Uhm, do you have a band-aid?”

“Follow me, we’ll get it cleaned up and give you some new clothes.”

You looked at Jungwoo anxiously, where Kun was still tending to him. “I’m fine.”

“He’ll still be here, Y/N,” Kun promised. “I’m sure my brother would want us to take care of his friend too.”

Reluctantly, you went with Dejun into an adjoining room. After getting your cut washed out and a bandage applied, he fetched you some warmer clothes.

“Thanks, Dejun.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “Can I go back?”

“Sure. I’ll bring you some food.”

Stepping back into the room, you saw Kun cleaning up Jungwoo’s face and chest where his blood had begun drying.

“Can I help?” You offered tentatively.

Kun waved you over. “His head keeps lolling around. Can you keep him still?”

“Of course.” You sat on the corner of the bed, gently rearranging Jungwoo to cradle the back of his head with both your hands in your lap. Brushing some of his hair from his face, you took comfort in watching the shallow but steady rise and fall of his chest. “Is that better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“His iridophores don’t look right.” You stated, able to see the reflective patches on his cheeks and shoulders from this angle. “That’s what you’re worried about, right?”

Kun nodded. “Yes.”

“They’re… dull.” You kept your hands where they were. The realization did nothing to soothe you. “What does that mean?”

“I can’t say.”

“What can it mean?” You asked insistently, eye boring holes into the top of Kun’s head as he was bent over focusing rather intently on one spot. “On Earth, one symptom can mean a lot of things. What can dull iridophores be a symptom of?”

“We won’t know anything until he wakes up,” Kun reiterated, soaking and wringing out the washcloth one final time. His eyes met yours, his own iridophores glinting in the lights. “Please, I don’t want to speculate before then.”

“Fine. Okay,” you relented for now.

The Galarii’s gaze fell to the pendant around your neck. “That’s Jungwoo’s transcoder.”

You looked down at it as well. “Yeah. I figured I needed it more than him right now. You know, considering…”

“Has he explained to you how it works?”

“Telepathy. Which he told me is apparently very scientific to you all, and definitely not witchcraft,” you snorted.

Dejun entered, a plate of food in his hand. Kun nodded towards it for you. “Eat.”

You sighed, pressing your hand to Jungwoo’s cheek once more. He wasn’t ice cold anymore, but still felt clammy to the touch. Maneuvering his head back to the pillow, you moved over to the table where Dejun had set the food for you. It all seemed food-like, and if your attention wasn’t so focused on your spaceman, you were sure you would be much more enthralled by eating alien food right now. But you could barely even taste it as you wolfed down a few bites, then a few more when Kun was still carefully watching you. When he seemed satisfied that you were fed, you pushed the plate away.

“Full,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”

Dejun and Kun exchanged a look, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you know when he’ll wake up?” You asked. “Don’t you guys have like, doctors or something? Healers? I don’t know, any sort of healthcare?”

“His iridophores… doctors can’t help with that,” Kun explained, obviously choosing his words very carefully. “We have to see if Jungwoo will pull through on his own.”

“That’s it?!” You spat back, wide-eyed. Maybe your tone was a bit harsh, but you couldn’t believe that they apparently didn’t even need a real doctor to examine him to give a diagnosis like that.

“Y/N—”

“But he’s—He was fine just a few days ago…” You stared at him in disbelief. “We got ice cream…”

“I’ll have Dejun make a room up for you, Y/N,” Kun said, gently patting your shoulder as they moved towards the exit.

“Kun.” You grabbed his arm before he got too far. He turned around to look at you inquisitively. “I’m sorry. He’s your brother, this must be painful for you too. Really, I’m so sorry.”

He offered a melancholy smile, nodding. “Thank you.”

You couldn’t sleep that night, kept up thinking about Jungwoo. Finally, after too much restless tossing and turning, you got out of bed. Wandering down the halls of whatever cave house you were in, you turned your phone on. Of course you didn’t have service inside a cliff in another galaxy. Coming to a stop in some sort of open living space, you sat down onto something that you were going to call a loveseat, which overlooked a small pool of water that seemed to glow on its own. You stared at your zero bars, thought about Jungwoo dying, being on a planet in a galaxy far away from your friends and family, and for possibly the first time in your entire life, felt so lonely you could cry.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you buried your face in them, feeling so small and wanting nothing more than someone bigger than you to come in and make everything okay again. You dialed Johnny’s contact on your phone, just to hear the dial tone as the call didn’t connect, then dropped and hung up on its own.

You got the feeling that somebody else was there, and turned around towards the entrance. It was Kun, and he ducked his head sheepishly.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” He surmised.

“No.” You scooted to one end of the seat, offering up the empty space for him to join you.

“I can alter your device, to communicate with Earth,” he offered, gesturing to your phone, the screen of which was still lit up in your hand.

“You think so?” You asked hopefully.

“Yes. It will keep my mind busy, too.”

You placed it in his waiting palm. “Thank you!”

He looked at the glowing pond in front of the two of you. “Do you have places like this on Earth?”

“Kind of?” You said. “I think? Maybe? Is it some kind of uh, bioluminescence? Some bacteria or something that glow?”

Kun smiled. “Yes, exactly.”

“Cool. Funny, we have pink oceans too. Like, our whole ocean isn’t pink, but there’s small lakes and stuff that are pink like yours.”

“What color are your oceans, then?” He tilted his head curiously.

“Blue, like our sky,” you informed him with a grin. “Or, sometimes a greenish blue.”

“A blue sky…” He muttered, clearly trying to picture that. “I’m sure that fascinated Jungwoo.”

“Hey.” You looked at him inquisitively. “Is it really true that you don’t know who’s older?”

Kun chuckled. “It’s different on Earth, then?”

“Very.”

“Yes, Galarii children aren’t raised being called the older or younger child. Most families have their children very close together, so unless you remember your sibling being born, you typically won’t know which of you is older.”

“And school isn’t organized by age either.”

“No.”

“Huh.”

“Do you have a sibling?”

“An older brother, kind of,” you said fondly. “That’s who I was trying to call.”

Kun furrowed his brow. “He’s ‘kind of’ older, or ‘kind of’ your brother?”

“‘Kind of’ my brother.” You laughed. “Definitely older. We know that on Earth. And even if we didn’t, he remembers me being born, so…”

“Ah, you’ve known him for a while?”

“Friends for my whole life, yeah. He always knows what to do. Which is usually pretty annoying, but this time, I really need that.”

The Galarii with you nodded in understanding. “I don’t know everything, but I will do my best to let you speak with him.”

Kun rose to his feet.

“Kun.” You stopped him from leaving. “When humans are in comas, people say that they can still hear you. Is Jungwoo like that right now?”

“I think it will benefit him for you to spend time with him,” he agreed. “I’ll bring you your communicator once it’s ready. You should try to sleep tonight, Y/N.”

You offered him a smile. “Thank you, Kun. For everything.”

“Thank you for bringing him home.”

When you woke up, you couldn’t be sure if it was morning, but it was definitely brighter in the hallway outside your room. You were sure they had the lights set to mimic whatever the rhythm of Galarian days were like.

Jungwoo looked the same as when you left him yesterday, which was both comforting and disconcerting. He hadn’t gotten any worse overnight, but he wasn’t getting better. You pulled up a chair next to the bed, wringing your hands over your lap.

Feeling a little silly as you looked around the otherwise empty room, you said quietly, “Uh, hey, Jungwoo…”

He didn’t stir, and you poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you contemplated continuing. Eventually, you did. “I don’t… know what to say. My grandpa died when I was seven and when my mom took me to his headstone after, I never knew what I was supposed to say to it. Not that you’re dead, obviously… I-I was kind of relieved when I got older and my mom stopped taking me with her to visit him. I think that’s bad. But it felt like I always had to pretend to be as sad as her, which didn’t feel right to her.”

You readjusted how the covers settled on Jungwoo. “I wish you were awake, so I could ask you what sort of funeral traditions you have on Galaria, or if your grandparents are alive, or about your mom. I guess I could ask Kun that kind of stuff, but it wouldn’t be the same. I-I want to know about you.”

Time passed like that, you having a one-sided conversation with Jungwoo. Dejun sometimes stopped in to bring you meals and check on Jungwoo. After your second meal of the day, Kun entered the room, holding your phone out towards you. It looked the exact same as before, and you went to pocket it.

“It’s fine, Kun, don’t worry about—”

“Try it,” he urged you.

“Wait, you fixed it?” You took it back out, looking down at the screen. It looked normal, except you realized that that now it indicated that you had full bars. Honestly, you were expecting some kind of alien technology to be appended to it, and for the endeavor to take much longer. “That was fast.”

You once again tried to call Johnny, entirely unsure and uncaring of what time it was on Earth. This time, it rang.

“Y/N?!” His voice was a mixture of disbelief and fear when he picked up. You gave Kun a thumbs-up and darted from the room to properly take the call.

“Hey, Johnny…” You were already braced for the scolding of a lifetime, certain that he was well aware of where you were. Somehow, he always knew. Who knew how long you have been gone from home at this point.

“Y/N…” He took a deep breath. “Just come home safe.”

“I will, I will!” You promised hurriedly.

“I sprinkled into conversation with your parents your destination bachelorette trip already. So when you get back, you’ve got to figure out which one of your friends is getting married.”

Not if, when.

“Thank you, thank you.”

“Put Jungwoo on, I need to talk to him,” he demanded sternly.

Your throat nearly closed up as you thought of the scene you had just left, Jungwoo still passed out, his iridophores fading, untreatable even by Galarii doctors. “I can’t, he’s-he’s really bad. I don’t know what—I don’t know.”

“Hey, Y/N, it’s okay. Deep breaths with me now, alright, kid?” Johnny’s tone immediately softened, and he led you through a few deep breaths over the call. Once he seemed satisfied that you were a little calmer, he continued with the same soothing voice, “He’ll be alright. He’s back where he belongs, where people who know how to treat him can treat him. He’ll be fine.”

Tears spilled over your cheeks as you shook your head desperately. “They can’t, John. They can’t treat him. He’s—He’ll either get better or he won’t.”

“What?!” He asked incredulously. “He’s not a lame horse that needs to be put down. Who told you that? Put them on the phone.”

“I—” You sniffed and wiped your eyes. “Why do you care so much?”

Johnny sighed again, lowering his voice. “Look. You are stranded God fucking knows where. And as far as I’m concerned, Jungwoo is the only alien there that is going to want to get you home. So he can’t fucking die.”

You shuffled back into the room, thankfully spotting Kun still in there. “Do you have a transcoder?”

“Yes, is there something wrong with yours? I can understand you just fine.”

“No, uhm, Johnny wants to talk to you.” You indicated to your phone.

Kun raised his eyebrows, gesturing to himself. “Your brother wishes to speak with me?”

“Yeah. He’s a… doctor,” you half-fibbed. “He helped take care of Jungwoo when he crashed before. He wants to know how he’s doing. Will it work over the phone? The transcoder?”

Kun gestured for you to wait, then left the room for a moment, returning with a necklace similar to yours around his neck. The pendant was of a similar construction, but a slightly different shape and angles.

You quickly informed Johnny, “Okay, uhm, this is Kun, Jungwoo’s brother.”

The Galarii accepted the phone, and you helped him hold it correctly before he stepped out to take the call like you had. You kept your ears peeled for the worst, hoping Johnny stayed on his best behavior.

“Jungwoo, I hate this,” you kept talking to your spaceman in the meantime. “I hate not being able to do anything for you. I hate just having to wait, feeling useless.”

After some time, you heard footsteps outside the room, and quieted down before Kun reentered, holding your phone out to you.

“So… what did you guys talk about?” You asked hopefully.

“There may be one more thing we can try for Jungwoo,” Kun said, and you immediately got to your feet.

“Well let’s do it!”

He held out a hand to calm you. “It’ll have to wait until nighttime, I’m afraid.”

“What? What is—?”

“In the meantime, Johnny did mention that human bodies don’t naturally make the same painkillers that Galarii do. I apologize for not being aware of that.” Kun bowed his head apologetically. “Are you in any pain?”

“It’s fine.”

“He said you would do that as well, and to ask again. Are you certain you are not in pain? You cut your leg yesterday.”

You sighed, refraining from rolling your eyes at the man who really was just trying to be kind. “Fine. My head hurts a little, and my leg. And sort of everything.”

“Come with me, I can prepare you an injection. Johnny explained proper dosage and administration for humans.”

Reluctantly, you left and followed Kun to another room in the house. It appeared to be another bedroom, and he gestured for you to take a seat at a small desk. Papers were in neat stacks, and you looked around with both interest and eagerness to get this over with so you could get back to Jungwoo.

“Is this your room?” You asked as Kun pulled up a chair and opened a first aid kit of some kind.

“Yes.”

“Is that Jungwoo’s room that you have him in?” You watched him roll up your sleeve to wipe down your arm first. “Does he live with you?”

“When he’s on Galaria, yes.” Kun then brought out a small, clear bottle and syringe that looked remarkably like the ones back on Earth. “His ship is more-so his home.”

“His actual ship, right? The one he took this time was yours.”

The Galarii filled the syringe with a very small amount of medicine. “Yes. He doesn’t spend enough time here to necessitate having his own place.”

“So did you finish your paperwork?”

He nodded to the stacks on the desk next to you. “Does it look like I did?”

You laughed, and he reached for your upper arm. “Just let me know when you’re going to do it. My friend Yuta wanted to be a piercer in high school before he was a mechanic, so I have a lot of practice being stuck.”

“I already did it,” Kun informed you, holding a small piece of gauze to the site.

You looked down in disbelief. “Seriously?” And sure enough, there was an empty syringe on the table too. “Damn, I didn’t feel a thing. You’re good.”

Kun took the gauze off the injection site, a small drop of red blood on it. “You know, has anybody ever said that is a very alarming color?”

“I think that’s the point,” you chuckled. “To get your attention.”

“I see…”

“So what’s the other thing to help Jungwoo?”

“I have some work to get done before it.” He gestured to the papers again with a remorseful look. “How about you sit with him for now? I’ll let you know once we can get started.”

You bit your tongue to not take your frustration at the situation out on your host. “Alright. Thanks, Kun.”

Back in Jungwoo’s room, you froze when you were greeted by two big brown eyes blinking at you from the bed. Jungwoo seemed equally in shock as he rubbed his eyes, squinting at you uncertainly.

“Hey, you’re awake,” you breathed out in relief, feet finally coming unstuck so you could dart over to his bedside.

“Y/N?” He groaned and tried to push himself up into a sitting position.

“Easy, easy,” you murmured, urging him back down.

“That’s… really you?”

You offered him a smile, hoping he couldn’t tell how nervous you were. “Yeah. Crazy déjà vu, huh?”

Jungwoo looked down at his own hands. “I’m alive?”

“Yeah, you are. It was uhm… kind of scary for a while there,” you admitted quietly, taking his hand. Putting some pep into your tone, you added, “But I told you, remember? I said you weren’t going to die.”

“I thought I was hallucinating and dying,” he deadpanned.

“When? On the ship? You could’ve been, I don’t know. What did you see?”

“You. I thought I was hallucinating when I saw you.”

“Oh. No, I’m real.”

His mouth was set into a hard line as he asked, “Why are you here?”

“Because your ship’s autopilot worked and didn’t crash us into the ocean,” you teased.

But he didn’t even smile. “What…? Why would you do that?”

The smile dropped from your face as you turned confused. “Because I didn’t want you to die? Why are you… pissed at me? Is that it? You’re pissed?”

All the happiness that was bubbling in your chest had been soured with the unexpectedly hostile reaction you’d received from Jungwoo.

“You’ve never been in space— I—” He took a deep breath, once again trying to push himself up and succeeding this time as you didn’t stop him. You dropped his hand, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him carefully, still concerned with how weak he’d be after not eating or drinking for so long. “What if the ship had crashed? Exploded? What if it flew at speeds unsafe for humans? What if my ship didn’t protect you against radiation deadly to humans because it was built for Galarii? What if Galarii had much longer lifespans than humans and something that was a short trip for me was longer than your entire life? What if we made it here and you couldn’t breathe our air? What if—”

“None of that happened,” you insisted.

“There were any billions of things that could have gone wrong, that you didn’t know and you—”

“They didn’t,” you reiterated emphatically.

“What if they did? Because of a choice you made for me?”

You rolled your eyes and stood up, putting some distance between the two of you as you felt anger start simmering under your skin. “It wasn’t really a choice. It was… I don’t know, I just did it. But it was fine, so just stop, alright?”

“Why did you come with me?” Jungwoo asked knowingly.

“Why did you try to leave me like that?” You shot back.

He suddenly couldn’t look you in the eye. “I was dying, I had to get back home.”

“I know, I was trying to help you get back home,” you scoffed. “I mean, why did you trick me into going to ask Yuta for a part that you already had, so that you could leave me without saying goodbye? I was ready to let you go, Jungwoo—”

“Because hearing you say that would’ve actually killed me!” His chest heaved after his outburst, his eyes were a watery red as he continued, “And you… that would’ve hurt you. And I couldn’t stick around just to selfishly enjoy another moment of your time if it meant doing that to you. I figured the confusion wouldn’t have been as bad as watching me die.”

The two of you stared at each other for several tense, choking seconds as his words hung in the air. You clenched your jaw, chewing on your next words, ruminating on them, before you swallowed them back down, sharp and bitter.

“I need to take a walk, because if I stay in here, I’m going to say something nasty that I don’t mean,” you spat out instead.

Kun found you by the bioluminescent pond again, a normal-looking water feature by day. You were crouched by the water’s edge, listlessly watching the water lap at the cold stone floor you were sitting on.

“Jungwoo’s awake,” Kun said, standing just behind and to your right side.

“Yeah.” You swallowed. “You heard us fighting, I’m guessing.”

“I didn’t hear what was said, only his voice. The only way I could get him to stay in bed was by promising that I would check on you.”

“Jungwoo’s been out for a while, he should get something to eat, and drink—”

“Dejun is getting him food and water now.”

“Good,” you croaked, wiping at a tear that had collected at the corner of your eye. “God damn it…”

Kun sat down beside you. “You’re more than his friend, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I guess. I don’t know.” You picked at your fingernails to avoid looking at him. “He… you know…”

“Imprinted? On you?” The Galarii’s voice betrayed his awe.

“Yeah. I know it’s a big deal, like the big deal for you guys… but I don’t do that, so…”

“It’s been awkward.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“Do you have a… partner on your planet?” He asked sympathetically.

“Oh, no, it’s not that bad, thankfully,” you sniffled and laughed. “It’s not that I don’t like Jungwoo, or that I can’t see myself, you know… falling in love with him or whatever. It just feels like I’m at Point A and he’s already at Point X waiting for me to catch up. Like there’s this huge gap.”

“He’s not in love with you, if that helps,” Kun informed you.

You stared at him blankly. “Huh?”

“Ah, exactly what I thought. Jungwoo didn’t explain imprinting very well.” Kun nodded to himself. “It’s not… instant infatuation, or love, or anything like that. You’re aware, in the back of your mind, that theoretically anybody in the universe could be the person you spend the rest of your life with, right? There may be near infinite numbers of people that you could be attracted to? Hypothetically?”

“I haven’t really thought of it like that, but I guess, yeah.” Without Donghyuck here unhelpfully joking about eggs, you found the conversation much easier to process. Or maybe you were just becoming desensitized to the idea, you couldn’t tell.

“Jungwoo doesn’t feel that endlessness anymore. His infinity is just you now. He’s not in love with you, because he doesn’t know you very well, but he knows that the only person he could ever fall in love with for the rest of his life is you.”

“So I’m at Point A and he’s at like, Point G, not Point X.”

“If your analogy is translating correctly, yes.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, mind turning over one part of his explanation. “‘Could.’ You used the word could, unless the transcoder is being liberal with nuance here.”

“Well, yes. I don’t think this is getting muddied in translation. It’s not definite that he’s going to fall in love with you.” He tilted his head. “I think that’s what is making you anxious, right? Feeling as though you have no choice, something has already plotted your life for you?”

You nodded. “Yeah… I think it brings some people peace, doesn’t it? On my planet, a lot of people have a god of some kind that they think has a divine plan for them and their life. That… freaks me the fuck out.” You let out a breathy, nervous chuckle, wringing your hands. “I’ve never liked feeling trapped.”

“You could leave the planet. If Jungwoo knew it was your choice to leave him, I don’t think he would follow you. He would let you go,” Kun offered. “We have more ships. I would go with you, personally guarantee your safety.”

“Do Galarii have religion?” You avoided answering his question, the intensity of his gaze, looking up at whatever was creating false light in the cavern, unable to pinpoint its exact origin past the hazy glow above you. “Jungwoo never mentioned any sort of religious figure, or prayed or anything when he was injured… That’s kind of when humans would’ve. Prayed for their God to give them strength.”

He took your conversation shift in stride, “We have enduring superstitions, traditions, but no sort of organized religion, no.”

“So this imprinting, it’s not any sort of divine plan, or divine will? To you all? It just… is?”

“One of the superstitions we do have is that of the finder’s intuition.”

“What’s that?”

“If you’ve found something, whether you realize it or not, you found it for a reason.”

“Jungwoo said something kind of like that about imprinting,” you recalled. “He said that humans choose their partners, but Galarii find them.”

“Yes. So for him to have been in that ship in the first place, which was not his, so far from home, and crashed due to circumstances outside of his control, on your planet, only to meet you, and it just happens that he imprints on you…”

“I found him.” You let out a choked laugh, covering your face at the insanity of it all. Of course Jungwoo had no reason to doubt why he had imprinted on you. You practically told him it was meant to be without even realizing it.

“I’m sorry?” Kun obviously had no context as for why you were laughing.

“I found his ship after he crashed and pulled him out of it. I found him,” you were still laughing as you explained, wiping at a stray tear that eked out. You didn’t know if it was from humor or misery at this point. “I literally told him ‘finders keepers’ talking about why he was staying at my apartment.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Oh…”

“Why was Jungwoo… so bad? When I brought him back?” You still needed some kind of answer. “You made it sound like you weren’t going to be able to help him at all.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No.” You answered immediately. It was the same thing that made you get into his ship when it was taking off. Not imprinting, and not love… yet.

“I thought he was dying of a failed imprint,” Kun answered without hesitation.

“He can die from that?! And you were going to just let me leave?! Not just that, personally escort me out of the galaxy?! He’s your brother!” You shot to your feet, once again in utter disbelief at the conversation you were having.

“I never believed that you wanted to leave,” Kun replied simply. “I understand this is not entirely fair to you. But I do believe that you should understand the gravity of your situation. Again, he seems to be fine now.”

You ran a hand through your hair. “I mean—What the hell?! If we were to even like, be together in the future, if we had a fight he could die?! That’s fucking crazy!”

“No,” he reassured you. “The initial phases of an imprint are the rockiest. If it doesn’t take, a Galarii can die.”

“What causes it to… not… take?”

“Emotional turmoil, physical distance from the person they imprinted on, stress, any number of things.”

“But he’s fine now? You said he’s fine now?” You double-checked.

“Yes.”

“So it… took?”

“I believe so.”

“Okay, good.” You let out a sigh of relief.

Kun looked conflicted as he added, “I have a confession.”

You blinked at him. “…What now?”

“The injection I gave you, it wasn’t just for you,” he admitted. “I of course didn’t want you to be in pain, but for Galarii that have imprinted on non-Galarii, it’s been known for their physiology to sometimes mimic their non-Galarii partners. Johnny described to me how Jungwoo healed while on Earth and reacted differently to substances than he would have on Galaria. More human-like, from my understanding. And when he returned with a human…”

“That made you suspect that he had imprinted on me,” you finished. “But you injected me, not Jungwoo—And Jungwoo hates needles, and always knows where I am, so you thought he would’ve sensed me being in danger in his coma and woken up to protect me? Is that even how this thing works?”

“It’s not exact, what Jungwoo can sense… I doubt if I even injected you now, that he would know. Just, the feeling that something wasn’t right. An instinctual need to check on you.” Kun rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his ears flushing red. “I wasn’t sure if he had told you, and if I was wrong about the imprint, that would’ve been—”

“A horrible situation for all of us to be in, yeah, I understand.” You stared out at the water, thinking about how the one that you were in didn’t seem much better in that moment.

“You two have both been through a lot. I’m sure you’ll come to understand each other.” The Galarii stood up. “I’m going to check on my brother. Take your time, Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Dejun found you by the water again later in the day. He was carrying a tray of food, meaning that it must be dinnertime already. You hadn’t budged from your spot after your conversation with Kun earlier, thinking way too much about everything.

“Dejun, hey.” You held your chin up with the palm of your hand, still staring out at the water. “Nobody’s looking for me, are they?”

You didn’t specify who would be looking for you.

The aide approached, handing you a plate of food. “Jungwoo asked if you’re alright.”

“I wanted to give him and Kun time alone,” you fibbed. “You know, they’re brothers, it’s been a while since they’ve seen each other.”

“Kun had state matters to attend to, he took his dinner to his room.”

“Of course, right.” You nodded. “Dejun, can I ask you something? And feel free to tell me if it’s way too personal by Galarii standards.”

He arched an eyebrow curiously, but acquiesced nevertheless. “Sure.”

“Are you… Have you… imprinted on someone?”

He smiled just the tiniest bit, and shook his head. “No, not yet.”

“Okay, thanks.”

With that, Dejun nodded his head politely and took leave of the room. You could only eat a couple bites of the food before you let out a deep sigh and stood up. You found your way back to Jungwoo’s room easily, knocking at the open doorway hesitantly. He was sitting at the table eating, and you were happy to see that he was well enough to get out of bed.

Jungwoo looked over from his food, sitting up straighter when he saw that it was you. “Y/N.”

“Hey.” You gestured to the table with your full plate of food. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not.” He motioned to the chair across from him hurriedly.

You sat down, studying him under the lights as he went back to eating. “You look a lot better. Your iridophores… You look better.”

“Thanks.” He wiped his mouth. “I’m sorry for getting so upset earlier. I could’ve expressed my concerns in a more… productive way.”

“You just woke up from a coma, it’s understandable you weren’t all there,” you replied graciously. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for making sure I got back safe,” he said strongly, putting a hand on your forearm. “Kun told me what he knows, and I believe I’d be dead without you. Their sensors recognized that something that wasn’t Galarii had landed on the planet without permission, so they went out to investigate and found us. We landed in a snowstorm, and I was unconscious. If you weren’t with me, not only would they not have found us at all, but I would’ve frozen to death out there.”

“I was why you were dying in the first place, though,” you pointed out. He seemed to be at a loss for words, and you added, “You should have told me, Jungwoo. Back on Earth, you should’ve told me what was going on.”

“You’re right. You kept talking about wanting me to leave with good memories of Earth, I wanted to do the same, leave you with only good memories of me.”

“If you had really left me like that, I would’ve been worried sick for the rest of my life not knowing what happened to you,” you told him harshly. “And now that I know that you apparently were doing that knowing that you were just going to die… I don’t get it. I don’t get you, and I’m really trying to.”

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. You’re not so… careless. I don’t know how I could have ever thought that.”

You took another bite of food, listening to the sounds of both your breaths in the quiet air. “Could you hear me? When you were out? I-I was talking to you, I couldn’t do anything else, and it’s supposed to help humans who are in comas, so…”

“Nothing in particular, at least not that I can remember now.” Jungwoo shook his head, but there was still a pleased smile on his face. “But I don’t doubt that having you nearby helped.”

“So you also don’t know why you woke up?” You asked tepidly. “It wasn’t a… choice somehow?”

“I remember being on the ship on Earth with you, and then I woke up here. Everything in between… I don’t recall.”

“That’s okay.” You both had finished your meals, and you stood up from the table. “I should let you rest some more.”

Jungwoo surprisingly agreed to this, the exhaustion visible in his features. “I wish we could talk more…”

“Tomorrow,” you promised, offering your hand out for him to take. “We can eat breakfast together again.”

He stood up on shaky feet, and you shuffled back over to the bed with him, helping him back under the covers.

“Could you sit with me? Until I go to sleep?” He requested, gently grasping your hand.

“Of course.” You sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing a few stray pieces of hair out of his eyes.

“Your hands are even colder on Galaria, I think,” he commented, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Well shit, maybe it’s the frozen tundra outside,” you retorted.

“I… don’t mind…” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Sleep well, Jungwoo,” you murmured, stroking your thumb over the back of his hand.

You ate breakfast with Jungwoo as promised, happy to take part in this one little thing with him again.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, sitting with him at the table. He was already there with two places set when you entered.

“Better than yesterday, not as good as tomorrow,” he told you brightly. “How did you sleep?”

“Good, good.” You continued watching him carefully as he ate. “You really feel better?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then do you think… do you think it took?” You pushed some food around on your plate awkwardly. “Would you even know that?”

Jungwoo set his utensil down, easing back in his chair slowly. “Yes, I think it took. How does that make you feel?”

“I’m happy you’re okay,” you answered honestly. “The rest… Like I said, I’m trying to understand you, but I just don’t get it.”

“Ask me anything you’d like. Please.”

“I mean, doesn’t it seem unfair? That I’m apparently your soulmate, but you’re not mine?”

“Unfair to who? You or me?”

You faltered. “What?”

“I do understand how this would seem unfair to you—That I know that you’re my soulmate, but you don’t have that certainty about me,” he shook his head sorrowfully. “Yes, that must be terrible.”

“No, I meant unfair to you. You’re stuck with me. You don’t get a choice. But I do, I don’t have that sort of obligation to you,” you pointed out, shifting forward in your chair. “Doesn’t that make you… anxious?”

“Ah, I get it now.” Jungwoo nodded, a thoughtful look on his face as he too sat up. “Galarii find, humans pick. I wouldn’t want to take that choice away from you. I… understand now, how important it is to you. So, if you do pick me, that’ll be the happiest day of my life. And every day after that that you wake up and pick me again, will be the new happiest day of my life.”

He held his hand out on the tabletop between the two of you, palm up, a soft smile on his face as he looked at you. Not urging, not impatient. You knew he would withdraw it if you turned away.

“You’re really…” You kept looking between him and his hand, keeping your tone curious. “Finding was good enough for you?”

“Good enough?” He chuckled, not derisively but fondly. “It was even better than I imagined.”

“You were half-dead, when I pulled you out of that ship,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, I was.”

“Galarii find, humans pick,” you repeated. “Just like you wouldn’t want to take my choice away from me, it would be wrong to force a choice like that onto you… But isn’t inaction just as much of a decision?”

Jungwoo’s smile only grew. “If it is, it’s one that I already made. I hope you can respect that, just as I’ll respect whatever you choose to do.”

You placed your hand atop his, offering him a hesitant smile. “This is me choosing to try this out. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” He squeezed your hand gently. “Thank you. Once I’m better I’ll take you home and take you on real dates there. I promise.”

“So Galarii date too? I thought you guys would’ve just gone straight to moving in,” you joked, taking a bite of your food.

“No. I watched movies with Taeyong and Doyoung,” he explained. “Galarii spend quality time with their mate, yes, but the concept of going on ‘dates’ like humans to figure out if you’re compatible… we don’t have anything quite like that.”

“Of course those two took you to some sappy romantic movies,” you snickered. “I don’t need any big romantic public gestures, Jungwoo. Falling out of the sky and almost dying twice was plenty, I swear.”

“Your friends all said something similar.”

“They were giving you tips on how to flirt with me?”

“Yes. It seemed they were aware that I cared for you in some way…”

You burst out laughing, covering your face in embarrassment. “Oh God, I’m so sorry about them. Forget everything they said, whatever it was.”

“So, carnations aren’t your favorite flower?”

“Hold on, that’s real advice, who told you that?”

“Taeyong.”

“Okay, you can trust whatever Taeyong told you, and probably Doyoung, and maybe Jaehyun,” you counted them off on your fingers. “But forget everything that anybody else told you.”

“I will,” he agreed with a chuckle. “Some of it didn’t seem like very sound advice anyway.”

A couple days later, and Jungwoo was well enough to leave his room finally. The two of you walked around the house arm in arm, chatting about this or that.

“This is the longest I’ve been on Galaria in quite some time,” he mused.

“Kun said that you don’t stay for very long, so you don’t have your own place,” you said. “Don’t you get lonely? Not being around your friends or family?”

“Have you seen either of us have any visitors while you’ve been here? Aside from Dejun?”

“Well, no.”

“We don’t see other Galarii much during snow season,” he explained. “It’s less lonely out doing runs, actually. Interacting with customers, going to markets, busy cities… crash-landing on planets and being pulled from the wreckage by a beautiful human and her friends.”

“Smooth,” you giggled, bumping your shoulder into his as he smiled down at you. “But seriously, you guys don’t have tunnels connecting your homes or something?”

“Galaria’s crust is very thin compared to other rocky planets. We wouldn’t have the depth to build an elaborate system like that. At least not a very efficient one. Any transport that happens needs to be on the surface.”

“How do you all communicate during snow season then? Do you have phones too?”

“We have similar communication devices, yes.”

“How long is snow season?”

“Approximately half a Galarian year.”

You looked up at him curiously. “So what do you call the other half of the year, then?”

“We have two more seasons: Snowmelt, and newgreen.”

“I think I can guess what happens in each of those…” You joked.

“Do tell.”

“I think the snow melts, and then new green stuff grows.”

He chuckled fondly. “That’s the basics, yes.”

“But do you not have something between newgreen and snow season? Like a-a fall of some kind?” You were having a hard time wrapping your head around it. “We have four seasons for the most part: Spring, everything grows, kind of like newgreen I think; then in summer, it gets hotter but pretty much everything stays alive; then in fall it starts getter colder and things start dying off; then we have winter, and everything is dead or hibernating. Then it’s spring again and everything starts all over.”

Jungwoo listened with interest to your explanation before answering. “Snow season comes very rapidly each year. All the plants freeze at once in the first blizzard. There’s no time for a gradual decay like you’ve described.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you able to predict when the first blizzard is? Do you have like, meteorologists or something?”

“Yes, we’re able to narrow it down rather precisely and prepare.”

“And do most Galarii live alone like Kun?” You asked quietly. “I feel like if I was going to be stuck underground for half the year, unable to visit anybody, I might live with more than just one or two people.”

Jungwoo put a finger over his mouth, then nodded towards his room that the two of you had unwittingly looped back around to. He shut the door behind you, and you sat at the table together before he continued with your conversation, “Do you remember how I said my brother is controversial, not for any policies, but for something in his personal life?”

It felt like a lifetime ago, the first conversation you ever had. You nodded. “Yes.”

“Kun is very dedicated to his job.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“He doesn’t take many breaks, or attend social functions that are not required by his job, or, as you’ve pointed out, live with anybody except his aide and me, sometimes. Galarii typically do live in larger social centers during snow season. There’re no tunnels connecting these niches to each other, like I said before, but some can fit up to twenty or thirty people.”

“And you, Kun, and Dejun just have your own house,” you reiterated. “How would that make him so controversial that somebody would want to kill him?”

“Some Galarii see him as isolationist. Refusing to allow opportunities to find things. They believe it reflects poorly on his ability to lead.”

Your face screwed up with confusion. “But if you’re looking to find something, that’s no longer serendipity, that’s choice. That’s action. I thought the whole point was the inaction. Of you finding something when you weren’t looking?”

“Galarii have different interpretations of finder’s intuition, and what it means to ‘find’ something,” he sighed. “It’s a very small minority that see this as a flaw of his, but those that do feel very strongly about it.”

“Strong enough to try to kill him?” You felt like you were losing your mind trying to comprehend this.

“Apparently.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose before giving up. “You know what? Humans have definitely killed for much less; I don’t have any ground to stand on here.”

“That reminds me—I believe I’ll be well enough to take you home in two more days. I’m excited to show you my ship.”

“Really?” You focused him with a doubtful gaze. “I don’t want you pushing yourself for my sake, Jungwoo. I can wait.”

“Thank you. I assure you I’m being sincere. If I’m not at my best, that can pose a hazard to your safety.”

You sighed and put your head on his shoulder. “While I wish the reasons were a little more concerned for your wellbeing too, I appreciate the honesty.”

Jungwoo gently rested his head against yours. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Wanting me to live,” he said softly. “When you found me on Earth, when you brought me back to Galaria… Thank you.”

You picked your head back up to look at him incredulously. “What? Why would I want anything else? Why would I want you to die?”

“It’s very rare for Galarii to imprint on other species. And those who do, there haven’t been very many that take…”

“They died?”

“Yes.” He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with the material over his lap. “It’s even a common subject of Galarian stories. It’s… tragically romantic, to die so your mate can be happy with whoever they’re really in love with.”

You could feel the deep frown on your face as you listened to this. “But those are just stories. Characters live or die to explore narrative themes and emotions and societal concepts, not to be an example for real life.”

Jungwoo chuckled lightly, tracing a fingertip over one of the lines on your forehead, encouraging you to relax your face again. “That’s why I’m thanking you. You chose a different fate for me than the one I had accepted.”

“What did I say before, hm? Finders keepers,” you declared, grabbing his other hand. “You’re not going to die as long as I have something to say about it.”

“Immortality here I come,” he joked, caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers, then even lower, your jawline, your neck, until he picked up the transcoder from where it rested on your chest. He stared at it in wonder, as if it wasn’t his own piece of technology.

“You don’t mind, right?” You looked down at the pendant as well. “That I took your transcoder? I figured it would be easier for me to wear one than expect everyone else to…”

“No, of course not.” He dropped the jewelry again. “I’m just… very happy that it works for you.”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“They have to be specially made for the Galarii who is going to wear it. Galarii can’t borrow each other’s transcoders.”

“Does it have something to do with the telepathy?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “I’ve never seen someone be able to wear someone else’s transcoder successfully.”

“Not even Galarii that imprint on each other?” You asked curiously, habitually gracing your own fingertips over the device.

“No, not even then.”

“Maybe it’s a human thing.”

“Maybe,” Jungwoo hummed noncommittally.

Two Galarian days later, and you and Jungwoo were ready to go back to Earth.

“Thank you so much, Kun,” you hugged your host goodbye. “Please stay safe.”

He looked confused as he released you from the hug. “Aren’t I supposed to be telling you that?”

You patted his arm. “I mean it.”

“Very well,” he relented with a smile. “Thank you, and the same for you.”

After you and Dejun had exchanged your goodbyes, you saw that Kun and Jungwoo were still embracing, and stood off to the side to wait patiently. Kun seemed to be half-hugging and half-lecturing Jungwoo, cuffing him by the ear to pull him down to his height as he spoke on and on seriously, and Jungwoo nodded or gave a joking whine every so often.

“Kun’s older,” you leaned over to whisper to Dejun.

“You’re guessing?” The aide whispered back.

“You can call it a hunch, yeah.”

Finally, Kun let Jungwoo go, and he straightened up, fixing his clothes with the help of his brother. You and Jungwoo didn’t have very much in terms of luggage to take—Jungwoo kept his personal belongings on his ship, and you came with nothing but your clothes and your phone. Kun and Dejun had given you more appropriate outer layers for the tundra outside, as well as food and supplies for the flight back to Earth, but really your only souvenir was your now extraterrestrially-modified cellphone.

“Ready?” Jungwoo asked you, carrying the small knapsack of supplies on his back.

You pulled your goggles down over your face and gave him the best thumbs-up you could with the thick gloves you had on. “Ready!”

You caught just a glimpse of his eyes crinkling with a smile before he too put his goggles on. Jungwoo clasped your hand as Dejun reached out towards the smooth face of the front door. This time you were able to properly see as he touched his necklace to a small panel that reminded you of the buttons on their spaceships, and a small yellow glow emanated from where they connected. Then, the door slid aside, into the cavern wall. You and Jungwoo stepped out together, the door shutting silently behind you.

Keeping a tight hold to Jungwoo’s hand and arm, you followed him through the snow that had continued building up. There was none actively falling now, giving you a much clearer view of the lilac expanse above. Despite the sameness of the landscape, Jungwoo seemed to know exactly where he was going. You didn’t realize you had arrived anywhere specific until Jungwoo suddenly stopped at one specific hill, brushing aside some snow on a post. You couldn’t read the writing on it, but he seemed satisfied, pulling it down. A small hatch opened in the snow in front of you, and he quickly ushered you over to it. Gesturing for you to wait a moment, he dropped the pack down first, then climbed down after it. From the bottom, he waved you down. You slowly started lowering yourself down as well, Jungwoo waiting right there for you.

Buried under who knows how much snow, your eyes had to acclimate to the darkness again. You had found yourself in the rear of Jungwoo’s ship, and he closed the hatch back up after you before pulling you towards the cockpit at the front. It was a two-seater like the one that he had borrowed from Kun, but you could immediately tell there was a lot more of a personal touch to this one. It was sleeker, the controls looking newer than the other, and you saw the occasional knickknack, notepad, or even piece of clothing strewn about the cockpit. He moved a jacket that had been hanging off the co-pilot seat then gestured to it for you.

You sat down as Jungwoo started preparing the ship for takeoff, still thinking about the mounds of snow atop you. Taking your goggles and mask off like he had, you asked, “What about all the snow?”

“The energy generated from the ship’s reactors melts it by the time we take off,” he explained, continuing to flip switches and push buttons.

“Wow.” You watched him work with a practiced ease and focus.

Finally, he turned back around to you, leaning in close as he dug around in the seat for your seatbelt. He grinned as he buckled it up and tightened it for you. “Can’t forget—Precious cargo.”

You just shook your head and smiled as he laughed and sat in his own seat. After getting himself situated, you two were ready for takeoff.

Jungwoo looked over at you, offering his hand out to you. “Ready?”

You grabbed it, squeezing it tightly as you nodded. “Ready.”

“Let’s go!” He cheered, joyfully slamming his hand down on a button. A countdown started on the monitors and from the speakers, and this time you could understand the announcement. It counted down from 10, and on 1, the reactors changed from a thrum to a full-on blast, and like when you took off from Earth, the ground lurched out from under you again. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when you left Galaria, though, only when the reactors cooled back down to a hum.

You looked back over to Jungwoo expectantly. He unbuckled himself, a bright grin on his face. “We’re out of Galarian space.”

“Cool,” you breathed out, looking around the ship with wide eyes.

The Galarii started unbuckling you as well, pulling you to your feet. “Come on, I’ve got to show you around my ship!”

Maybe it was because you were in a different ship, maybe it was because you were no longer fearing for Jungwoo’s life, you couldn’t be sure, but the trip back to Earth felt a lot shorter than the trip to Galaria. This time, you directed Jungwoo to land on Johnny’s family farm just outside the city. Johnny’s parents were older and no longer kept livestock in one of the barns on the property, making it the perfect place to hide Jungwoo’s ship while it was there.

It was nighttime when you arrived, and Jungwoo effortlessly landed in the far-off field that you had been to many times when visiting Johnny’s grandparents growing up. He maneuvered into the open barn, and you were buzzing with excitement as he powered down the ship.

This time, he let you exit the hatch first, and you looked around eagerly, immediately spotting your two friends by the now-closed doors. You waved to Johnny and Jaehyun, sliding off the side of the ship to land easily on both feet.

“Johnny!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms around him first.

“Y/N, oh my God,” Johnny breathed out, crushing you to him so tightly the air was knocked from your lungs. “God damn it, kid, don’t do that again. Okay?”

“Okay, okay,” you coughed out your agreement, rubbing his back reassuringly.

“You’re late, you know that?” He continued scolding you even as he cradled the back of your head. “You said five days, we’ve been waiting here for two more days. I tried to call.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I tried to guess as best I could. The days must be more different than I thought,” you mumbled into his shirt. “My phone died when we were coming back. I’m sorry for worrying you. Thank you for waiting, John. Thank you.”

When he finally let you go, you were grabbed in a bear hug by Jaehyun. “I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N. We both are.”

“Thanks, Jae,” you let out a sigh of relief at being able to breathe a little better. “I missed you guys.”

“How are you doing, Jungwoo?” Jaehyun turned to the Galarii next. “Johnny said it sounded pretty bad, but you’re looking alright to me.”

Jungwoo nodded, the transcoder now dangling from his neck. “I’m healed now. Thank you, Jaehyun.”

“Good to hear, dude.” Jaehyun hugged him too. “Good to hear.”

“Thanks, Jungwoo.” Johnny offered his hand out for Jungwoo to shake. “I’m glad you pulled through. Really.”

“What did you tell your parents?” You asked Johnny nervously. “About the barn?”

“I said one of my friends was going to keep a boat here for a few days. Their knees aren’t good enough to come all the way out here, they won’t come looking.” He then looked at you pointedly, “You should make an appearance, Y/N. While you’re here.”

“Are they up now?”

He looked at his watch. “Yeah. Your parents are actually over right now.”

You grimaced. “Really?”

“Really.”

“So I get back from my destination bachelorette trip that I didn’t bother telling them about and have enough time to help move a boat into storage but not see my parents—Daughter of the year,” you muttered regretfully.

“You did this to yourself, kid.” Johnny patted you on the head.

“I know, I know.”

Entering the Suhs’ living room where your parents were playing a game of cards, you went around to give everyone hellos, your parents first, then Johnny’s. Jungwoo was introduced as a friend of Johnny and Jaehyun’s, and lingered in the darkness by the doorway. Jaehyun had provided him a ballcap to help hide his iridophores in the shadows as much as he could as you tried to keep your conversations with your families short and quaint.

“When did you get back, Y/N?” Your mom asked.

“Earlier today—It’s been crazy, sorry I didn’t text you, Mom,” you immediately apologized, kissing her head quickly.

“We picked Y/N up from the airport and got distracted with the boat,” Jaehyun rescued you, flashing a charmingly dimpled smile at the parents. “Our bad, sorry, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Who is getting married?”

“Uhm, Chaeyoung.” You quickly picked a friend that you had met in college to guarantee that your mom didn’t know their parents and therefore wouldn’t try to congratulate anybody behind your back.

She nodded. “Ahh…”

“Whose boat did you say it was, Johnny?” Mr. Suh questioned his son next. “It’s not Yuta’s, is it?”

“Oh, he’s been talking about getting one since high school, hasn’t he?” Johnny’s mom laughed.

“Yep, it’s his,” Johnny nodded along.

Your dad appraised the four of you. “And he couldn’t even help you all?”

“Well, it’s mine too,” Jaehyun once again came in for the save. “We went in halfsies on it after my promotion. He was busy tonight, so I just went ahead and moved it.”

“Jungwoo, isn’t it?” Mr. Suh called out to the Galarii.

“Yes, sir.” He hastily gave a polite bow, fidgeting with the ballcap under the older man’s gaze.

“How did you get roped into their three-ring circus?”

“Yes, it’s better to stay out of the line of fire, especially where our kids are concerned,” your dad chuckled.

“I don’t mind helping, really,” Jungwoo replied, gaze hesitantly skittering over to you. You gave him an encouraging smile.

Johnny’s mom patted your cheek then. “I’m sure our Y/N must be tired after that trip. We’ll let you all go.”

“Thank you, Auntie,” you said appreciatively, giving her a kiss on the cheek as well as you tried to escape with the other guys.

Before you could fully retreat from the room, however, your mom caught your hand. The two mothers exchanged a look as they gestured for you to stoop down to their level. You obliged.

“Keep an eye on that new one, sweetie,” Mrs. Suh rather obviously pointed to Jungwoo even as she whispered.

“He couldn’t take his eyes off you this whole time,” your mom added, just as hushed as her friend.

“Goodbye, Auntie.” you purposefully ignored their statements, giving them final hugs and kisses goodbye. “Goodbye, Mom.”

As the four of you walked from the front door to Johnny’s waiting car far down the dirt driveway, Jungwoo sidled up to you.

“May I uh… May I know what that was about?” He asked quietly. “When they pointed at me?”

You giggled, stopping to pull on his shoulder and bring his ear down to you. “They were warning me about you. Said you couldn’t take your eyes off me.”

Jungwoo chuckled breathily. “An acute observation.”

“They said I should keep an eye on you.”

“That makes me sound dangerous.”

“Well—”

“Hey!” Johnny called out from the end of the drive, standing at his car and spinning his keys around his finger. “Are you done?”

“I’ve got class tomorrow!” Jaehyun added, though the teasing was apparent in his tone.

“Coming!” You chirped back, starting down the driveway again.

Johnny easily navigated back to your apartment, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel to the melody playing over his speakers. He finally broke the peaceful quiet in the car as your building was approaching.

“So how long are my parents going to be housing the boat?” He asked dryly.

“Oh, uhm,” you and Jungwoo looked at each other uncertainly. “I’m not sure yet. A few days, maybe more. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine. Just let me know when he’s going back.”

“Right. Yeah.”

He put the car in park and got out to give you one more hug on the sidewalk in front of your building. Your friend let out a deep breath with you still in his arms. “I’m really glad you’re back, Y/N. I’m serious.”

“I know, John,” you replied, hugging him back. “Thank you.”

Waving to Jaehyun through the window, you and Jungwoo headed inside. Thankfully, you hadn’t missed your rent payment while you were gone, so you still had an apartment to go back to. Looking at the day on your phone, you realized that you’d normally have work tomorrow.

“I wonder if I’ve been fired,” you snickered to yourself, closing your front door behind Jungwoo. He looked back at you, clearly worried, but you waved his concern off. “I hated that job anyway.”

The Galarii peered out past your curtains at the full moon in the sky. “It’s late. You should get some rest.”

“I’m not tired,” you admitted. “I think Galarian days are longer or something.”

“Do you remember what you were going to say? In the driveway at Johnny’s parents’ home?”

“Hm? Oh, when you were asking me about what our moms said?” You stretched your arms above your head. “You were confused because they made your interest in me sound dangerous. You almost died because of it, why are you confused about that?”

“I understand how it can be dangerous to me, but that doesn’t happen to you.” He stepped closer to you, cocking his head in confusion.

You sat down on your couch, gesturing for him to sit with you. “To humans, it still can be. Falling in love with the wrong person, exposing yourself like that. It can get you hurt, physically or emotionally. Sometimes they’re a bad person, or sometimes you’re both good people with the right intentions, but it still goes wrong.”

Jungwoo’s eyes widened. “And you still choose to do this? Over and over?”

“Yes, we do,” you laughed. “What other choice do we have?”

In the late afternoon, after you and Jungwoo had finally woken up and eaten breakfast, you went out for a walk at the seaside. Taking a deep breath in, you reveled in the feeling of the warm rays of sun on your skin again.

“Look at that blue sky,” you beamed up appreciatively. “Actually, I think I’m just happy to see any sky again.”

“Really?” Jungwoo prompted you.

“After being underground for so long? Yeah, being in a wide-open space feels good.” You did a big spin with your arms open. The beach was relatively empty in the middle of the week with most everyone at work. “Don’t get me wrong, it was cool to see where you’re from.”

“I like it here too,” he agreed with a smile as you returned to his side, lacing your fingers with his.

“The guys want to get dinner later, by the way,” you informed him. “They’re also happy you’re not dead.”

“That’s kind of them.”

Up ahead was a familiar area of damaged palm trees and brush, slowly beginning to grow back. You pointed to it with a grin, “Look, it’s where we met.”

Jungwoo squinted against the sun, looking at the foliage with interest. “It is?”

“Yep. Looks a bit different in the daytime, huh? And without a spaceship in it?”

“And I don’t think we ever approached it from this side.”

“And there’s no cops.” You pointed out a nearby firepit as you passed it. “That’s where we were all hanging out when you crashed. We thought you were a shooting star at first. Hyuck told everyone to make a wish.”

“Is that a human custom?”

“Superstition, yeah. You’re supposed to make a wish on a shooting star.”

“What did you wish for?”

You grinned. “If you tell, your wish isn’t going to come true.”

“Ah, I see. My apologies.”

“But mine already came true, so there’s no harm in saying, I think.”

Jungwoo looked at you curiously as you continued.

“I wished for something interesting to happen,” you admitted with a knowing smirk. “And the interesting things haven’t stopped since.”

He burst into laughter, halting your leisurely stroll as he clutched his stomach. “S-Seriously?”

“Seriously.” You began listing them off on your fingers, “Alien spaceship crashing right next to us, alien inside spaceship being almost dead, alien declaring I’m his soulmate, alien almost dying again, going to alien’s home planet to keep him from dying, alien getting better and taking me back to Earth. Been pretty interesting.”

He was still laughing, squatting down to try to compose himself.

“So maybe it wasn’t an assassination attempt that made you crash,” you said humorously. “Maybe it was my super powerful wish.”

“But-But I was already crashing when you made that wish,” he pointed out through giggles. “You used my-my crashing spaceship to make your wish.”

“Ah, technicalities.”

Jungwoo stood up on shaky feet, and you offered him your hand to steady him. “I’m starting to think that human choice is a more powerful force than gravity.”

“Really?”

“Or at least your choices.”

You sighed, grabbing his face with two hands to look him in the eye. “Jungwoo, you can’t just say shit like that.”

“Why not?” He asked, eyes carefully watching your expression.

“Because you just called me a cosmic force and that’s definitely the most romantic thing anybody’s ever said to me.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Because it makes me want to kiss you stupid on this public beach.”

His breaths trembled in the space between you. “There’s nobody here.”

“You make some good points.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, stopping before your lips met. “Jungwoo.”

“Hm?” His hands had settled on your waist, where they had been when you were dancing together.

“Is this okay? Can I kiss you?”

He swallowed, his eyes on yours as he hurriedly nodded. “Yes.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, slotting your mouths together finally. Jungwoo let out a hum of delight in the back of his throat, the curl at the corner of his lip apparent. His smile only continued to grow with each passing moment as you made good on your promise, bringing a hand around to cup his cheek.

When you dropped back onto flat feet again, he was standing there with a dazed, content smile on his face. His iridophores were no longer just glinting in the sun, they were fully pulsing with a soft, glowing light from under his skin, like a little heartbeat. You reached a hand up towards his cheek, and he stayed still as you traced over them in fascination. After a few moments, the glow faded away, and they were back to their normal reflective state.

“What was that?” You whispered breathlessly. “Are you okay—”

“I’m great,” he promised, taking one of your hands and kissing the back of it. “They’ll do that sometimes. When I’m really happy.”

“God, okay,” you relaxed. “It was like I really did have a fallen star in my hands.”

“If you say something romantic back, does that mean I get to kiss you stupid?”

“This is a concerning precedent I’ve set, isn’t it?”

“It’d only be fair.” He pouted.

You looked around, finding the beach still vacant of other patrons. “Alright, alright.”

After getting dinner with your friends, you and Jungwoo declined any rides offered, taking the long way back to your apartment.

“The guys were happy to hang out with you again,” you said brightly.

“Yes, it was nice to see them all,” Jungwoo replied.

“I can’t believe Hyuck asked you if you had tentacles though, honestly,” you shook your head. “He needs to keep that between him and incognito mode.”

“I take it he wasn’t being scientifically rigorous?”

You snorted, “No.”

You looked up at the navy blue sky, dotted with so few stars.

“What does the night sky look like on Galaria?” You asked Jungwoo. “I didn’t see it while we were there.”

“Many more stars,” he answered quietly. “I think because we don’t have any permanent light fixtures on our surface.”

“Ah, no light pollution. Must be nice.”

“It is.”

There was a comfortable lull in conversation, cars passing by and the distant sounds of city life continuing around you.

“You said once that you wouldn’t be happy behind a desk now that you knew that aliens existed,” Jungwoo recalled. “Since you’ve been to space and have come back home… Do you feel the same? Do you want to stay here?”

You tilted your head back and forth as you thought, still looking up at the stars. Finally, you answered, “While I was on Galaria, I needed to come home, to make sure everyone knew I was okay. And now that I’ve done that, I keep thinking about what we could’ve done on that trip if you hadn’t been, you know, dying.”

His voice was guarded as he prompted, “So you…”

“So if you’re asking me to come with you, Jungwoo, the answer is yes.” You looked over at him knowingly.

“Oh!” His iridophores were glowing again as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, vibrating with energy. “There’s so many places I can take you! You’ll love Irwon, and the lagoons in Til-Wyn, and I need to check that the Nightbringer’s Festival hasn’t happened yet!”

“Sounds like a date,” you grinned, hugging him back. “Several, actually.”

“And we’ll come back to Earth whenever you want. Say the word, and we’ll come right back for you to stay and see your loved ones for as long as you wish.”

“Thank you.” You took his hands as he let you go, catching his eye to tell him sincerely, “And I want to learn Galarii, too. So we can actually communicate, without one of us wearing your transcoder. Even if I speak with a silly human accent because I’m missing a flap or whatever.”

On top of the pulsing iridophores, you saw Jungwoo’s eyes get misty, a tear spilling over on one cheek as he was absolutely beaming down at you.

“Jungwoo are you crying?” You asked in disbelief, wiping at it with your thumb as another fell from his other eye.

“I think I am, yes,” he nodded, feeling at his damp undereyes.

“Tears of joy, I hope?” You continued dabbing at his cheeks as you tried to comfort him through his apparently bewildering situation.

“Do humans do that?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

He smiled and nodded. “Then yes, that must be it.”

“Oh God, come here.” You pulled him back into your arms. “Seriously, what am I going to do with you?”

He sniffled, then supplemented, “Keep me?”

You giggled and pressed a kiss to cheek, right on his glowing iridophores. “I guess so. Finders keepers, after all.”

⇢ masterlist

TAGLIST

@bee-the-loser @giirlfriendd @ppddpjdr @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01 @tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69 @winkeuu

#jungwoo x reader #nct x reader #jungwoo #jungwoo imagine #bjnet #nct imagine #nct #kim jungwoo #jungwoo imagines #nct imagines #f: finders keepers #f: losers weepers #writing #text #mine #wooloved #bias tag #i: jungwoo

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brodygold · 2 days ago

Text

It Makes Sense

Inspired by @misctf and his post "Make It Make Sense". Be sure to check out his work too here!

Brody had just played the game of his life. As the captain and midfielder of the Golden Army, he'd pushed himself to the limit, scoring the winning goal in the last few seconds of the match. Every play, every pass, every movement on the field had just clicked. It wasn’t luck—it was strategy, precision, and heart. As the final whistle blew and his teammates rushed to celebrate, Brody couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. Tonight was his night.

The post-match celebrations began quickly, with the team planning their usual victory dinner. This time, it was Brody's turn to pick where they’d eat. He already had his heart set on his favorite fried chicken joint, but first, there was one last hurdle: a quick interview with Channel 3 News.

Channel 3 had been covering the Golden Army since the team’s inception, and Brody had been interviewed by Andrew, their dedicated sports reporter, dozens of times. The two had built a solid rapport over the years, a bond of mutual respect that often made the interviews feel more like casual chats. But as Brody walked toward the camera crew, something felt... off.

Instead of Andrew’s familiar face, a new reporter stood in front of the camera. The man was stiff and uncomfortable, his dark suit and neatly knotted tie completely out of place on the field. His expression screamed disdain, as if he’d rather be anywhere else.

Still, Brody approached with his signature easygoing smile. “Hey there, bro. Where’s Andrew?”

The man turned to him, his face twisting with visible disgust. “Andrew is sick, so I’m covering for him. My name is Zachary. And let’s get one thing straight—I’m not your bro, ‘bro.’”

The contempt in Zachary’s voice was palpable, but before Brody could respond, the cameraman started counting down. Zachary plastered on a fake smile as the broadcast began.

“And we’re back after another thrilling game of soccer, with the Golden Army emerging victorious once again. I’m here with Captain Brody, who scored the winning goal in the final seconds! Good to meet you, Brody.”

“Likewise. Glad to be here,” Brody replied smoothly, despite the lingering tension.

“So, Brody,” Zachary continued, his tone dripping with condescension, “my sources tell me you’re the one who designed the plays that won your team the match. How does a jock like you come up with such clever strategies?”

Brody chuckled, brushing off the thinly veiled insult. “It’s not that hard for me, really. I’ve always been the smart one in the group. Ask the bros—they’ll tell you.”

“A smart jock? Now that’s a good one!” Zachary laughed, his amusement clearly genuine this time.

“Well, it’s true. I’ve got a master’s degree in mathematics and statistics. But, to be honest, I found my true calling here with the Golden Army.”

Zachary’s smile faltered. “That… makes no sense! I only have a bachelor’s degree, and I’m a journalist! You can’t be both smart and a jock! You have to pick one or the other, like I did!”

Brody tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, if it means anything, I think you chose correctly, bro. Those arm muscles must have taken a lot of effort!”

Zachary blinked in confusion, but before he could retort, he felt a strange tingling sensation in his arms. His biceps began to twitch and swell, growing larger and more defined. The seams of his tailored jacket strained, and his sleeves rode up, exposing thick, powerful forearms.

“What the—” Zachary stammered, staring at his newly muscular arms in disbelief.

“And those pecs look ripe for bouncing, bro,” Brody added with a grin.

As if on cue, Zachary’s chest began to expand, his shirt straining against his growing pectoral muscles. The buttons popped off one by one, revealing a broad, chiseled chest. His tie slipped to the ground, now utterly unnecessary.

“What… what are you doing to me?” Zachary gasped, his voice wavering between fear and bewilderment.

“Just don’t worry about it, bro,” Brody said soothingly. “In fact, don’t worry about much of anything.”

At those words, something shifted in Zachary’s mind. His thoughts, once sharp and cynical, began to dull and soften. The ever-present buzz of worries and calculations faded into blissful silence. Why stress about things he couldn’t control? Why stress at all? His lips curled into a goofy grin.

“Huhuhu, yeah… guess you’re right,” Zach mumbled, his voice deeper and more relaxed.

Memories of his old life started to slip away. His prestigious journalism career, his wife, his kids—all faded like a distant dream. In their place, new memories formed: the camaraderie of the Golden Army, the joy of training with the bros, and the thrill of victory on the field. The idea of dating a woman seemed absurd now. Why would he ever want that when he had a whole team of hot bros to bond with? He could have them any time he wanted, after all

As the transformation completed, Zach’s outfit shifted. His starched dress shirt shimmered and morphed into a tight, golden soccer jersey with black details, the number 58 emblazoned on the back. His slacks became shiny gold athletic shorts, and his polished shoes turned into gold cleats. He looked every bit the part of a Golden Army player.

“How ya feeling, Zach bro?” Brody asked, his tone playful but laced with authority.

“Never better, Cap! You know I always feel great after a win, bro!” Zach flexed his bulging arms, his grin wide and carefree.

Brody smirked, giving Zach a hearty slap on the back. “Good to hear it, bro. Now let’s go grab some fried chicken. I’ll meet you on the bus.”

As Zach jogged off to join the team, Brody turned to the cameraman, who was still staring in stunned silence.

“Sorry about turning your news anchor, bro,” Brody said with a shrug.

The cameraman hesitated, then grinned. “Eh, it’s fine. He was kind of a jerk anyway.”

“Cool. Any chance I can get a copy of that footage?”

“Sure thing. I’ll have it sent to the stadium.”

“Thanks, bro.”

With that, Brody headed to the team bus, ready to celebrate the win with his bros and a big plate of fried chicken. Some people might have trouble reconciling his brilliance with his jock lifestyle, but he didn’t mind. He was always happy to help them make sense of it all.

#golden army #thegoldenteam #golden team #male transformation #soccer tf #jockification #nerd to jock #jock tf #male tf #hypnotised #straight to gay

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fioredeciliego · 2 days ago

Text

Sweet like Sin - Kim Minji x Fem!Reader

10k words

Y/N sat at a gleaming desk, absently twirling her quill as Archangel Gabrielle approached with her signature no-nonsense stride. A scroll materialized in her hand, glowing faintly with divine energy.

“Y/N,” Gabrielle began, her tone stern yet warm. “We’ve decided on your next assignment.”

Y/N perked up, brushing an errant strand of her halo-like light back into place. She loved assignments—they were her chance to guide humans toward a brighter path, to be the beacon of hope she was born to be.

Gabrielle placed the scroll on the desk. “You’ve been paired with a demon.”

The quill fell from Y/N’s hand, clattering onto the marble surface. “A demon?!”

Gabrielle nodded, the faintest hint of amusement in her usually impassive face. “Yes. Every demon gets a guardian angel. We believe this one has potential. It’s your job to bring it out.”

“But—but demons are incorrigible! They don’t listen, they don’t care, and they definitely don’t bake cookies for charity!”

Gabrielle raised a brow. “That’s why it’s your assignment, Y/N. You’ve always excelled in... stubborn cases.”

Y/N groaned, dramatically flopping her head onto the desk. “Fine. Who is it?”

Gabrielle unfurled the scroll with a wave of her hand, revealing an elegant name written in celestial script: Kim Minji.

Y/N squinted. “Never heard of her. Is she one of those fire-and-brimstone types? Or a sulky goth type?”

Gabrielle gave her a knowing smile. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Moments later, Y/N stood in the assigned meeting spot, a tranquil meadow just beyond the pearly gates. She fidgeted, wings twitching nervously. In the distance, a faint shimmer appeared, growing closer and more vivid until a figure stepped through.

Y/N stiffened.

The demon wasn’t at all what she expected.

Instead of horns and a tail or a shadowy aura of menace, Minji looked... adorable. She had shoulder-length dark hair that framed her youthful, smiling face, and her black outfit seemed more chic than sinister. She waved enthusiastically as she approached, her grin dazzling and completely disarming.

“Hi there!” Minji chirped, practically bouncing on her heels. “Are you my guardian angel?”

Y/N blinked, unsure how to process the sheer sunshine radiating off this supposed demon. “Uh... yes? I’m Y/N.”

Minji clasped her hands together, eyes wide with delight. “Wow, you’re even prettier than I imagined! I hit the jackpot!”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat, her wings fluffing involuntarily. “Excuse me?”

Minji giggled, clearly enjoying the angel’s flustered reaction. “Oh, nothing. So, what’s the plan? Do we go cloud-hopping? Maybe you show me how to play the harp?”

Y/N shook herself out of her daze, glaring at Minji. “This isn’t a vacation. I’m here to help you grow kinder and—hopefully—redeem yourself.”

Minji tilted her head, looking genuinely intrigued. “Redeem myself? For what? I haven’t done anything bad today. Unless you count stealing Gabriel’s chocolate stash last week. But honestly, he shouldn’t leave it lying around like that.”

“You stole chocolate from an archangel?!”

Minji shrugged, her grin cheeky. “What can I say? It was calling my name.”

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering to herself. “This is going to be a long assignment.”

Minji stepped closer, hands clasped behind her back as she peered up at Y/N with an innocent expression. “Don’t worry, angel. I’m sure we’ll get along great. I mean, look at us—we’re a match made in Heaven! Well, and Hell.”

Y/N shot her a pointed glare. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not here to be your friend. I’m here to do my job.”

Minji smirked, clearly undeterred. “Sure, sure. But I bet you’ll like me eventually. Everyone does.”

“We’ll see about that.”

As they began walking toward their first session, Y/N tried to shake off the uneasy feeling in her chest. Minji might be a demon, but her smile was far too warm—and far too charming—for Y/N’s peace of mind.

“By the way,” Minji said, glancing at her. “Do guardian angels always look this good, or am I just lucky?”

Y/N groaned. This was definitely going to be a long assignment.

Y/N hovered just above the ground, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. She scanned the meadow, her angelic senses on high alert. After the whirlwind that was Minji’s introduction, she’d spent the last few hours mentally preparing for whatever absurd antics the demon might pull next.

“This is fine,” Y/N muttered to herself, pacing in a small circle. “She’s probably plotting something. Maybe she’ll try to tempt me with—”

“Cookies!”

Y/N whirled around, her wings flaring instinctively. Standing behind her was Minji, holding a tray piled high with what appeared to be freshly baked cookies. The demon’s smile was wide and impossibly innocent, and the sunlight bouncing off her dark hair made her look far more angelic than Y/N was comfortable admitting.

“What,” Y/N said flatly, her gaze flicking between Minji and the cookies, “is this?”

Minji lifted the tray slightly, the smell of chocolate and caramel wafting toward Y/N. “Cookies! I baked them just for you.”

Y/N blinked, momentarily speechless. “You... baked cookies?”

Minji nodded enthusiastically, her grin never wavering. “Yep! I figured since it’s our first real meeting, I should make a good impression. I even used organic ingredients! You angels are into that, right?”

Y/N stared, trying to process the scene before her. “This has to be some kind of trick. Did you lace them with... I don’t know, sin or something?”

Minji gasped, clutching the tray dramatically to her chest. “How dare you accuse me of cookie corruption? These are pure, unadulterated baked goods. Scout’s honor!”

“You were never a scout,” Y/N deadpanned.

“Details.” Minji stepped closer, holding out the tray. “Come on, just try one. They’re not poisoned, I swear. Unless you’re allergic to deliciousness.”

Y/N hesitated, eyeing the cookies with suspicion. She wasn’t naïve enough to trust a demon, no matter how sweet they seemed—or smelled. But as Minji’s expectant gaze bore into her, Y/N found herself reaching out despite her better judgment.

She picked up a cookie, examining it like it was a cursed artifact. It looked... perfect. Golden brown, gooey chocolate chips, a sprinkling of sea salt on top. Against her will, her stomach rumbled.

Minji giggled, clearly pleased. “See? Even your celestial stomach knows what’s up.”

“Quiet,” Y/N muttered, breaking off a small piece of the cookie. She sniffed it, half-expecting it to burst into flames. When it didn’t, she cautiously took a bite.

The taste was heavenly.

Y/N froze, her eyes widening. The cookie melted in her mouth, the perfect balance of sweet and salty. It was, without question, the best thing she’d ever tasted.

“So?” Minji asked, leaning in with a hopeful smile. “What do you think?”

Y/N forced herself to swallow, quickly adopting a neutral expression. “It’s... acceptable.”

Minji’s grin grew wider. “Oh, come on! That was a celestial-sized bite of joy, and you know it.”

“It’s a cookie,” Y/N replied, striving for nonchalance. “Nothing more.”

Minji gasped, placing a hand over her heart as if wounded. “How dare you downplay my culinary masterpiece? That cookie could solve wars.”

“Or start them,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Despite her feigned indifference, Y/N couldn’t stop herself from taking another bite. She hated how good it was—and how much she hated that she didn’t hate Minji for it.

“Alright,” Y/N said after finishing the cookie, brushing crumbs off her pristine robes. “What’s your angle?”

Minji tilted her head, her expression genuinely confused. “Angle? What do you mean?”

“You’re a demon. There’s always an angle. Are you trying to butter me up so I’ll give you a glowing review? Or maybe you think if you act sweet, I’ll just ignore all your past sins.”

Minji’s smile softened, and she set the tray of cookies on a nearby rock. “Y/N, not every demon is out to manipulate you. Some of us just... like making people happy.”

Y/N arched a skeptical brow. “You’re saying you genuinely enjoy baking cookies for other people?”

Minji nodded, her gaze earnest. “Baking makes me feel calm. And seeing someone smile because of something I made? It’s the best feeling.”

For a moment, Y/N was taken aback. Minji’s words didn’t feel like the calculated charm of a manipulative demon. They felt... sincere.

“That doesn’t sound very demonic,” Y/N admitted cautiously.

Minji shrugged, her smile turning sheepish. “Yeah, well... I’m not exactly your textbook demon. I mean, I do my job—I tempt people, cause a little chaos here and there—but it’s not who I am all the time, you know?”

Y/N frowned, trying to reconcile Minji’s words with everything she’d been taught about demons. “If you don’t like being a demon, why not try to change?”

Minji looked away, her playful demeanor dimming slightly. “It’s not that simple. Once you’re marked as a demon, people expect you to act a certain way. Even if I wanted to... be different, it’s not like anyone would believe me. Except maybe you.”

The weight of Minji’s words hung in the air, and for the first time, Y/N felt a pang of sympathy for her assignment.

“Well,” Y/N said after a moment, trying to lighten the mood, “if you’re serious about changing, maybe start by not stealing archangels’ chocolate.”

Minji’s laugh was bright and melodic, a sound that caught Y/N off guard. “Noted. No more chocolate thievery. So... does this mean I passed the first meeting?”

Y/N sighed, glancing at the tray of cookies. “You didn’t set anything on fire or try to sell my soul, so I guess that’s a good start.”

Minji beamed. “I’ll take it!”

Y/N stood in front of the ominous-looking black door, wings twitching with unease. “So, this is your lair?” she asked, eyeing the ornate, gothic architecture with suspicion. “Why am I not surprised it screams ‘demonic chic’?”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover, angel,” Minji said, her tone chipper. She leaned against the doorframe, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “You might actually like it inside.”

Y/N crossed her arms. “I highly doubt that.”

Minji smirked, reaching for the handle. “Suit yourself. But if you don’t come in, you’ll miss out on my famous hot chocolate.”

“Hot chocolate?” Y/N repeated, her skepticism growing. “What kind of demon has hot chocolate in their lair?”

“The kind who knows how to live!” Minji chirped, pushing the door open with a dramatic flourish.

Y/N braced herself for the worst—screams of the damned, sulfuric smoke, grotesque decor. But as the door swung open, her jaw dropped.

Minji’s lair was... cozy.

The walls were painted a soft pastel pink, adorned with fairy lights and framed posters of serene landscapes. A plush couch sat in the center of the room, surrounded by mismatched but charming furniture. A fluffy white rug sprawled across the floor, and a collection of potted plants thrived in one corner.

“What... is this?” Y/N asked, stepping inside as if she were walking into an alternate reality.

“My humble abode,” Minji said proudly, kicking off her boots and flopping onto the couch. “Make yourself at home. Want a blanket? I have at least ten.”

Y/N blinked, unsure how to process the scene before her. “This doesn’t make any sense. You’re a demon. Where’s the fire? The brimstone? The souls writhing in agony?”

Minji propped her head up on one hand, grinning. “Oh, come on. That’s such a stereotype. Do you really think I’d live somewhere so depressing? I need good vibes to thrive.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “You’re telling me the underworld lets you decorate like this?”

“Not exactly,” Minji admitted, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Technically, I’m supposed to maintain the whole ‘demonic doom’ aesthetic. But I figured, why not make it my own? Life—or afterlife—is too short to be surrounded by gloom.”

Y/N shook her head, utterly baffled. She wandered further into the lair, eyeing the eclectic decor. A small bookshelf caught her attention, filled with romance novels, cookbooks, and what appeared to be a collection of glitter pens.

“Are those... scented candles?” Y/N asked, pointing to a shelf lined with jars labeled Vanilla Dream, Ocean Breeze, and Pumpkin Spice.

“Of course,” Minji replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You can’t have a cozy night in without candles.”

Y/N turned to Minji, hands on her hips. “How are you even a demon? You’re more wholesome than most angels I know.”

Minji sat up, crossing her legs beneath her. “Hey, don’t let the decor fool you. I can be very demonic when I need to be.”

“Oh, really?” Y/N challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Like when you bake cookies or steal archangels’ chocolate?”

Minji gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “That was a moment of weakness! Besides, I apologized for the chocolate thing.”

Y/N couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible in a charming way, right?” Minji teased, winking.

Y/N rolled her eyes but didn’t answer, instead continuing her exploration. She stopped in front of a cluster of framed photos on the wall, each showing Minji in various candid moments—laughing with other demons, posing with a giant plate of food, and even petting a golden retriever.

“Who takes these pictures?” Y/N asked, genuinely curious.

Minji hopped off the couch and joined her. “Oh, my friend Yeji. She’s a fellow demon, but she’s also really into photography. She says I’m her favorite subject because I’m so photogenic.”

Y/N studied the photos, noticing how happy Minji looked in every single one. It was hard to reconcile this carefree, radiant girl with the image of a scheming, malevolent demon.

“Do you ever take your job seriously?” Y/N asked, turning to Minji.

Minji tilted her head, her playful smile softening. “Of course I do. But that doesn’t mean I have to let it define me. Just because I’m a demon doesn’t mean I can’t have fun or be kind. I’ve learned to make the most of what I’ve got.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment, taken aback by the sincerity in Minji’s voice. “I guess I never thought about it like that.”

Minji grinned, nudging Y/N’s shoulder. “See? I’m not so bad once you get to know me.”

Y/N gave her a look. “Don’t push it.”

“Too late,” Minji said, grabbing a blanket from a nearby chair and draping it over Y/N’s shoulders. “Now sit down and try my hot chocolate. I guarantee it’ll change your life.”

Y/N hesitated but eventually let Minji guide her to the couch. Minji disappeared into the kitchen, and moments later, she returned with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and sprinkles.

“Sprinkles?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow as Minji handed her a mug.

“They make everything better,” Minji replied, plopping down beside her.

Y/N took a tentative sip, and to her annoyance, it was delicious. Rich, creamy, and perfectly sweet—just like everything else about Minji’s bizarrely endearing existence.

As they sat in comfortable silence, Y/N found herself relaxing in Minji’s presence. Despite her initial doubts, she couldn’t deny that Minji had a way of making her feel at ease—a rare feat for anyone, let alone a demon.

“You know,” Minji said suddenly, breaking the quiet, “I think we make a pretty good team.”

Y/N snorted. “We’ve known each other for less than a day.”

“Details,” Minji said with a wave of her hand. “I can already tell you’re going to be my favorite guardian angel.”

Y/N shook her head, hiding her small smile behind her mug. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” Minji said cheerfully, raising her mug in a toast. “Here’s to our weird little partnership.”

Y/N clinked her mug against Minji’s, still unsure what she’d gotten herself into—but for the first time, she didn’t mind so much.

Y/N paced in front of the long, gleaming table, her pristine white robes shimmering under the room’s ethereal light. Wings twitching slightly, she tried to focus on the lesson at hand. Across from her, Minji slouched in her chair, her legs casually draped over the side as she twirled a celestial quill between her fingers.

“First rule of angelic virtues,” Y/N began, her voice steady despite her growing frustration, “is selflessness. A true guardian must think of others before themselves.”

“Sounds exhausting,” Minji drawled, inspecting the feathered pen like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

“It’s not exhausting—it’s fulfilling,” Y/N shot back, her tone clipped. “It’s the foundation of everything we do as angels.”

Minji tilted her head, her lips curling into a playful smile. “Let me guess—you were top of your class in angel academy. The kind who turned in assignments early and reminded the teacher about homework, right?”

Y/N crossed her arms. “And proud of it. Those principles are why I’m here to help you.”

Minji let out a low chuckle, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re adorable when you’re annoyed, you know that?”

“I am not—” Y/N started, but Minji raised a hand, cutting her off.

“Relax, angel,” she said, leaning forward with a grin that could melt glaciers. “I’m just saying, maybe you could learn a thing or two from me.”

“From you?” Y/N repeated incredulously, her wings flaring slightly. “Learn what? How to make everything into a joke?”

“Close,” Minji said, tapping her chin as if deep in thought. “How to live a little. Let loose. You angels are so uptight with all your rules and halos.”

“I’m not uptight,” Y/N said defensively.

Minji smirked. “Oh, really? Then prove it.”

Before Y/N could ask what she meant, Minji grabbed a stack of perfectly organized training materials from the table and tossed them into the air. The papers fluttered down like snowflakes, scattering across the room.

“Minji!” Y/N’s voice was sharp, her eyes wide with horror. “What are you doing?!”

“Making things more exciting,” Minji said with an innocent shrug. She picked up one of the papers and held it like a victory flag. “Doesn’t this feel more... free?”

“This is chaos!” Y/N exclaimed, crouching to gather the fallen papers. “And it’s my job to fix it.”

Minji crouched beside her, their shoulders brushing as she reached for a paper. “Maybe that’s your problem, angel. Always trying to fix things. Maybe you should just... let go.”

Y/N paused, her fingers hovering over a page. For a brief moment, the warmth of Minji’s proximity made her thoughts stutter. She glanced sideways and caught Minji watching her with a soft, teasing smile.

“Stop distracting me,” Y/N muttered, looking away quickly.

“Admit it,” Minji said, leaning closer. “You’re having fun.”

“I am not—” Y/N began, but her words faltered as she met Minji’s gaze. There was something disarming about the way Minji looked at her, like she wasn’t just teasing anymore.

“You’ve got that little smile,” Minji pointed out, her own grin widening. “Right there.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed as she turned her attention back to the papers. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” Minji said softly, “you’re still here.”

Later, after the mess was cleaned up and Y/N had regained her composure, they moved on to the next lesson.

“Gratitude,” Y/N announced, trying to refocus the session. “It’s about recognizing and appreciating the good in your life.”

“I’m great at that,” Minji said, her grin returning.

Y/N gave her a skeptical look. “Really?”

“Of course.” Minji placed a hand over her heart. “For example, I’m incredibly grateful to have a guardian angel who’s so dedicated. And cute.”

Y/N’s wings twitched. “That’s not—”

“And I’m grateful for this lovely lesson, even if it’s a little... rigid.”

Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. “Gratitude isn’t about flattery, Minji. It’s about genuine appreciation.”

Minji’s smile softened, and for a moment, the teasing faded. “You mean like appreciating how hard you’re trying, even when I’m being... well, me?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in Minji’s voice. “I—well, yes. That’s... part of it.”

Minji leaned back in her chair, her gaze lingering on Y/N. “Then I think I’m starting to get it.”

Y/N didn’t know how to respond. The warmth in Minji’s tone left her feeling strangely unsteady, like she was standing on the edge of something she couldn’t quite see.

“Guess you’re not such a bad teacher after all,” Minji added, her grin returning. “But don’t let it go to your halo.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though the faintest smile tugged at her lips. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” Minji said, her voice low and teasing.

Despite herself, Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. “Heaven help me.”

“Remember, this isn’t a vacation,” Y/N said, glancing over her shoulder at Minji.

Minji twirled in place, arms stretched wide, her dark coat billowing like wings. “It’s not? With scenery like this, it might as well be. You sure we’re not on a date, angel?”

Y/N sighed. “We’re here to help humans, not to fool around.”

Minji stopped spinning and grinned. “I don’t know, Y/N. Humans seem pretty good at fooling around. Maybe I’m just fitting in.”

“Minji,” Y/N warned, her tone heavy with exasperation. “Please focus.”

Minji clapped her hands in mock seriousness. “Yes, ma’am. Focused and ready to spread some good vibes.” She paused, then nudged Y/N. “You know, for someone with wings, you sure are grounded.”

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. She needed patience—heavenly patience—to handle this mission.

Their first target presented itself in the form of a woman struggling to carry an armful of groceries while chasing after a particularly sprightly toddler.

“That’s perfect,” Y/N said, pointing. “We’ll help her first. It’s straightforward.”

“Straightforward?” Minji echoed, trailing after Y/N. “Helping someone while they’re also managing a tiny human tornado? Sounds like advanced-level heroics to me.”

Y/N ignored her, stepping up to the woman with a polite smile. “Excuse me, ma’am. Would you like some help with those bags?”

The woman turned, her frazzled expression softening. “Oh, thank you. That would be amazing.”

Y/N took two bags with practiced ease. Minji, eager to participate, reached for another but underestimated its weight.

“Whoa—!” Minji yelped as the bag tipped, spilling its contents across the path. Apples rolled into the grass, a loaf of bread landed in a puddle, and a can of soup wobbled precariously near a storm drain.

“Minji!” Y/N hissed, rushing to gather the scattered items.

“Oops,” Minji said, crouching to help. She grabbed an apple and held it up triumphantly. “At least this one didn’t bruise!”

The woman laughed, clearly amused despite the chaos. “You two are so sweet. Thank you for trying.”

As Y/N handed over the recovered groceries, she shot Minji a pointed look. “Maybe let me handle the heavy lifting next time.”

Minji just shrugged, her grin unrepentant. “Hey, at least I made her laugh. That’s helping, right?”

Their next stop was an elderly man sitting on a bench, fumbling with his shoelaces.

“I’ll take this one,” Y/N said firmly.

Minji raised her hands in surrender. “Go for it, angel. I’ll stay right here and admire your handiwork.”

Y/N crouched in front of the man, offering him a gentle smile. “Let me help you with that.”

“Why, thank you, young lady,” the man said, his voice warm and kind.

As Y/N tied the laces with efficient care, she glanced up to see Minji digging through her coat pocket.

“Here,” Minji said, holding out a wrapped candy to the man. “A little treat for your walk.”

The man chuckled, taking the candy with a twinkle in his eye. “Well, isn’t that thoughtful? Thank you, miss.”

Y/N stood, brushing her hands off on her coat. She gave Minji a wary look as they walked away.

“Candy?” Y/N asked.

“Hey, it’s the thought that counts,” Minji said, popping another candy into her own mouth. “Besides, he seemed to like it.”

Y/N sighed, but her annoyance was tempered by the warmth spreading in her chest.

The final test came when they stumbled upon a group of children gathered around a tree, pointing up at a small, frightened cat perched on a high branch.

“Oh no,” Y/N murmured.

“This is my moment,” Minji declared, already marching toward the tree.

“Minji, wait—”

But Minji didn’t wait. She grabbed the lowest branch and hoisted herself up, her movements surprisingly agile for someone so prone to tripping over her own feet.

“Hey there, kitty,” Minji cooed as she climbed higher. “Don’t worry, I’m here to save you.”

The cat hissed, its ears flattening.

“Be careful!” Y/N called, her wings twitching instinctively under her coat.

Minji waved a hand dismissively. “Relax, I’ve got—”

The branch beneath her foot cracked ominously.

“Minji!” Y/N shouted, her heart leaping into her throat.

“I’m fine!” Minji called back, her voice slightly less confident. She reached for the cat, managing to scoop it into her arms. “See? Easy—”

The cat swiped at her face, yowling loudly. Minji yelped, losing her balance. She slid down the trunk in a flurry of leaves and landed in an ungraceful heap at the base of the tree.

The children gasped. Y/N rushed forward, kneeling beside Minji. “Are you okay?!”

“Ta-da!” Minji said weakly, holding up the now calm cat.

The children cheered, running forward to take the cat from her. “Thank you, lady!”

Y/N stared at Minji, torn between exasperation and something softer, something warmer. “You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, helping Minji to her feet.

“And you love it,” Minji said with a wink, brushing leaves out of her hair.

By the time the sun began to set, the park was quiet, and Y/N and Minji found themselves sitting on a bench overlooking a small pond.

“You’re impossible,” Y/N said, though there was no real heat in her voice.

“And yet, here you are,” Minji said, leaning back and stretching her arms over the back of the bench.

Y/N glanced at her, the golden light of the setting sun catching in Minji’s eyes. She looked so out of place, yet somehow perfectly at home.

“Today wasn’t a total disaster,” Y/N admitted.

Minji gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Was that... a compliment? From my angelic mentor?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“No promises,” Minji said, her grin softening into something genuine. “Thanks for letting me tag along today. I mean it.”

Y/N’s heart did a little flip at the sincerity in Minji’s voice. She looked away, focusing on the rippling water. “You’re welcome. Just... maybe next time, try not to climb any trees.”

Minji laughed, the sound light and carefree. “Deal.”

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the world around them bathed in warm hues of orange and pink. Y/N felt something shift—something she wasn’t ready to name yet.

But as Minji leaned closer, nudging her shoulder playfully, Y/N couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this demon wasn’t so bad after all.

Minji’s lair, a surprisingly cozy space lit by warm, flickering candles. Plush cushions and quirky trinkets fill the room, making it feel more like an artist’s studio than a demon’s lair. Y/N sits on a velvety armchair, scribbling notes in her celestial journal. Minji lounges nearby, her legs dangling off the side of a sofa, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Hey, angel,” Minji said lazily, propping her chin on her hand as she rolled onto her side. “What’s got you so focused over there? Writing a love letter to the Big Guy upstairs?”

Y/N didn’t bother looking up from her journal, her pen scratching purposefully against the page. “I’m writing down all the ways you’ve tested my patience today.”

Minji let out a melodramatic gasp, clutching at her chest. “That many, huh? And here I thought I was being charming.”

“You’re something, alright,” Y/N muttered, glancing up to narrow her eyes at the demon.

Minji grinned, her sharp canines peeking out. “C’mon, Y/N. You’re no fun when you’re all work and no play.” She paused, her eyes glinting with a sudden idea. “Speaking of play... you haven’t noticed anything missing, have you?”

Y/N’s brow furrowed. “Missing?”

“Mm-hmm.” Minji sat up, looking far too pleased with herself.

Y/N hesitated, her hand unconsciously reaching up to the space above her head. Her fingers touched empty air.

Her heart sank.

“Minji,” she said slowly, her tone dangerously low. “Where is my halo?”

Minji’s expression teetered between guilt and amusement. “Oh, that? It’s safe! I promise!”

“Safe?” Y/N’s voice pitched upward as she stood abruptly, her journal falling forgotten onto the chair. “Where is it, Minji?!”

The demon tried to wave her off, but Y/N was already scanning the room, her sharp gaze darting from corner to corner. “I swear, if you’ve done anything to—”

“I hid it,” Minji blurted out, holding up her hands. “But only as a joke!”

“A joke?!” Y/N’s wings flared slightly, their usual ethereal shimmer pulsing with irritation. “Do you even understand how sacred a halo is?”

“I... uh...” Minji rubbed the back of her neck, looking sheepish. “No?”

Y/N groaned, pacing the room. “It’s not just some shiny accessory, Minji! It’s—ugh!” She spun to face the demon, her eyes blazing. “Where. Is. It?”

Minji flinched under the intensity of Y/N’s glare but quickly scrambled to her feet. “Relax, angel. It’s right here!”

She darted over to a cabinet, pulling open a drawer and retrieving the halo. It shimmered faintly in her hands, casting a warm golden glow over her sheepish face.

“See?” Minji said, holding it out like a peace offering. “Perfectly fine. No scratches or anything.”

Y/N snatched the halo from her hands, cradling it protectively. The moment it touched her fingers, she felt its reassuring warmth seep into her skin, calming the storm in her chest.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, her wings drooping slightly as the adrenaline left her.

“Hey, I said I was sorry,” Minji offered, her voice unusually soft.

Y/N glared at her, but there was less heat in her eyes now. “You don’t get it, do you? This halo isn’t just a symbol. It’s part of me. Tampering with it is like...” She paused, searching for the right analogy. “It’s like me messing with your... your horns or something.”

Minji tilted her head. “I don’t have horns.”

“That’s not the point!”

Minji’s shoulders slumped, her usual confidence dimmed. “I really didn’t mean to upset you, Y/N. I just thought it’d be funny. You know, lighten the mood.”

“Well, it wasn’t,” Y/N said sharply, though her tone softened when she saw the genuine remorse in Minji’s eyes.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The golden light of the halo cast their faces in warm hues, accentuating the raw emotions lingering between them.

Finally, Minji broke the silence. “You’re right,” she said quietly, her gaze fixed on the floor. “I don’t get it. I don’t get a lot of things about you... or this whole guardian angel thing.” She gestured vaguely between them. “But I’m trying. I swear I’m trying.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the vulnerability in Minji’s voice. She watched as the demon ran a hand through her dark hair, her usual mischievous energy replaced by something quieter, more uncertain.

“I’ve spent centuries being good at one thing—causing trouble,” Minji continued, her voice tinged with bitterness. “It’s easy. It’s what I’m supposed to do. But this? Trying to be better? Trying to be someone worthy of a guardian angel?” She shook her head. “It’s terrifying. And I guess... I use jokes to cover that up.”

Y/N felt her heart soften, her earlier anger dissipating like mist in the sunlight. “Minji,” she said gently, stepping closer.

The demon glanced up, her dark eyes filled with an uncertainty Y/N had never seen before.

“You’re not a failure,” Y/N said firmly. “The fact that you care enough to even try says more about you than you realize.”

Minji let out a soft laugh, though it sounded more like a sigh. “You’re way too nice to me, angel.”

“Someone has to be,” Y/N replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

They stood there for a moment, the tension in the room shifting into something lighter, warmer.

“You know,” Minji said, her usual playfulness creeping back into her tone, “if you keep looking at me like that, I might start thinking you like me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile that followed. “Don’t push your luck.”

Minji grinned, her confidence returning in full force. “Noted. But I’m still counting this as a win.”

“Of course you are,” Y/N muttered, though her tone was more fond than annoyed.

As Minji flopped back onto the rug with an exaggerated sigh of relief, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a small spark of hope. For all her flaws, Minji was trying—and maybe, just maybe, they were both learning something from each other along the way.

Y/N: “Alright, Minji. We’re starting simple. Hand this bread to that old woman. It’s an act of kindness. Easy, right?”

Minji: grinning “Piece of cake!”

Minji confidently strides toward the woman but trips on her own shoelaces. The bread flies out of her hand, soars through the air, and lands directly on a pigeon, sending feathers flying.

Old Woman: shocked “Good heavens!”

Minji: holding up her hands “I-I can explain! It’s… artisanal pigeon bread?”

Y/N: facepalms “We’re off to a great start.”

Minji turns back with a sheepish smile, while the old woman cautiously retrieves the bread and pats the dazed pigeon.

The celestial garden was tranquil, a lush expanse of flowers in shades of soft pink, lavender, and white. The air felt like it was laced with magic, as though the very atmosphere itself was imbued with a sense of peace. There were flowers that bloomed with each step, a testament to the care the celestial beings had for this space. Birds with iridescent feathers flitted through the trees, singing melodies that resonated with the purest notes of heaven.

But despite the serene beauty of it all, Minji was nowhere near as calm as the surroundings. Her shoulders were tense, and she had been pacing for the past several minutes, her footsteps light on the soft grass but full of restlessness.

Y/N watched her from a distance, her hands clasped behind her back, her gaze soft but observing. Minji’s usual playful demeanor was absent, replaced with a kind of anxiety that Y/N wasn’t used to seeing.

“Minji,” Y/N called out, her voice carrying through the quiet garden. “Are you alright?”

Minji froze mid-step, glancing over her shoulder to meet Y/N’s eyes. The playful, mischievous spark that usually danced in her gaze was dimmer, replaced by something Y/N couldn’t quite place. She straightened up, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Yeah, of course,” Minji replied, though her voice sounded strained. “Just thinking.”

Y/N frowned, stepping closer. “You’ve been thinking for a while now. What’s going on?”

Minji turned away slightly, looking down at her shoes, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. There was a discomfort in her posture that made Y/N’s heart twinge.

“I… I’ve been thinking about this whole ‘trying to be good’ thing,” Minji admitted, her voice quiet. “I know I’m supposed to be working toward becoming a better demon so I can go to Heaven, but it feels like… like I’m just not good enough. You know?”

Y/N’s heart ached at the sincerity in Minji’s voice. For all the jokes and playful teasing, Minji was still a demon, and demons were supposed to be bad. But Minji wasn’t like that. She was far from it.

“Minji,” Y/N said softly, walking up to her and gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to be perfect. You’re already more than enough just as you are.”

Minji blinked at her, the vulnerability in her eyes surprising Y/N. The words seemed to hit her harder than expected, and for a moment, she seemed unsure of how to respond.

“I know I’m not perfect,” Minji said quietly, her voice breaking just slightly. “But sometimes… I just wish I could be more than what I am. More than just a demon.”

Y/N’s chest tightened at the admission. She had known Minji was struggling, but hearing her admit it out loud made it all feel so much more real. The weight of the situation was sinking in, and Y/N wasn’t sure how to ease it.

“You’re already more than a demon, Minji,” Y/N said, her tone gentle but firm. “You’re kind, you’re sweet, and you have so much to offer. You just… you just don’t see it.”

Minji let out a breath, glancing away as she bit her lip. “It’s hard to believe that when all I’ve ever been told is that demons are supposed to be bad. It’s hard to believe that when I can’t even seem to get anything right.”

Y/N frowned, her hand still on Minji’s shoulder. She gently squeezed it, trying to offer comfort. “That’s because you’ve been listening to the wrong people.”

Minji looked up at Y/N, confusion written on her face. “The wrong people?”

Y/N nodded, smiling softly. “You’ve been listening to the voices that tell you you’re not good enough. But the truth is, you’ve always been good enough. You just have to believe it yourself.”

Minji stared at her, blinking slowly as the words sunk in. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. For a long moment, they just stood there, the weight of their conversation settling over them like a warm, invisible blanket.

Y/N didn’t know what else to say, but she didn’t need to. The silence between them was comforting, as if they both understood without having to explain it all.

Finally, Minji broke the silence, her voice small but sincere. “I’m really trying, Y/N. I want to be better. I want to be… I don’t know… worthy of something.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She could feel the sincerity in Minji’s words, the vulnerability that Minji rarely showed. It wasn’t easy for her to admit these things, and Y/N felt honored that she had.

“You are worthy, Minji,” Y/N said, her voice soft but steady. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You just need to be you.”

Minji’s eyes softened as she looked at Y/N, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Y/N replied without hesitation.

Minji’s expression shifted, something warm and tender flickering in her eyes. “You’re the first person who’s ever told me that. Maybe I can believe you, just this once.”

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat at the sincerity in Minji’s voice. She hadn’t realized how much Minji needed someone to see her for who she truly was, not just as a demon or a failure, but as a person.

For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, the air thick with something unspoken. The warmth in Minji’s gaze made Y/N’s chest tighten, and for a fleeting second, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, she was starting to feel something more for this clumsy, sweet demon who had wormed her way so deep into her heart.

Minji’s lips parted as if she were about to say something, but then she hesitated, glancing away nervously. “I, uh… I just… I’m really glad I met you, Y/N.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart thudding in her chest. “I’m glad I met you too.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Minji’s lips quirked into a playful grin. “So, does this mean you’ll finally admit I’m the best demon you’ve ever had?”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle at her persistence, the tension between them momentarily lifting. “You’re getting there, Minji. But I’ll need a bit more convincing.”

Minji’s grin grew wider, and Y/N could see that playful spark returning to her eyes. “I can work with that.”

Y/N laughed softly, but the warmth in her heart remained, a quiet reminder that she was beginning to care for this sweet, imperfect demon in ways she hadn’t expected.

And for the first time, she felt a little less like an angel tasked with saving someone and a little more like someone who might just be falling for a demon who was trying to find her way.

Y/N: “Alright, Minji, this is simple. We’re just going to help that little kid with his lemonade stand.”

Minji: grinning “Got it. I’m a professional.”

Minji, in her excitement, lunges forward—only to knock over the entire lemonade stand, sending cups and lemons flying everywhere. The kid stares at her, wide-eyed, as Minji awkwardly picks up a cup, trying to salvage the situation.

Minji: blushing “Um, it’s... uh... It's the thought that counts, right?”

Y/N: facepalming “I can’t even. Just, let’s go before we cause a lemonade disaster of biblical proportions.”

The human realm’s sky was a canvas of brilliant oranges and pinks, the sun dipping lower with every passing second, casting a warm glow across the meadow. Y/N found herself still standing beside Minji, her gaze lingering on the horizon, lost in the beauty of the scene. It wasn’t often she had the luxury of these quiet moments, especially not with a demon.

Minji, however, seemed more fascinated by the reflections in the sky than the tranquil scene itself. She stood with her arms crossed, her usual playful grin on her face, as though the sunset was just another background for the ongoing banter.

“So,” Minji finally spoke, breaking the silence with a lilt in her voice. “You like sunsets, huh?”

Y/N looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “That’s what you got out of all of this? Not the philosophical contemplation of life or the beauty of nature?”

Minji shrugged, her smile widening. “I’m a simple demon. I see a pretty view, and I think—‘Hey, nice view.’”

Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. “That’s one way to put it.” She turned her attention back to the sunset. “I guess I do like sunsets. They remind me that even after the toughest days, the world still turns, and there’s always something beautiful to look forward to.”

Minji turned to her, eyes glinting with mischief. “A little poetic, huh? I didn’t know I was assigned to an angel with such a soft side.”

Y/N felt her cheeks warm slightly, and she shot Minji a glance. “What about you, Minji? What do you think about sunsets?”

Minji leaned back slightly, contemplating the question with a furrowed brow. “Honestly? I think it’s the best time to sneak into a party.”

Y/N blinked, confused. “A party?”

Minji gave a teasing smile. “Duh. The sun’s setting, it’s cooler, and you can sneak in unnoticed. That’s like, demon 101.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at her absurd logic. “I don’t think that’s what sunsets are about, but okay.”

Minji smiled slyly. “Well, I’m all about the chaos, you know? I think life’s more fun when it’s unpredictable. You should try it.”

Y/N shook her head, her eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “I don’t know if I want to try your version of chaos.”

“Oh, come on. Just a little fun never hurt anyone.” Minji’s voice softened as she looked out at the sky again. “Maybe you could loosen up a bit. Life doesn’t always have to be so serious.”

Y/N crossed her arms. “I’m not that serious.”

Minji raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips curling upward. “No? I don’t know, you’ve got this whole angel thing going on. It’s kinda hard to imagine you cutting loose.”

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, Minji continued with an unexpected sincerity. “But I guess I do get why you like sunsets.”

Y/N paused, looking at Minji. “You do?”

Minji nodded, her eyes flickering over to meet Y/N’s. “Yeah. I think they remind me of... new beginnings, or something. The day ends, and even though it’s kind of sad, you know there’s always tomorrow. It’s like, a reset button.”

Y/N was surprised by how deeply Minji spoke, her usual playful demeanor giving way to something more thoughtful. “That’s... a nice way to think about it.”

Minji shrugged, a small smile playing at her lips. “I’m full of surprises.”

Before Y/N could respond, Minji’s voice lightened again, shifting the mood. “But I’ve gotta admit—if I was assigned an angel like you, I’d be pretty intimidated.”

Y/N tilted her head, curious. “Why?”

Minji grinned. “Well, you’re all virtuous and perfect, and I’m, you know, a mess.” She gestured vaguely to herself, as though the idea of her being a demon was self-evident.

Y/N laughed, unable to suppress it. “You’re not a mess, Minji.”

Minji smiled at her warmly. “You know, you’re probably one of the nicest angels I’ve met. But I think... I think I want to do more than just be nice. I want to be something more, Y/N.”

Y/N blinked, sensing the deeper undercurrent of what Minji was saying. “What do you mean by that?”

Minji hesitated, her voice quieter now. “I guess I want to show you that I can be good. That I’m more than just a demon, that I’m worthy of—” She cut herself off, not finishing the thought.

Y/N felt a tug in her chest at the vulnerability in Minji’s words. She stepped closer, her voice soft but steady. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, Minji. I’m here to help you, no matter what.”

Minji’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, it felt like the world around them stilled. “I know, but... I want to be better for you. And for myself.”

Y/N’s heart raced at the sincerity in Minji’s eyes. She didn’t expect this conversation to take this turn, but there it was—Minji, the demon who had been nothing but playful and mischievous, showing a side of herself that was raw and real.

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the words hanging in the air.

Finally, Minji broke the silence with a mischievous smile. “Well, enough of all that deep stuff. I’ve got something to show you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

Minji pointed toward a nearby bench where an elderly woman had just dropped her purse. “Watch this.”

With a dramatic flourish, Minji strutted toward the bench with purpose, ready to help. But as she reached for the purse, her foot caught on the edge of the bench, and she toppled forward, knocking the purse even further away.

Y/N couldn’t help but watch, wide-eyed, as Minji scrambled to pick up the purse, all the while giving Y/N a sheepish smile.

“I swear, I’m getting better at this,” Minji said, grinning from ear to ear.

Y/N crossed her arms, smirking. “If this is your idea of helping, I think we need a new plan.”

Minji stuck out her tongue, playfully unbothered by the failed attempt. “Hey, at least I tried.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but deep down, she couldn’t deny how endearing Minji’s clumsiness was. There was something about her sincerity, even in the face of failure, that made Y/N’s heart soften.

“Maybe next time, I’ll let you handle the helping part,” Y/N teased, her voice laced with affection.

Minji looked at her with a mischievous grin. “Oh, I’m pretty sure we both know who’s actually in charge here.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

Minji winked, stepping closer. “Yeah. But hey, let’s see who can be better at helping next time.”

Y/N shook her head, unable to hide her smile. “You’re impossible.”

Minji’s gaze softened, and she took a small step closer. “But you like it.”

And for the first time, Y/N couldn’t find it in herself to deny it.

Y/N: looking exasperated “Okay, Minji. The goal here is simple: just get the coffee order right. We’re helping someone, remember?”

Minji: enthusiastically “Got it. I’m a professional!”

Minji confidently strides over to the counter, only to slip on a spilled coffee bean, sending an entire tray of drinks flying. She spins around, eyes wide in disbelief.

Minji: “Well... uh, I still got the coffee to them, right?”

Y/N: facepalming “Minji, what is happening?!”

Minji: grinning sheepishly “Hey, I’m learning, okay?”

Y/N: laughing despite herself “I think we need a new approach. Fast.”

The celestial courtroom shimmered with ethereal light, the walls made of translucent crystal that refracted rainbows across the grand space. Y/N stood beside Minji, her usually composed demeanor fraying at the edges. She clasped her hands tightly, resisting the urge to reach out and give Minji’s arm a reassuring squeeze. After all, this was Minji’s moment to prove herself—not hers.

Minji, on the other hand, looked... well, like Minji. She shifted on her feet, her trademark grin masking the nervous energy practically radiating off her. Her fingers toyed with the hem of her jacket as if she were trying to channel her jitters into motion.

“Kim Minji,” Seraphiel called out, his voice resonating like a choir of bells. The head angel’s towering presence dominated the room, his six majestic wings folded neatly behind him. “You stand before us today to demonstrate what you have learned. Your task is not to impress us but to act with true kindness and compassion. Do you understand the gravity of this moment?”

Minji swallowed audibly, nodding. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good,” Seraphiel said, gesturing with one glowing hand. “Your trial begins now.”

The crystalline floor rippled like water, and the courtroom dissolved into a new scene: a quiet park in the human realm. Birds chirped in the trees, and the scent of blooming flowers hung in the air. On a bench sat an older woman, her posture heavy with sorrow. She clutched a small bouquet of daisies in her hands, her knuckles white against the stems.

Minji glanced at Y/N, her playful bravado slipping as genuine uncertainty crept into her expression. “What do I do?” she whispered.

Y/N tilted her head toward the woman, her tone soft but firm. “You listen. You help her, Minji. And this time, don’t think about how you look or what you’re supposed to say. Just... be there for her.”

Minji nodded, taking a deep breath before approaching the woman. She hesitated for a moment, then lowered herself onto the bench, leaving a respectful amount of space between them.

“Hi,” Minji said, her voice unusually gentle. “Are you okay?”

The woman looked up, startled by the interruption. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face lined with grief. “Oh,” she murmured, blinking at Minji. “I’m fine, dear. Just... remembering someone.”

Minji’s brow furrowed. She glanced down at the daisies, then back at the woman. “Someone important?”

The woman nodded, her lips trembling. “My son. He... he passed away a few years ago. Today’s his birthday, and I always bring him flowers.”

Minji felt a lump rise in her throat. She looked down at her hands, unsure of what to say. She had faced countless situations in her demonic existence—trickery, chaos, even outright danger—but nothing had prepared her for this.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

The woman’s gaze softened, though her sadness remained. “It’s kind of you to say that, but it’s okay. It’s been a while. I just... miss him, you know?”

Minji nodded slowly, her usual wit and humor nowhere to be found. “Yeah. I get it.” She hesitated, then added, “I don’t know what it’s like to lose someone, but I know what it’s like to feel like you’re not enough. Like you’re just... stuck with all these feelings, and you don’t know what to do with them.”

The woman’s eyes widened slightly, her expression shifting from sorrow to understanding. “That’s... that’s exactly it,” she said softly.

Minji bit her lip, her usual confidence completely replaced by vulnerability. She reached out, her hand hovering awkwardly before resting lightly on the woman’s arm. “I know I can’t make it better,” she said, her voice trembling. “But maybe you don’t have to carry it all by yourself. Even if it’s just for a little while, maybe someone else can help.”

The woman’s eyes filled with tears, but this time, they weren’t just tears of grief. She nodded, a faint smile breaking through her sadness. “Thank you, dear. That means more than you know.”

From her vantage point, Y/N felt a surge of pride so intense it made her chest ache. Minji wasn’t just fumbling her way through this trial—she was truly connecting with someone, showing a depth of compassion that even Y/N hadn’t fully expected.

As the scene began to dissolve, returning them to the celestial courtroom, Minji turned to the woman one last time. “Happy birthday to your son,” she said softly.

The woman’s smile widened, and then she was gone, the trial complete.

Back in the courtroom, Seraphiel rose from his seat, his expression unreadable. “Minji,” he said, his voice resonating through the space. “You have shown not only kindness but also vulnerability—a willingness to meet someone where they are, even when it is uncomfortable. You have passed this trial.”

Minji blinked, her mouth falling open slightly. “Wait... I did? I passed?”

Y/N laughed softly, stepping forward to stand beside her. “Yes, you passed, you ridiculous demon.”

A grin broke across Minji’s face, the tension in her shoulders melting away. “I knew I could do it,” she said, though the lingering disbelief in her tone betrayed her.

Seraphiel nodded once, his stern expression softening just enough to be noticeable. “You have a long way to go, but this is a promising start. Continue on this path, and you may surprise even yourself.”

As the courtroom dissolved, leaving Minji and Y/N alone in a quiet celestial hallway, Minji turned to her angelic companion, her grin now tinged with something softer.

“You were watching me the whole time,” she said, her tone teasing but her eyes warm.

“Of course I was,” Y/N replied, rolling her eyes. “I’m your guardian angel. It’s literally my job.”

Minji stepped closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Maybe. Or maybe you just couldn’t look away because you think I’m amazing.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, but she refused to give Minji the satisfaction of a flustered reaction. “Don’t push your luck,” she muttered, though her small smile betrayed her.

Minji chuckled, the sound light and carefree. “You like me, admit it.”

Y/N sighed, her smile widening despite herself. “Maybe a little,” she admitted.

Minji’s grin grew, and for a moment, the space between them felt charged with something unspoken. But then Minji pulled back, her expression shifting to something more genuine.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said softly. “For believing in me.”

Y/N’s heart swelled. “Always, Minji.”

Y/N: handing Minji a bag of dog treats “Okay, this one is easy. Just feed the puppies and make them happy. No tricks, no chaos.”

Minji: grinning “Puppies? Piece of cake!”

Minji kneels down and starts handing out treats, but one overly enthusiastic dog jumps on her, sending the bag flying into a nearby fountain. Chaos ensues as dozens of dogs dive into the water, barking and splashing everywhere.

Y/N: facepalming “Minji! How do you even manage this?”

Minji: shrugging sheepishly, now drenched and surrounded by soggy dogs “At least they’re having fun?”

The celestial bridge sparkled with an ethereal glow, its silvery surface shimmering as Minji took her first steps onto it. Above her head hovered the faint outline of a glowing halo—a symbol of her achievement and transformation. Around her, angels and celestial beings clapped politely, their approving murmurs echoing through the boundless expanse of stars.

Y/N stood off to the side, her wings glowing faintly with pride and relief. She had watched Minji grow from a bumbling, mischievous demon into someone who had not only embraced kindness but had become an embodiment of it. The sight of Minji, radiant with her new halo, made Y/N’s chest swell with a warmth she couldn’t deny any longer.

As the ceremony concluded, Minji walked over to Y/N, her familiar playful grin firmly in place despite the solemnity of the event. “So,” Minji said, tilting her head up to indicate the halo, “how do I look? Angelic enough for you?”

Y/N snorted softly, shaking her head. “You’re still you, Minji. Halo or not.”

Minji’s grin widened. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Come on,” Y/N said, motioning toward a shimmering portal that led to the Garden of Eden. “There’s something I want to show you.”

Minji followed without hesitation, her wings fluttering slightly with each step. As they passed through the portal, the lush expanse of the Garden came into view. Vibrant flowers bloomed in every imaginable color, their petals shimmering like jewels. A soft, golden light bathed the landscape, and the gentle hum of celestial energy filled the air.

Minji’s eyes widened in wonder. “Wow. It’s beautiful.”

Y/N led her to a quiet corner of the Garden, where a small stream trickled through a bed of glowing moss. They sat down together on a stone bench, the silence between them comfortable but charged with unspoken emotions.

“Minji,” Y/N began, her voice unusually soft. She stared down at her hands, unsure how to begin.

Minji tilted her head, her playful smile fading as she noticed Y/N’s serious expression. “Hey,” she said gently. “What’s on your mind?”

Y/N hesitated, then looked up to meet Minji’s gaze. “You’ve come so far. Watching you grow, seeing the way you’ve embraced kindness—it’s been incredible. But that’s not all.” She took a deep breath, her wings shifting slightly as if to steady herself. “Somewhere along the way, I realized that I... care about you. A lot more than I’m supposed to.”

Minji’s eyes widened slightly, her mouth parting in surprise. “Y/N...”

“I know it’s not exactly in the rulebook,” Y/N continued, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “But I can’t pretend anymore. You mean so much to me, Minji. More than I ever thought possible.”

For a moment, Minji was silent, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face—a smile so warm and genuine that it made Y/N’s heart ache.

“Y/N,” Minji said softly, her voice almost reverent. “I’ve wanted to hear those words since the day we met.”

Y/N blinked, her blush deepening. “Wait, really?”

Minji laughed, the sound bright and melodic. “Of course. Do you know how hard it was not to flirt with you every second of the day? Well, harder than I already did, anyway.”

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Minji’s smile softened, and she reached out to take Y/N’s hands in her own. “I’ve felt the same way for a long time. You’ve seen the best and worst of me, and you’ve never given up on me. How could I not fall for you?”

Y/N’s heart raced as Minji leaned in closer, her wings unfurling slightly behind her. Their faces were just inches apart, the golden light of the Garden casting a soft glow over their features.

“May I?” Minji asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded, her breath hitching.

Minji closed the distance between them, her lips brushing against Y/N’s in a kiss that was tender and electrifying all at once. Y/N melted into the moment, her wings unfurling fully as a sense of completeness washed over her.

When they finally pulled apart, Minji rested her forehead against Y/N’s, her smile radiant. “So... does this mean I’m officially your favorite assignment?”

Y/N laughed, her eyes sparkling with affection. “Don’t push it.”

Minji: holding Y/N’s hands dramatically “Y/N, will you do me the honor of being my one and only angel?”

Y/N: deadpan “Minji, we’ve literally been dating for two minutes.”

Minji: grinning “And they’ve been the best two minutes of my life.”

Y/N: groaning “You’re insufferable.”

Minji: winking “But you love me.”

Y/N: sighing but smiling “Yeah, I do.”

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