#part of me worries that this is an overreaction but i don’t think it is

[lycandrophile]

just here to say to straight trans men that there are straight cis women out there who think you're twice the man cis men are. another day another time i ask sam collins please i am begging you fuck me like the whore i am

reading this ask was such a rollercoaster…the first sentence is a nice sentiment and then it just takes a hard left turn into wild fetishization.

in case anybody else didn’t know this, talking like that about real life trans men you don’t know (or about anyone you don’t know!) is super weird and generally not going to go over well at all! in fact, if you said this to him and not a random other trans man, it would be sexual harassment. so if you honestly think this is what affirming trans men’s gender sounds like, please take two seconds to actually talk to a trans man because i genuinely believe that the only way someone could possibly think is appropriate is if they’ve never interacted with a trans man in real life before and just see us as attractive faces on a screen.

please take some time to really think about the way you think about and talk to trans men. finding a person attractive doesn’t automatically mean you respect them, so you do actually still have to put some work into the respect part even if you think we’re hot.

[vibraniumavenger]

Collision

TW/CW: Car accident, injuries.

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Diaz!Reader

You smiled to yourself as you walked beside Christopher, your nephew. You had watched him in the morning while your brother was working, and Carla was attending an appointment. You didn’t mind though, you absolutely adored him, and he enjoyed spending time with you. 

You had an hour to kill before dropping him off to Carla, and heading off to work yourself, so you decided to swing by the station to have lunch with the team. It was quiet when you arrived, indicating the team were on a call. You took it upon yourself to make lunch for everybody, knowing it would be a relief to them when they got back. Chris was sat at the table on his tablet, in a world of his own, allowing you to focus on the food. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as the sound of the shutters opening filled the station followed by heavy boots thudding against the floor as each firefighter jumped out of the truck. The footsteps got closer, the faint smell of smoke mixed with a familiar aftershave filled your nostrils and you instinctively lean back into the body that is now behind you as arms snake around your waist. “Isn’t this a nice surprise?” 

You turn towards the voice, and smile, “Apparently, I can’t seem to stay away.” You lean up to kiss Buck, causing Chris to pull a disgusted face. This seemed to amuse Buck, and he kissed you again. Eddie appeared in the kitchen, and made his way over to his son, visibly happy to see him. “Come on guys, get a room.” You rolled your eyes playfully at your brothers comment, and pulled away from Buck. 

You dished up the food for the team and took a seat, eager to hear about the call they had just been on. You listened intently as you ate, your complete focus on Buck as he spoke passionately about the call. Your heart warmed as you watched his face light up, he loved how much you genuinely enjoyed hearing about the calls, and how his day had gone. Chimney was the next to speak up, “It was a good call, except the part where Buck was playing hero and nearly got himself killed.” Bucks eyes widened and he turned to look at Chimney, giving him a look that immediately stopped him talking. Chimney, trying to help, began speaking again, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn’t any more dangerous than a simple call, the risk is always there. Besides, it was probably one of the safer times Buck tried to save the day, you should’ve seen him on the call last week.” 

“Chim, stop talking.” Buck, who was now visibly on the spot, turned to face you. He studied your face, working out how to approach this. He opened his mouth to reassure you, but you beat him to it, “I thought we spoke about this…” Buck knew you understood that no day was guaranteed, and that saving people on calls was something he would always try to do, even if it put him at risk. He also knew that he had a habit of jumping the gun and putting himself in dangerous situations without thinking it through. “I’m sorry…” 

You checked your watch, and stood up. “I just wish you’d be more careful, Buck.” Chris stood up and hugged Eddie goodbye, and you did the same. “Later bro.” You said goodbye to the team and walked back to the car with Chris by your side. The breeze hit you, and you took a deep breath. Maybe you were overreacting, maybe not but you just needed a moment. You helped Chris into the car and got in yourself, turning on the radio. The short ride to Carlas mostly consisted of Chris laughing as you sang along to the music, and the occasional conversation when Chris wasn’t overly engrossed in his phone. Carla was there to greet you when you pulled up on her drive, Chris was extremely excited and practically jumped out of the car to hug her. Carla gave you a hug, “Y/N, it’s so good to see you!” You smiled and hugged back, “It’s been a while, huh? Life has been hectic.” Carla laughs at this, “You’re telling me, your brother told me all about you and Buck. Moving in together? That’s a big step!” 

“We were practically living together anyway, and if I’m being honest, Eddie is probably just relieved to have his couch back. I was starting to get on his nerves.” You explained to Carla, and she chuckled. “Well, I wish you all the best. I’m gonna get Chris inside, and I’ll let you run off to work. It was lovely seeing you.” You hug Chris goodbye and bid farewell to Carla before getting into your car and beginning your journey to your place of work. In front of you, the amber light turned to red and you stopped. You could see that traffic was beginning to build up on the other side of the junction, and you didn’t want to be late. You sighed, and made the decision to take an alternate route, so when the light turned green, you indicated and pulled out to begin taking your turning. You let out a sudden gasp before you could even properly register the car coming towards you. All you could do was attempt to brace for the impact, and so you did. 

A loud crunching sound surrounded you, followed by the feeling of being thrown as your car was barrelled into. You closed your eyes tightly, scared of what was next. You didn’t have the courage to open them again until the car steadied. The first thing you could see was the airbag in front of you, despite not feeling it deploy moments before. You could smell the burning of the tyres, outside of the car, you could hear the panicked voices of bystanders, but all you could focus on was the blood that was now spread across your arms, unsure of where it was actually coming from. You weren’t in pain, at least you couldn’t feel any in that moment. Is that what shock feels like? You couldn’t think, but your eyes got heavy and you fought your hardest not to succumb to the darkness. 

Back at the station, the call was only just coming in. The alarm blared throughout the station, alerting the team to the call. They were quick to jump into action, grabbing their gear and piling themselves into their assigned trucks. Eddie and Buck sat beside each other, speaking casually between themselves about what had happened earlier. “Just give her some time, she’ll come around. For her, two of the people she loves most are at risk everyday, you’ve gotta imagine it can’t be easy. It’s a risky job as it is, and when you put yourself into riskier situations without needing to, it decreases the chance of making it home at the end. She’s scared. Just talk to her.” Eddie attempted to reassure Buck, who was feeling terrible. He couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind, the face that showed disappointment in his actions. Before Buck could respond, the truck halted and the team jumped out, ready to give help where needed. Buck stopped in his tracks as an all too familiar car was crushed before him. He tried not to panic, hoping that his suspicions were wrong. His eyes flicked to the number plate and his heart stopped. His feet were moving before his mind could catch up. He shouted your name, drawing Eddies attention. It took Eddie a few seconds to process what was happening. You had not long left the station, it couldn’t possibly be you. Right?

Buck arrived to your car first, nausea washed over him as he caught sight of your injured body. “Y/N? Hey, it’s me. I’m here.” You weren’t completely aware of what was happening, your eyes opened with a struggle. Your movements were weak as you turned your head to look at him. “Buck?” You spoke quietly, not completely aware of the situation at hand. “Don’t move, try and keep still.” He tried to remain as calm as he could, he didn’t want to scare you any more, he was terrified himself. Eddie ran right over to the car, his heart racing as he feared what he would find. His first instinct was to check the back seat, relief finally washing over him as he saw no sign of Christopher. Still, he needed to make sure, “Y/N, was Chris in the car?” 

You shook your head, “Carlas.” Eddie felt a weight off his shoulders, knowing his son was safe. The weight soon came back when he saw the condition you were in. Your eyes rolled back, and you fell into unconsciousness. Bobby was running the scene, assigning Hen and Chim to medically assist you, and he grabbed the gear to support Buck and Eddie in freeing you from the car. Buck didn’t want to let go of your hand, but he knew he had to in order to get you out sooner. The team worked tirelessly, ensuring to be as careful as possible. Bobby handed the halligan to Buck, “Buck, you focus on getting the doors open. Diaz, grab the saw and be on standby.” 

Buck groaned as he tried to pry the doors open, with no results, “Roofs too dented Cap, I can’t get it open.” Bobby nodded, and turned to Eddie, “Saws it is. Get in there Diaz, Buck, you too.” The roof was off in no time, Hen and Chim jumped straight in and equipped you with a neck brace, and got the back board in place to move you. Hen checked your vitals quickly, trying to make sure you were steady enough to be moved. “I’ve got a faint pulse, we gotta move.” They moved you out of you car quickly, and transferred you to the ambulance. “Trauma to the abdomen, possible internal bleeding. I’ll let the hospital know we’re en route.” Buck jumps into the back of the ambulance with Chimney, and instantly takes your hand in his. Hen places herself into the drivers seat, putting the ambulance into 911 mode and begins the journey as fast as she can to the nearest hospital. 

Buck hated seeing you like this. He was filled with anxiety, the nausea constantly there as he studied your visible injuries. His heart sank with every second that went by, the more he thought about you laying there almost lifeless, expecting you to flatline any second now. “I’m sorry baby, we can’t leave things like this. I need you to get through this so I can apologise to you. I know I’m not the easiest person to love, and I also know that I’m the biggest pain in the ass, but I love you, and I need you. Please.” Buck sobbed as he held your hand tighter. Time seemed to be going extremely slow for Buck, yet moments later Hen was pulling up at the hospital. You were rushed in, Hen spewed all your information to the nurses as you were wheeled in and handed over. Buck, Hen and Chimney stood there as you were wheeled out of sight. One of the nurses stopped Buck from running after you, and he sat defeated in the waiting room. The rest of the team arrived soon after, Eddies face was similar to Bucks. Eddie spoke first, “Any update?” The lack of response from Buck had him on edge, fearing the worst. Luckily, Chimney filled the silence. “There’s no update, but no news it almost always good news.” 

Eddie placed his hand on Bucks shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before sitting down next to him. “How’re you holding up?” Buck didn’t look up, instead he kept his head in his hands. He couldn’t respond, he couldn’t trust his voice not to give out. His leg bounced anxiously, and despite not talking, his feelings were painfully obvious. Eddie could empathise, he knew exactly what was going through Bucks mind. It was happening to him too, but he concealed it as much as he could, knowing Buck needed him. “You know, each time we’re sat in these chairs, it never gets easier. You don’t have to talk, I get it. I think you should know that I’m right here for you, I understand. Y/N is going to be okay, that I have no doubt about. She’s my sister, and us Diaz’s, we don’t back down. We fight.” Eddie continues talking, and he’s not sure whether he’s trying to convince Buck or himself. 

A few hours go by, and the team are waiting as patiently as they can for an update. Maddie had arrived some time ago, and was sat with Buck. She was not only there to support her brother, but also her brothers girlfriend, who Maddie had claimed as her best friend shortly after meeting her. Bobby hands a coffee to Buck and Eddie, who hadn’t moved from their seats since arriving. This changed moments later as a nurse approached, making them stand. Buck felt as if his legs were going to give way any second. The nurse cleared her throat, “She’s stable. She’s incredibly lucky to have made it out with the injuries she did, it could’ve been a lot worse. She’s awake, if you’d like to go see her.” 

Buck didn’t stick around to hear whatever else the nurse had to say, he darted through the corridor until he got to your room. He stopped to take a deep breath, and stepped inside. He was scared to look at you, all he could picture was you covered in blood still. His head shot up as he heard a voice, your voice to be exact, “Buck?” 

He was by your bedside in a blink of an eye, taking your hand in his. His eyes wandered over your body, taking in each of your injuries. His heart broke a little more with each one. He finally looked you in the eyes, and that’s when it hit him. His eyes filled up with tears, “Y/N…”

“Hey, don’t cry. I’m fine, see. I’m right here.” You gave his hand a squeeze, trying to give him the reassurance he needed. Buck took a seat close to your bed, your hand in his and against his lips. You move your hand up to his cheek and wipe his tears, Buck practically melted into your touch. “I really thought I had lost you.” 

“I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. I need to apologise for my reaction earlier, that could’ve been our last conversation earlier and left without saying goodbye, or telling you how much I love you.” 

Buck shook his head, “You have nothing to apologise for, I’m the one that owes you an apology. I’m sorry that I’m not more careful when I’m out on a call, I shouldn’t be that reckless. I’m sorry that I can’t promise to walk through that door every night, safe and unscathed. I can appreciate how you feel now, and I promise I’ll try my hardest to be more careful. I love you, and I don’t want you ever feeling anything close to what I’ve felt today.” You wince as you sit up, making Buck panic. You push through the pain, and pull Buck to you. “Come here.” He stands from his chair and leans down to kiss you quickly. He carefully moves your hair from your face, ensuring he doesn’t touch any of your cuts or bruises. 

“I love you too, and even though I’m petrified that you won’t make it home one day, I trust that you’ll try everything in your power to make sure you do. I’m proud of you, Evan.” As you spoke, Buck smiled to himself. A sense of relief washed over him. Before he could respond, you continued. “So… does this mean I can finally get a new car now?” 

Buck chuckled, “You’re a pain in the ass, Diaz.” 

“Takes one to know one, Buck.”

A/N: So, I think I rewrote this like 10 times. Its been a while since I've done any writing, so please bare with me while I figure out my writing style again. Any criticism is welcome, I appreciate the feedback.

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Vexing Vacation – Part 6

Summary: When you agreed to join your brother on his vacation, sharing a room with his best friend wasn’t part of the plan. Now, that you’re constantly stuck with Lando and his relentless teasing, you’re not sure whether you want to strangle him or kiss him.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader, one-bed trope, a lot of banter and a hint of forced proximity :)

WC: 3.0K

Warnings: mentions of sex/sexual insinuations, cursing, alcohol consumption, making out (finally!)

Part 1 | Part 5 | Masterlist

Y/N went about her day pretending nothing had happened. She continued to read her book, which Lando had been so kind as to leave open on the same page as when he took it from her (she felt even more guilty after she realised that), and talked with Pietra every now and then. 

Lando barely spoke to Y/N after their fight, only engaging when it was necessary to keep up appearances in front of Max and Pietra. Maybe he had overreacted, but he had just been hit by the harsh truth that Y/N would never be his. He had never been this close to winning her over, and now she was shutting him out. It made him realise that it would never happen, no matter how much effort he put into his relationship with Y/N. He just needed some time to process the rejection, preferably without much interference from the woman herself.

When they got back to the hotel after dinner, Lando followed Max to his room without hesitation, not wanting to be alone with Y/N. Pietra quickly grabbed her stuff and joined the other girl to get ready for a night out. Lando could use a drink, and maybe a distraction, too.

Y/N was lost in her thoughts when Pietra entered the room, absentmindedly applying her makeup.

“So, what happened between you and Lando?” Pietra asked the moment she sat down.

Y/N froze at the sudden sound breaking silence. “What do you mean?” She asked, attempting to sound nonchalant.

“Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb. You told me yourself, he was all over you last night and this morning, and you’re barely speaking now. What happened at the beach?”

Y/N bit her lip. “It’s my fault. I ignored him and now he’s upset. I realised this morning that I like Lando, and now I don’t know how to act around him anymore. Regardless of what you’ve been telling me, I don’t believe he feels the same. I’m just trying to protect myself before I get hurt, I thought keeping my distance would help.”

Pietra smiled sympathetically. “He likes you, Y/N. I’m one hundred per cent sure of it. He’s just confused. Last night, you asked him to cuddle, and now you’re ignoring him. He’s probably just as lost as you are – doing the same thing; shutting you out so he doesn’t get hurt any more.” 

Y/N thought about it for a second, Pietra was making sense, but she wasn’t convinced. “Even if he does like me, all my relationships end badly. I can’t risk ruining things with Lando; it would ruin his friendship with Max and even if it doesn’t, I wouldn’t be able to face him when he comes over. Besides, what if he changes his mind, just like he did today? I can’t let myself be vulnerable with him only for him to leave when he doesn’t want me anymore.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that. Lando’s been around for more than a decade, yes? He already liked you before I met him, I’m quite sure of it. He’s not going anywhere, he’s not going to change his mind, and he’s not one to give up easily. And if he were, isn’t it worth the risk? You’re never going to be sure—in any relationship,” Pietra explains gently.

She was right, Y/N realised. Maybe she should just admit it and get it over with, like ripping off a band-aid. If Pietra was convinced he had liked her for such a long time, it must be true right? Pietra wouldn’t lie to her about such a thing, not on purpose. She sighed. “I need a drink.”

“Maybe it’ll help you admit how you feel,” Pietra said, winking. She pulled Y/N into an encouraging hug, before ushering her out the door.

A cab ride later, the group arrived at the club. The music was loud, the lights dim, and the room crowded. Y/N headed to the bar straight away, immediately ordering a drink. She would need some liquid courage to confront Lando tonight, but he had already done a shot and disappeared before she could get her hands on the cocktail.

It didn’t take her long to spot Lando in the herd of people. He was dancing with a girl she’d never seen before. She seemed to enjoy the attention he was giving her, and Y/N wished she had done the same when she was on the receiving end. She watched as Max and Pietra disappeared into the crowd, a worried look on Pietra’s face when she looked at Y/N over her shoulder. But Y/N didn’t pay her any mind; her eyes were focused on Lando, and the pretty girl he was dancing with. 

She had already ordered a second drink before she had even finished the first one. She felt stupid. Lando had never liked, that much was clear, or he had gotten over her really quickly. She felt like an idiot for believing Pietra for that short moment, for wanting to talk to him and admit her feelings for him when he clearly didn’t care for her in the same way.

So, when a guy came up to her at the bar, she let him buy her a drink. If things weren’t going to work out with Lando, why shouldn’t she try with someone else? Her goal for the vacation hadn’t changed, after all. She eagerly followed Luca – or was it Luke? –  to the dance floor, ready to forget about her troubles. She looked at Lando one last time before she was pulled into the crowd.

Lando had been looking over every so often, just to make sure she was alright – or that’s what he told himself. Irritation flared up inside him when he saw her accept a drink from a man he had never seen before, again. He felt annoyed at the realisation that she clearly didn’t care to listen to him or her brother, especially when he saw her following the stranger to the dance floor. His jaw clenched in aggravation as they made eye contact – she was doing it on purpose, he was sure of it. She was taking to the floor with yet another stranger to spite him, and it was working.

He shouldn’t care about it, but he couldn’t deny his jealousy. Y/N made it clear she wasn’t interested earlier today, but still she watched him – dared him to come and do something about it, or maybe he imagined it. It shouldn’t matter, she was Max’s problem, not his. Yet, he couldn’t resist looking over every now and then. Even as a pretty blonde was putting up a show right in front of him, he was focused on the way the stranger’s hands moved over Y/N’s body, how they rested on her hips to pull her ass tightly against him, and how he kissed his way down her neck. Lando clenched his hands, needing to release some of the tension, and swallowed thickly – that was supposed to be him.

He stared at Y/N, completely ignoring the blonde he was dancing with, watching as the man’s wandering hands moved further down her body before trailing up her thighs and disappearing under the hem of her dress. He was done; he would not stand by and watch how the girl he loved was being touched by another man. He pushed the blonde away rougher than he intended. Muttering an apology, he forced his way through the crowd.

His eyes were still set on Y/N, and the man’s hand that kept moving higher and higher, as if taunting him. His jaw tightened at the crude sight, only encouraging him to move faster. When he was finally close enough he forcefully pulled Y/N’s arm, yanking her from the stranger’s grip. 

She opened her eyes, startled at the sudden contact. “Lando,” she mumbled as he tugged her along. She didn’t care to look back at Lucas or say goodbye, solely focused on the man in front of her; the man who had come to save her from a stranger once more.

Once they got to a quieter part of the club, Lando faced her. “What on earth were you thinking? I told you before, you shouldn’t accept drinks from strangers, or let them touch you like that! Let me guess, you were planning to go home with him?”

Y/N looked at him in shock before her expression faded into a frown. He had been ignoring her all day, he had made it clear he no longer wanted anything to do with her, and now he was pulling her away from another man – what did he want from her? “Why do you care? You’re not my boyfriend! You don’t even like me!” She exclaimed frustratedly.

Lando froze at her words, completely taken aback. He thought he had been very clear with his intentions from the start; he had spent the entire vacation flirting with her, paid for her food and drinks, pulled out her chair, touched her whenever she would allow him, and now she was accusing him of not liking her? She couldn’t be more wrong, or oblivious for that matter. 

“What the hell makes you think that?” He demanded, moving closer. His eyes wide in frustration as he provoked her, trying to find out where it had gone wrong.

Y/N stuttered under his intense gaze, suddenly forgetting why exactly she had concluded that. “You… You always make fun of me, and—”

“What?” Lando interjected. Made fun of her? He had teased her, yes, but he had never humiliated her, had he? He began to doubt himself, but didn’t let it show.

“You know, for a short moment there I thought P was right; that you actually liked me, but I realise now I was stupid. You don’t like me, or you sure got over it quickly!” Y/n said with more confidence. She was done with this. The entire vacation had been awkward and weird and she needed clarity; she needed to suck it up and get it over with; finish whatever was going on, even if she got hurt or humiliated herself in the process.

“What are you talking about?” Lando asked confused. At least she had gotten the hint sometime this vacation, but moving on? He hadn’t attempted it, and he wouldn’t succeed if he tried.

“The girl you were dancing with? She’s pretty,” Y/N huffed.

Lando laughed at her – so she had been watching him, too? – and Y/N flushed in frustration. “The girl I was dancing with?”

She nodded.

“You think I care about her?” He asked, his eyebrows raised in disbelief; as if her assumption was ridiculous. The way she acted – her arms crossed, and the pouty expression he loved so much – made it clear she was jealous, and Lando thoroughly enjoyed it; it was about time she returned the favour.

Y/N became defensive. “You seemed pretty into her. Yet, here you are, lecturing me about who I dance with, while you were—”

“You call that dancing?” Lando interrupted harshly, stepping closer again. “You were about to fuck in the middle of the dancefloor.”

Y/N gasps in offence. “I was not! I would never do that, I wasn’t going to go home with him! I don’t even know him, I—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Lando’s lips had crashed onto hers, silencing her effectively. Her protest and apparent jealousy were enough reason for him to believe she liked him back; enough reason for him to risk it. Y/N’s body froze in surprise, but the moment she felt Lando’s lips move against hers, firm yet desperate, she relaxed in his strong hold. His hands glided over her body before one settled on her hip, pulling her closer, while the other slid behind her neck, guiding her deeper into the kiss.

Y/N’s mind was reeling, her heart pounding heavily as she gasped for breath when Lando suddenly pulled away, letting go of her body. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” 

Before he could finish his apology, Y/N yanked him back by his shirt, cutting him off with her lips. Her fingers tangled in his curls, tugging softly as her other hand kept its tight grip on his shirt, as if she was afraid he’d try to pull away again.

Lando groaned softly against her lips, his hand sliding down her side again, his touch possessive yet gentle. He pulled her closer and pressed his hips into hers, a stark contrast to the gentle stroke of his thumb on her cheek. 

Y/N lost herself in the moment, surrendering to the intensity of Lando’s kiss, her body responding to his every touch, every caress. At this moment, she would go along with whatever he wanted, enjoying it far too much to protest.

When the heat of the moment had worn off, Y/N finally pulled away, in desperate need of some fresh air. She leant her forehead against Lando’s, her eyes closed as she tried to process the situation. She’d kissed Lando, but what did this mean? Did he like her? Were they in a relationship now or would they go back to being friends tomorrow? She was incredibly confused, even more so than before.

Lando’s voice broke her train of thoughts. “We should… probably find Max and Pietra,” he muttered, softly squeezing her waist as if to wake her up from her thoughts. Y/N nodded, her cheeks flushed from Lando’s penetrative gaze and, not to forget, the intense kiss.

Lando led her to the bar, hoping to get a better view of the club from there, maybe Max and Pietra would spot them there, too. His hand was back in its rightful place on Y/N’s back as he guided her through the club. A small, satisfied smile settled on her face at the feeling, but she wasn’t reassured just yet; they needed to talk.

“There you are!” Pietra exclaimed when they neared the bar, quickly pulling Y/N into a hug. Pietra eyed the girl suspiciously at the lack of distance between her and Lando but didn’t mention it right away. Although it was obvious something had happened, she wasn't entirely sure what – she would ask later, when they were alone.

Max was oblivious, however. “You guys good to leave? We want to head back to the hotel,” he said, sending a cheeky look and wink over to Pietra.

Y/N nearly gagged at the suggestive comment but nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’re good to go,” she said, her eyes flicking to Lando’s for confirmation.

“Okay, let’s go,” Max uttered before heading the group in search of the exit. Lando walked ahead of Y/N, reaching his hand behind him for her to grab. He looked at her over his shoulder when it took too long, wiggling his fingers impatiently. Y/N blushed and grabbed his hand quickly, letting him guide her through the crowd.

The group entered one of the many taxis waiting outside the club. Max took the passenger’s seat as the rest settled in the back, Y/N in the middle. She could feel the gentle pressure and warmth of Lando’s hand on her bare knee as he rubbed slow circles into her skin. Pietra nudged her to catch her attention, nodding to Lando’s hand with a questioning look, only causing Y/N to blush more fiercely.

Pietra and Max quickly escaped to their room when they arrived at the hotel. If the sneaky kisses in the elevator were any indication of what was about to go down, Y/N was happy that their rooms weren’t next to each other.

Lando and Y/N slowly walked to their room, wanting to extend the moment before they had to face the reality of the situation.

“You okay?” Lando asked once they’d entered the room. His tone was soft and gentle, matching the reassuring hand rubbing her arm. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just, so many thoughts running through my head right now. Like, what does this mean? You still haven’t confirmed that you like me too, and I don’t want this to be just a one-time thing, you know?” She admitted quietly, as if that would make the statement less intimidating. 

“I like you, is that enough confirmation for you?” Lando said teasingly, yet lovingly. He couldn’t believe she still wasn’t sure about that after the kiss they shared. “And I don’t want that either,” he continued. “You think I would flirt with you for years just to have a one-time thing?” Lando questioned, his tone equally as soft as hers.

“No. But then again, I didn’t know you were flirting, I thought you were just making fun of me the entire time.”

Lando’s jaw hung slack at her comment, surprised at how bold she could be when she sounded so sweet. “Are you insulting my flirting now?”

“Hmm, maybe…” She said, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “Your name is perfect for it, Lando Norizz.” She giggled at her joke, and the fake offence Lando displayed.

“It worked though,” he protested.

“Just barely, it took a lot of intervention from P for me to realise you liked me.”

“Okay, I think that’s enough slander for tonight. Let’s go to sleep, hm?” Lando said, trying to distract her from making any more comments about his non-existent ‘rizz’.

She rolled her eyes, ready to protest, when he shut her up with a kiss. Not as firm and passionate as before, but sweet and adoring instead. She held his face gently, angling his lips to perfectly fit hers, before pushing him away.

“Sleep, you said?”

– – – – –

Vote about the story here!

@dripostsstuff @willowsnook @f1fantasys @sarx164 @watermelonslut @diorsummer @zzfhcp @spidey.lovin @harrysdimple05 @pattydel @mayusaatma @leonie404 @mywritersmind @weekendlusting @01rrdbull @alex-wotton @liv1209 @forensicheart @carey86 @avagracekeating @sltwins @graceln4 @chachaxbear @lucktales @benstormy @cheyennep3107 @suicidepanda07 @hellowgoodbye @itsartesworld @fleurskles @monstermash234 @haileysaintmleux @ainocilla @bicchaan @lnlightning81 @f1updates4you @rana-dprian @slytherinbithc @fangirl125reader @saturnbloom77 @itssueed @rebecca-9 @radiator101 @f1norris04 @teamnovalak @noescapricho-essentimiento @itsjustfranzi @obxstiles @liv1209 @sagestack

[fangswbenefits]

Consequences

Summary: Miguel’s obsession with you reaches a breaking point, and now he’s left to deal with the consequences.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 2.5k

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Shy/inexperienced sweet reader. Pining. Pillow hump*ng.

Part 1 (if you’re just starting out) - Previous part

Miguel hadn’t managed to get a single second of sleep.

After having heard you mumble that name over and over, he had retreated to the living room, scanning through your file like a madman, hoping he’d find out who this person was.

Tom.

He had Lyla comb through everything, but nothing had come up.

By the time six in the morning rolled around, you exited the room with a long yawn, stretching out your arms, as Miguel sat on his counch, eyeing you intensely.

Still not wearing a bra.

Still in his shirt.

But having mumbled someone else’s name.

Needless to say, this ordeal had effectively killed his boner for good.

It was hard for him to hide his scowl. “Sleep well?”

Your lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Hmm. You?”

Laughable.

He nodded, not wanting his voice to betray his feelings.

“Do you think I can take a shower before I go to the lab?”

“Sure.”

You glared at him, arching an eyebrow. “Is… everything okay?”

“Of course,” he said, clearing his throat. “You have some fresh towels in there.”

“Great!” you chirped happily, disappearing into the bathroom.

Maybe a few hours ago, Miguel O’Hara would have been rock hard from the thought of you being naked with nothing but a door in the way.

But he was having a hard time focusing on anything beyond his blinding jealousy.

Who was Tom? A boyfriend? Family? A pet? Someone random?

Or someone important?

Why didn’t he know about this? Was he overreacting? Maybe there was nothing to be jealous of.

But he was sure of something: he needed answers.

He walked up to the kitchen and brew himself a cup of coffee, needing to deal with the headache that had settled.

Not long after, you emerged from the bathroom, completely soaked in the scent of his body wash, and he nearly gasped at how it completely overtook his senses.

Already in your suit, you quickly dropped by his bedroom to drop off his clothes, and walked right back, bearing a sleepy smile.

“Want something to eat?”

You nodded, sitting on the stool by the counter. “Yes, please. Do you have some fruit?”

He grabbed his cup of coffee and scanned the cupboard. “An apple?”

“Yes!” you beamed.

Miguel offered you one that you immediately brought to your lips, sinking your teeth into the soft surface.

To someone on the outside, this could be considered a moment between a couple who was just getting ready to start the day.

Everything looked very… domestic.

Except, it wasn’t.

Maybe he shouldn’t ask. Would it be too much?

But he had to know. It was eating him alive inside not knowing.

“Who’s Tom?”

Your eyes shot up to meet his and you immediately stopped chewing. “What?”

Miguel tried to appear as casual as possible, but something in your reaction made him regret having asked in the first place.

There was no going back now, so he might as well push for it.

Right?

“I heard you in your sleep,” he went on, taking a sip of his coffee. “You whispered that name.”

Your face had hardened lightly and your gaze dropped to the apple in your hand. “Uh… yeah. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

I didn’t even sleep…

“Is he family or…?”

You swallowed and slid off the stool, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s no big deal. Wait… what time is it?” you said, tapping your watch. “Oh. I need to head back to the lab.”

At this point, Miguel knew he had maybe fucked up big time, and went into full on panic mode.

“I’m sorry that I asked, I-”

You immediately shook your head. “Don’t worry. It’s fine! Thanks for letting me stay over.”

He rounded the countertop and walked up to you, desperate to fix whatever he had just broken.

“You can take the day off if you need.”

You smiled again, but he knew that this time it was genuine. “That’s exactly what I don’t need. Now that I’ve managed to get the chips to work, I need to get back and run some tests.”

He allowed himself to relax slightly. From this distance he could smell his shampoo on you, and it made his heart clench.

There you were again.

His hardworking sweet girl.

You gave his arm a light pat. “Thanks again, Miguel. Your bed is really comfortable,” you said, heading to the doorway while rummaging through your backpack. “Much more than mine.”

He’d have it in your apartment in a heartbeat, and he nearly offered, but chose silence.

“See you later!” you waved with a smile before taking another bite out of the apple, and disappearing beyond the sliding door.

That smile could break a man.

It had broken him long ago.

And now Miguel wanted to scream.

To break something.

Not only did he not get an answer from you, but now he was under the impression he had crossed a line he shouldn’t have by having asked you.

He stormed into his room, and paced hurriedly from one end to the other, trying to decide what to do next.

That was until your scent gripped his heightened senses again.

He glared at his bed.

Your scent lingered in the bedsheets and, as if on autopilot, he paced towards it and gripped one pillow, bringing it to his face.

The family rush of blood downwards was almost painful.

You had been in his bed, and he had lost count of the amount of times he had fantasised ravaging you in it.

He allowed his digital suit to dissolve, leaving him fully naked.

Miguel knew deep down that this was too desperate. Even for him.

But that didn’t stop him.

Instead, he got on top of the mattress, right above where you had slept, and positioned the pillow lower, until the underside of his cock was resting on the soft material.

You had left his shirt neatly folded on top of another pillow and he brought the fabric to his nose, breathing in your scent mixed with his.

His hips rolled once.

It was intoxicating, but he couldn’t stop himself from slowly dragging his cock up and down the pillow soaked in your scent, soon to become soaked in his precum.

His grunts were muffled by the fabric and he felt his fang tear through it.

He wasn’t going to last long.

This was too much.

With a few more snaps of his hips, and feeling more and more precum spill out, Miguel was a moaning mess.

How he wished you’d be right under him, taking all those thrusts deep inside, whimpering and sobbing as he filled you over and over again.

The thought of you struggling to take him for the first time was enough to push him over the edge, and more sounds of fabric being torn filled his ears.

He stilled as a guttural growl broke from his throat, strings of cum shooting out and seeping into the soft fabric below.

His breathing was still erratic by the time his fangs retracted.

Once he found the will to get up, he picked up the cum-drenched pillow and decided to throw it away.

The post-nut clarity hit him like a thousand bricks, as he cleaned up the mess, allowing his suit to cover his entire body once again.

If you weren’t going to tell him about Tom, then he knew just who to ask.

Jessica Drew.

Pulling out two orange screens in his livingroom, your file immediately coming up. He then tapped on his watch twice.

Jessica’s hologram popped up. “Morning, Miguel.”

“Busy?”

“Just headed out to brief my squad.”

“Who’s Tom?” he blurted out, positioning his wrist so that she could see your file on the screen.

“Oh.”

He scowled deeply. “What do you mean ‘oh’?”

Jess clicked her tongue. “I mean that I’m not surprised this is about her.”

“What?”

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Miguel O’Hara,” she said with a teasing smile. “You might be able to fool others — hell, even her —, but you can’t fool me.”

That was Jessica Drew. Perceptive as always. He wasn’t all that annoyed that she could read him that well. After all, he had recruited her for a reason.

“I’m just concerned about her,” he said, admitting defeat.

“I’m sure you are,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “But maybe you should be asking her, no?”

“I did, and she pushed the topic away.”

She shrugged. “Well, I don’t know of any Tom. That name never popped up while I was scouting her.”

He felt disappointment and frustration grip him tightly, and he began scrolling through your file, wishing he could have missed something.

“Look, I may head out to her dimension later today, and see what I can find,” she offered with a sigh.

“Thank you, Jess.”

“But Miguel…?”

His crimson eyes darted to the flickering hologram. “Yes?”

“If she doesn’t want to talk about it, there may be a chance you won’t like what I find out. If I find anything, that is.”

Point taken.

He was started to accept that the truth might be an inconvenience for him.

But he had to know. The frustration of not knowing was driving him crazy.

“Just do what you have to do.”

She nodded and the hologram faded.

The first time Miguel had been at to your place was to check up on you after almost an entire week of going without sleep.

You were stubborn. Even more than he had been in his younger days.

You’d go home, but continue working, so he had no choice but to restrict your access to the lab data from outside HQ. As expected, you weren’t happy, but finally took his advice and got some rest.

Now he was back, but for a different reason, and he could only hope things between you two hadn’t soured.

He had kept his distance throughout the rest of day, occasionally checking you through the cameras as the mic in your suit.

Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary.

But he had an uneasy feeling brewing inside him, so he had to make sure.

You had promptly let him in even though it was close to midnight, slightly confused as to the reason of him dropping by.

As he stepped in, he was met with a sight he hadn’t seen the last time he had visited: there were wires spread everywhere along the floor, mixed between card boxes and paper scattered across every possible surface he could set his eyes on.

“Sorry for the mess,” you giggled apologetically. “Wasn’t expecting visitors.”

Good.

But also… very workaholic of you.

You were dressed in just a shirt — seemingly wearing a bra, this time — and some sweatpants, with a pencil tucked behind your ear, as you paced in circles, glaring at your pad.

“Love what you did with the decoration,” Miguel mused, trying his best to strategically avoid stepping on anything. “Fire hazard aesthetic, is it?”

You paused to stare at him with a lighthearted chuckle. “Bingo!”

Your reaction made him feel more at ease. Perhaps he had read too much into things.

You were still acting like his sweet girl.

The table at the center had barely any room left, and he managed to find a vacant spot on a chair nearby. “May I sit?”

You were looking through a tube with five different wires running along it. “Oh… I was going to place this there.”

Miguel immediately moved away. “Right. Of course.”

Priorities of any scientist.

Flashing him your trademark grin, you moved around to rest the tube horizontally on the chair.

This place truly resembled his when he was first getting started with Nueva York. All the blueprints and planning and computers and screens.

Oddly enough, your apartment made him feel nostalgic.

“So, what’s up?” you said, before taking a sip of your water.

He ran a hand through his hair and heaved a deep sigh. “I wanted to apologise for earlier today.”

You blinked.

“That conversation… about Tom?”

“Oh!” you suddenly said as realisation hit you. “There’s nothing to apologise for, Miguel! It’s a non issue.”

Well. He begged to differ, actually. Whoever this Tom person was, it had already created a slight rift between you two, even if unintentionally.

And he wanted to fix that.

Miguel was a fixer.

“I just want to make sure that Tom isn’t going to become an issue. For you… or for us.”

He added that last part in an effort to compel you to talk about him, which stemmed from genuine concern. What if Tom was someone dangerous and that could put spider society at risk?

You waved your hand dismissively. “He won’t. Don’t worry.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling the urge to continue with the questions, but it had become clear you weren’t going to collaborate.

It didn’t matter.

He would have information on Tom soon enough, and then he’d decide whether he was an issue or not.

But then… “Are you two close?”

He mentally slapped himself for his impulse.

“Oh, yeah… I guess you could say that,” you said, dragging your finger along the screen in front of you. “But, really, there’s no point talking about it.”

But why?

So he was someone close to you… he had dreaded this possibility becoming true.

But maybe… maybe it was just some family member.

He began pacing around with arms crossed, glacing outside the window and into the night sky.

Deep down, he wanted you to know he was there for you, but he also wanted some answers.

He needed answers.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

At this, you slammed your palms on the table, a frown settling on your face. “Miguel! Drop it, please… it’s nothing.”

That was unexpected.

And so unlike you.

And it was enough to stop him in his tracks. “I’m just looking out for you.”

He was. Truly.

And for his relationship with you. A future one, hopefully.

Your features softened as your eyes met his, and he felt the sudden urge to close the gap between you two and pull you into an embrace.

But he chose to keep his distance, not wanting to seem overbearing.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you drawled out, rubbing your temples with both hands. “I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

He shook his head at once. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I’ve been too overloaded with work, which is my fault, I know,” you said, pacing nervously. “But… I just want to help.”

Miguel sighed. “And you are. You don’t need to constantly prove yourself. No one will think less of you for not figuring things out at first,” he continued, and he meant every single word. “There’s so much trial and error in our line of work. We should work hard, yes. But not to the point of exhaustion.”

You halted, glaring at him like he had just uttered something unthinkable.

Unexpectedly, you were the one to close the distance between you two with unsure steps.

Dropping both arms against his sides, Miguel watched in silence as you paced closer and closer, your face holding a hint of sadness that should be forbidden.

You should never have to feel sad.

“I know you care,” you said, you voice but a whisper. “And I’m really grateful for you.”

Miguel’s heart sped up, as you tilted your head to stare at him. “Can I hug you?”

How could he ever say no to you? He’d give you anything. Everything.

You just didn’t know that.

He was left baffled and could only nod, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressed your cheek to his chest.

For a man who was perceived as a genius and had built an entire city from the ground up, Miguel sure felt like a fish out of water. So out of his element. He hadn’t shared this level of closeness with anyone in years.

But slowly, he managed to place one hand to the back of your head while the other pulled you closer, in the hopes that you would find safety and comfort in his embrace.

“Thank you.”

A few hours ago, he was humping his pillow thinking of you, fully drunk in your scent. Now, something else filled him.

Anger.

Rage.

No… there was no doubt whoever this Tom individual was that he had left a mark on you. And he couldn’t stand seeing his sweet girl like this.

He had to find out what had happened and what he had done to his sweet girl.

He would find him and he would break him if he had to.

Your tears were wetting his suit, and he had to muster all his willpower not to bolt into your dimension in search of him.

The fingers on your back caressed you slowly, lulling you into a comfortable position.

“I’m here for you.”

He felt your arms tighten around him, and he heard a sob. “Can… can you sing something?”

“What?”

“It distracts me…”

He felt puzzled at first, but he did want to help you. “Uh… anything?”

You nodded with a sniffle.

“Okay… uh… the itsy bitsy spider craw-”

You broke into a laughter. “Seriously?”

He felt his lips turn into a warm smile, as he kept rubbing your back.

Slowly, you loosened your grip around him and tilted your head to stare at him, chin resting on his chest with a sweet smile.

It had worked.

“You have such pretty eyes,” you whispered.

On impulse, he brushed his thumb along your cheek, wiping away a few teardrops.

His eyes then fell to your lips as they parted slightly, and he brought the thumb to brush along them, enjoying the softness and how your breath came out in shallow pants.

His sweet girl…

How he really wanted to—

And then his watch stared beeping, cutting the moment short.

Of course.

You jolted and he bent his arm and glared, as spider-byte’s hologram emerged. “Boss, Jessica has found subject A on Earth-2848.”

Fuck.

You immediately tore from him, wiping away the remnants of your tears.

“My Earth? What happe-”

He quickly cut you off. “Send me the file.”

Margo glanced briefly at you. “Uploading the file, boss.”

Miguel immediately terminated contact, and the hologram dissolved. He was then met with your questioning face

“Is it an anomaly? Is everything okay?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “We are just tracking some unusual activity.”

He didn’t want to lie to you.

But you had left him no choice.

He had to know who Tom was.

For you.

“I’m taking care of it,” he tried to reassure again.

You didn’t seem all that convinced, but didn’t insist.

Instead, you took a few steps back, and he felt your warmth painfully leave him at once.

He could get used to it so easily.

Then, he glared down at the screen of his watch, waiting for the file to be ready.

“Hey, Miguel?”

79%

Almost there.

“Miguel?”

His gaze remained fixed. “Hmm?”

“Do you think you can unlock my suit settings?”

That made him snap his head to glare at you.

What?

You were holding your pad, extending it to him. “I’ve been getting this weird interference in my suit,” you sniffled, eyes still puffy from crying. “I wanted to troubleshoot, but it doesn’t let me access the settings.”

Of course not. He had made sure of that.

But something else began looming over him… “What kind of interference?”

You shrugged, tapping the screen. “Static, I think? I only hear it from time to time, though.”

Miguel’s heart instantly dropped, Lyla’s words of caution ringing inside his head: “You’re not the only tech savvy spider here.”

No, no, no…

“So… can you let me in?”

The mic.

Fuck.

Part 5

Masterlist

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

beautiful mess | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick knows exactly how to comfort you in a moment of insecurity.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, menstruation, fluff, boyfriend!finnick being a cutie patootie, angst, mild hurt/comfort, insecurity, a little overdramatic but it’s cute idc

notes: about to get my period so this is kind of self-indulgent lmao. the number of times I rewrote this is insane. i hope i didn’t disappoint <3

“You know, I think I could pull off one of those long wizard beards,” Finnick said, admiring himself in the bathroom mirror as he shaved down the slight stubble on his jaw. “Those ones that go down to your chest? I could decorate it with little seashells and twine. It’d look hot, don’t you think?”

His playful words didn’t register in your mind.

Frustrated tears threatened to spill as the hairbrush in your hand tugged harshly at the roots of your hair. Nausea was bubbling in your stomach as you stared at your reflection, feeling as though not a single human being in history had ever looked as ugly as you did right now.

“Sweetheart?”

Here you were standing next to a Greek god, meanwhile, your skin was all hot and blotchy, your hair was a tangled mess, and your stomach was aching something awful. Christ, you hated being on your period.

A hard lump was lodged in your throat; you tried to swallow it, but there was no use. Warm tears had already begun to stream down your cheeks. Unable to bear the sight of yourself any longer, you turned away from the mirror. As you reached for the bathroom door handle, a sharp unexpected cramp pierced at your insides, causing your legs to buckle and collapse to the cold tiled floor.

That was the last straw. You just couldn’t hold it in anymore. A disharmony of cries burst from your lips, reverberating around the small room as your shuddering body folded over itself. Curse the Fates for having you been born a girl.

Finnick, now switched to panic mode, quickly dropped to his knees before you, eyes wide and alert.

“Hey, hey!” he said soothingly as his hand moved to rub your back in support, though he wasn’t even sure what he was supporting.

A thousand-and-one distressing thoughts flew through his mind. Had someone died? Were you injured? Were you dying? Obviously, these ideas were a little irrational considering you were just standing next to him a second ago. But seeing the love of his life in pain and not knowing why made him fear the absolute worst.

“Baby, what happened? What’s wrong?”

All you could do was sob in response. You felt pathetic. Stupid, ugly, and pathetic. “How can you—” Another sob left your lips— “stand to look at me?!”

You could feel his hand stop moving which, illogically, made you even more upset.

“What?” he asked quietly. “What do you mean ‘stand to look at you’? Please, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

Finally, you forced yourself to sit up, revealing the tears that streaked your distraught expression. Finnick’s brows scrunched together, almost like he was in pain watching you in such a state of disarray. He tried to think of anything he might’ve done to make you feel this way because, of course, the first thing Finnick Odair would do was blame himself. But nothing came to mind.

Your heavy heart sank—he looked so worried. A part of your brain knew you were overreacting. Justa little bit. It made you feel even more terrible, knowing he was panicked simply because you didn’t like how you looked. Nevertheless….

“I look so ugly!” you cried. “My hair is all knotted, my face is all red and gross, my stomach is cramping, and—and… I’m just a mess!” You buried your face in your hands. “Why are you even with me?”

Shock was an understatement compared to what Finnick felt when those words left your mouth. Never in a million years would he believe someone like you—someone who looked like you—could ever possibly be insecure about their appearance, and now, of all times.

He gently reached out and removed the hands that shielded your face. You attempted to turn away to conceal yourself in shame, in fear that if he got too close, he would discover your flaws and see you the way you saw yourself. But he caught your chin with a single finger and compelled you to meet his gaze.

Yes, your skin was a little red and your eyes were a little bloodshot, but that didn’t mean you looked ugly. In fact, your rosy cheeks glowed with such radiance that the teardrops falling from your crystalline eyes looked like shimmering diamonds. Your lips, which were slightly quivering, were reddened and plump—an alluring contrast to the hue of your skin.

Not that he would say it given the insensitivity and selfishness of admitting such a thought, but he believed you cried quite beautifully.

“Because I don’t think you’re a mess,” Finnick said softly, ironically tucking multiple disordered strands of hair behind your ear. “You’re human, and you don’t need to look or feel perfect all the time. That’s why you’ve got me—I’ll always think the most of you. And when you’re feeling this way, I’ll always remind you so too.”

You tried to allow his compassionate words to seep into your brain, tried to turn his beliefs into your own. However, the storm of emotions inside your mind was refusing to dissipate. The insecurities just wouldn’t subside and Finnick could see it in your glossy eyes.

“Listen to me,” he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that fell across your skin. “Waking up and seeing your gorgeous face next to mine? That’s what gives me the strength to get up every morning. Those imperfections you’re so adamant about? They only make me love you so much more.

I love every part of you. Every so-called flaw, every tangled strand of hair on that pretty little head of yours.” He grinned as he consolingly ran his fingers through your hair which, in his opinion, was perfectly soft and smooth. “You’re my girl and nothing will ever make me want it any other way.”

Hearing his declaration had your heart aching in your chest. Your hand curled around his arm, needing some physical anchor to the reassuring words he spoke. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice, a sure-fire sign that he was telling the truth.

You realised you never had to worry about Finnick finding you unattractive. Though you were a little worried he was partially blind which, unfortunately, represented your own seemingly unshakeable insecurities.

“I wish I could see myself the way you do,” you whispered, voice hoarse from crying.

“I know,” he sighed. “I know, but just give it time. One day you’ll look back and wonder what the hell you were thinking. I mean, you? Ugly? Sweetheart, we might need to get you some glasses.”

You sniffled, lips stretching into a wobbly smile. “You’re an idiot.”

He lifted your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Only for you,” he quipped in response, wearing a light-hearted smirk on his lips. “Come here.”

He opened his arms, beckoning you to seek solace in his embrace. You scooted closer, sinking into his broad chest as his arms enveloped you. Your legs were folded awkwardly beneath your body and Finnick’s back ached from the lack of support behind him, but neither of you seemed to mind.

What is love without a little suffering?

His hand stroked the length of your hair, curling random strands between his fingers in admiration. Your fingertips danced across his tanned skin, amorously tracing the words ‘I love you’ over and over. You weren’t sure if he even noticed; it didn’t really matter. The sentiment remained true.

You listened to his heart beating centimetres from your ear. Thump. Thump. Thump. And you were grateful it beat for you. You were so, so grateful for Finnick. For his strong arms that soothed you in their embrace. For his lips that released a swarm of butterflies in your stomach with just a quirk of their corners. For his voice that could lift you from the deepest, darkest pit at any given moment.

So, when you whispered, “Thank you,” it was much more than a show of appreciation for his words of reassurance. It was gratitude for his existence. His entire being. For his love which echoed your own.

“Always,” he whispered in return.

Time began to pass but you remained in the same position—holding each other closely, dearly. And then as more minutes passed, rationality began to set in. You were thinking about apologising for your dramatics, but Finnick had other ideas.

“Wait, did you say your stomach’s cramping?” he asked suddenly. You simply nodded. “Are you on your period?”

Your head turned to bury your face against his chest in embarrassment. “Yes,” your voice muffled into his shirt.

Finnick grinned to himself. He didn’t want to play the stereotype card but knowing that detail helped him understand your actions a little better now.

“Well,” he began, gently coaxing you away from his chest so he could look into your eyes. “How about you come sit with me in the kitchen, hm?” He caressed the line of your cheekbone as he spoke. “I’ll cook you some pancakes and then we can both melt into the couch all day. Does that sound good?”

You pretended to think about it for a moment, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

He made some noise between a chuckle and a scoff. “Of course. Anything else would be a culinary tragedy.”

“Oh, Finnick Odair,” you proclaimed theatrically, winding your arms around his neck as you pulled yourself further against him. “How I love you so.”

In response, his face lit up with a stupidly lovesick grin. This man will be the absolute death of me, you silently swore. You couldn’t help but lean in and press a soft endearing kiss to each dimple that hollowed his cheeks; doing so only made his smile stretch impossibly wider.

The touch of his deft fingertips settled on the sides of your cheeks, holding your face in his hands like it was his most prized possession—technically, you were. His smile never disappeared as he leaned forward, kissing you with such ardent affection that you were afraid your heart might give out from the consuming potency of his adoration.

It tasted like salt, your tears having now dried on your lips. More importantly, it tasted like love. Warm, sweet, syrupy love.

You pulled away, murmuring against his lips, “You would look hot with a wizard beard, by the way."

He chuckled lightly, sustaining the five-second break before returning to your lips to whisper the words, “I knew it.”

[isaidlandowecanbeworldchampion]

Red Lights - Lost the Breakup Part 1

Ex!Lando Norris x Reader, Oscar Piastri x reader

“You’re not exhausting.” He couldn’t stop himself. “You’re like a sip of cold water on a hot day. You’re the feeling I get sitting on the grid, waiting for those red lights. You’re exciting and terrifying and I’m sorry I waited so long to say it but…” 

A/n: Hiiii guess who's back pookies, I totally not have an anatomy paper to write and procrastinated by writing this

Next Part

“Being in a relationship while being in F1 is exhausting.. That could just be me though. “

Lando  said the words so offhandedly that you’d almost missed them, but the meaning couldn't be interpreted any differently. You were exhausting. You could see his PR person gently hit his arm at the statement and he quickly changed the subject. 

The silence in your shared hotel room wrapped around you and before you knew it you had begun to pack your suitcase. Lando wouldn’t be due back for a few hours at least and that was enough time to pack up and get to the airport. 

Your phone buzzed as you were wheeling your suitcase to sit next to the door of the room. 

OP81:  I know you saw the interview. Are you ok? 

Y/n : No.

Y/n: Did you know that he felt that way? That I’m exhausting and he’s not in love? 

OP81: I was as blindsided as you. I thought you guys were great. He always talked about how he couldn't imagine life without you. 

OP81: Have you spoken to Lando? 

Y/n: No and I'm not planning to, I’m about to head to the airport. 

OP81: Need a ride? 

25 minutes later you are sitting in the passenger seat of Oscar’s hire car on your way to the airport. He hadn’t said anything the whole ride, just peeked at you periodically as you stared at the passing cars on the highway. 

“If you’re planning on jumping out, just know I already put the child lock on… and besides a guy who thinks you’re exhausting isn't worth jumping onto the highway” He says, glancing over again. 

“Duly noted.” you say, not even glancing towards him. 

“What are you going to do when you get back to Monaco? It’ll only be two days and Lando will be back, do you have somewhere to stay?” There’s a hint of worry in his voice. You realise that you didn’t know he cared that much. 

“I’ll figure something out. I’m sure I can stay in a hotel for a few days.” 

“You can stay at my place, if you want?’ Oscar suggests, “I’ve got more rooms than I know what to do with” 

You nod slightly, “That would actually be really good, I don’t think I can face being in our flat right now.” 

Oscar smoothly pulls up at the departure gate. He pulls the suitcase from the back for you. He looks at you, his expression blank but his eyes showing a hint of concern. Oscar pulls a set of keys from his pocket. 

“Here, I’ll text you the address.” He presses the keys into your hand. “Just…”  His hand comes up to wipe across his face, “Take care, y/n” 

You nod and pull Oscar into a hug. “Thank you,osc”,  you begin to tear up, “for everything. I know he’s your friend.” 

“He may be my friend but you’re my friend too,” He says into your shoulder, “ You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Oscar leaves a gentle kiss on your cheek, and heads towards the car. You give him a tight smile and wave after him as he drives off. 

–

It was thankfully early when you arrived at Oscar’s Monaco flat. You really didn’t need any more attention on your relationship than you’d had in the past 4 hours. 

After the flood of twitter and instagram notifications regarding the comments Lando had made, it had been easier to deactivate your social media than have to look at the messages from Lando’s fans. Some were nice, sure, but the majority, or what felt like the majority, were people saying that they knew you were never good enough for him. That you’d been using him for attention or money. 

There were two messages from Lando. 

Lan: Oscar said he took you to the airport

Lan: Don’t you think you might be overreacting? 

Oscar’s flat was quiet, aside from the humm of Monaco nightlife. You never understood why New York was “the city that never sleeps” when Monaco was constantly alive from early morning cafes to midnight casino’s to the drunken groups stumbling back to hotels at 4am. 

You hadn’t left the flat for two days by the time Oscar got back on Monday morning. Curled up in bed, sporadically getting up for cups of tea before stumbling back to bed to continue the routine of crying and staring at the ceiling of the spare room. 

He knocked gently on the doorframe, leaning against it with an unreadable expression. 

“I won,” He stated. 

Your head snapped towards him at the sound of his voice, “Osc” You rasped,voice hoarse after days of crying. “What?”

“I won,” He repeated, “for you.” He cleared his throat, as if he hadn’t intended to say the second part. 

“For me?” You questioned. 

“You’re not exhausting.” He couldn’t stop himself. “You’re like a sip of cold water on a hot day. You’re the feeling I get sitting on the grid, waiting for those red lights. You’re exciting and terrifying and I’m sorry I waited so long to say it but…” 

He trailed off. “I’m sorry. I know this isn't the right time.” He turned and retreated into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. 

You stared at the ceiling of the room. How could you have not noticed? Every interaction with Oscar flashed in your mind. First meeting him while out clubbing with Lando after hearing so much about Lando’s new teammate; To late night runs to get ice cream cause Lando didn’t want to ruin his diet, that became habit on a Thursday night as Oscar needed his ‘secret weapon for the weekend; to the words Oscar had just breathed into your room.

You’re exciting and terrifying and I’m sorry I waited so long to say it but…

But what?

[autumnscribbles]

the one | drew starkey

part 2

pairing: drew starkey x married!reader

summary: after drew picked you up after your husband hurt you, it’s time to face him together

warnings: mentions of abuse, slight physical violence, not really proofread

wc: 1.9k

authors note: thank you guys so much for all the love on part 1!!! it truly means the world to me! it took me a while to think of where to take part 2, but i wanted it to be somewhat open ended so i hope you still like it!!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

The sun broke through the slight crack of the curtains, making you squint despite your eyes still being shut. Your eyes slightly opened, your mind instantly disoriented. You gasped as you quickly sat up, nervously taking in your surroundings. After a few seconds it came back to you. Derek. Last night. Drew.

The bed was vacant beside you. You remembered falling asleep with Drew last night, but you had no idea what he did after that. You smelled coffee wafting into the room, instantly craving it. You quickly threw the blankets to the side and found the kitchen, Drew’s clothes still on your body. His familiar scent comforted you and made you feel nostalgic for simpler days. Before Drew left to pursue acting, before you married Derek, before everything. You missed being carefree, riding your bike with Drew to go watch the sunset as you sipped on takeout milkshakes together. You missed when your biggest worry was what you would wear to school the next day, or what your weekend plans would be. You missed your life before all of this. Before you had to walk on eggshells around your husband, or spent every day trying to please him, or now thinking of him hurting you. You couldn’t even recognize yourself anymore.

“Morning,” Drew smiled over his shoulder. “Did you sleep okay?”

You nodded sleepily, rubbing your eye as you held back a yawn. He passed you a mug of steaming hot coffee, an attempt at latte art on the top making your lips curl up. Your eyes drifted to a blanket on the couch. Drew must have left the room once you fell asleep.

He knew you were vulnerable, and he didn’t want to take advantage of you. Didn’t want there to be any expectations or precedent for you sleeping in his bed. He didn’t want to use this as a way to insert himself in your life romantically. You needed space. Out of respect, he gently slipped out of the bed after you fell asleep, taking his place on the couch.

You sat on the couch with your coffee mug, tucking your feet under you. You let out a heavy sigh as the first sip warmed down your throat.

“Are you hungry?” Drew asked. “I can make you something.

You shook your head quickly. “I don’t think I can eat right now.”

Drew nodded solemnly, but told you that you couldn’t go the whole day without eating. At some point, he was going to make you something, no choice.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now,” you said, a lump forming in the back of your throat. “I don’t know how to face him after…”

Drew sat down beside you, leaving a comfortable space. He was treating you like you were fragile, and maybe you were. You appreciated how gentle he was being, even if the behavior usually would anger you. You never liked being treated differently, or like you were delicate.

“You can stay here as long as you need,” he told you. “And when you’re ready, I can go with you.”

“Maybe I’m just overreacting,” you sighed. “I probably deserved it, and he’s probably feeling guilty.”

“Stop,” Drew whispered, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. “You didn’t deserve that. No one deserves to be treated that way. I’m not saying this for my own benefit but you can’t go back to him.”

You nodded, knowing he was right. You always thought it would be easy to walk away in a situation like this, you didn’t realize all the nuance that came with it. Your own feelings of shame, of failure.

“We’re married,” you sighed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. “It hasn’t even been that long and I’m already in a failed marriage.”

“You didn’t fail anything, y/n,” Drew said. “He failed you as a husband. You did everything right. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I know,” you admitted, agreeing with him. You knew Drew was right, he always was. He was always the voice of reason, the little angel on your shoulder saying all the right things.

“I think I should go over there,” you uttered after a few moments of silence. “At least to get some of my stuff. I can’t just wear your clothes.”

“I’ll go with you,” he said.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙

Drew pulled up to your home, which suddenly had a cold aura around it. This wasn’t home anymore. It never would be again. You spotted Derek’s car in the driveway, meaning he was likely still home. You wondered if he went looking for you last night, if he called anyone to see where you were. Or did he just go to bed soundly, not even thinking of you?

Dread filled your body as you looked at your house from the passenger window. How were you supposed to face him?

“I don’t think I can go in there,” you mumbled, your voice laced with fear, shaking slightly. “Maybe we should come back when he’s not home.”

“Want me to go in?” he asked. “Just tell me what you need and I’ll grab it for you.”

“I don’t think it’s safe,” you replied. “He’s been giving me a hard time…about you lately. He’s going to get angry and think I cheated or something.”

Drew clenched his jaw, anger fuelling him. The audacity Derek had to be jealous of him when Derek was the one who manipulated everyone to get what he wanted. Drew had a bad taste in his mouth at the thought that they were ever friends. Now that Derek hurt you, there was no going back. No pretending.

“If he’s actually sorry, he won’t say a word,” Drew told you. “I’ll be fast, we’ll just get the essentials today and we can come back when he’s not here, like you said.”

You finally agreed, somewhat reluctantly. You didn’t want Drew to go in there alone, but you had to admit you needed some of your belongings. You needed clothes, stuff to take a shower, your phone back. You listed a few things off to Drew, explaining to him where he could find everything. He nodded quickly, telling you everything was going to be fine before he hopped out of the car, crossing the imaginary yellow tape onto your property.

Drew rapped his knuckles on the door, anxiously awaiting who would appear on the other side. The door opened to reveal Derek, looking disheveled. His hair was all over the place, a white tank top on with a stain on the front, his breath smelling like booze.

“Do you know where y/n is?” he asked frantically, not noticing you in the car on the street.

“I do,” Drew answered stoically. “I came here to pick up a few of her things.”

“What?” Derek’s voice had bite to it. “She sent her little puppy for her? Too much of a wimp to face me herself?”

Drew had told himself he would remain calm, but something broke inside him. Hearing Derek still speaking that way about you after what he had done. He couldn’t tolerate it. Drew grabbed him by his shirt and pushed him on the wall.

“You touch her again I’ll fucking kill you,” Drew sneered. “Don’t call her, don’t look for her, it’s done.”

“She can tell me that herself,” Derek chuckled. “You just think there’s hope for you. She’s my wife, Drew. I don’t care how whipped you are for her.”

“It’s not about me,” Drew said, shaking his head. “It’s not about me, or about how you lied to me our entire friendship, lied to her. You crossed a like, Derek. You were a piece of shit before but now…you’re just a monster.”

Drew could barely finish his sentence when he was blinded by the punch to his face. He groaned as he lifted his hand to his eye, his vision white and searing pain shooting through his face. Stay calm.

“Nice, Derek,” Drew nodded. “You gonna hit her like that next time? Real great man you are.”

“Don’t talk to me about my wife.”

They didn’t notice you at the door, letting yourself in. You had started to get anxious sitting in the car. You were worried about Drew. It was time to be brave, and to stand up for yourself. You gasped by the scene you were met with. Drew’s left eye was discolored, bright crimson leaking from his nostril.

“Derek,” you breathed. “What did you do?”

“Babe,” Derek smiled, rushing over to you, placing his hands on your shoulder. You noticed the blood stained on his knuckles. Drew’s blood. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean anything I- can you just come home to me? We can figure this out.”

“You punched him,” was all you could manage to choke out.

“Seriously?” he scoffed. “I’m trying to fix things and you’re focused on him? Here we go again with your little boyfriend.”

“There’s nothing to fix, Derek,” you said sternly, removing his hands from your shoulders and taking a step back. “I’m grabbing some things, and I’m leaving. You’re never going to touch me again.”

“You’re leaving me for him, right? That’s what this is?” he asked. “You’re just looking for the easy way out. I knew you were cheating on me.”

Drew stepped in to defend you, but you raised your hand at him. You knew there was a high likelihood Derek would hit him again if he had the opportunity.

“This has nothing to do with me and Drew,” you said calmly. “I was loyal to you, and a great wife. This is all your own doing. You’ll never be even a fraction of the man Drew is.”

Venom dripped in your words. You knew comparing him to Drew would hurt him, and maybe that was the point. He was constantly in competition, trying to one-up Drew, or to get you to think negatively of your friend. You were tired. Derek’s face twisted in anger, but you walked away before he had the chance to retort. You rushed to your room, quickly shoving what you needed into a bag. You felt dizzy, unable to process any of the events that had unfolded. When you came back to the foyer, Drew was by the door. His hand on the doorknob, waiting for you.

“Let’s go, Drew,” you whispered. “Goodbye Derek, don’t contact me. You can talk to my lawyer.”

With that, you were out the door, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you sat back down in Drew’s car. He slid in the drivers seat, hissing slightly as he brought his hand up to his eye.

“I can’t believe he hit you,” you muttered, tears filling your eyes, but not quite falling. Just teetering on the edge. “I shouldn’t have let you go in there.”

“It was worth it,” he said, giving you a weak smile. “I’d take the hit a thousand times over if it meant he’d never hurt you again.”

The tears spilled over, but you couldn’t help but smile anyway. “My hero.”

The tension in the car was heavy. You were unstable, feeling so many things at once. When you leaned in towards Drew, he placed a hand on your thigh, his blue eyes boring into yours.

“Take your time,” he whispered, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “You’ve been through so much. I wouldn’t feel right taking advantage of this situation after everything you’ve been through.”

“As much as I want to. I’ve been thinking about kissing you for most of my life it feels like,” he continued, letting out an airy chuckle. “But I’m not going anywhere. So take your time.”

More tears spilled down your cheeks. Drew’s slightly calloused thumb brushed them away. He leaned forward, his warm lips connecting with your forehead. The warmth lingered as he pulled away, making you shiver.

“Let’s go home.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

taglist: @percysley @snowtargaryen

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: 365 days | pgw

summary | the first year of your relationship with park gunwook, quantified by 12 separate events.

genre | park gunwook x fem!reader, high school!au, very slice of life, fluff, angst, y/n is bisexual, roughly 1 month has passed in between every part

warnings | jealousy + attempted sabotage, the horrors of girlhood (insecurity, slight mention of beauty standards, comparison)

wc | 12.7k

a/n: if you listen close enough you can hear me screaming in agony ++ can someone please remind me how to think up ideas that don't require several thousands of words

ft. youngeun and yeseo from kep1, boys planet/redstartz junhyeon, ppl i made up

i. confession

Tears bunch in your eyes as you sit behind your school building, the intensifying heat of spring embracing you like a warm hug. You feel devastated like someone had just stabbed you through the heart and left you to bleed.

“I think you’re overreacting, [First].” Youngeun’s voice is gravelly over the phone yet still uneasy, overall impacted by the sound of her gym class. Yeseo, who’s sitting next to you, hummed, although you weren’t sure if she was agreeing with Youngeun or not. “I mean, is it so bad he knows? It was bound to happen, probably.”

“Well, no, it wasn’t,” you stuttered, trying to keep the urge to sob and scream at bay. “And, to be fair, that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried about what else Yukyung was telling people without me knowing.”

Youngeun begins to speak but doesn’t get more out than a squeak, and you can almost imagine her opening and closing her mouth in an instant. Yeseo picks up the slack, saying, “Well, it’s worse to assume than to deal with the facts. Yukyung, for whatever reason, told Gunwook about your crush on him and showed him the texts, and it’s getting out among our classmates. In my opinion, there’s one course of action you should take.”

“Which is?”

“Youngeun tells Gunwook that you want to talk to him after school, and then you talk to him after school.”

You groaned audibly and Youngeun gasped, presumably in horror. You stared at her in exasperation, letting a single tear fall down your face. Yeseo wiped it off with her cardigan’s sleeve, frowning at you. “I mean, the worst that could happen is that he doesn’t feel the same way and you feel embarrassed for a couple of months. And we all unfriended Yukyung pretty much instantly, so she won’t be around anymore.”

“Doesn’t matter, still happened,” you replied. “I don’t want to see him ever again. I’d rather die than see him again.”

Yeseo put a hand on your back, while Youngeun yelped at the sound of a basketball hitting the closet she was hiding in. “I’ll ask him, and you’re gonna do it, [First]. You can’t skip a week of school during the first week of school.”

“Who said I was going to skip?”

“Every time you’re minorly embarrassed by something you skip school,” Yeseo said, looking at you like you were insane. “Like that one time you got a bad score on our math midterms during our first year and the teacher asked you what happened in front of everyone, so you skipped 2 days and sulked in your room.”

“That was warranted,” Youngeun commented, which caused Yeseo to glare at the phone. “But! Not the point. For all you know, Gunwook could like you back, and you’ll be able to say you had a boyfriend in high school. Right?”

“The chances of that are incredibly low,” you whined, drawing your knees up to your chest and burying your head in between them. “We’ve barely even talked. We just sit kind of next to each other during our cram classes, and that’s it.”

“He could be delusional too!”

“Are you calling me delusional?”

“The bell is about to ring,” Yeseo cut in, grabbing your phone out of your hands. You immediately popped out of your fetal position, reaching for it as quickly as you could. “Youngeun, leave the supply closet and ask him, please. Pick a location and text the groupchat. [First] and I have to go back to the classroom so we don’t get in trouble for skipping our study block.”

With that, she hung up and left you to your devices. The day passed agonizingly slowly after that, and you found yourself struggling to focus on anything your teacher said. At some point during your study block, Yukyung had left, leaving you alone at your desk with no seatmate to annoy or watch (not that you wanted her there, anyway) for the day. That was likely out of embarrassment, too, as now your classmates, who generally liked you, weren’t as sure on how to deal with the newfound information.

The only other thing worth noting was that, during your 5-minute break in between classes, Yeseo told your homeroom teacher what happened and she approved you switching hers and Yukyung’s desks after school, but, other than that, you felt your sanity whittling away by the minute.

Youngeun had haphazardly chosen a tree behind the gym, typically reserved for successful confessions, because she’d been staring at it out the window as she talked to Gunwook (which she described as the scariest conversation of her life) and didn’t know where else would work.

According to her, he’d blushed as she asked, accepting on the pretense that it wouldn’t take long because he promised his older brother that he’d get dinner with him that night. Initially, you lamented over the fact that you wouldn’t have anyone to stare at during your after-school classes, but it quickly dawned on you that he thought you were going to confess to him (which was true—you were going to confess to him).

Then, when you got done with class for the day, one of your classmates—Gyuvin—hit you on the shoulder on the way out with a quick “good luck!”

It took Yeseo dragging you to the gym and offering you $20 and a free fun drink afterward for you to get used to the idea you were doing this, and about another 3 minutes of you panicking at her in a hushed whisper while she told you to get over yourself. Then, Youngeun sprinted over, panting and still half in her gym clothes.

“You didn’t change after gym?”

“Not the focus! You’re actively making him wait!” she choked out, apparently exhausted from her mad dash. You rolled your eyes, dropping your bag down next to them and taking a deep breath.

“If I throw up on him, I’m going to kill you.”

With that, you began your death march to the tree, where Gunwook stood, scrolling through his phone. The sight of him made your stomach explode with butterflies, which you tried to shut down given your (supposed) fate of rejection. You were mentally preparing yourself to be in turmoil for the next few days, but deep down, all you wanted was to rewind time to when you told Yukyung about your silly, little crush and stop it from ever happening.

Your crush on Gunwook was never meant to go anywhere but your brain, and now you were walking up to him, about to pour out feelings that were half-manufactured by Yukyung convincing there was a future that would come with them.

“Hi,” you managed, causing Gunwook to spin around and shove his phone in his pocket.

“Hi,” he replied, scratching his neck as if he was unsure what to do with his hands. “Um, how are you?”

It was a stupid question, and you could tell he knew that. Of course you wouldn’t be doing well—one of your best friends told the entire world (him, and then one of his friends leaked it to the rest of the school) your entire life story (a single crush).

“Could be better.”

“Yeah.”

You looked off to the side, seeing Gyuvin and Junhyeon, who you knew were close to him, watching from a second-story window in the school building. You tried to ignore it, but you knew you’d hyperfocus on it now.

“Look, I’m sorry,” you finally breathed out, twiddling your thumbs. “Yukyung—I don’t know what to say that you don’t already know. I guess I have a bit of a crush on you. Sorry.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?” he asked, sounding genuinely perplexed. You looked back up at him, shrugging.

“Well, it’s weird. We don’t really know each other, and then a girl you don’t know very well is suddenly telling you that I’m head over heels for you.”

“You’re not?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it that way, no. Just a crush. Not much else.”

You thought there would be a weight off your shoulders once you managed to say it to his face, but it was, quite literally, the opposite. Your stomach was tightening up and your throat was closing, but you didn’t move, just staring him in the face.

“So it would be awkward if I professed my undying love for you right now.”

You flinched at that, frowning. “That was kind of mean.”

Gunwook’s face dropped when you said that, and he shook his head rapidly. “No, not—I wasn’t making fun of you, I swear. I promise. It was a bad way of saying I have a crush on you too. Sorry. Uncalled for. Didn’t mean it.”

The words fell from his mouth like an avalanche, and all you could do was stare at him in awe. “Wait, really? Why?”

“Why? I don’t know. We spend a lot of time together, even if we don’t talk often,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “We were in the same class for our first year, then we started at the same cram school, and now we sit near each other. You’re entertaining to watch when you’re taking notes.”

“You stare at me in class?” you asked, genuinely shocked at his admission. You thought you stared at him enough during the same classes that it was impossible he could’ve been doing the same thing. Apparently, he was good at catching you when you weren’t watching his every move. “Creep.”

“Like you don’t? If I’m a creep, what are you? You’re way worse than I am,” he replied. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. What now?”

You tapped your chin, looking back over at the window Gyuvin and Junhyeon had been in. They were gone now, presumably to meet Gunwook when your conversation was over. “We could try being a ‘thing.’”

“A thing?”

“I don’t think we know each other well enough for like—I don’t know, for me to call you boyfriend,” you replied. “So we can just be a ‘thing.’ No strings attached! And we can go on a date or two. Maybe.”

“A date or two? Whereabouts?”

You smiled, and he did too; you were shocked at how well he managed to goad information out of you. You tended to say things but never follow up on them, not unless you were pestered over and over again—it had taken Yeseo nearly a year to get it down.

“Do you like the zoo? Recently, I’ve been wanting to go to the zoo. They have a new baby bear—cub?—that I wanna see. Perhaps on Sunday? Are you free then?”

“I might be free on Sunday,” he said, handing his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it, pressing a couple of buttons before handing it to you with an empty contact screen open. “How about we talk about it later? I’m late for meeting my brother.”

You typed in your name and number, sending yourself a quick text so you’d be able to initiate if you felt he didn’t text you fast enough. “Sounds good to me. I’ll see you later. Tell your brother I said hello.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Gunwook chuckled. He reached out and ruffled your hair, giving you a wide, bright smile that could’ve overpowered the sun if he tried hard enough. “I’ll see you later, so we can start our ‘thing.’”

“Yup, bye-bye. See you tomorrow.”

ii. lunchtime

You and Gunwook, mostly on purpose, don’t spend a lot of time together at school. Sometimes, you say hi and smile at him when you walk into his classroom to grab Youngeun, but, other than that, you keep it separate.

For one thing, it makes it easier to keep it “no strings attached,” as you’d proclaimed the day Yukyung briefly ruined your life, but it also was somewhat fun for you and him to not address what happened. Thanks to Gyuvin, half—if not all—of your grade had heard about it, and someone had spotted the both of you under that god-forsaken tree, but you hadn’t said a thing.

For you two, it was like nothing had happened, and, for everyone else, it was like a bomb they were just hoping would go off. It was fun—like you were living out a cliche, teen drama.

So, when Gunwook sauntered into your classroom in the middle of your lunch period, proudly holding a bottle of special juice you briefly talked about wanting, you were somewhat shocked. For the most part, you weren’t mentally prepped to interact with him during the day, especially as Yukyung watched on with her new couple of friends from the corner of the room.

You, Youngeun, and Yeseo stared at him as he approached, Gyuvin following close behind. He put the drink down in front of you, a proud smile on his face. “Look,” he said, gesturing towards it, so you looked. It was a brand of juice—they advertised it as a “smoothie,” but it was just slightly thicker juice—that you’d enjoyed a lot on a trip to the United States that you’d gone on a while back.

You hadn’t seen it once in Korea, even after taking Yeseo with you to search for it for hours. “Where in the world did you get this?” you spluttered out, picking it up. It was chilled, too, as if he’d been keeping it in a refrigerator (or, an insulated lunch box with an ice pack in it).

“He didn’t,” Gyuvin snorted, putting an arm around Gunwook’s shoulder. “Junhyeon did while he was in Busan this weekend.”

Gunwook hit him hard on the chest, clearing his throat. “Do you like it? Are you excited?”

“The right flavor and everything,” you replied, a surge of joy running through you. “Thank Junhyeon for me, okay?”

Gunwook scoffed, mumbling, “It’s not like I didn’t pay him back twice the price or anything,” under his breath. You held up your fist, to which Gunwook stared at it, somewhat dumbfounded.

“What?”

“You want a fist bump from me?” he asked incredulously. You nodded, exaggerating the movements to make it seem like he was missing the obvious. So, he bumped your fist with his, shaking his head. “See you after school, [First].”

“Yup, I’ll see you.”

And you watched him walk out, Gyuvin in tow—and, from the corner of your eye, you saw Yukyung watching his every move, up until he left the classroom.

iii. field trip

The third-year field trip was something you’d looked forward to for a long time—as a way to force students to take a break from their studying, your school sent all the first years to some fun location, paying for most of it with donations they got from alumni and parents.

This year, they’d had the bright idea to send you all to Hawaii, which had been both shocking and exciting. The farthest they’d ever sent anyone was Jeju, and that was a few years ago; but, they’d got some huge donation this year and decided to splurge.

So far, the trip had been fun, for the most part. On the airplane, you’d forced Gunwook to sit next to you so that you could hold his hand every time the plane shook (he’d laughed at you over your fear of turbulence, but you were too aware of the fact that he was rubbing your hand with his thumb to care). Almost all of your classmates, to whom you had not disclosed the nature of your “thing” yet, had stared at you every time they walked past. About halfway through, Youngeun, who’d volunteered to be the third wheel, leaned over and told you she was pretty sure the news was making its way down the plane, and people were getting up to fact-check it for the row members.

“That’s stupid,” Gunwook laughed, pulling your hand onto his tray table. “Doesn’t everyone know [First] is just afraid of planes? Nothing else going on here, not at all.”

Then Yeseo had popped her head above her seat and turned around to face you, an eyebrow raised. “Have you two kissed yet?” she’d asked out of nowhere, to which you shrugged.

“Why would we kiss when nothing is going on?”

Then, upon arrival, you and Gunwook had sat next to one another on the bus to the hotel, to which you’d promptly fallen asleep on his shoulder (since you didn’t sleep much on the plane) for the entire ride. You woke up to him holding your hand again, scrolling through his phone haphazardly.

After that, you’d had all eyes on the both of you—when you got to the hotel, while you were listening to your teachers give instructions, while keys were being handed out. And, as a result of what you assumed was anxiety over not knowing English, Gunwook and his two friends, Junhyeon and Gyuvin, followed you, Yeseo, and Youngeun around for the entire trip.

Then, on the third day of the trip, Gunwook asked if you’d want to go on a date with him. The idea was silly to you—not because you didn’t want to, but because you were two teenagers going on a date on your almost-all-expenses-paid trip to Hawaii.

That’s what you were doing now. It was the day before you were to head back home, and Gunwook had, for lack of a better word, taken you out. To a fancy restaurant—where he made you translate the entire menu and order for him—and to get some sort of fancy pineapple dessert afterward. Now, you were strolling on the beach, watching the sun fall below the horizon slowly but surely.

“How much longer until curfew?” you asked, turning around to face him. You continued walking backward, lacing your hands together behind your back.

“About half an hour. We’re close enough to the hotel that we don’t have to start walking back now, but we should think about it soon.”

You hummed, stopping abruptly. You faced the shoreline, listening to the sound of the waves draw in and out like breaths from a sleeping person. It was so alive, yet not at the same time, and it mesmerized you; you’d never seen an ocean like this before.

“You look pretty tonight,” he mused, staring at you rather than the ocean. You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the comment.

“Look at yourself in the mirror.”

“I’m not pretty, I’m beautiful, thank you very much.”

A question was bubbling up in your throat now, much like the water in front of you. You felt a surge of anxiety wash through your stomach, and you were mentally transported back to that tree from a couple of months ago. The pure embarrassment you felt was gone and replaced with a sort of hope that was more painful than uplifting, as if it was a glass cup teetering on the edge of a table.

“I have a question,” you started, banishing the unease from your stomach.

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. He wouldn’t look away from you, no matter how much you tried to focus on the sight in front of you. A crooked smile bloomed on his face which should’ve quelled your worries in an instant, but, for some reason, it only made them worse. “I suppose I have an answer for you.”

“Do you?”

“I just might, if you manage to ask the question.”

“Okay, here I go,” you said, mustering up all your courage and turning to face him. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and you immediately felt discouraged just looking at him. He was right—he was beautiful, almost impossibly so. Yet, here you were, boring and average, barely even able to hold a T to him. Plus, the only reason you were even here was because someone you’d considered a best friend had told him you liked him, and now you were getting into your head over something that was long over.

His smile dropped a bit when he (most likely) realized you were panicking a bit, but he didn’t say anything, simply waiting patiently for you to continue. You forced yourself to regain focus, shaking your head as the image of Yukyung permeated in your mind. He grabbed both of your hands as a way to help soothe the worry, and it worked as well as it could, pulling you back into reality.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend, maybe?” you finally asked, watching as his face lit up against the sun.

“Do I?” he asked back, allowing himself to smile fully. “This is the best question I’ve ever been asked. Seriously.”

“Seriously?”

Gunwook giggled, swinging your hands around a bit. “Can I kiss you? Pretty please?”

“Can you?” you mimicked, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. Gunwook giggled again, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. It was slow and sweet, his lips soft and tasting slightly of the pineapple you’d had earlier. He laughed and smiled through the entire thing, squeezing your hands in delight before letting go and wrapping his hands around your waist. As cliche as it was, you draped your hands around his neck, starting to giggle too.

When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours, still chuckling in delight. “This is so exciting,” he said, rocking you back and forth on the sand. “I’m so excited. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this for my entire life, you know? Even if I’ve only known you for three years. I can’t explain it—it’s unexplainable. I’m so excited.”

“You know what, I’m getting the idea you might be excited.”

And Gunwook shut you up with another elated kiss, ending your night in an impenetrable wall of pure joy.

iv. sleepover

Your parents were adventurers and you decidedly weren’t, which often meant you had your house to yourself. It was nice, mostly because it allowed you to spread out all your study stuff on the dining room table and do all of your work right then and there without your parents talking to you every 20 seconds.

Sometimes, though, things didn’t go as planned, and you had to do things you didn’t want to do. Namely, spend the night in the house completely alone. Every creak or thump made your heart beat out of your chest, which ended up in you taking a knife and a flashlight through the entire house with the emergency number pre-dialed.

Oftentimes, it ended with you not sleeping and then having to miss school because of over-exhaustion.

You were sitting in your living room while on the phone with Gunwook (he claimed you were moral support for his studying) when your mom texted you, the message starting with a bunch of emojis, which was her way of beginning a message with bad news.

“Oh god,” you said, cutting through the hour-long silence you’d maintained with your boyfriend.

“Huh? What’s up?”

“My mom texted me. There’s some huge accident on the freeway, so they’ve got the entire thing blocked off. Traffic is awful on other routes so they’re just going to pull off to a motel and sleep there tonight.”

“Oh no,” he said, and you could tell he was preoccupied with whatever math problem he was doing. “House to yourself, I guess?”

“I’m glad it’s Saturday,” you said, frowning. “I’m not gonna get any sleep tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like being completely alone in the house. I’m convinced someone’s gonna come in and kill me.”

“Hmm,” Gunwook hummed, pausing briefly. “I could come over and stay the night? I’ll leave early in the morning so they don’t find out I was there.”

Realistically, you knew you should say no because the chance of your parents finding out about Gunwook terrified you, but you had poor judgment and liked your boyfriend too much to turn down seeing him. “Would you actually? It’s kind of late, and I wouldn’t want to make you walk that much in the dark.”

“It’s not that far of a walk,” he said, and you could hear him packing his school stuff already. The sound of pencils clinking against pencils and books closing made you feel all warm and fuzzy—instead of studying for the test that was going to decide his fate as an adult, he was coming to make sure you felt comfortable and safe.

“Oh yeah, because 30 minutes is ‘not that far.’ Just get it over with and tell me you’re in love with me.”

Gunwook cleared his throat at your quip, choking on air. You snickered, finding how flustered he got at the “L-word” quite cute (as if you wouldn’t do the same thing). “I’ll be there shortly.”

He hung up the phone without saying bye, most likely out of embarrassment, which made you feel proud of yourself. And, true to his word, he showed up about fifty minutes later, balancing his school backpack on one arm and another bag on the other. “Do you know how hard it is to jump out of your window with two bags?” he asked, walking into your house as if it was his own. You wondered if he cared about the fact that he’d never actually been inside before, given he’d only ever walked you home, but you assumed his unwillingness to do his usual hello-and-hug meant he was somewhat flustered by it.

“Are you moving in, or something? What’s in the bags?”

“Well, I can’t stay the night without all my nighttime stuff,” he huffed, breezing past you and dropping his bags off next to the stairs. You watched him look around frantically, and you somewhat assumed that he’d hung up on you because he’d realized what exactly he had suggested and had no way of backing out of it now (you hoped he hadn’t even thought about backing out).

“You’re such a diva,” you scoffed, shuffling back into your living room and returning to your position on the couch. He sat next to you, leaning against the armrest and putting his legs on top of yours. You rolled your eyes, picking up the remote and pressing play.

“So, what are we watching?”

“Whatever romcom was playing when I turned the TV on,” you replied, keeping your focus on the screen. Suddenly you were feeling embarrassed even though you’d been feeling so egotistical a second ago, as you were realizing you were in more danger here than he was. He’d successfully snuck out (or so he said, but you were pretty sure he probably told his mom and then snuck out the window to avoid his dad finding out), but your parents lived here, and if they got here before you were expecting them, it was over for you.

It dawned on you that you needed to find out when they were planning on getting back, so you wrenched your phone out of your pocket, furiously typing to your mother. Gunwook noticed, pointing at you and laughing. “You were so high and mighty a second ago, and now look at you. Somebody realized they’re going to be in bigger shit than I am.”

“Shut your mouth,” you hissed, watching the little bubble that indicated your mom was typing.

“Maybe we should send her a selfie, huh? Just so she knows a random teenage boy that she doesn’t know is in her house,” Gunwook continued, sucking all of the confidence you’d once had out of the air. “She’d be super excited, right?”

“If you’re not out of my house by 5:30 tomorrow morning, I’m going to break up with you,” you announced, glaring at him. He made a face at you, shaking his head.

“Be glad I like you so much. Waking up at 5:30 is brutal. I didn’t even do that when Gyuvin got his appendix out and texted me thirty times to ask if I’d be there when he got out of surgery.”

“You liar, Gyuvin literally told me that you showed up with flowers and a get-well-soon card.”

Gunwook blushed at that, clearing his throat. “Okay, whatever, fine. Let’s just watch the movie.”

The two of you got about twenty minutes of the romcom in before he checked the time and announced that you were both going to sleep. You said he could go on his own—midnight was early for both of you, and you weren’t the one waking up at 5:30—but he got all whiney, turning the TV off and picking you up from the couch.

You’d gone through the motions of your nighttime routine together, with Gunwook’s being about fifty steps longer than yours. You ended up sitting on the floor while he put on a million serums and waited thirty minutes in between each one, claiming it was to “let each product soak into his skin.”

You texted Youngeun and Yeseo about it, not thinking about the implications behind waiting for him to finish his skincare routine. Immediately, they began blowing up your phone, and you promptly muted your group chat and their individual text threads, not wanting to deal with the onslaught of questions they were likely unleashing onto you.

Then, you looked up to see Gunwook putting on a lip mask. Knowing it was probably the last step in his routine, you hopped up from the floor, staring at the small, pink container that the gel lived in. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to try that out,” you said, not thinking about it too hard. “Is it nice? Does it work?”

“Shouldn’t you know better than anyone whether it works or not?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You slapped him hard on the shoulder, causing him to yelp in pain. “Okay, geez, yes, it works. Do you want to try some?”

“Oh, can I—”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Gunwook leaned down and kissed you somewhat hard, almost causing you to stumble back a bit. Either way, you almost immediately broke it off, incredibly flustered at the act. You slapped him again, although this time it was a million times weaker. “You’re so stupid, oh my god, you cliche loser.”

“Be grateful I was willing to give you any, this stuff is expensive,” Gunwook said, cackling. He put a bit more on his finger, rubbing it into his lips to compensate for what he lost from kissing you. “I thought you liked kissing me, no?”

“I also like the thought of you getting hit by a train. These things aren’t mutually exclusive,” you huffed, looking to the side. “Whatever. I’m going to my room.”

“Ooh, me too,” he said, draping an arm around your shoulders as you walked past him. He kept himself in step with you, flicking the bathroom light switch off as you both exited the room.

“Who said we’re sleeping in the same room?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Gunwook laughed in your face, causing you to frown.

“Okay, sure, but one noise and you’ll be prancing into the guest room like a scared dog.” “Who said I had a guest room? Go to the couch.” You wiggled out from under his arm, opening the door to your bedroom and flicking the lights on. Gunwook continued following after you, but quickly walked past you and climbed under the duvet on your bed. Somehow, he’d already plugged his phone in and put his bags neatly in the corner of your room—it must’ve been when he walked out to grab his toner pads from his bag—and had settled into your bedroom quite nicely. You stared at him in awe as he yawned, patting the bed next to him.

“It’s bedtime.”

“For you.”

He laughed at you again, patting the bed once more. You shut your bedroom door behind you, turning your phone’s flashlight on and turning the lights off as soon as they’d come on. You shuffled over to the bed, sliding in next to him and cuddling up to him. He reciprocated, putting an arm on your waist and giggling.

“You giggle too much.”

“Good night, [First]. I won’t wake you up tomorrow morning, but I’ll be out by 5:30. Promise.”

Even though you weren’t tired, you fell asleep like a baby next to Gunwook, basking in the warmth he brought. You were pretty sure you’d fallen asleep before him, actually, but you swore up and down it was because he’d been humming to you and rubbing your back in a way that was more relaxing than you would’ve liked it to be.

So, when you woke up the next morning, the sun barely peeking through your curtains, to find him gone, you felt relief. You groaned, turning over to search for your phone, which was, as always, placed on your bedside table.

You picked it up, barely being able to make out the time—5:01 am. Huh, you thought, frowning. He left earlier than he needed.

And then you looked at your notifications—three texts from your mother.

2:34 am—Hi honey, the motel was uncomfortable and we couldn’t sleep, so we’re getting an early start. I know you get paranoid, and I hope you’re not awake, but texting to let you know just in case you are. Should be there about 4:30.

3:47 am—Update, we’ve hit some early traffic, so probably closer to 4:45. It might still be 4:30 if we’re lucky.

Finally, 4:11 am—We got lucky!!! We’ll be there in 10. Assuming you’re asleep…am glad. Can’t wait to be in my own bed.

You shot up from your bed, suddenly feeling more awake than you’d ever been in your life. With what little sunlight there was, you looked to the corner of the room, clearly seeing two black bags that didn’t belong to you. Then, an extra phone on your nightstand.

Panic set in. You, as quietly as you could, got out of bed, shuffling to the door. With a hand haphazardly placed on the knob, you pulled your door open, cringing at even the slightest of noises. You heard the sound of a glass hitting your table downstairs, and you felt like crying.

Slowly, you tiptoed down the stairs, catching sight of Gunwook, blue sweater on and exhaustion written on his face, sitting across from both of your parents. Breakfast was ready on the table, and Gunwook had a full plate in front of him, but it had barely been touched.

He noticed you first, looking up at you from the table. He looked violently uncomfortable, pleading for you to come save him, and you just about turned around and went back to your room.

“[First],” your dad said, turning his head to look at you. “Why don’t you come join us? I suppose you have a few things to explain.”

v. ice cream

You loved summer for a multitude of reasons—the lack of school, the increase in fun treats, and the overall happiness that came upon everyone during your one month off of responsibility. So, when you caught wind of a fair opening up, you knew you couldn’t pass up going.

Your first invites were Yeseo and Youngeun, since the three of you always spent your summers at amusement parks and pop-ups. But, they’d had the bright idea to invite along your boyfriend and his couple of friends—it would be okay, they said, since there’s three of you and three of them. So, you did, and you were entirely grateful that you had.

You didn’t know Gyuvin or Junhyeon very well before today; Gyuvin tended to follow Gunwook around, and Junhyeon had bought you juice once upon a time, but that was about it. It was the same for Gunwook and your couple of friends, as the most they’d interacted with him was on your plane ride to Hawaii.

Seeing your friends getting along with his warmed your heart, and it had put together a day you would never forget, most likely. About twenty minutes ago, your four accompaniments had made up some excuse as to why they needed to separate from the two of you, which had left you strolling through the fair as the sun was beginning to set.

The sky had erupted into a million different colors, namely pinks and purples, which you were particularly enamored by. You’d endearingly linked your arm with Gunwook’s and you’d been walking through the local artist alley that they’d put up.

“I’m glad it’s cooling down,” you said, staring at a booth where a woman was showing off all of her handmade jewelry pieces, which you found to be quite impressive. “As much fun as a fair is, it always sucks when it’s too hot to enjoy.”

“It wasn’t that hot today, though, was it?” he replied. “I mean, it got warm around 3, but that was just about it. I thought today was relatively tame compared to the rest of the week.”

“Okay, Fireboy, whatever you say. But, for the record, tame compared to the rest of the week doesn’t mean much when it was nearly 35° the other day,” you scoffed. Gunwook chuckled, and you looked over at him, intending on continuing to talk about the heat. But, a booth behind him caught your eye, distracting you from whatever you were planning on saying next.

You unlocked your arm from his, smiling mischievously at him. “Wait here,” you said excitedly, pulling your wallet out of your tote bag. You quickly walked over to the ice cream booth that you’d seen in the distance, the thought of how cold it would be tainting your mind. Even just a little bit of freedom from the heat was enough to sweep you off your feet, at this point.

“What would you like?” the server asked, to which you smiled at her, staring at the menu.

“Um, just two vanilla cones, please,” you said, realizing you had no clue what flavor of ice cream he’d even want. You hoped he didn’t have a terrible disdain for vanilla, but you doubted he did, given you’d never seen him actively dislike any food in your life. You got the amount of money it cost out of your wallet and placed it on the counter, shoving your wallet back in your bag.

The server handed them to you, and you thanked her, turning back around to hobble back to where you’d left Gunwook. And, as you did, you were met with quite possibly the worst sight in the world—he stood off to the side of the jewelry booth talking to someone. Namely, he was talking to Yukyung.

Of course she would be here—before she’d broken your trust, she tagged along on your summer adventures. She was your best friend once upon a time, and now, she was not much other than a bad memory, and she was talking to your boyfriend.

You didn’t know how to describe the feeling it evoked. It wasn’t jealousy—you knew what jealousy felt like, and this was too mellow and depressing to be jealousy. Yukyung looked gorgeous, as she always did, dressed in a pretty, flowy, red sundress that just barely brushed against the tops of her shoes. Her makeup was perfect and rosy to match the dress, and she’d braided white ribbon into her hair, which you thought made her look even more elegant than she had before.

Oh, you thought, biting your lip. This is inadequacy.

You watched them talk, and you watched the way she smiled and the way he seemed uncomfortable just from the way he stood. For a brief moment, you thought they even looked a bit good together, but that thought was quickly washed away when you felt ice cream drip onto your finger.

When you looked back up, she was gone, and Gunwook had gone back to lingering. You shook your head, jogging up to him with a smile. “Happy summer,” you said, handing it out to him. He smiled back at you, taking the ice cream cone from your hand.

“Thank you,” he said, taking a big bite straight from the top. You widened your eyes in shock and your face distorted into one of disgust.

“You bite ice cream?”

“And what about it? Do you have a problem with it?”

“Yeah, actually, I do. That’s weird and strange.”

“You know what else is weird and strange?”

“Huh?”

“The fact that you’re letting your ice cream melt all over your hand.”

vi. overwhelmed

You’re wondering how long you can get away with staying in the bathroom before someone notices that you’ve been gone for much longer than you were expecting. You hug your knees to your chest, playing a mindless game in hopes it’ll calm you down at least somewhat.

You knew this would happen at some point—every upperclassman you’d talked to told you that, in the months approaching your college entrance exams, your mental health would plummet. From panic attacks in the bathroom during math classes to not being able to fall asleep until four in the morning.

You just underestimated how much it sucked to feel like this in the first place. You’re no stranger to stress, that much is certain, but this was much more real. And, this sort of panic hit you anywhere and everywhere—including Gyuvin’s birthday party.

Briefly, you glanced at the time—8:02. You’d been in the bathroom for about 10 minutes, and nobody had come looking for you yet, which was good. The bad news was that you weren’t any closer to calming down and were feeling utterly helpless.

As if you’d jinxed yourself, Gunwook texted you at that very moment, asking where you’d gone. You half-assed your reply, saying you were still in the bathroom taking a break from the chaos, ignoring the temptation to ask him to come help you. It would be mean to Gyuvin and him—so, for the sake of your sanity, you’d stay quiet.

Meanwhile, Gunwook stood in one of Gyuvin’s hallways, staring at his phone. Junhyeon had followed him back as Gyuvin was well entertained by Ricky, who he hadn’t seen in nearly a year, and stood next to him, leaning against the wall.

“Things have been weird lately.” Gunwook frowned, reading over your text again and again. Junhyeon tilted his head inquisitively.

“Weird how?”

“Just…I don’t know, she’s been weirdly distant from time to time. Everything will be fine, and she’ll shut off with no warning. It happens no matter where we are, too—if we’re studying, if we’re walking home, if we’re eating dinner. It’s strange.”

“Could it just be test jitters? I know a lot of couples who broke up in anticipation of the test, with plans to get back together afterward. Like Yuna and Jaechan, in class 4. They did that.”

Gunwook’s frown deepend. “I don’t want to break up with her, though,” he sighed, watching as the typing bubble on your end appeared and disappeared. “Would it be weird to look for her? Like would she find that strange?”

“She probably walked off because she didn’t want to take you away from Gyuvin, but Ricky’s here now, so I don’t think it would be a bad idea, per se,” Junhyeon said, patting his shoulder. “But make sure she doesn’t feel bad taking you away from everything. I think Gyuvin would understand. And Ricky wants to meet her, so no harm in making sure nothing’s wrong.”

Gunwook bit the edge of his lip, shoving his phone into his pocket. Gunwook gave Junhyeon a pat on the shoulder, and he nodded, walking back toward the bulk of the party.

The bathroom was behind a bed sheet curtain that Gyuvin had hung up before the party, with a lame “do not enter” sign taped to it. He’d proceeded to give you, Gunwook, and Junhyeon special permission to break the rules, as the three of you had been in the house before and knew which rooms were okay to enter and which ones weren’t.

The door was closed and the light was on, which meant you’d gone out of your way to go to the off-limits bathroom, where Yeseo and Youngeun wouldn’t be able to find you. He frowned, raising his hand to knock on the door.

Then, he heard a small sniffle behind the door and stopped. Gunwook had never seen you cry—early into your relationship, you’d told him you weren’t a crier, and not many things pushed you to that point. At the time, it had been relieving, as he didn’t know you well enough to even attempt to comfort you.

But, now a good three months had passed, and he still had no clue what to do, which made him feel more stressed than relieved. Nevertheless, now that he knew, he couldn’t just leave you, so he knocked on the door.

Your response was, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Gunwook took that as an invitation to open the door, finding you sitting on the floor of Gyuvin’s bathroom while holding your phone. You weren’t crying, but he could tell you were close to it. He slipped inside, closing the door behind him, and sitting next to you on the ground.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, scooting closer to you so you’d be shoulder-to-shoulder. You shrugged, looking off to the side.

“I’m stressed. You know, with the college entrance exams and graduating stuff, the world is just a lot right now. I didn’t think it would hit here, though, but the number 18 being passed around made me think about it too much. It’s silly.”

“No, it’s not,” Gunwook replied. “It’s okay to be stressed out about something stressful, even if you’re at a birthday party. And it’s okay to tell me because Gyuvin’s friend came to surprise him after he moved to California, so he’s not upset that I’m gone. Okay?”

Your lip quivered a bit, and Gunwook put his arm around you, pressing you into his side. He rubbed your shoulder reassuringly as you sniffled again, obviously having to try harder to keep your feelings in.

At that moment, you wanted to spew everything at him. Your feelings of insecurity towards Yukyung, the stress you felt knowing he was going to get into some fancy university and you probably weren’t, how scary everything was right at this moment.

But, you stayed quiet and chose to burst into tears instead. The moment one tear escaped from your eye, the rest did, too, and you found yourself crying into Gunwook’s chest. He was rocking you back and forth, rubbing your back while you covered his shirt in your tears.

You felt miserable—if you could, you wanted to pause time, run outside, and scream. At what, you were unsure, but you needed it, more than you needed anything else in the entire world. You could only take this for so much longer.

“I’m here for you,” Gunwook whispered, squeezing you gently. “I’ll always be here, I promise.”

You took his words to heart.

vii. wisdom teeth

On day four of Gunwook’s wisdom-teeth recovery, you’d been asked to be his caregiver, which you were okay with. His mom, who was infinitely grateful that you’d offered to take care of her son, assured you that he was technically cleared to go back to normal after day 3, but he was still feeling a bit wonky, and his pain medicine enhanced the wonkiness.

Your jobs were as such: make soup or mashed potatoes when he asked, remind him to clean his wounds if he forgets, and hang out with him. You found the list quite easy and told his mom that you’d make sure he was all good and cared for.

You underestimated, however, how needy your boyfriend would be. The moment you’d walked into his bedroom to wake him up, he attached himself to you, whining about how much he’d missed you over the past few days. He spoke as if you’d gone off to war and left him behind with your nonexistent children, insisting that your absence had ruined his life.

After you managed to make him brush his teeth, spray salt water into his mouth, and eat his breakfast (a bowl of yogurt), he passed out on the couch, leaving you to do whatever seemed appealing at the moment. Initially, you spent your time scrolling through all the selfies he’d sent you of his face all swollen and puffy, which had got you giggling. Then, you had the bright idea to help 

You started by slightly cleaning his room up, feeling pretty good about yourself as you washed his clothes and his sheets. In your mind, you were building a resume to ensure his mom liked you, and you were going to earn extra affection from it, so you didn’t care about the repetitiveness at all.

About halfway through your cleaning adventures, Gunwook appeared in the doorway of his bedroom, staring at you folding the load of laundry you did. “How are you?” you asked, continuing to fold his t-shirts.

“Have I ever told you that you’re perfect?” he mumbled, shuffling over and draping himself onto you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and shoved his face into your neck, nearly knocking you over by putting his entire weight on you without warning.

“Only every day,” you replied, giggling. “Seriously though, how are you? Anything feel off or more painful than it did before you napped?”

“No,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your neck. “Stop sounding like my mom. It’s weird.”

“What do you want me to say? ‘I hope you get dry socket?’”

“It’s better than mom-speak,” he replied. “She’s going to love you after today. Not gonna shut up about it.”

“That’s the entire reason that I’m doing all of this.”

“And not to help out your hurting boyfriend? You’re terrible.”

You scoffed, finishing folding the rest of his clothes. “Are you hungry?”

You patted his arm and Gunwook unattached himself from you, letting you turn around to face him. He rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. “No. I’m so glad you’re here. I missed you a lot.”

“Did you?”

“My mom said I cried about you being at school right after I got out of surgery,” he replied. You widened your eyes, not expecting him to be that forward about it. “I don’t like being away from you for so long. I hope we never, ever separate.”

You smiled, half-heartedly punching him in the shoulder. “I hope you stay this nice even after you feel fully better.”

Gunwook gave you a serious look as if he was thinking hard about something. You waited awkwardly, staring at one another as he sounded out whatever he was thinking in his head. “Over the past few days, I’ve been thinking a lot about something.”

“Which is…?”

“I’m going to say something,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders. “I’m not expecting a reply. I just need to say it. I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“Okay, go on ahead. I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as if whatever he was going to tell you was stressing him out. It made you get a bit anxious, wondering if he was going to break some terrible news to you. “Over the past couple of days, I’ve missed you a lot, more than I missed Gyuvin and Junhyeon combined. And it was hard only being able to talk to you through texting, even though I only text my friends for days on end sometimes. And it got me thinking about everything, you know? Because it’s all I’ve had to entertain myself since I got my teeth pulled.”

“Right.”

“I love you, [First]. A lot. And it’s okay if you’re not ready to say that yet, I get it. But I do. Truthfully. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

It felt like a rock was stuck in your throat. You opened your mouth expecting words to come out, but they didn’t—so, you just stood there, staring at Gunwook. He stared back at you, eyes glossy from tiredness and cheeks pink. You weren’t ready—the words were so big and so scary, and it wasn’t that you didn’t love him, you just couldn’t find the words to say it.

Your solution to this was to engulf him in a hug, latching to his waist like you’d done a second ago. No words were needed as he did the same, and, for a while, you stood there, enjoying one another’s company.

viii. mirrors

You don’t remember the last time you’ve felt this gross when looking into a mirror. The dress you’re wearing is gorgeous—it’s long, flowy, and summery, the type of dress that doesn’t look bad on anyone. Yet, staring at yourself right now, you feel utterly disgusting.

It’s the same type of dress you saw Yukyung wearing at the fair, and, when you look at yourself, all you can do is compare yourself to her. Even when you were best friends, this was a problem you had, but it wasn’t nearly as awful when she made you feel safe and loved. Now, it felt threatening and nauseating.

Gunwook knocked on the door of your dressing room, causing you to wince. “[First], are you done? Can I see?”

“Yeah, sure. One second.”

You quickly retied the bow around your waist, hoping it would make you feel a little less awful. It didn’t have the intended effect, but you turned around anyway, opening the door to the dressing room. Gunwook’s expression bloomed into a smile the moment he saw you, but, instead of feeling loved, you only remembered the way he looked at Yukyung with slight disdain at the fair while she wore the same thing.

“You look so beautiful,” he said, which caused you to subconsciously frown. He noticed immediately, his smile morphing into a frown to mirror you. “What’s wrong? Do you not like it?”

You turned around, staring at yourself in the mirror once more. “I don’t feel pretty in it,” you said, trying to be as upfront with your emotions as you could. You saw Gunwook’s jaw drop in his reflection in the mirror as if he couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“How in the world could you not feel pretty? It fits you perfectly, and it’s entirely on theme for your cousin’s wedding. You look gorgeous, I swear. Everyone would agree with me.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, hoping and praying that, if he said it for a third time, the image of Yukyung in your mind would miraculously go away. He nodded earnestly, making the most serious look you’d ever seen him produce.

“One thousand percent. And I’m not just saying it because I’m your boyfriend, I mean it. You look beautiful, and every other synonym of beautiful. I’m serious.”

You nodded, fabricating a smile so you could take it off and put your sweater back on. “Okay, I’ll get it then. I’m sure my mom will agree.”

You shut the dressing room door, fighting the urge to slam your head into the mirror. You just pulled the dress off of you, replacing it with your normal clothes and putting it back on the hanger, swiftly exiting the room so you’d no longer be facing the mirror.

After that, you’d tried to escape the mall as quickly as you could, dragging Gunwook through the corridors like you were on a mission. He’d followed without saying anything, but you could tell he was somewhat confused—and you hoped that confusion would go away when you arrived at the bus stop just as it arrived.

Gunwook knew you better than that, though, shooting you multiple inquisitive looks for the duration of your bus ride. And, the moment you got off, he whistled a small tune, which was a clear sign that he was going to bring it up.

“So, what’s up?”

“What do you mean?” You feigned ignorance, hoping he’d get the message and leave it alone. He wouldn’t, though, and it was now a question of whether he meant today only, or why you’d been acting so strange over the past month or so.

“You’ve been acting weird for a while, [First]. Not all the time, just sometimes, and it has me worried. Did I do something? Or is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“I’m just on edge,” you lied, clearing your throat. “Exams are next month. I don’t like the idea that a single test could dictate the rest of my life, and the idea that, if I do poorly, I have to spend another year studying for it.”

“Are you sure that’s it? You seem fine every time we’re studying, and your grades are good. You don’t ask for nearly as much help as you did a few months ago either.”

“I promise. Things will go back to normal next month, I swear.”

“Okay.”

Great, you thought, kicking a rock on the sidewalk. He knew you were lying, and now you had one month to fix your ex-best-friend troubles before you had to face your issues. And, you had no idea how.

You kicked the rock again, and it flew out in the street, falling into a storm drain, never to be seen again.

ix. exams

Before today, you didn’t think your hands could hurt this bad. Nor did you think your brain could hurt this bad, either.

The moment you walked into Gunwook’s room, you drop everything you’re holding, face-planting into his bed. He laughed at you, and you could hear him neatly placing everything he was holding onto his desk.

“How can you unpack things right now?” you asked, mentally praising whoever created mattresses. “I feel like my brain is short-circuiting.”

“I’m good at school stuff, that’s why,” he replied. Outside, the rain that you’d dealt with walking to his house got worse, and you briefly considered the possibility that you wouldn’t be returning home tonight unless one of your parents were willing to drive to Gunwook’s house. “Do you want something else to wear? Other than your uniform.”

“Really?” you asked, hopping out of his bed. He nodded, opening his drawer and taking out a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants.

“They’ll probably be a little big,” he said, handing them to you. You waved him off, shaking your head.

“They’re not this god-awful uniform, so they’re winners in my book.”

You practically skipped out of his room and into the bathroom, changing into the pajamas he’d given you hastily. They were soft and smelled like the detergent his mom bought (which smelled exactly like you thought Gunwook would smell, back when you just had a delusional crush on him).

Before you went back to his room, you folded your uniform, giving yourself a once over in the mirror. You looked exhausted and you felt it too, overloaded from the hours of straight testing that you’d endured for the sole purpose of going to university. You were so tired you couldn’t even muster the strength to be worried about your test scores.

You shuffled back into Gunwook’s room, shutting the door behind you. He was already laying down, scrolling through his phone and wearing the black-and-white sweater he’d been so obsessed with recently. You put your uniform on top of your bag, which he’d moved to a chair in the corner of his room, before collapsing on top of him and forcing your hands around his waist.

The act caused him to laugh at you before ruffling your hair, kissing you atop the crown of your head. “I’m proud of you,” he said, and you felt his chest rumble as he talked. “I’m sure you did well.”

“Stop being sappy,” you replied, suddenly feeling a lot more tired than you had been. “But I’m proud of you too. I know you did well.”

He hummed, and you assumed he went back to scrolling through his phone, which you weren’t angry about. You had about five minutes before you fell asleep on him, and you were fine spending it in complete silence save for whatever random thought you had.

“Oh, did you see the Yuna-Jaechan reunion? It was, like, dramatic. He gave her some super expensive necklace or something.”

“I didn’t see it, but I heard about it. Junhyeon hasn’t shut up about it. He thinks it’s hilarious.”

“If we’d done the CSAT breakup, would you have bought me a super expensive necklace?”

“We wouldn’t have, but I would’ve bought you the most expensive necklace ever. With Gyuvin’s money.”

“Aw, how romantic.”

It went quiet again, and you felt yourself fading quickly. The rhythmic up-and-down of Gunwook’s chest paired with the rain pitter-pattering against the window was putting you to sleep with ease, to the point where you could barely keep your eyes open.

And then a bright flash and near-immediate thunder awoke you instantly, causing you to flinch hard. Gunwook laughed at you instantly, causing you to feel embarrassed.

“Oh, is someone afraid of thunder?”

“No,” you huffed, closing your eyes again. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Okay, whatever you say. But that jump was pretty intense. I almost thought you were convulsing, was scared that the test had killed you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Good night, [First]. Sleep well.”

Now aware that you were enduring a thunderstorm, the booming noise that came with the rain only added to your sleepiness. Within minutes, you were almost completely asleep, barely able to register when Gunwook laughed at something on his phone or shifted slightly.

“I love you,” he whispered, putting a single hand on your waist. With that, you were asleep and entirely dead to the world for the next few hours.

x. gossip

You didn’t like the way Youngeun was looking at you. She couldn’t keep secrets—it was obvious she knew something, but you couldn’t figure out what exactly she could know.

Yeseo, on the other hand, seemed completely fine, even if Youngeun kept giving her worried glances. She simply drank her juice, mixing her noodles around with seemingly no intent to actually eat them. It was silent at your table, the sun beating down on you as you sat outside the 7/11 you’d all agreed to go to after school that day.

“What is up with you two?” you finally asked, frustrated with whatever was happening. Youngeun winced and Yeseo put her drink down, balancing her chopsticks on top of her bowl of ramen. It was silent for a few moments, and you felt anxiety eating you up.

“There’s a rumor going around,” Youngeun blurted out, causing you to tilt your head. Yeseo crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.

“It’s not a big rumor. It’s small and contained, and it shouldn’t get much bigger, but we don’t want you to hear it from someone random, or to overhear it when you don’t mean to. We don’t think it’s true, but you deserve to know.”

“Okay, just tell me. I don’t need this huge build-up.”

“There’s a small group, and I mean small group, that think Yukyung and Gunwook are dating behind your back.”

You went quiet, feeling your heart drop into your stomach. Realistically, you knew it wasn’t true—from the way Gunwook talked to you to the way he looked at you, there was no possible way that this was true. The part of you that was borderline traumatized by her sudden switch up on you believed it in an instant, though.

“Do they have any proof?”

“Apparently, they see her talking to him a lot. I mean, she doesn’t hang out in your classroom often, ‘cause her new friends are in mine and Gunwook’s class. And, to be fair, they aren’t wrong, she does talk to him a lot, but he doesn’t like it. It wouldn’t shock me if she’s trying to get him to break up with you, but they’re not dating,” Youngeun said, suddenly sounding a lot angrier than she did before. “I’ve seen him shoot her down several times. But people take it the wrong way, I guess.”

“Long story short, don’t believe it, [First]. We both know it’s not true and if you start hearing it from other people, ignore it. Okay?”

Like the world was playing an awful, cruel joke on you, your phone started ringing, and one look confirmed your suspicions. You picked up, hearing Gunwook’s voice come through, clear as day. “Do you want to see a movie tomorrow?” he asked, skipping over the greeting. Intrusively, you thought, would he go with her, too? “I’ll pay. It’s a showing of a Ghibli movie that Yujin said was good.”

“Sure,” you said, feeling Youngeun’s and Yeseo’s eyes burning through you, as if to say don’t you dare overreact about this. “What time?”

You were going to overreact about it anyway, though. You couldn’t do this, at least not with Yukyung—or, at least the thought of her—breathing over your shoulder at every moment. She meant too much to you that your mind was racing through every single thought you’d had over the past few months.

She was your best friend, and you’re pretty sure that, before Gunwook came into the picture, you were in love with her. You spent hours upon hours with her, and now you spend hours looking through the old pictures that you refuse to delete. You’re stuck on her—not in love with her anymore, but yearning for a friendship you lost—and it’s getting in the way of your relationship, and your mind concludes that there’s one viable outcome.

And, now, you have an excuse to carry it out.

xi. her

You don’t have the time to knock on Gunwook’s door before he throws it open. He hugs you immediately, picking you up and spinning you around right there in his doorway, and, for a minute, your mind is clear of all the terrible things that you’ve been trapped with for the past month.

“We did it,” he cried out, putting you back down so he could see your face. “We did it! Oh my god, how could we not have done it? We were always going to get in.”

About twenty minutes ago, both you and Gunwook received an email from Seoul National University that you’d gotten in. After you’d cried for four hours over your good CSAT scores, you nearly passed out at this news, wondering in what world you had deserved this. And, among your caving-in mind over Gunwook and Yukyung, you’d immediately left your house and ran to Gunwook’s.

He cupped your face in his hands, planting a kiss on your lips in utter joy. You laughed, feeling immensely happy for the both of you.

You tripped over your feet as you walked into his house, kicking off your shoes and emerging into his living room. “I never thought this would happen,” you said, pacing around the room. Gunwook watched you from behind the couch, smiling. “I mean, for the last month, I’ve just—I haven’t caught a break. I’ve been miserable every waking moment and now I finally have something to be happy over. Can you believe that?”

You look at him, and you watch his smile drop. You backpedal over what you said, realizing that you’d let your little secret slip; since Youngeun and Yeseo had told you about the rumor, you’d done an excellent job at hiding your panic, acting like everything was fine when it wasn’t in the slightest.

“What do you mean you’ve been miserable?”

You stopped pacing, and the room went quiet. In an instant, you’d knocked the happiness out of the room and brought in everything you’d been avoiding. The breakup plan you’d thought of night after night flashed in your mind, along with Yeseo telling you that you were an idiot for even considering it.

“I don’t know where this came from,” he continued, his voice a bit tight. “But I was under the impression everything was okay. We took the test and you looked better—why wouldn’t you tell me you were miserable?”

You weren’t sure what to say. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt nauseated, no longer feeling the excitement of the college acceptance you’d yearned for since you were a kid. “It’s stupid,” you said, your voice small. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it.”

“I don’t know if you understand how that sounds to me,” he said, and you were getting the idea that he also had an issue that he hadn’t been talking about, either. “But we’ve spent a lot of time together over the last month, and you saying that you’ve been miserable the entire time sounds a lot like you saying you were miserable being with me.”

“What? No, that’s not what I meant.” You shook your head, feeling mortified at the idea. “I promise, that’s not it. It has nothing to do with you.”

“Then why won't you tell me? I don’t think I’m entitled to hear anything from you that you don’t want to talk about, but when it’s been torturing you for months, [First], I feel like I deserve to know. Especially since it seems like Youngeun and Yeseo haven’t gotten any of the side effects.”

You bit your lip, closing your eyes. “You know Yukyung was my best friend, right?” Even saying it aloud made tears bunch into your eyes. For the first time since nearly a year ago, now, you were facing something you hadn’t even talked about with your mom. “Like, best friend. We’ve been—we were friends from our first year of middle school. She was my everything. And she threw it all away over—over you, and it’s been hard for me to stomach it.”

Gunwook rolled up his sleeves, leaning on the couch. “That happened in March,” he said, almost sounding frustrated. You knew it wasn’t directed at you, rather, he was probably angry that Yukyung had any say in your relationship even though you’d never even spoken about her.

“It killed me, Gunwook. I didn’t sleep well for a week. I mean, she was telling people things I told her in middle school, running around and painting a picture of me that I didn’t know she had.” You felt exasperated, unsure of how to convey what you needed to without sharing a secret you’d never shared with anyone. “It was hard for me. Even though I was happy about us, I couldn’t get over losing her like that with no warning. And then, I saw her talking to you at the fair, and then Yeseo and Youngeun told me about the rumors, and—”

“Rumors?” he interjected, furrowing his eyebrows. “What rumors?”

“People think you’re cheating on me,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. That seemed to confuse Gunwook, as he looked down, staring at the couch rather than looking at you. “It’s just hard, okay? It’s hard.”

“And you couldn’t have told me you felt like this? It didn’t cross your mind, even for a second, to just be honest?”

“Well why didn’t you tell me that she’s been talking to you at every chance she gets?” you rebutted. That caused him to wince, and you watched him realize that he couldn’t say much, either. “It’s not like we’re both innocent, here. So let’s get it over with. Now.”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Gunwook said, pushing off the couch and mirroring your stance. “Gyuvin brought it up during our second year before we knew each other. It didn’t cross my mind again until I saw you staring at her when I came in to give you your calculator back. And then—it’s been months and you haven’t said you loved me.”

Every muscle in your body tensed, and it, once again, occurred to you that you could never pull anything over on Gunwook.

“Are you in love with her?”

You gulped, your throat suddenly feeling drier than it ever had. “I was. A long time ago.”

It went silent again, and you wondered if he believed you. “I promise you it’s in the past. It was only during my first year and some of my second, but I got over it when she started dating Seungeon. And they lasted long enough for me to get over it, and we added Youngeun to the mix, so I was preoccupied. That’s in the past. But it doesn’t change that she threw out five years of our friendship without a second thought.”

He didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, beginning to pace back and forth. You let him think, hoping that your defense was sound enough that he wouldn’t break things off then and there.

“Do you love me, [First]?”

Two months ago, Yeseo had asked if you’d said “I love you” yet. You’d, embarrassingly, had to share that Gunwook had but you hadn’t, which perplexed both of them. And, when they asked why, all you’d been able to tell them was that the last person you’d said “I love you” to was Yukyung, the night before Youngeun called you, telling you everything she’d heard.

“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I do. I love you.”

Right in front of you, Gunwook burst into tears, walking straight past the couch and enveloping you in his arms. “I thought you were going to break up with me for so long,” he choked out, squeezing you so hard you could barely breathe. “I was terrified the entire time, and I thought things got better after the exams, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. I was so scared, [First]. I love you so much that I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

“I love you too,” you said, although it was muffled. “I promise. And I didn’t love her as much as I love you.”

xii. graduation

You were realizing that your claim that you didn’t cry often was quickly becoming a lie. You were sitting on the floor of your room, holding your diploma to your chest while tears streamed from your eyes. Gunwook was staring at you with a mixture of amusement and worry as you rocked yourself back and forth.

“Youngeun is leaving me,” you said, hiccuping. “Both of them are. For Japan. I’m going to have to make new friends.”

“But you’ll still be able to talk? They won’t even be in a different timezone.”

“Okay, and?” you said, hiccuping. “It’s so far. I won’t be able to go to 7/11 with them anymore.”

“We can go to 7/11?”

“That’s different, you’re my boyfriend. 7/11 is a commitment when it’s with you.”

“What does that even mean?”

You let out another Earth-shattering sob, and you supposed that convinced Gunwook to come over and attempt to comfort you. “There, there,” he said sarcastically. “Japan is very far. And you’ll have to pay more to call them. I’m sorry.”

“At least try to sound a little serious!”

“Neither Junhyeon nor Gyuvin got into SNU.”

“Okay, but they’re still in Korea, so you’ll be fine. There’s no train to Tokyo here.”

Gunwook wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leaning his head on yours. “It’ll be okay. They’ll be here over breaks and you’ll get to see them then, right? And you always have the—wait, why don’t you have a picture of us framed?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m serious,” he said, pointing to your dresser, which was right in front of you. On top were multiple framed pictures of the three of you, smiling, laughing, and doing other things. “What’s up with that? Am I less important than them?”

“Shut up.”

“No. I’m going to buy a disposable camera right now, and we’re going to take pictures so you can print and frame them.”

You rolled your eyes, wiping away your tears. “Okay. Whatever you say. Even though you’re my wallpaper, and you’re the only number pinned in my text messages, and you’re the only person who’s ever known the password to my phone.”

“You love me.”

“Not when you’re a greedy loser.”

“Aw, I love you, too.”

thank you for reading !

[momoswifee]

A Quiet Life

Pairing: Mina x reader

Synopsis: After some years of being together, some problems start to arise.

Warnings: The reader has abandonment issues, Mina is mean in the beginning, they love each other though. Dinking, curse words, motor accidents. They go camping.

w/c: 6003

a/n: It took so long to write this out since I didn’t really know how to do it? Idrk how to explain it but it was a bit harder than I expected. There’s more chapters coming so I hope you guys like it :)Also sorry if there are any grammar mistakes or misspelled words, English is not my first language.

Pt1- Pt2 - Pt3

Two years after you started dating you started to notice more and more Mina’s unhealthy commitment to her job. Of course you were amazed by her skill and how deeply connected she was to her job, but at a certain point it started to be something that had started to impact your relationship negatively. She would no longer stay at your now shared home, instead staying at her apartment even during her breaks, she would answer your texts with short “ok’s” and promises to call you later. 

Now, you sat next to her, the beeping of the machine next to you starting to give you a headache. You hadn’t been able to sleep since you had got to the hospital after Sana had called you, saying that she had found Mina fainted in her apartment. After talking to the doctors, they told you that she was severely dehydrated, underfed and probably running on caffeine. It seemed that she had been intentionally sleep-deprived so that she could do a better job with her part in the upcoming movie. 

“She is taking fluids, she will be okay.” The doctor briefly said in a comforting manner before leaving the room.

You sat right beside her bed, beating yourself up for not seeing the signs. The dodging calls, the short messages. You only thought it was due to increasing stress, you could’ve never guessed that it would’ve come to this. You were aware that Mina tended to overwork herself, but never to this extent. 

“Hmm” you hear from besides you and see Mina slowly open her eyes, a lazy smile forming on her lips as she notices you besides her. “Hi baby” she slurs out. As soon as she opens her eyes, you’re on your feet and already calling for the nurse, just hoping for someone to come and see if Mina is actually fine. “Hey, I’m fine,” she laughs out with a slight rasp, as if your actions are too much. 

“I just want to see if you’re actually fine.” You curtly say, not letting your worry lace itself into your voice. 

“I’m totally fine, they’ll probably tell you that I’m good to go.” She tells you with a smile, trying to sit up, but wincing as she sees that she doesn’t really have the strength to do it properly. 

“Don’t get up, you’re too weak for that.” You tell her sternly as you go to gently push her down so that she is laying down. 

After the nurse had come and had reassured you that everything seemed to be alright for now, you were told that a doctor would come later on to explain what to do next. 

The beeping of the machine is again the only noise in the room, as you can’t bring yourself to speak about what had happened. 

“Sana probably overreacted. I’m totally fine.” Mina says, already going through her bag to get her phone, probably to go back to work as soon as possible. 

“Give me that” You say, snatching the phone from her hands and putting it inside your pocket so that she wouldn’t be able to get her hands on it. “Do not say that Sana overreacted. You fainted. She found you on the floor, she was terrified.” You tell her as you pace around the room, already feeling agitated. 

“It was not that bad…” She tries to say. 

“Not that bad?! Mina!” You stop at her words. “The doctors said you were not eating, not drinking any water. It was something that had been going on for a while! What were you thinking!” You finally say, not even noticing you had raised your voice. “I was worried sick when I got here! Sana was frantic at the door, completely terrified for you, and you were so pale, you look sick.” You spit out.

“Oh yeah poor Sana.” She scoffs. “This is how it is. It’s what it is to work in the industry!” she lets out, letting her frustration come out as well. 

“Don’t use that as an excuse. You have tendencies of overworking yourself. Everyone knows that. I just didn’t think it would get this bad.” You say, frustrated by her attitude, turning your back to her, not wanting to escalate the situation, knowing it wouldn’t be completely fair to her.  You were just so worried about her. 

“Well, it’s my job, it’s how it works whether you like it or not!” She exclaims, getting riled up. “I’m living my dream. I got here on my own, and I worked damn hard to get here.” She continues, forcing herself up to stress her point. “I feel sorry for you. You lost the opportunity of completing your dream. You got hurt and were put off, but guess what! We can’t all spend our days at the shop doing arts and crafts on old furniture or just picking up fruit.” She says rolling her eyes, finding your mini outburst almost ridiculous, mind still clouded with her want to go back to work. “I’m sorry your dream of becoming a famous player didn’t work out,” she continues, not showing signs of stopping. “But I have worked hard to get here, and I’m not going to let a failed hockey player turned arts and crafts kid dictate how I live my life.” 

Every single word she spits out feel like a punch to the gut. You don’t even realize tear had fallen until you feel the salty water slip through your parted lips. “You didn’t sleep for days.” You sigh, closing your eyes, trying to not let her words cloud your judgement. “I hope you’re saying all of this because of this high you’re running on and not because these are thoughts you actually believe in.” You say, now looking her straight in the eye, clenching your fists, hurting your finger from pressing on the promise ring mina had given you on your 2nd year anniversary. “I’m worried about you, and I am asking you to please stop this.” You say, hurt still clear on your face from her previous hurtful words, as you get closer to her bed, taking her hand in yours. 

“Leave then.” Mina says, almost snarling, anger clearly etched on her features as she rips her hand angrily from your gentle ones,  

“Mina…” You say, voice cracking, your hand gaining a mind of its own as it tries to hold hers again. 

“No! Leave. If I’m such a nuisance, if my work habits are too much for you, there’s the door.”

“I-.” You sigh, not finding strength to go on again. “Ok.” You get up, take the phone from your pocket and let it fall on her side, and her hand instead of going to yours, as it was still stubbornly waiting for hers, takes her phone quickly. 

You can only look at her with something alike to disdain. The more you look at her, the more weight you feel on your right hand, the ring looking misplaced. With a final sigh, you take it off and gently place it on the table. As you leave her room, you quickly send a message to Sana to let her know that Mina had woken up and that you would leave for a little while.

Once inside your car, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually turn it on, keys still clenched in your hands. After finally gaining the courage to start the car, you start driving aimlessly and suddenly find yourself in front of Jihyo’s apartment complex. You get out of the car and fight yourself on whether you should ring her door or not, not feeling like you should bother her. As you internally fight yourself on that, you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. 

“Yn hey, it’s fine” Jihyo says, after seeing you almost jump away from her when she touches you. “Did we have plans?” 

“Uh no- I- I’m sorry no, I just-” You start, stumbling over your words, not knowing what to say exactly. 

“Hey, it’s fine,” she quickly says, grabbing your shoulders, seeing your distressed state. “Let’s go upstairs, we can talk there, yeah?” she asks, guiding you to her flat. 

After you finally tell her all about what had happened, you finally feel comfortable enough to let out a broken sigh, triggering your tears. 

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it, but I-” you gasp in between. “I was so worried when Sana called. When I got there, she looked so pale, so unlike herself.” You say while trying to calm yourself, hastily trying to wipe off your tears. 

“Look,” Jihyo starts, sighing, not knowing exactly what to say. “I’m calling Jeongyeon, see if she can get here. You’re sleeping here, I’m not letting you go back home in this state.” she says, getting up from the couch. “I’m getting you some clothes, you go take a shower because you reek of hospital.” she continues, trying to lighten up the mood with her final statement, successfully drawing a small smile from you. 

As soon as you felt the warm water hit your skin, the tension from the fight started to dissolve, but you still couldn’t stop thinking about Mina’s words. Did she actually see you as a joke? As, as she put it, a child? You felt sick. 

Once out of the shower and into Jihyo’s old clothes, you start going towards her kitchen and suddenly hear Jihyo discussing something over the phone.  

“I don’t care if she’s worried sick! Do you know what she told Yn?” Jihyo angrily whispers, trying to speak as quietly as she can so that you would not hear it. “She was awful to her, and I understand that she’s in a vulnerable place, but she does not have the right to say that to Yn.” 

“Hey, Jihyo called. I got food.” Jeongyeon says from behind you, startling you again. 

“Gosh, you really didn’t have to,” You turn to her, half forgetting about Jihyo’s discussion. “You really didn’t have to come.” 

“Of course I did, she understands.” She says, rolling her eyes playfully at your behaviour. “Come” she says, gently grabbing your arm, guiding you to a table. 

As she makes a plate for you, after much resistance from you, you feel Jihyo come to sit next to you. 

“Sana called.” she sighs. “Mina is worried about you.” she continues, attentive to your reaction, which turns out to only be a low hm, which shocks both your friends. Not wanting to bring you any kind of discomfort, they decide to leave it behind and just try and have an enjoyable dinner. Once you were done, you shooed them away so you could put the dishes away. 

“I’ll go there tomorrow. Maybe she’ll have a clearer head.” You whisper, head comfortably laid on the oldest shoulder, as you three watch a passing movie on the TV. 

“I have a free day tomorrow; I’ll drive you there.” Jihyo tells you, not leaving any room for discussion. 

As soon as you hear their deep breaths and light snores signalling their sleeping state, you turn your phone back on. Once it’s up and running, you see all the messages sent to you, most of them being apologies from Mina. As you read them you debate if you should answer her, if you should give her the comfort of knowing that you’re ok and have read her messages. You decide not to. 

❂

“We’re going to be there, if anything happens, we can just leave.” Jihyo says as you both walk the hospital corridors towards Mina’s room. 

“I just have to talk to her, nothing is going to happen,” you tell them, laughing at their overprotective expressions. 

When you see the door of her room, you feel all the confidence you had been building throughout the morning vanish instantly, and all the words said to you previously come rushing back as soon as you’re inside the room and eye to eye with Mina.

“Yn” Mina gasps out, immediately trying to get up from the bed. 

“No, keep down, you still look weak.” You rush out to her side, not wanting her to get up so quickly. 

“The doctors said I can go home today, I look worse than I actually am” she says with a little laugh, trying to get you to laugh as well but only receiving a nod from you. 

“We’ll leave you to it.” Sana says, breaking the silence, dragging Jihyo with her. 

“I’m staying here with Yn”

“They need to talk, let's go”

“I-” Mina starts after you were left alone. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you mean it?” You ask her, still not looking at her, choosing to stare out of the window instead. 

“No!” she quickly says. “I- I don’t know why I said those things,” she continues with a pained expression. “I’m sorry, Yn, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Mina I-” you sigh, going to sit next to her, noticing her state of distress. “I’m sure you meant some of it-

“I didn’t!” she cuts you off, grabbing your hands, desperate to make you understand. "I don't think any of those things. Those are some of the parts of you that I love the most." She continues, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "The way you so carefully pick the fruit, the way you tend so caringly to your garden is just amazing to me, every time I go back home and see you do those things I feel filled with so much love for you, you don't understand..." She trails off. "I adore the way you, with your masterful hands, craft beautiful pieces for our and others home. I can't even look away when I see you so tenderly restore some pieces that were thrown away by others." She says, stressing her words by bringing your hands to her lips and gently placing small kisses on your knuckles.

“I don’t know why I said those things. I was stressed, I was anxious with all of it and I redirected that to you because I know deep down those are things about yourself that you sometimes doubt are even useful. I shouldn’t have done it, it’s no excuse.” 

“I-” you start at a loss for words after her small confession. “Mina…” you say, looking at your intertwined hands. “I think I understand, but it still hurt.” you continue. “And I need you to try and take a break from all of it. I need you to rest.”

“You can’t just ask me that.” She frowns.

“Mina you-” you say, taking in a breath not wanting to get frustrated with her, knowing this is just how her mind has been wired for a while. “You were sent to the hospital. Can’t you see that you need a break?”

“Can’t you see that you’re asking me to take a break from something that I love? I just told you how good you are at doing things that you love, how can you ask me to stop doing the same?” she weakly asks, taking slowly her hand away from yours. 

“The doctor said you were okay to go home, that you’re good to enough to leave the hospital, not to go back to work.” You try, as gently as possible. “You have to take a break, I’m not asking you to leave your work behind, I know that it’s what makes you, you. I’m just asking you to take a breath at home, regain your energy, maybe in the meantime you’ll understand that what you’re doing isn’t exactly healthy.”

“I’ll follow the doctors’ orders for now, we can work on the other part later, ok?” she asks, making you almost instantly give in, although you weren’t at all satisfied with the suggested compromise, thinking to yourself that you would just keep an eye on her and then start working on her overworking tendencies.

❂

Mina hadn't been able to see you in a while since she had been abroad filming her final scenes in an upcoming movie and the distance had taken a toll on both of you. She missed you, she missed her house. When she was finally done with filming her final scenes, she booked the ticket as soon as possible to go home to you. 

As soon as she pulls up in the driveway, she is faced with something she had missed: you running around the garden chasing a very wet Otis with a hose in his mouth. 

"You come here!" You say as you chase Otis around the backyard, trying to stop him from going inside. 

"What is going on?" Mina asks, unable to contain her laughter, as she gets out of the car and runs to the porch, out of the war zone. 

"I-" you stop for a minute to regain your breath. "Mina" you say smiling at her, starting to walk up to her and engulfing her in a hug. "I missed you" you whisper, voice muffled by her shoulder. “You should’ve told me you were coming back! I thought it was only by the end of the week!”

She laughs and hugs you just as tight, kissing your head. "I missed you too, just wanted to surprise you."

Suddenly you both hear a bark, making you quickly pull away to see what had happened, only to see Otis completely covered in mud. 

"You know, that had to be replaced anyway..." Mina says laughing as she watches you chase around your dog. 

"Didn't have to be replaced because of this" you say, out of breath, already with the hose in hand, looking down to your clothes now as dirty as him. 

After finally being able to catch him and bringing him for a long bath, he has returned to his previous white fur and was sprawled on top of Mina as they watched the news, and you cooked dinner.

"Is he interested on the rise of the prices of housing in central Europe?" You ask, watching over both of them attentively. 

"Oh yeah, he had plans of getting a house there and maybe settling down, but I guess he'll have to look elsewhere." She says, caressing behind Otis's ears. 

"Oh yeah definitely, after the stunt he pulled today, he's going to have to compensate the damage with a week of his pay cheque"

"A week?!" She exclaims in mock offence, twisting her neck to be able to look at you. "He's such a hard worker, and you just take all of that from him?" 

"Shouldn't have flooded the garden." You say shrugging. 

"Oh bud, she doesn't deserve your love." Mina says pushing her face into his fur, kissing him to comfort him over his salary being reduced, making you laugh at the sight. 

As you were dicing some of the vegetables you see Mina's hands sneak around your waist and feel her face behind pressed against your back. 

"I missed this," she says, voice muffled. "You being a complete asshole to our son, watching you cook us dinner"

"You ass" you say laughing turning around in her arms after her comment. "I was not an asshole to Otis"

She only laughs, head slightly tilted, giving you her best smile. "Tomato, Tomato"

"There is no Tomato or Tomato in this situation" you chuckle, resting your head on her shoulder. 

"Eh there is" she continues, not willing to 'let you win'. "What are your plans for tomorrow?" she finally asks, stepping a little away from you so that you can tend to the food. 

"Hmm" you say as you move to look over the sizzling fish, still feeling her hand softly on your hip. "I was thinking we could stay in?" you suggest, to which she quickly agrees, eager to spend some quality time with you. 

Once you're in bed waiting for Mina to join you after she finishes her night routine, you decide to read one last chapter. Since you were too engrossed into the book, you didn't even feel the bed dip beside you and Mina's presence until she adjusts your falling glasses. 

"You need to get them adjusted," she whispers curling up next to your sitting frame, making you immediately drop the book and take off your glasses to join her. 

"They're perfectly fine." You assure her, bringing her closer to you and nuzzling your face into her neck, feeling her hair tickling your face. Not feeling energized to answer, she only hums appreciating the warmth of your skin against hers.

❂

Mina took every opportunity to be with you, not taking any moment for granted, just wanting to be near you. Once you noticed she was spending more and more time with you, even at work (not that you were at all complaining) you eventually asked if she'd like to help in the shop. You had to admit that it was nice to have her around you almost all the time. The time she had spent abroad filming her movie had been hard on both of you. 

After finally finding a day that worked for everyone, you all organized a camping outing between friends by the lake nearby. The difficult part wasn’t making time and finding free time in between schedules, the difficult time was Mina finding the courage to wake you up, so now there she laid you on top of her, head snuggled into the crock of her neck, letting out soft snores.  Even though she had already been home for some time now, Mina still took a deep breath after she woke up every day. The little lavender accents that she had added when she moved in with you, your citrus fragrance lingering in the air, it was all everything she could ask for. After completely waking up, she noticed you were still asleep, and she couldn't bear to wake you up.

She gently moved you so that you wouldn't wake up and quietly went to the kitchen to prepare you both breakfast and everything to take for the picnic. 

“I don’t think I like this new habit of yours where you just don’t wake me up and do everything yourself.” You slur out as you lazily walk into the kitchen straight towards her.

“You look too peaceful to wake up, I always hate doing that.” 

You hum against her back before letting go, groaning as you stretch your arms out, exposing some of your skin as your shirt rides up. 

“You know…” you hear from behind, feeling her hands already sneaking up your shirt, tickling your skin. “We can just say we caught the flu and stay in?” She says, kissing up your jaw. 

“They’ll kill us.” You try, but not making any attempt to move away from her. 

She only non-committally nods in response to your reasoning, leaning in to brush her lips against yours. “I’m sure we’ll be just fine”. She pulls you in by the waist, her hands creeping up your back as she finally leans in to kiss you. 

As you’re getting busy, not even thinking about the outing that had been planned with your friends, your phone starts to ring. 

“I’m killing whoever is calling you,” Mina whispers against your lips, hands secure on your waist, not wanting to let you go. 

“I swear to everything holy, if you’re not ready to go I’m coming over and putting you inside the trunk of my car”

“I’ve always loved your good mornings, so supportive, so wholesome.” you say rolling your eyes as you pick up the phone, looking over to a questioning Mina on your side. “It’s Jihyo.” you whisper to her. 

“I would be nice if you had a record of being on time you know?”

“I’m always on time!”

Since you seemed to be too occupied with the call and no longer focusing on her, Mina decided to finish packing the fruits before letting you know she would be going to get ready, 

“We’ll be there on time, but you do realize it’s just a picnic, right?” you ask her, half amused, as you put the drinks inside the cooler. 

“I’m well aware, I just wanted to make sure.”

“Sure, I’m still in my pjs but we’ll be there on time”

“You’re still on your-”

“Bye!” you say, cutting her off, happy with yourself for riling her up a little.

❂

“I told you to get those tightened,” Mina says as she watches your glasses slide off your face as you lean down to pick up the cooler. “Last week they almost fell into the dishwasher.” 

“I know…” You say, adjusting said glasses. “I planned on going yesterday, but then I had to stay at the shop, so I didn’t really get a chance.”

“She could’ve just got them tightened when we went to pick them out, but she didn’t want to say anything.” Jihyo shrugs, coming up from behind you to help take off more of the food from the car.

“They were good at the time, they were not as loose, shut up.” You say, walking towards the pebbles near the lake. 

“They were, you just avoid talking to other people when it comes to things like this, so now you have extra loose glasses,” Jeongyeon adds as she follows the two of you. 

“I’ll go right after the weekend.” You groan, rolling your eyes playfully at their insistence. 

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, I’m older than you” Jihyo says, pinching your arm playfully

“By two months??” you exclaim, rubbing your arm

“Still older” she shrugs

After setting up the tents at the camping park, you take a walk down to the lake. Once you arrive, you are met with a beautiful body of water in yellow and greenish shades, surrounded by big trees with branches so big they were almost covering the sky. There were little frogs leaping through the little pebbles and fish swimming through the algae. You decide to sit up on the grass near the rocks, seeming like a good place to stay to enjoy the quiet. 

“This deck will need fixing soon…” Jeongyeon says as she picks up a loose wooden part at the beginning of it. Her concerns fall on deaf hears as she sees you running past her with a very competitive Jihyo right behind you towards the water.

Mina had decided to just sit at the edge of it, happy to just watch you all swim around, it not being her favourite activity. She was satisfied with just watching you have fun. Her eyes were stuck on you when suddenly you decided to dive and didn’t come right up. As she goes to get up, worry already starting to spread to her, you come up for air, right next to where she stood, giving her a silly smile, making her heart melt and worry disappear.

"Thought I lost you there," she says, returning your smile, tracing little stars on your wet shoulders. 

"Were you worried?” you ask laughing. “You know you can’t get rid of me that easily". 

“I’m glad.” She says, looking down at you lovingly. If she weren’t in public with all your friends watching, she would’ve probably let herself fall into the water to kiss all over your face. Instead, you both just stayed there for a while, simply basking in each other’s presence, not seeing any need in getting out. 

“Mina?” Sana called out. “Your agent is calling you!”

“On a Sunday of all days.” Mina grumbles as she gets up quickly, annoyed for having her quiet time interrupted.  

You only chuckle, continuing to swim through the warm water. 

“I thought she was on holiday?” Jihyo asks, swimming towards you, flicking water from her fingers to your face. 

“Yup, must be something to do with the press tour? ‘m not sure though…” 

After a while of mindless talking, Mina comes back with a small smile on her face. 

“So?” 

“I just have to go to the office next week, have some papers to sign because of a deal.” she happily says, sitting again on the deck.

“That’s really good!” You say as you swim towards her, kissing the hand dangling into the water. “If you want, I can drive you there.” You suggest, gaining the immediate approval of your friend. 

“Yes, please, I have been trying to get her to come try the new ice rink that just opened up.”  She says, shaking you by the shoulders. 

“Why are you shaking me, you turd?” You say, shaking her hands away from you, spitting out the water you almost swallowed.  

“ ‘Cuz I want you to come play with me” She retorts. 

“Sana?” Mina calls. “Want to arrange a play date? These two want to hang out.”

“Aw yeah, of course, here’s my phone.” She says, handing her phone to Mina and getting in on the little joke. “Put your number in, and we’ll arrange it!”

They only laugh more when they see you both staring at them with no reaction. 

“Do they think they’re funny?” Jihyo asks, looking at you, still with no expression on her face.

 “I think they think they’re hilarious.”

After deciding that you were taking Mina to the agency and later going to play with Jihyo, you let yourself be swallowed by the water, still hearing Mina’s melodious laugh through the water surrounding you. Out of nowhere, a crashing sound is heard, right to your left, making you look right away. There is Mina, smiling at you with the thin sun rays illuminating her face, wiggling towards you to bring you closer to her. Once close enough, she softly plants her lips on yours in a brief kiss, before grabbing your hand and swimming up to get you both to the surface. 

❂

“...no I don’t think you understand,” Jeongyeon laughs. “Those two during Halloween were just not the little saints everyone thought they were.” she continues as she points to you and Jihyo, both annoyed by her idea of sharing childhood stories. 

“Whatever she says is going to be greatly exaggerated, just so you know.” Jihyo cuts in, as she prepares the meat. 

“Agreed, what we did was perfectly reasonable”

“Anyway, during Halloween,” she continues, ignoring your objections. “Those two loved to dress up in the most elaborate costumes to get as much candy as possible. So, one year they devised a plan. They canvassed the houses in town to see where they handed most of the candy. A week before Halloween they arranged a little stand on the playground and lured kids in, saying they had a map of the best places to get candy. They told them that to get the map, they had to pay 1 dollar, and since a lot of kids thought this was a great idea, almost everyone gave them the money. Yn to rile them in even gave a speech about how people were starting to care less about actually giving out candy, that children no longer need that much sugar in their tiny bodies.” By that point, you get up and go to Jihyo’s side. 

“Think Mina will ever let me near her nephew again?” 

“I mean it’s not like we actually did something bad,” she says, and even if you’re not directly facing her, you know she has a big smile on her face. 

“...turns out, that was a map of the health brigade parents, that at the time were just giving out fruit and stuff like trail mix. Those two went to all the right houses and since no kid had shown up all night, they got all the candy from these oh so innocent kind-hearted people. They were thrilled and ran home as soon as possible with all the candy they got their tiny hands on.” By then Mina has her head thrown back, laughing at your idiotic plans from when you were ten, and for once you thanked Jeongyeon for airing your stories out. 

“I had to be their bodyguard for like a week since there were a lot of angry kids after them,” Jeongyeon says in between laughs. “They were lucky they had a friend in a higher grade to ‘protect’ them.” She proudly ends. 

“You took 30 percent of our candies, you didn’t do it for free.” You grumble as you sit in your previous spot. “So please get out of your high horse.”

“Well,” she starts grinning at your annoyed face. “My services aren’t for free-”

“You also ratted us out to our parents,” Jihyo says cutting her off. 

“You got grounded?” Mina asks, laughing at you both. 

“I did, had to give out half of the candy to the other kids…” Jihyo complains, letting her head fall on Sana’s shoulder. 

“My dad just took half my sweets, he said it wasn’t that bad of an idea, just poorly executed.” You shrug with a smile on your face. 

“Yeah, you’re not going to be allowed to be alone with my nephew again, you’ll corrupt him.” Mina teasingly says.

The night goes on, and more stories are shared until Mina and Sana are saying their good nights and going to their tents, leaving you and your friends behind. 

“It’s a shame Nayeon couldn’t come.” Jihyo says after a moment of silence, gaining hums of agreement. 

“Yeah, but she couldn’t just fly in, she had the business trip planned for a while.”

“Speaking off…” Jihyo starts, wiggling her eyebrows at you. “Have you picked it up?”

“How was that even related?”

“I- uh yeah” you say, picking up your phone to show them a picture of it. 

“Hm, you picked well.” Jeongyeon tells you, her hand squeezing your shoulder. 

You could only smile at them, happy to have their support through all of this. From the moment you called them in a state akin to panic to this very moment. You couldn’t wait for the perfect moment to finally ask Mina. 

❂

“Ok so, I’ll call you but I’m probably going to be done by 7, and we can grab dinner.” Mina offers through the window of your car. 

“We’re probably done by 7-7:30? She said it was right by her house but it’s 30 minutes out.”

“I’ll wait at Sana’s then. The agency is not too far from her house, I can catch an Uber or something.”

Once you’re done with the little drills in the new rink, you wait for Jihyo to finish up hers. 

“So, have you given it more thought? Do you know when you’ll be popping the question?” Jihyo says, skating to you after putting in some pucks. 

“I’m not sure? She’s going on her press tour soon, so I think I’ll wait for a bit,” you say getting up to help her with her gear.  “I have all the time in the world.” You add with a lovesick smile. 

“You’re insufferable I hate it.” She says jokingly, taking off her helmet. “Help me carry these out, the kids didn’t storage them.” She points to the cones next to the wall. 

Once out of the rink and ready to pick Mina up after a short shower, you’re both inside the car and Jihyo is deep in her feels, blasting “Casual” by Chappell Roan. 

“You are in a stable relationship, why are you screaming like someone took your heart out and stomped on it?” you question laughing at her behavior. 

“I just imagined a scenario so that I could sing it with passion, obviously” she simply answers, not caring about your teasing comment. “No way!” She suddenly says. 

“What?” You quickly answer, alert to whatever danger she might me pointing out.

“Look over there,” she says, pointing at the tree you were about to pass. “There are owls here too!” she excitedly tells you. 

You laugh at that but do take your eyes off the road for a second to look at them. If you hadn’t, you would have noticed that the driver didn’t see his stop sign and was heading straight to you.

[invisible-lint]

Everything Could Be Okay: Chapter 2

Rhys x Tamlin's sister!reader

Summary: Time for a wedding... Or is it?

Warnings: nothing I can think of!

Word Count: 1.4k

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 3

You had never been a fan of parties. They were too loud, the air too stuffy, and the gossiping of the Spring Ladies you were forced to be with was obnoxious. But you had endured, not wanting to leave Feyre to fend for herself. Or worse, alone with Ianthe who had gotten on your nerves with how pushy she had been while planning what was supposed to be Feyre’s wedding.

Feyre had made her escape nearly an hour ago, heading up to bed, and here you were, stuck, nodding along as you pretended to listen to the gossiping females surrounding you.

"From what I hear, Tamlin is looking to find a husband for you." That got your attention. The room is suddenly suffocating, air struggling to find its way to your lungs. Your hand reaches to your necklace, finding the ring on it. The group of females look worried as you back away, feeling as if the room is closing in on you.

"Excuse me," you manage to mumble, fleeing the room.

You run out to the gardens, not noticing Tamlin following you. You stop, sinking into a bench, trying not to hyperventilate. How could he do this? Just because he wanted to pretend nothing had happened doesn't mean that you would. He sits next to you and you stand, anger flooding your body when you see him, pushing out the panic.

"How dare you?" You hiss, blinking back the angry tears stinging your eyes.

He sighs. "What is it I've supposedly done now?"

"When were you going to tell me you were looking for a husband for me?"

"You're overreacting. Someone asked about marrying you, and I simply said I would think about it."

"No. You don't get to make that choice for me. I am not ready for that. I am not ready to replace him!" You start to pace, trying to keep your temper in check. 

"It would be good for you to move on. You can't be unhappy forever." 

You lose your temper then, whirling to face him, pointing a finger at his chest. "You don't understand! I felt it when he died! It was like my soul was cleaved in two! That is not something I can just move on from! Had Feyre's death been permanent you would not have moved on as quickly as you're asking me to!" He growls at you, claws sliding out. You flinch, knowing you said too much and turn to run further into the garden. This time, Tamlin doesn’t follow.

The next day is the wedding, and you sit with Feyre as several females prepare her. You watch silently, trying to gauge how she is feeling. You know about the nightmares, and have noticed the weight loss, but you don’t know what to do. What can you do? You’ve offered companionship, tried getting her to eat more of the foods you know she likes, but still, she is wasting away before your eyes. You can’t talk about Under the Mountain, no one talks about it. No one can. 

You notice Feyre is looking more and more nervous, and you ask for the room to be cleared. Once it’s just the two of you in the room, you pull a chair over so you’re right next to her, taking her hands in yours.

“I was nervous before my wedding too. I couldn’t eat anything and then I almost fainted right before the ceremony.” You squeeze her hands gently. “But I knew it was what I wanted. Andras and I had courted for nearly 20 years before I agreed to marry him. I suppose what I’m trying to say is if you’ve changed your mind, if you need more time, I will come up with some sort of reason to postpone the wedding. Tamlin doesn’t need to know about any of it.” 

Feyre sits for a moment, thinking before shaking her head. “I’m ready. I want this.”

You nod, squeezing her hands again. “Then I’ll be right there with you.”

You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised, Rhysand was prone to making dramatic entrances after all. Showing up right as Feyre was walking down the aisle seemed just like the kind of thing he would do.The part of you screaming its relief is hard to ignore, but you manage to shove it down.

You stride across the lawn, chin held high, interrupting the argument. "I will be joining Feyre as a chaperone." The violet eyed male quirks an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile. “Oh?”

"Yes. No part of your agreement said she had to spend her time in your court alone." 

"I suppose not."

"So I'm joining her." 

At that moment Tamlin finally finds his voice. "Absolutely not."

"You'd have her go alone?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at your brother. 

He sputters, before making an exasperated noise, knowing you're right. 

"Don't worry Tamlin, I'll treat her better than you treated my sister," Rhysand taunts. You shoot him an exasperated look, ignoring your brother's snarl. He crosses over to you and Feyre, wrapping an arm around each of you and winnowing away, whisking both of you off to the night court.

You wander the halls of the mountain palace, thinking back on the past few hours. It’d been hard not to laugh when Feyre had thrown her shoes at Rhysand, the look on his face had made it even harder. But more than anything, the interaction made you feel relieved. Somewhere in there, who Feyre truly was still resided. And he had managed to draw her out. 

You walk out onto a balcony, glad that whatever magic seems to be heating the interior of the palace extends to out here. You gaze up at the stars, lost in thoughts about how you might help Feyre. When you eventually turn to go back inside, Rhysand is standing in the doorway, staring at you, the expression on his face unreadable. He walks over, leaning against the railing of the balcony next to you. 

“This is the second time now I’ve found you roaming in the middle of the night. I’m starting to think you don’t sleep.”

“I don’t.” He raises an eyebrow in response.

“Not well at least. It’s… a long story.”

“One you won’t share with me?”

You cross your arms, shooting him a hard look. “I don’t know you.”

“Ah, yes. But I assume you intend to accompany Feyre everytime. One week a month for the rest of your life gives you plenty of time to know me.”

“I think I know enough.” You squeeze your arms, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat races at the idea of getting to know him.

“Do you make it a habit of assuming you know people based on what you’ve heard?”

“Do you make it a habit of being so obnoxious?” You huff, flinging your arms down to your side, temper stirring. The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smile as he tries not to laugh.

“Are you always so easily irritated?”

You snap, letting everything you’ve been holding in flood out. “You would be too if you were me! I have lost so much and I’m supposed to just smile and pretend I’m okay. That I don’t dream about my dead husband every night. It has barely been a year since he died and someone asked Tamlin if they could marry me. A year! I was with him for almost 100 years and people have the audacity to think I should move on because I can’t be miserable forever! Not to mention that without him, without his sacrifice, Feyre wouldn’t have been able to save anyone! Oh, and speaking of Feyre, I don’t think she wants to marry my brother. But she refuses to admit it and there's nothing I can do and she’s going to end up as trapped and miserable in Spring as I am! And I have nobody to tell this to because the only person who I could ever truly share my feelings with is dead! So I’m so sorry if I’m a little bit irritable.” You finish your rant, chest heaving. Rhysand just stares at you, a little wide eyed, at a loss for words. Suddenly realizing how much you had shared, you turn and run, heading anywhere but there, but he remains rooted to the spot.

He had felt it. Felt all your anger, frustration and anguish down the blossoming bond. Mate. You’re his mate. He lets out a shaky breath, turning to grip the railing, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t tell you. How could he when you had just shouted at him about how you're still grieving your husband? So this, like so many he already carried, would be his sole burden to bear.

A/N: And there it is! I'm already working on chapter 3 and hope to have it posted sometime either this week or early next week. it's already a LONG one! As always, requests are open and feel free to send them on in!

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Taglist: @lilah-asteria @readingislife2006 @acourtofimagines @mistymoocow @irelanrose @darker-december @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @loving-and-dreaming

[mylifesjustacarousel]

bridget’s sister - part |||

pairing: james hook x fem!reader

summary: part three of bridget’s sister!

type: angst, angst, angst

CW: bullying

WC: 1.9K

part 1 | part 2 | part 4 | not proofread!

“YOU!”

You felt your blood run cold as you heard the mean queen herself stomp towards you, her crew following close behind. She had made it very clear that she didn’t want you anywhere near James, but could she really blame you? Hook tightened his grip on you. “I told you to leave her alone, Uli.”

“She’s bad news, Hook. You’re going to destroy your reputation. Our reputation. It’s her, a girl you just met… or us.” Uliana growled, her eyes shooting daggers at you. Hook rolled his eyes. “You’re not serious. I’m not going to choose between you, that’s crazy.”

You stayed silent while they argued, Hook’s grip on you never faltering. You wanted to just pounce and knock some sense into Uliana, but you knew that you were outnumbered. Unbeknownst to you, Hook’s heart was almost beating out of his chest. Despite his calm and collected appearance, he was furious. He loved his friends, but there was absolutely no way that he was going to actually choose.

“Uliana…” you mumbled.

“Uliana!” she mocked, rolling her eyes. “You think you’re so perfect. You think you can get whatever you want, right? Well, guess what? Life isn’t fair!” she spat. You shook your head. “You’re overreacting, it doesn’t have to be like this, Uli.”

“Shut it! Hook, her or us? The friends who took you in when you had nothing.” she asked, the rest of the group surrounding her to hear his answer. “Or the little princess who probably spelled you to get what she wants?”

“I’m not choosing, Uliana. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I guess it’s decided then. You’re pathetic. You’re weak. Once again, you’re nothing.”

“I don’t want you to lose your friends over this, James!”

You were pacing around his room, your hands nervously fidgeting with the ends of your hair. Hook sighed, watching you from his bed. “Darling, this isn’t something for you to worry about. If she’s going to be this way, then I don’t want her in my life.”

“But she’s your friend.” you huffed. “As much as I hate her, I don’t want to take your friends away from you. That’s not fair.” He got up, sauntering over to you. “I love how much you care, but it’s not worth it.” He cupped your cheeks, placing a delicate kiss on your lips. You closed your eyes, letting his touch melt your worries away. “I just don’t want you to be alone. I know how that feels…”

“I have you, so I’m not alone. I’m okay, I promise.” He pulled you over to his bed, sitting down with you. “If anyone tries to cross me, or you, I have a plank for them to walk.”

The two of you looked over at the door when you heard the handle jiggle. The door opened, Morgie walking in. You forgot that the two of them shared a room. Morgie stopped in his tracks, a surprised look on his face. “Hey, y/n! Hey, Hook. Uliana said that I’m not supposed to talk to you right now...” He went to his side of the room, setting his stuff down.

“Tell Uliana that this is insane, Morgie!” you exclaimed. Morgie sat down on his bed, avoiding Hook’s gaze. “I don’t see the problem with the two of you. I think you’re pretty cool. But, Uliana is my friend, so…”

You smiled a little bit, looking over at the serpent boy. You had a class with Morgie previously, and he was nothing but a sweetheart. It was a shame that his closest friends were so… evil. “I appreciate it, Morgie. You’re cool too.”

Hook laid back on his bed, grabbing your hand and making you lay down next to him. “I’m going to figure this out, alright?” he whispered. “I will not let her lay a single finger, or tentacle, on you.” You rolled your eyes playfully, laying your head on his chest. “I like this protective side of you. It’s sweet.”

“I’m a pirate, darling. We’re protective of our treasure.”

“Shut up, James.”

“So, they’re not friends anymore?” Ella asked. You were sat with Bridget and Ella in your room. Well, they were sat. You were pacing around the room like you were training for a marathon. “I don’t even know! I feel terrible, those are his friends! Morgie wouldn’t even talk to him the other day! Morgie! He talks to everyone!”

Ella looked up at you. “Why is it so bad? You two are together, you have Uliana off of your backs… seems like a win-win situation to me.” Huffing, you sat down next to the girls. “That’s the thing, there’s no way that she’s just letting this go. I don’t know what, but she’s planning something. She wouldn’t let him go that easily.”

“How’s he handling all of this? Hook?” Bridget asked. You sighed, looking over at her. “He says that he’s fine, but I can tell that it’s bothering him. He… has a very hard time showing how he feels. Ugh, this sucks! It’s all my fault too!” Bridget wrapped her arms around you, hugging you close. “Buttercup, it’s not your fault. You’re not at fault for loving someone, that’s crazy.”

“I just want all of this to stop, B.”

“Uliana will get over it eventually. But, it doesn’t matter what she thinks. Hook chose you, he clearly loves you.” Your eyes widened and you pulled away from Bridget. “Woah, woah. Let’s not go and throw around the ‘L’ word, I mean we’ve only been together for, like, a week.” you laughed nervously, feeling your palms get sweaty.

Love was tricky for you. You craved it more than anything, but you also tried to stay away from it out of fear of rejection. If you kept your distance, you couldn’t get your feelings hurt. But, there was something about him. He cared about you, and he made you feel like the most special girl alive. There was no way that he loved you, though. It was too soon.

“I mean, I really really like him though.” you sighed. “He’s not perfect, by any means-”

“That’s harsh.” Ella teased, gently nudging your shoulder. You rolled your eyes. “You didn’t let me finish! He’s not perfect, but he’s so… special. Even when I doubted him, he went out of his way to prove that he could be trusted. I just… I like him a lot, and I don’t want to ruin things.”

“Well he lo- likes you a lot too. I wouldn’t worry about it, alright?” Ella smiled, running a hand through your hair.

“Okay… But, I still don’t trust Uliana. She’s plotting something.”

“He’s so ugh!” Uliana huffed, kicking a rock in front of her as she made her way to the Black Lagoon. “I do so much for him, and this is how I get treated?” Hades rolled his eyes, walking behind her with Maleficent. “You’re just mad that you didn’t get a chance with him.”

“That little princess does not always get to get her way!” She turned around, glaring at Hades. “We need to do something about this. She thinks that she can act like some sort of peace monger, her and her prissy sister.”

Hades put his hands up. “I am not doing anything about this. Hook is stubborn, he gets what he wants.”

“Well, I get what I want. I don’t care who gets hurt, we’re gonna teach that princess a lesson. Let’s go.” Uliana led them into her lair, going over to the platform in the middle of the room where her cauldron was. “We need to conjure up the perfect revenge.”

“This is a bad idea, Uliana.” Hades called out. Uliana whipped her head around “I’m sorry, do you want to join him in being an outcast? I didn’t think so.”

“Uliana!” A voice called out.

Hook walked into the lair, an angry look on his face. “I don’t care what you think about me, but you need to leave her alone. She did nothing to you.” Uliana smirked, walking over to him. “Is Hook suddenly too good for a little mischief? What about those kids that you made, y’know, walk the plank?” Hook looked around, almost avoiding her gaze. “That’s different, and you know it.”

“Is it?” she questioned. “I don’t think they did anything to you, James-y. You’ve changed, she made you weak. We are supposed to be feared. Nobody is going to fear us if you have a pink ray of sunshine wrapped around your finger.” She walked back over to her cauldron. “I think it’s time for you to go back to your roots and remember who you really are. You’re a pirate, a vicious one, act like one.”

“Uli, stop it. You know you’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I don’t think I will. In fact, I think I just found the most perfect revenge.”

It was two days later, and you hadn’t seen Hook at all. Not in class, not in his room, nowhere. Hook had taken a liking to greeting you at your door every single morning to walk you to your first class, so it was a big surprise when you opened your door the morning before and he wasn’t there. Opening your door, you sighed as Hook wasn’t there… again. You shut your door behind you, begrudgingly making your way to your first class. You were worried sick, a constant pit of anxiety in your stomach. Something was off.

On your way to your class, you bumped into someone, forcing you to fall onto the ground. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” you exclaimed as the figure walked past you. You turned your head, your eyes almost popping out of it when you saw who it was.

“James?”

He turned around, a disgusted look on his face. “Maybe keep your eyes on the sidewalk, lass. You’re not the only person on the planet.” Your heart absolutely dropped. He had never talked to you like that before. “James, what is wrong with you?” You got up, going over to him. “I didn’t see you at all yesterday, what happened? Are you upset about the whole Uliana thing?”

“I chose. Uliana is right, we just met. People fear me, I can’t be seen with someone like you.” Hook scoffed, looking offended that you were even talking to him. Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes, your throat feeling like it was about to close up. “Someone… like me? Hook, what does that even mean? What’s happening? What did Uliana do to you?”

He rolled his eyes, his hook coming up and catching under your chin so you were looking him in the eye. “Uliana didn’t do anything to me. Do I have to spell it out for you, darling? I don’t want to be with you. We’re done here. Besides, you were right. You’re inexperienced, you’re lame. We don’t work.”

“We don’t work?” you asked.

Tears rolled down your cheeks like rain as he spoke, your bottom lip quivering as a sob threatened to escape your mouth. It was like someone took your heart and beat it to death with a hammer. “James… I’m sorry if I did something, I thought we were okay. You- you said that everything was fine! I’m sorry!”

“Hook, let’s go!”

You looked over, seeing the VKs standing there. Uliana walked over to you, the fakest smile ever on her face. “Oh, darling. Dry those tears, it’s… for the best. Now, let’s go, Hook.” Hook looked at you, the look of admiration and love in his eyes now gone. It was now replaced with one of vitriol and hatred.

You quickly wiped your tears away, watching your boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, walk away with the rest of the VKs. You couldn’t even believe what had happened. The person who you thought cared for you just stomped on your heart.

What just happened?

a/n: HAHAHA pt 4 coming soon. i love a good cliffhanger, you should’ve known that it was coming. i’m sorry that it was a little short, but this series will go out with a bang, i promise <3

taglist: @skellseerwriting @sleepyking @ljaylmaoo @lesbpotmurdocklokistan @yokolesbianism @eretsupremacy89 @descendantsramblings @thegoddessofnothingness

[delirious-donna]

Resistance and Ire [Part One]

“Your blood,” he managed to say without snarling whilst his eyes raked over the throbbing pulse in your neck and up to your terrified eyes, “it’s singing to me.” 

story summary: Levi isn’t hungry, or so that’s what he claims. A vampire must drink to survive, and his sire refuses to let the man give up without trying every trick up his sleeve. When a new ‘donor’ appears, one who is different from all the rest, will Levi be able to keep resisting?

pairing: Levi Ackerman x female reader

warnings: mentions of blood, blood drinking and all the things associated with vampirism, SFW (for now 👀), implied danger, a bit of flirting but y’know… it’s Levi so let him warm up a bit

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Part Two

“Is this really necessary?” Levi scoffed into the depths of his teacup. 

Hange frowned. They leaned across the antique desk, bringing their face closer to his own and he arched an eyebrow at the overreaction to what had been a simple question. The light from the lamp glinted off their glasses, hazel eyes attempting to fix him in place but all it achieved was a faint sense of amusement. 

“If you’re trying for intimidation, Hange, then I’m afraid you’ve met your match.” 

“Why do you have to be so difficult?” they enthused, crumpling into a mass of limbs and messily tied hair that he wished nothing more than to sweep aside from the papers they were currently messing up. “It’s been too long, Levi. Far too long.” 

Maybe that was true, not that he was about to admit to it. 

“How long has it been exactly?” 

Hange ground down on their molars, hands balling into fists by their sides. He felt a twinge of sympathy that they had been the one deployed on what he assumed would be a doomed mission. They were not the first and likely would not be the last, but it was hard to maintain that ounce of sympathy when he honestly did not care. 

Levi couldn’t recall the last time he felt much of his emotions. Mostly he was numb to them and that suited him fine. Why couldn’t he be left to rot in the peace of his library? He knew why, and that’s where the first tendrils of inky hatred broke the calm surface of his demeanour. 

“He worries.” 

His pupils shrank before dilating to swallow his irises whole. The pen in his hand gave an ominous groan as the very oxygen from the room was expunged. Hange stepped back.  

“He can go to hell for all I care,” he hissed vehemently. 

“Levi. Be reasonable, you have to eat,” they beseeched, palms spread wide to show they meant no hostility. “How long are you going to continue with this childish behaviour? You’re older than I am by nearly half a century and yet you’re claiming that the donors, who want to serve you, might I add, don’t meet your requirements? Come on.” 

Levi lifted his chin, indignant in his pettiness. It was childish, of course it was, but it was working and that sense of satisfaction felt better than any blood ever could. There was nothing for him to say in retaliation so instead, he let the silence hang until Hange couldn’t stomach it—it didn’t take long. Their feet shuffled on the priceless rug; arms sent skyward before they flopped into the leather wingback chair opposite him, slumped in what he assumed to be defeat. 

“Maybe he was wrong this time,” they offered dejectedly.  

His curiosity piqued, and he quickly steepled his fingers to stop them from fidgeting and giving himself away entirely. Levi had always liked Hange and it was proving harder to resist his thirst for knowledge this time around. It wouldn’t hurt to give in just a little, to show that he wasn’t downright refusing like he had done the last three times someone was sent to tempt him into sating his appetite. 

“Wrong about what?” 

“Hm? Oh. Erwin said he handpicked your newest donor. I think his exact words were along the lines of… ‘Levi will adore her. There is no possible way he could deny himself a taste.’ Or something like that.” Hange deepened their voice at the appropriate part, brow furrowed in mimicry of their shared sire, and he felt the corner of his lips twitch. 

Meddlesome Erwin. He could never keep his nose out of his affairs for long. That hatred began to bubble and boil. How audacious of him to assume he had so little self-restraint. It had been nearly a whole month since his last meal, and whilst the hunger was ever-present, the deliciousness of being stubborn and succeeding at it fed him more than adequately. 

“Nonsense,” he said. 

“—said you’d say that too.” 

Hange was picking at their cuticles, deliberately not looking at him and his teeth flashed as his lips curled back with a snarl. He would show Erwin. One more to add to the rejection pile would not do any harm. Maybe Erwin would finally back off if he resisted this, oh-so-special, human. 

“Send them to me. I will be the one to decide, not Erwin.” 

“Excellent!” The brunette jumped to their feet with a wide, Cheshire Cat smile. “She’s in my car. I’ll be sure to show her in.” 

Fuck. Levi felt played and he had no one to blame but himself. Ire and pride were to be his downfall. His mouth opened to protest except it was already far too late. He snapped his jaw closed and shut his eyes, counting silently in the hopes of regaining a fraction of his composure. 

He was unsure exactly how long he stayed like that, his counting giving way to mediation methods he had mastered decades ago, and time ceased to exist.  

Footsteps echoed along the corridor leading to his library, they were steady and far from nervous unlike most who traipsed these lonesome hallways. A knock reverberated on the heavy mahogany door, and he heard the faintest exhale of breath. 

“Enter.” 

~~~~~~~~

You weren’t sure what to expect, but nothing could prepare you for the whirlwind that had been the last few hours. 

The existence of vampires had come as a shock to the entire world back when they chose to step out of the shadows, to reveal their truths and assure the masses that the nightmares told in literature were nowhere near reality. Some countries took to the adaptation of the world as we knew it more readily than others, mostly countries where folklore and traditions surrounding the dead—or undead in this case—remained steadfast and revered. 

With synthetic blood still a future pipe dream, the demand for consensual blood was at an all-time high. Years of legislation and government interference had seen the rise of blood donor agencies specifically aimed at catering to those that no longer had a beating heart… or did they? Honestly, you weren’t sure you knew for certain. Research on vampires was strictly prohibited so the only public information was what they chose to share, and they were very secretive. 

For those who longed to rub shoulders—or more—with the powerful creatures of the night, these agencies were not the fantasy-fuelled dream they hoped for. They were no more than standard clinical settings where you donated a pint of your blood in exchange for a cookie and a promise that someone out there would be very happy to taste you. Some clinics showed a catalogue of vampires with their preferred blood type listed beneath candid photos, but those were a rarity and extremely expensive to become affiliated with, despite being the ones most commonly advertised. 

What was even more rare, and completely hush-hush, were the vampires that drank directly from the vein. Of course, there was the negative press associated with those who believed themselves to be ‘true’ vampires. Blood drinking that led to death was extremely rare but heavily sensationalised by the media. It meant that those who chose to remain faithful to the old ways were extremely selective, with rigorous measures in place to vet applicants. You knew that more than most having spent the past several months infiltrating such a place. 

It all led to today and you couldn’t shake the feeling of that fateful meeting just a few hours ago. Erwin Smith was an imposing man, one that you would be flustered by in normal circumstances but add in that he was the head of a powerful vampire syndicate and with an unknown age, it only worsened your predicament.  

His piercing blue eyes, neatly parted blond hair and Roman nose were accentuated by the aura that all vampires possessed. It was as if power radiated from them, and it wasn’t hard to see why so many people in positions of authority were outed as immortals during The Awakening. You were certain he could see right into your soul when he shook your hand and inclined his head, and whatever he saw… he liked. It left you feeling on edge, like you had taken the first step towards a destiny that had been written for millennia.  

That Erwin had seen something you couldn’t fathom was the only reason you found yourself climbing out of the black town car and following an excitable Hange towards a dimly lit portion of the stately house. They were far too animated for your liking, and although you had found it all too easy to form a quick bond of friendship with them, there was a glint in their eye that reminded you of a shark—a predator. 

Nerves be damned, you knocked and heard the low commanding request to enter after a heartbeat or two of silence so loud it was deafening. The handle was cool beneath your fingers, not a bead of sweat sullying your palms when you pushed into the room with your eyes cast low. There was a sharp inhale of breath, and you glanced up to see a young man sitting behind a polished desk. 

“Good evening, Miss...?” The man inquired politely, standing when you approached and gesturing for you to take the seat opposite. 

You gave him your name and watched him taste the weight of it, the syllables rolling along his tongue until you thought you might never wish for another person to use it again. Black hair as pure as a midnight sky hung into curtains over his brow, it might have hidden the furrow had it not been so prominent, but you didn’t comment. 

“Pretty,” he mused almost to himself before continuing. “Am I to assume that you know who I am or were you not fed that information?” 

Frowning, you blinked down at your hands in your lap. There had been some hint that he might not be as friendly as you would like, but it was hard not to wither beneath his icy stare. Despite the cold reception, you couldn’t help but find him handsome. At nearly a foot shorter than Erwin, his presence was no less impressive, in fact, he commanded more of your attention without even trying. 

“I believe,” he started quietly, “I asked you a question. 

“I-I was told your name is Levi and that you would be mean to me if I spoke out of turn.”  

You left out the part about being warned against his dismissive attitude and general lack of compassion for anyone other than himself. It didn’t feel right to poke the bear any more than was necessary. 

“Tch.” Levi clicked his tongue against his teeth. His nostrils flared almost imperceptibly, and you watched at the subtle widening of his eyes before a veil of contempt fell across his features. 

“Levi Ackerman, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Are you certain about that?” You slapped your palm over your traitorous mouth, mentally chastising yourself. 

“I’ve been sent a cheeky one, delightful.” 

“I didn’t mean to… sorry. I’m used to speaking my mind,” you conceded softly. Did he have to have such sharp eyes? The grey hue swirled almost mercurially and since your arrival, they had shifted from pale to dark and back again. It left you wondering why. 

“Speaking your mind in the company of vampires is not always the most wise.” 

“Is that a threat?” 

“Not at all. Simply a fact.” Levi arched an eyebrow. His face was neutral, impassive, or so he hoped. It was hard to remain calm when your very scent wafted invitingly towards him. Your aroma was different from any other he had ever experienced, and he wanted to kick himself for falling further into this perfectly cunning trap. 

It didn't help matters that he also found you incredibly pretty, no easy feat given his history of lovers and the like over the many many years. A good-looking face could only take him so far, but there was more to you than met the eye and he scowled harder when you glanced away. One false move and he would be fully entangled in a spider's web made just for him.

You hummed, musing quietly as to whether you believed him or not. There was no need for threats when there was a seven-figure insurance policy in your father’s name should anything fatal befall you. That would be more than enough to ensure his twilight years were spent in luxury. 

“Do you always conduct interviews such as these before you drink?” 

Levi canted his head. “You haven’t done this,” he waved his hand between the two of you, “before?” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“So, you’re not a virgin blood donor then.” 

“I didn’t say that either,” you said churlishly. 

Whether you knew it or not, your blood was heating the longer this back and forth ensued. Levi wanted to bite down hard on his tongue as the scent of bergamot tickled his olfactory senses and he began to salivate uncontrollably. Give it another minute or two and his gums would throb with the want to release the full length of his canines, making it harder to speak without a lisp. Harder, not impossible. 

“You’re testing my patience,” he warned flatly. 

You shifted in your seat and straightened your spine. If it took you screwing your courage to the sticking place, then so be it. He might be possibly the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on, but you were not without reason for being here. It was important to remember that and not fall into some silly bickering that could see all your carefully cultivated plans blown up in one fell swoop. 

“That wasn’t my intention,” you admitted truthfully, “but you must know that I’ve been thoroughly vetted in every possible way. I’ve even personally met Mr Smith, he—” 

Suddenly, he was in front of you.  

No longer safely on the other side of the desk but right there in front of your chair. His hands gripped the leather arms until you could hear the fabric whimper in protest. The mercurial swirl of his irises painted a storm-laden sky, and you swallowed down the shriek caught fast in your throat. 

“Did. He. Taste. You.” 

What was happening? Where had this unexpected shift come from? His clipped words were raw with potent fury, and only when you shrank back did a momentary sense of panic skitter over his face. The veil of contempt ripped away to reveal… fuck, you didn’t know.  

“What...? Mr Ackerman, please.” You choked out the words, overcome by contrasting desires that made no sense. The most sensible was to run, to flee as fast as you could and hope that there would be protection outside of his opulent library. The other was also to run but towards him, to hurtle yourself into his arms and comfort a man—was he still a man? —you had only just met. 

“Your blood,” he managed to say without snarling whilst his eyes raked over the throbbing pulse in your neck and up to your terrified eyes, “it’s singing to me.” 

Levi had chosen not to believe in it. After centuries of existence and barely any tales of it being documented, he had refused to listen to the stories Erwin spoke of so many moons ago. Tales of blood that sang so sweetly that you could not deny it. Pieces were missing from his memory, other myths attached to the phenomena but it hardly mattered when he was listening to the most alluring music he had ever heard in his life.  

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when it started, it certainly wasn't when you first entered his home or even when you gave him your name without reservation. One moment he was quelling the desire to draw you into his lap and scent the blood directly beneath your skin and the next he shadow-stepped without meaning to.

He was utterly fear-struck. 

The door burst open before you could think to speak, to ask what the hell he meant by your blood singing to him. Hange, followed by a man you hadn’t been introduced to stormed inside and yelling ensued without further ado. Levi was being backed into a corner and you could only blink dumbly as the words slurred together, unfocused and intelligible. 

You were standing, being led to the door but you kept looking back. The hands on your shoulders tightened when you started to resist, Levi met your eyes and shook his head once, solemnly. He threw up his hands in surrender and you wanted to die right there. The door was steps away, nothing but a pounding war drum sounded in your ears and then with startling clarity that pierced through the noise, he spoke. 

“Please, I have to know… did he taste you?” 

Your mouth opened to respond, the answer on the tip of your tongue but before you could voice it, you were in the back of the same black town car you had arrived in, with tears in your eyes and a heavy ache in your heart. 

[euphorickaeya]

THE ALMIGHTY | part 2

buwan’s notes : people seemed to really like my first fic, so I’m gonna write more about it haha hehe

summary : news spread of their creator’s behaviour to the people of Liyue, and the archons think they could scold their god for their behaviour, but the creator proves them wrong.

CW: obsession, revenge, classic signora move of taking a gnosis lols, threatening, sagau. (The dendro archon is not here lols, Nahida is granted full immunity from Reader’s wrath.)

recommended song : you should see me in a crown - billie eilish.

taglist : @emperatris-rinaka | @iyhmibyo | @nicebonescomrades

“It’s completely cruel behaviour!” Venti cried out, looking over to your throne, where you sat unwavered by Venti’s attempt to shake sense into you.

“That family’s probably suffering and you had denied them mercy! Your grace, it’s wrong!” Venti walked up to your throne, but a glare from you was enough to make him stop a few feet away.

“If you know what’s better for you, I’d say you stay right where you stand.” You hissed. Your glare redirected itself to the remaining archons in the room, all sat stiff in their respective seats, unable to look at you, for your eyes held nothing but hatred.

Even if they were archons, how could they bare such a scorning glare?

“Firstly, I thought this gathering was about my next plans as creator? not a pathetic scolding from an absent archon.” You didn’t have to pierce your spear to know you’ve hurt the anemo archon to a horrible degree.

“Second, what does it matter what I say, is this not what you wanted? A creator that ruled? I wasn’t made aware that I had to be kind, or generous,” you stood from your crystal seat, the heels of your shoes hitting the marble with ear-piercing clanks.

“I..your grace, it’s just inhumane.. only you have the power to cure any sickness from this world..” Venti suddenly cowered, even though he stood so proud just a few minutes before.

You scoffed, “please, what’s inhumane is the treatment I received upon descending on these lands.” Venti clenched his fists, refusing to take your selfish behaviour as an answer.

“Your grace, I understand your hurt and anger but you are the creator, your job-“ Venti couldn’t finish his sentence before crystals appeared paper thin right in front of his gaze. Ready to pierce, ready to kill.

“You absolute idiot. You don’t understand shit.” You spat, walking up to him, face to face, glaring into his core. “How dare you, tell me what my job is, you weren’t even anything, before I made you.” the crystals seemed to close in, making Venti hold in a breath he didn’t even know he took.

“You don’t want a creator, or a god, you want a puppet.” Your eyes glance at the sitting archons, all sporting a face of worry and tension. “You want a face so that you could do what you want.” Zhongli and Ei could hear the steps you took toward their table booming in their ears.

Loud and deafening, intimidating them to submit. “The only reason I’m sitting here is because of my gold blood,” you scoffed, seeing the archons move uncomfortably in their seats, “even then, if it wasn’t that golden colour you so desired, my head would be on display for those who “dared” to defy the creator’s will.” You slammed your hands on the table, making the archons flinch.

Ei could do nothing but gulp, her hands felt sweaty, her electro vision starting to bolt around in her hands, nervous.

“Your grace, you’re overreacting.” The tsaritsa stood, from her seat, and faced you. Challenging you, unable to take the horrible scolding you were giving them.

“Am I? Was hunting me down through teyvat, not overreacting? Was the celebratory feast of the capture of the imposter not overreacting?”You took a step towards the cryo archon, her cold glare suddenly breaking under your hardening stare back. “Was my planned execution, not overreacting?”

“You speak so much about what’s right and wrong, and have let your subjects do wrongful things in my name, yet I’m the one who’s overreacting.” You laughed, now you stood face to face with the archon, her stare somehow not wavering as she stood in front of her creator.

“Tell me, Tsaritsa, is this overreacting?” You asked, a sarcastic smile on your face, before you phased your hand through her chest, the cryo archon did not have enough time to even furrow her eyebrows in confusion before she was face to face with her own gnosis.

Suddenly, she felt the hollow interior of her body, making her gasp, shattering her cold demeanour. Her hand reached up to clutch her chest as she unwillingly wobbled, unable to come face to face with her core of power.

“I’ve given you all too much power, even as archons. Now, you think you could boss me around like a servant at your feet.” You inspected the chess piece in your palms, the cold of the cryo power radiated from said piece.

The crystalline blue glared at you straight in the face, as flurries of snow orbited it, showing anyone just how powerful a gnosis was.

“You don’t respect me, there’s not enough years of devotion under any of your belts to even come close to respecting me.” The six archons in the room now stood in fear, anxiousness of their creator.

A thud was heard, it was obvious that it was from the tsaritsa, who lost all of her strength in standing herself up, putting up a ground.

The tsaritsa could on stare at you in betrayal, in shock. How could a god she worshipped so passionately, take away their blessings so quickly?

“What can we do to have you forgive us, your grace? Say the word and we’ll do it,” the hydro archon stood up from her seat, desperation and a desire to please her god written all over her place.

A silence took over the room for a bit, you seemed like your were contemplating, even maybe taking in the hydro archon’s question, even the rest of the archons peaked their ears, trying to find out what would return their kind and generous creator back up to the surface.

It felt like days before you could answer, a laugh left your divine lips, you laughed out of mocking, of sarcasm, as the archons felt their hope slowly diminish at your heartless and emotionless laugh.

“If you think you can earn my forgiveness, you’re better off earning something else.”

[prythianpages]

Stuck On You | Part Three

cassian x reader | Cassian can't seem to forget about you since the night you met seven years ago. he thought he would never see you again but when he does, he's determined to make you his. this time for good.

“Don’t worry. She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know, I read her diary.”

[series masterlist]

A/N: I debated on splitting this into two parts since it came out longer than intended but I wanted to leave the bulk of the angst in this part. Some more scenes and quotes from Lilo & Stitch since I couldn't help myself. just one more part! I have a rough outline of it so I probably won't be able to finish it tonight but definitely by some time this coming week.

Warnings: angst, some fluff if you squint, mentions of violence/abuse

“Cassian said he would take me out for ice cream if you said yes!” Seraphine beamed, removing her boots at the foyer of your small, humble home. “I’ve never had ice cream before. Have you?”

“Sera,” you said with a sigh, concern laced into your tone over how attached she was to him. His month-long absence had given you a glimpse of the consequence of the effect he had on not just you but Seraphine as well and you didn’t want her to get hurt. She wouldn’t understand. 

“I think it’s best if we don’t see Cas anymore.”

She turned to you with a pout. “He’s our friend! You have to say yes.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Seraphine’s lip quivered, her tired eyes brimming with tears.

You didn’t answer, couldn’t bring yourself to.

Instead, you threw your aching body onto the small loveseat in the living room. This week had taken both an emotional and physical toll on you, as you tirelessly kept Seraphine up to date with her studies, managed the tavern’s monthly expenses and wrestled with your inner turmoil concerning Cassian. The constant restlessness in Seraphine only added to the mountain of exhaustion, her unbridled excitement buzzing incessantly over everything.

You knew you should draw a bath for the both of you and then head to bed, considering your fatigue.

However, you were well aware of your little sister’s stubborn nature as it was one you also exhibited. It must run in the family. Once she was fixated on something, there was no distracting her and judging by the intensity of her little sister’s sobs, you braced yourself for a long and challenging night.

“You’re so mean!” She cried. “I hate you!”

“Please don’t be a pain tonight,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“You should just sell me and buy a rabbit instead!” Sara shouted at you with her finger pointed at you, referring to your empty threat of replacing her with a rabbit every time she misbehaved. You hadn’t brought it up in months, years even, and were surprised she remembered.

“At least a rabbit would behave better than you,” you muttered. 

“Go ahead!” Seraphine exclaimed, making you wince at her sharp tone. You hoped your neighbors could not hear her, fearing what they’d do if they did. You heard her angry stomps as she made her way to her room. “Then you’ll be happy! It will be smarter than me too.”

“And quieter!”

“You’ll like it because it’s stinky like you!”

“Go to your room!”

“I’m already in my room!” Seraphine screamed as she opened her door just to slam it shut again, irritating you further.

You grabbed the nearest pillow and brought it to your face to muffle your scream.

**

Guilt began to settle as your initial anger faded away. You knew you had overreacted. For many years, it had just been you and the small family your mother had created. Neither you or Seraphine had made any friends in Ironcrest yet, unless you counted the friendly old male who you purchased spices and groceries from every Sunday. 

Your small family of four had unexpectedly and significantly reduced to half, leaving just you and Seraphine. Of course, she was excited when Cassian came along. You’d deny it if asked but a part of you was excited too.

He was sweet and kind but your worries crept in about what it meant to allow him into your tightly-knit world. What if things didn’t work out between you? What if the burdens you carried were too much for him to bear? You couldn’t allow him in further when your sister was already so attached to him, unable to bear the thought of having her witness another loved one disappear from her life.

You had to end this, whatever it was that you and Cassian had and you had to end it soon. Before any further damage could be provoked.

Throughout your life, stability had been a luxury, and the haunting fear of attachment loomed over you. The constant uprooting had instilled a deep seated fear of getting close to people. Every bond you had forged was inevitably followed by a painful goodbye. The walls safeguarding your heart, constructed since childhood, grew higher and stronger with every move. You had hoped that your mother’s marriage would bring a lasting change, a nice and needed break from moving, and for a while, it had.

However, the universe had a cruel way of reminding you that stability was a luxury you couldn’t afford. You would’ve never expected your one night stand with Cassian would lead to something more–to this. 

Cassian, with his unwavering determination, posed a threat to the walls you had carefully built around your heart. Love. It seemed like a beautiful risk but the fear of losing what was gained, overshadowed its allure for you. Your heart had never felt so heavy.

You took a deep breath before knocking on your sister’s door. The lack of response didn’t surprise you. She must still be upset. The soft glow of faelight seeping from beneath her door confirmed she was awake. Balancing the two mugs of hot cocoa in one arm, you opened the door and slipped inside.

Your stomach churned at the sight of your little sister, clutching the pegasus doll that Cassian had gifted her. Tears streaked her face as she gazed down solemnly.

“I brought you, your favorite. Hot cocoa,” you offered, hoping to bring a glimmer of cheer to her troubled expression.

“We’re a broken family, aren’t we?”

You frowned, setting the tray down on the nightstand, hesitating before answering. “Maybe but only a little…”

You settled yourself onto Seraphine’s bed, gently cradling her into your lap. “I’m sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you.”

“I like you better as a sister than a mother…” Seraphine sniffled.

“Yeah?” You tenderly brushed her long, dark hair away from her face in contemplation.

 A pang tugged at your heart–the weight of becoming a mother figure pressed on your shoulders. As a sister, you also played a nurturing and protective role in Seraphine’s upbringing, offering support when it was needed. You were the one Seraphine would run to for comfort after your mother's scolding or being stern with her, but now you were the one that had to be stern. It was a struggle finding the delicate balance between fulfilling the motherly duties Seraphine needed and preserving the sibling bond that meant the world to you.

“And you like me better as a sister than a rabbit, right?”

“Oh, my sweet Sera.” You replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead, your arms wrapping around her smaller form with a gentle squeeze. “Of course I do! I would not make my special hot cocoa for just anyone. Only you.”

You handed one of the mugs to her, smiling fondly as she inhaled the rich aroma of the hot cocoa.

“Cassian says ice cream is like frozen milk,” she mused softly. “I wonder what hot cocoa would taste like frozen but then it would no longer be hot cocoa, right? We would have to come up with a new name for it but I don’t think I like the sound of frozen cocoa…”

Her innocent dilemma made you laugh, finding it utterly endearing. You wanted her worries to always be like this. Small and trivial.

“Perhaps we should leave the cocoa out to freeze and find out for ourselves? We can decide on a name then.”

**

The night air was chilling, the cold wind biting at your cheeks. You hugged your coat closer to you, sparing at glance at Seraphine to make sure she still had hers on and the scarf you had bought her was snug to keep her neck warm. You couldn’t help but giggle when you caught Cassian, who had been persistent on walking you home, was constantly blowing his hair out of his face.

“Did you lose all your hair ties?” You quipped, digging into the pocket of your pants and offering a hair tie to him to alleviate his struggle. He reluctantly took the elastic from you and tied his hair up into his usual bun. You noticed he wore it down more recently. “You can keep it, too.”

“I just wanted to let it loose, try something different.” He replied with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

You let out a small hum, stuffing your hands back into your pockets to keep them hidden and fell into a thoughtful silence once more. There was a knot in your stomach as you three neared your house.

Seraphine, who once again had chosen to skip ahead of you two, paused. She turned around with a knowing gleam in her eye. Her lips curled up and she opened her mouth to speak and if you hadn’t been occupied in the tempest of your thoughts, you wouldn’t have missed Cassian bringing his finger to his lips to keep her from exposing him.

“Fancy hair,” she giggled, despite his plea.

“What was that?” You said, turning your head toward your sister.

Both Seraphine and Cassian exchanged a look before turning to you, responding in unison:

“Nothing!”

Your eyes narrowed at the two in suspicion but you decided not to question it.

When you three finally reached your home, Cassian was surprised at your invitation to come inside. You had never invited him inside, always bidding your farewells at your door. He walked in, overwhelmed by the sweet and delightful scent. It smelled just like you. His eyes darted around the living area curiously, taking in all the small touches you incorporated to make this place feel like a warm and inviting home.

 You instructed Seraphine to change and pick a book for you to read to her before bed. She politely said her goodbye and goodnight to Cassian, her movements slow as she was reluctant to follow your instructions. She had no desire to go to bed, not when Cassian was inside your home for the first time and you found the glare she sent you amusing.

Cassian was staring at the wilted and dead flowers resting in a small vase you had placed on the kitchen table, recognizing them as the ones he had gifted you so long ago. You never threw them away.

“Cassian.”

He loved the way you said his name. But it was different this time. He pulled his attention away from the kitchen table to look back at you. You leaned against the back of the loveseat in hesitation, your eyes revealing the weight of the decision you were about to make.

His throat tightened. “Yes?”

“I think it’s best if you stop coming here.” Your voice was laced with a vulnerability you hated and before Cassian could reply, you were speaking again. “I have to take care of my sister. I can’t risk her getting attached, more so than she already is and–and neither can I. We’ve lost so much already…”

A tear escaped your eye. You brushed it away with a trembling hand and then Cassian was bridging the distance between you both, his hand gently cupping your cheek and coaxing your gaze to his. 

“Y/n,” he gently whispered. “You’re not going to lose me.”

“How can you say that? What if something happens and–”

“Please don’t push me away.”

 “They call you the Lord of Bloodshed. You’re the commander of the High Lord’s armies. You made a name for yourself. And me? I am no one. I’m not worthy of love. Of you. You’ll soon realize it and grow tired of me–”

“Stop.” Cassian interrupted, bringing his other hand up to cup your face. His touch was both comforting and agonizing. “You are worthy of love and so much more and I want to prove it to you. There could be a room full of others but just like that night at the bonfire, I want you. I choose you.”

A heavy sigh escaped you as you gently removed his hands from your face. “But I can’t choose you. I have to choose Seraphine. I always will and right now, I can’t afford to have you both.”

The weight of your words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the responsibilities that anchored you, pulling you away from the love that beckoned.

Cassian grasped your hands in his, refusing to let them slip away. He did not want to let go of you. He understood the depth of your worries and the distress etched onto your features was breaking his heart. Why couldn’t you see yourself the way he saw you?

“I won’t force you into something that scares you, y/n.” He reassured you with a soft tone, his thumbs tracing soothing circles on the back of your hands. “I only want what’s best for you and Seraphine.”

Your lips trembled as you managed a small, strained smile.

“But you have to know that I love you–both of you. And this love, it’s not going anywhere. It’s a constant. A promise that will never waver.”

**

Cassian hadn’t returned and although you had asked for it, you couldn’t deny the lingering void in your heart. Seraphine sensed something was amiss when your voice wavered as you read her a bedtime story shortly after he left. Surprisingly, she refrained from asking about Cassian until a week later, almost as if she dreaded hearing the news that he wouldn’t be coming back. 

When she finally did, tears welled in her eyes and you comforted her, convincing yourself it was for the best. However, the attempt of reassurance was futile and did little to ease your own pain.

Seraphine sighed, absentmindedly nudging the green vegetable on her plate. Scrumps was propped on the table, facing her with its stitched eyes. “At least I still have you,” she murmured to the pegasus plush. “You’ll never leave me, right?”

You frowned at the sight, feeling helpless and unsure how to alleviate your sister’s sorrow. This was precisely what you had tried to shield her from and it stung to realize it was too late. The damage had already been done.

Your attention was then pulled away as the creaking door to the tavern swung open. The room fell into silence. The dining Illyrians, previously immersed in their conversations, cast furtive glances toward the entrance.

In stepped the formidable son of Ironcrest’s war-lord, Kallon. Another Illyrian stepped in behind him but he was overshadowed by Kallon’s commanding presence. His gaze swept over the room, eyes like steel, assessing every face, every corner of the establishment. The tension in the air was palpable. He was looking for someone.

The regulars exchanged subtle nods, acknowledging the unspoken command to show respect. Whispers died down, and the muted sound of footsteps echoed as he advanced further into the tavern. The atmosphere had shifted from one of amiability to one of quiet deference, all eyes now focused on the figure who seemed to hold the establishment in the palm of his hand.

Your eyes were wide and you felt your body tense. You almost forgot how to breathe when Kallon’s cold eyes found yours. Seraphine, who sensed your distress, hopped off her chair and ran to you. Her tiny hand found yours and you guided her to stand behind you as Kallon continued his approach.

“Kallon,” you managed to find your voice, forcing a smile onto your face as you bowed your head in respect. “Should I prepare a table for you and your companion?”

“There’s no need.” He replied. He then turned his head at the eavesdropping Illryians, his gaze a silent warning to them. It wasn’t until the menacing look on his face prompted a couple to abandon their tables and those that remained to resume their conversations that he turned his attention back to you. “I came here to speak to you.”

“Me?” You echoed, your voice daring to break. The male behind Kallon remained quiet but you caught the way his gaze had flickered to your little sister, who hid behind your skirts. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“It has come to my attention that you have been fraternizing with an Illyrian male from Windhaven–” Kallon’s lips curled up in disgust and you felt Seraphine’s grip on you tighten. “– who just so happens to also be the High Lord’s general.”

“His name is Cassian.” Seraphine said, peeking out from behind you to scowl at Kallon.

Kallon looked toward your sister with a scoff. You pressed Seraphine into your hip to keep her from speaking again, worried of the consequences that may unfold. “He’s just a friend.”

Kallon’s attention drifted back to you, his gaze burning into you. “It seems you and I have different understandings of a friend because friends don’t kiss each other now do they?”

Your breath hitched. The two of you seldom interacted with each other. The last time you did was to report your mother’s murder. You cursed yourself at that moment, disappointed with yourself. You had failed to recognize that Cassian was well known throughout Illyria and to make it worse, he was from Windhaven. A rival camp to Ironcrest. You wondered how long Kallon had been following you and why he waited to confront you about it now, several months later since Cassian’s first visit. 

“I–”

“It’s not a good look for you, y/n.” Kallon shook his head in disapproval with a small tut. “You of all people should know the consequences of whoring yourself out. Finding a husband will be troublesome for you and if you continue down this path, it is not a good example for your dear little sister.”

Your blood grew cold at the insult and you forced yourself to look up to keep the tears that were threatening to spill at bay. “I’m s–”

“It seems I may have failed you in some aspects.” Kallon interrupted, raising a finger at you in warning. He turned his attention to the empty glasses lined at the counter. “It is my job, after all, to help my father run this camp and it seems that I have overlooked you. Poor little y/n. You have been running this business and raising your sister all on your own.”

His fingers danced along the counter, a wicked gleam in his eyes. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the air, a sharp and crystalline shatter that reverberated through your bones and had Seraphine wincing into your body. You stared at the shattered glass at your feet, heart pounding through your ears.

“But it is not your place to do so.” Kallon reprimanded, his voice seething with a barely contained intensity. “It is his.”

You lifted your gaze.

The Illyrian male that had been quietly observant finally stepped forward. His features held a strange familiarity you couldn’t quite place. His eyes were cold and distant, lips pressed into a taut line.

“This is Aerik. Seraphine’s uncle.”

**

The wind was knocked out of you as the day you had dreaded finally came. Kallon had tracked down your step father’s only living relative– his brother, Aerik. The illusion you had so carefully crafted was unraveling and you found yourself at the precipice, forced to surrender the tavern and Seraphine, as if she were a mere object, to him.

But you knew the future that laid ahead for Seraphine if she stayed with her uncle. To you, she was your precious little sister, the one you had devoted your life to. To him, she was disposable, reduced to nothing but a bargaining tool once she was of marrying age. 

She would not have the freedom to be a child as she did with you. She would be groomed to become a submissive wife and soon enough, her wings would be clipped. A tradition that had been banned but not enforced in Ironcrest. You could not allow any harm to fall to your sister, not when you were alive and capable of taking care of her. You wondered if this is how your mother had felt when she had you, cornered by the cruel world.

Kallon had left moments ago, along with the remaining customers, but now without a warning. A threat to harm you and Cassian in unimaginable ways if Kallon heard of Cassian meeting with you again.

"I don't give a fuck if he's the High Lord's pet. This is my father's camp and as his son, I have the authority to punish those who dare cross us as needed."

You had instructed Seraphine to go to the kitchens to help tidy up, leaving you and Aerik alone. Your eyebrows knitted together in an exasperated manner, bewildered by his demands. 

You were a half breed–half high fae, half Illyrian–and a bastard. You were of little significance to Aerik–to any male in this damned camp, if you were being honest–and his plans with Seraphine did not include you. He wanted to take her away from you. For good.

He shifted, directing himself toward the kitchen and you were stopping him. Your hand gripped his arm desperately. “Seraphine needs me.”

Aerik tore his arm from your grasp with a snarl, using it to grip yours instead in retribution. His grip was hard and bruising and had you grimacing. “Is this what she needs?” He seethed, vividly gesturing to the tavern and lack of order in Seraphine’s life.

 “It seems clear to me that you need her a lot more than she needs you.”

**

Cassian told himself he would give you space, as tortuous as it was for him. It’s what you had asked him for. He missed you dearly, often wondering if you were feeling that painful ache in your heart too. Despite the temptation, he resisted the urge to ask Azriel to check in on you with his shadows, not wanting to bring his friend into this tangled messy emotions he found himself grappling with. He couldn’t shake the desire to check up on you one more time, hoping that you might've change your mind.

A week later, when an overwhelming sense of unease gripped him, he set off for Ironcrest.

Cassian pushed open the door to the familiar tavern, his second home as Rhysand had teased him weeks ago. His eyes scanned the room in search of you like they always did, but he couldn't spot the one person he was hoping to see. His head was then turning to the table Seraphine often occupied only to find it empty. 

An unsettling feeling knotted in his stomach when he couldn’t spot either of you, not missing the glare the male behind the counter had sent his way. It confirmed his suspicion that you weren’t here. Growing concerned, he decided to look for you, hoping you were safe and sound at home.

The journey was swift as it was one he knew by heart, his footsteps echoing through the quiet streets. When he reached your door, he hesitated for a moment. He could see the subtle glow of a light, coming from the small window that he knew faced your living room. He heard a squeak come from inside, recognizing it as Seraphine’s, and then he was knocking on your door.

There was a faint rustling inside and then the door creaked open. Cassian’s confusion set in as he initially saw no one at the other side. It wasn’t until he heard a sharp gasp that his gaze shifted downward, relief washing over him as he spotted Seraphine.  

“Cas Cas!” Seraphine’s expression brightened, reveling in his presence and wrapping her tiny arms around him when he crouched down. “I thought I’d never see you again!”

“It’s good to see you too, munchkin.” Cassian smiled fondly, lifting her up with ease. He had missed her so much too.

“Sera, it’s time for your ba–Cassian?” You blinked, your grip on the towel in your hand tightening. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Can I come in?”

You looked past his shoulders worriedly and hesitantly nodded.

Cassian stepped into the foyer, crouching down to let Seraphine down. She grasped at his hand, guiding him to the living room where you stood with a forced smile on your face.

His worry deepened as he looked at you. "You weren’t at the tavern so I came to–to see you.”

To make sure you’re alright, is what he wanted to say but within seconds of seeing you, he knew you weren’t. Yet, you still attempted to dismiss his concern with a casual shrug. “My step-uncle is taking over the tavern now.”

“Oh yeah, Cas! I have a step-uncle now and he’s so nice to me. He bought me a new coloring book and so many toys! Do you want to see?”

Cassian realized that the glaring male from the tavern must be Seraphine’s step-uncle. He caught the way you bit the inside of your cheek at your little sister’s words, sensing something more beneath the surface.

“Sure.” He replied to Seraphine.

He waited until she disappeared down the hallway to take a step closer to you. “Is everything okay?”

A fleeting moment of hesitation flickered in your eyes that you quickly concealed, hoping he didn’t notice. But he did.

 "I'm fine, really. Just a bit tired but thankfully Aerik offered to step in to help.”

Despite her attempt to reassure him, Cassian couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The lines of worry etched on his face as he spoke, "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

“Yeah,” you nodded your head nonchalantly at him.

“Y/n.” His voice was gentle but stern and he reached out for your hands.

His fingers accidentally brushed against the bruise Aerik had left the other night and you couldn’t mask the wince that followed. Cassian stilled, eyes glancing down and widening at the marking of your skin. “Y/n, Sweetheart–”

“It’s nothing.” You were pulling your arm from his grasp and out of his view, clasping them behind your back. “I tripped and hit my arm against the counter the other night.”

Cassian felt a burning feeling in his chest, his teeth clenching. Someone had touched you--hurt you.

“Does this have anything to do with the sudden appearance of Seraphine’s uncle?”

“No.” Your response was too quick to be anything but a lie. “Aerik has been kind to us. So kind that he offered to help me find a husband.”

More lies. Your fear and anxiety grew with every passing moment that Cassian remained in Ironcrest. Kallon’s menacing warnings echoed in your mind, threatening dire consequences for both you and Cassian, if he ever returned. Since he had gone to the tavern to look for you, you were sure Aerik had seen him. Cassian was not one to easily blend into the crowd with his imposing stature, striking features and seven siphons. It was only a matter of time before he would run off to go tell Kallon.

You knew Cassian was a formidable warrior from all the gossip and tales you'd heard at the bonfire. Still, you couldn't shake your fear. Cassian was in enemy territory. Vastly outnumbered. He had to leave.

Cassian shook his head in disbelief, swallowing hard. “What?”

Stepping forward, he closed the distance between you, his intense gaze burning into your skin as you actively avoided it. “Is this what you want?”

“It’s what is best,” you told him, sidestepping his question. “So please leave. I don’t want Aerik to get the wrong idea by having you here in the house alone with me.”

“Y/N–”

“I’m so sorry, Cassian.”

Walking away, you felt your heart begin to shatter, unaware that you had also shattered his. You wiped at your eyes once you knew you were out of his view, holding your breath as you moved down the hallway. Seraphine ran past you with her coloring book and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop her.

Seraphine paused, her chest heaving as she caught up with her breath. Her lips curved into a deep frown when she spotted Cassian heading for the door. “Cas Cas, where are you going? I was going to show you my coloring book…"

"I thought you were here to stay.”

Cassian couldn’t bring himself to answer her and as young as she was, she recognized the look in his eyes. It mirrored the expression on your face before you had to deliver bad news. 

“You can leave again if you want.” Seraphine said as realization dawned on her. She casted her head down.

“I’ll remember you though. I remember everyone that leaves.”

[series masterlist]

A/N: don't hate me for breaking Cas's heart. I just live for the angst 🫠 if it's any consolation, this will have a happy ending 🩷

tagging: @kemillyfreitas

[lunarduty]

Hi!!can you do tension with gaz???

𝙎𝙈𝙊𝙆𝙀𝙔 𝙀𝙔𝙀𝙎, 𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙁𝙀𝙀𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙂𝙊𝙊𝘿?

☾ reader tends to kyle's wounds, and seems to be the only one worried. | [ TENSION ] one muse is patching up the other’s injuries which leads to intense eye contact,  lingering touches and them finally crashing their lips against each other’s. KYLE 'GAZ' GARRICK X F!READER TAGS | f!reader, slight smut WC | 1,127 x

“you know, you’re going to get a scar if you don’t take care of this properly.”

“what? don’t like men with scars?”

in spite of kyle’s attempt to break your composure, a smile did not appear in the wake of his dumb comment. a VALIANT move, on your part - he usually found little effort in getting you to smile. said it would your best feature, and that would only get you to smile more. but knowing that he wasn’t changing the bandages as often as the doctor said, you were able to fight it off.

“not when they’re easily preventable,” you fire back, eyes glancing up to chance a glare. kyle chose the perfect time to give a sheepish tilt of his head to match the SWEET look in his dark eyes - he really couldn’t turn the tactical side of him off. “you could get an infection, you know. price is already looking for a reason to keep you behind on the next mission.”

kyle gives a slight shrug with one shoulder, as to not disrupt your work. “he won’t need to. i heal fast.”

“god, you’re frustrating.”

“and you love it.”

“i love when i don’t have to worry about you getting some weird fucking infection. who knows what you could have picked up in that god-forsaken jungle.” and just for that reason, you give the wound on his arm one final drag of the alcohol wipe to ensure it really was clean. absently, a finger gently caresses the skin around it, as if trying to soothe any pain that the cleaning process might be causing kyle. as much as he can annoy you sometimes, he’s been in enough pain.

a smile is pulling on his lips when you look up, sparing him a glance before turning to retrieve the bandages. “careful, love. i might start to think you care.” he’s teasing, of course. if kyle’s at ease and feels in control, he’s got quite the smart mouth on him - but right now, you wish he wouldn’t. 

“of course i care.” yeah, maybe the words come out HARSHER than you wanted. maybe when you turn back, bandages in hand, you meet kyle’s soft gaze with a hard one. maybe you were entitled to it after he just brushes off his safety so casually. “if the roles were reversed, you’d be just as worried.”

he blinks in surprise at your sudden barrage, and to his credit, seems genuinely remorseful. kyle wasn’t like soap or ghost or even price - you loved all of them, but it seemed their reckless ways were rubbing off on him. getting him to play down his injuries more than he should.

or maybe you were just overreacting. the wound itself wasn’t even that bad. he’s had much worse. so why were you being SO HARD on him?

kyle doesn’t respond, and you silently open the bandage to wrap his arm. without seeing his face, you can’t tell what he’s thinking or feeling. maybe you don’t want to look up and risk seeing something close to frustration or annoyance or even contempt. maybe he thought you were coddling him. maybe you were. maybe…

just as you finished wrapping his arm, right before you tied it off, kyle’s hand covered both of yours. stopping your movements, yet you resist the urge to look up. “i’m sorry, okay? i didn’t know you felt so strongly about this. and you’re right - if you were hurt, i’d be just the same. maybe even worse, since i love you more.”

despite yourself, a snort comes up at his words. light and teasing, even when he’s serious. maybe it’s what you needed. “not possible. i love you more.” finally, your eyes slide up to find his. kyle was watching you, dark eyes STEADY but soft. the sight of them made you feel better about saying what was on your mind. “i guess… i don’t know, it made me start to think about things.”

“like what?”

“like…if you never came back one day? today it was a gash on your arm, but tomorrow, something way worse. something you can’t just walk off.”

“that’s not going to happen, understand?” his hand gripped yours tight, and kyle leans forward to keep your focus on him - ALIVE and breathing and warm. your eyes fall down to his lips. “i’ll always come back.”

you scoff again, not nearly as amused as last time. “you can’t promise that, kyle.”

“i am. right now. so stop making yourself sick with all that nonsense. it’s not something you have to worry about.”

you want to keep arguing. want to point out the growing probability that his luck will run out someday. how many old men come from his line of work? you aren’t given the opportunity to - not when kyle moves his grip to your wrist, yanking you closer and leaving little choice but to swing a leg over his lap. thankfully, he keeps his injured arm still - even if it rests right around your waist, more than strong enough to keep you from escaping.

“you need to rest…”

he smiles, and it’s dazzling and warm and you can’t help but reflect it. “but love, i’ve got something else that hurts. need to kiss it to make it better.”

your hands settle on his shoulders, and when kyle is as solid and warm as he is, it’s hard to recall the last time you had real alone time like this. long before the mission, at least. back on base, after you finished paperwork, and he lured you into his room under the false pretense of having a talk. kyle was the only one talking - it’s hard to speak when he’s three fingers deep in you.

and that simple, DISTANT memory resurfaces like a flash of lightning. you exhale shakily, fingertips curling gently into the rough cotton of his regulation shirt. “let me guess - your lips?” right now, you were fully willing to play into kyle’s dumb game. before he could even answer, you close the gap. lips molding together, muffling your involuntary moan from the simple feel of them. chests pressed close, hips gently rocking because this was the day after an op, and sore muscles love to get in the way of a good reunion.

kyle’s tongue follows the line of your bottom lip, a smile pulling on his own as he breaks the kiss with a pant. his hand squeezes your hip - solid and eager - and you wondered why you were ever so scared about a gash on his arm when he obviously lost none of his strength. 

a low groan comes from his throat. your mouth drops down to taste it. “well, i was going to say my cock, but we can start at my lips.”

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Thank you for answering my Origins Dragon!Marinette and Turtle!Adrien question! Please don’t worry about disagreeing with the idea; I asked for YOUR opinion and analysis on why it would OR wouldn’t work, and that’s what I got. 😌 It also made me consider meta and in-show stuff that I hadn’t before, which is cool. You mentioned wanting all of the Kwamis to be part of some sort of set of two or more, and I’d love to hear what those sets are in your head going down the full Chinese Miracle Box list and why you’d pair them together with consideration towards both the Kwami themselves and their Powers.

(Post this ask is referring to)

Oh good, I'm glad that you found it useful and not discouraging!

Talking about how to pair the Kwamis is a little tricky because of an issue that I've discussed before. That issue being that the "Chinese" miracle box seems to be about as Chinese as fortune cookies. That makes me uncomfortable because - as far as I'm aware - the Chinese zodiac is a major part of Chinese beliefs and traditions. As such, I personally feel like the box should reflect those beliefs and traditions, but I also don't know those beliefs and traditions, so I can't tell you how I'd effectively group the zodiac Kwamis in order to honor their cultural origins. I can't even be sure if my criticism is valid or just me being overly cautious!

In an ideal world where I had money to invest in this sort of thing, I'd hire a cultural consultant to work with me to design a Chinese miracle box that feels Chinese (or to tell me that I'm overthinking this and to just do whatever I want). Assuming that I'm not overreacting, this would probably mean redesigning a lot of the powers and looks so that they honor Chinese lore and not Western lore.

For example, one thing that I know for sure is that black cats are not unlucky in China. They're actually symbols of good luck (all cats are), so a Chinese box would not have the implied good luck/bad luck thing that we get with Ladybug and Chat Noir. My limited research has also raised some doubts about ladybugs being a go-to symbol of good luck or creation in China, but I'm a lot less confident about that one being a bad choice as the association may exist. I couldn't find anything definitive one way or the other. This leads me to think that, if the association exists, then it's probably a bit obscure, meaning that a Chinese box would probably go with a different animal if we were trying to be culturally accurate to what a Chinese-inspired box would really look like.

I can say with reasonable certainty that Creation is associated with the masculine yang and Destruction is associated with the feminine yin, so Tikki should possibly feel masculine to feminine Plagg. At the very least, their spots in the miracle box should probably be reversed with Plagg in the black and Tikki in the white since yin is black and yang is white?

[Image Description: center of the original miracle box showing that ladybug earrings are placed in the black part of the yin yang symbol while the black cat ring is in the white]

I also known that white rabbits being associated with time, watches, and umbrellas comes from Alice in Wonderland and not China. Are you starting to see why I'm doubting the cultural accuracy of the miracle box?

The alternate way to approach this is to remove the possible issue of Chinese culture being treated as "mystical" or nothing more than ornamentation by making the Chinese miracle box into the miracle box of no specified culture. Since that's kind of what the box already is in terms of deeper meanings and cultural ties, I think we can go that route for this discussion since we have taken a moment to acknowledge the potential issues with the box's existing design and why that's leading me to take this route as - to me - this seems to be the only way to stick to canon's lore while avoiding potential further insults to Chinese culture.

If we went to my ideal extremes with this approach, we'd actually massively cut down the number of miraculous in the box because I think that there are way too many miraculous! Who needs nineteen "unique" powers to arm and fight one villain? This is extra true since there's no real theme to the miraculous beyond the initial setup of Creation/Destruction + five random powers followed by the addition twelve more random powers with no clear ties to any culture or theme other than the look of the Kwamis that grant the powers.

But that's getting real extreme, so for this ask, we won't go there. Instead, I'll talk about some general ideas for grouping the powers that we already have and some ideas for how you could fix the randomness of our current powers to make them feel like they make sense.

To start, I love the fact that our two main heroes are supposed to be a pair power wise. That's a lovely way to approach your lore and is why I think that they should have grouped the other miraculous, too. Why are Creation and Destruction the only set? Why aren't the others in any sort of group? Why do these miraculous have the powers they do? What ties them to this box and not another box?

There are a few ways to approach pairing the other miraculous. You can come at it from a theme perspective such as the fact that both the snake and the rabbit are all about time. You can also look for opposites such as the turtle being all about defense and the dragon being more about offense. You can even go more broad and say that a given group of miraculous is all aspects of one type of power such as the peacock, the goat, and the ladybug all feeling like aspects of creation. There's really no clear way to go about this because the current powers are so freaking random!

When I approach this stuff, I don't just come up with powers. I come up with the lore and let that help guide the powers or I shape the lore around the powers I want to use until both things make sense. For example, it makes sense that Creation would have some magical being guiding it. It also makes sense that Creation would either create Destruction for balance or that they both popped into existence together so that there was always a balance. Once you have that, you say, "Okay, what other Forces would these two want in order to help guide the universe? What can't they do or what do they do consistently enough that they might want to hand it off?"

Going from there, you start to come up with ideas like maybe they wanted Time to have a physical embodiment so that they could get some guidance on the long term effects of the things that they were making, so that's Fluff coming online. But Time is a lot and they liked their balance, so maybe Sass was brought online too in order to balance Fluff with Fluff being focused on what was and what could be while Sass is focused on what is, thereby giving Fluff someone to ground her. Or maybe you even add in a third Kwami to be some sort of historian who remembers the past while Fluff is the future and Sass is the now.

Another thought path is that most things are not pure Creation or pure Destruction. You must destroy to create. When you make bread, yeast consumes sugar to create air bubbles. Creation and Destruction working together. So maybe Tikki and Plagg wanted to make "children" who could do what they couldn't do solo and that's how we got the peacock?

No matter how you go about this, I really don't think that there's a great way to explain/group all nineteen miraculous, especially if you add in the eagle and Fei's wacky prodigious with it's animal abilities. It's just too random! But I do think that there's a lot of potential in strong subsets of the ones we get in canon, especially if you're allowed to edit the powers or the Forces a bit to make them fit their supposed Force or granted power better. I've talked before about how I'd mess with Lucky Charm to remove the odd Luck association and focus on Creation and that's what I'd do with most of the miraculous because, right now, most of them don't make much sense.

For example, Ziggy - the goat - is supposed to be the Kwami of Passion and that somehow gives the power to create anything you want? I know creatives are passionate, but that still doesn't fit in my mind. It would make more sense for this to be an inspiration power like the pig or for the Force to change to Creation and Ziggy is just a lesser ladybug for some reason? And Stompp - the Ox - is Determination, but I'd actually label his shield power as an aspect of Protection, making him in some sort of pairing with the turtle. Self defense verses defense of others?

In short, the canon lore is a disaster that needs major work to feel solid which leads to lots of paths for fixing the mess. In my opinion, the best way to go about fixing it is to take the element that worked best - the Creation/Destruction pairing - and expand that out to make strong, logical lore for the other Kwamis and their associated powers. Lore that probably won't be rooted in any one culture because no culture seems to be a solid match for the lore that canon is using, which is only concerning because of the current obvious associations with China and that's not even touching on the whole Tibetan monks + Chinese culture issue. Go check out the post I linked at the start for my thoughts on that which basically sum up to, "I am not even remotely qualified to talk about this one, but it seems like a terrible idea."

(Once again, reminder that I'm not Chinese or otherwise deeply informed on Chinese culture. I'm just a person who tries her best to respect other cultures and the miracle box sets off a lot of warning bells for me. Those warning bells could always be a false positive, so you shouldn't take my thoughts as some sort of final say on this topic. Please feel free to look into this on your own and form your own opinions.

If you are Chinese or otherwise educated in these topics, then please feel free to reblog this or send an ask giving me some additional context as I really do love learning about this stuff, but it's near impossible to research! I spent a good hour talking to a local librarian trying to find books or articles in our library that talked about the Chinese zodiac from an academic perspective and we found nothing. I've got a few interlibrary loan requests out to academic libraries in our library network though and I'll follow up on this if those books end up having information that adds to the discussion.)