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[wren-of-the-woods]

Love, Joy, and Kittens

When Geralt and Yennefer finally get a room at an inn after weeks of travel, Jaskier expects to spend a calm evening with his lovers and sleep in a real bed. This plan is derailed when they find an unexpected creature in their room. Or: In which Geralt, Yennefer, and Jaskier meet a kitten. Established Geraskefer, 5k, rated T. Also on AO3!

Jaskier was having a lovely week.

Ciri had gone off with Lambert and Coën. According to Lambert, they were “having some uncle-niece bonding time.” Jaskier had suspected that this would involve a large number of explosives, cursing in various languages, and very little room for anything else, so he had suggested that he, Geralt, and Yennefer travel alone for a time and rejoin them in a few weeks. The relief on Geralt’s and Yennefer’s faces at the idea had been highly amusing. 

The three of them had been wandering the Path for almost a week. It had, for the most part, been wonderful. Jaskier got to spend time with his lovers, singing at them and making them laugh. He got to appreciate their beauty all day long. He got to spend every night cuddled up to the two of them, reveling in the warmth and safety.

However, he did not get to do any of this cuddling in an actual bed.

Their financial reserves were not exactly plentiful and, with Ciri gone, they did not have any real reason to prefer the comfort of an inn over the convenience of a bedroll in the woods. Jaskier understood all of this perfectly well. This did not mean he was happy about it. 

He may have complained about it a little bit, but, well, he was a bard. If Yennefer and Geralt didn’t want to hear a little whining now and then, they shouldn’t have brought him along. 

Jaskier hadn’t expected anything to come of his grousing. Jaskier had been wrong. 

After a particularly long day of travel, Geralt and Yennefer apparently came to an unspoken agreement. Geralt led Roach into the first town they came across and Yennefer headed in the direction of the inn. Jaskier’s confused and halfhearted objections (“What? Yen, that’s not really necessary, I know we don’t have much coin. I’m really fine, I swear!) were met with firm denial (“Shut up and let us spoil you, idiot), so Jaskier deemed it best to give in.

He made as though to protest at the price the innkeeper named for the single room that was apparently available, thinking to offer his services as a bard in exchange for a discount, but Yennefer cut him off before he could. She handed over the money and nodded in approval when Geralt began to drag him upstairs. She followed them shortly after.

“I still think I should have performed,” Jaskier was saying. He tugged halfheartedly at the grip Geralt had on his hand, though he could not claim that he really minded the touch.

“You’re exhausted,” said Geralt. 

“I think that, as irritating as the innkeeper was, this town does not quite deserve your half-asleep caterwauling,” said Yennefer with a smirk as she came up behind them. 

“Hey! I’ll have you know that you two are the only ones who I grace with my half-asleep caterwauling. Everyone else gets only my performance voice or my drunk caterwauling. Sleepy Jaskier is a gift that only you two get to see.”

“We’re grateful,” said Geralt, “But you really should sleep. Without singing.”

“Just because I’m not a great and powerful magical being doesn’t mean I can’t handle a little fatigue, Geralt.”

“Yes, and acting like a child who doesn’t want to go to bed is such a good way to prove your strength,” said Yennefer.

“Excuse me,” Jaskier said as they approached their room, “I act only with the greatest of grace and—”

A mewling sound from the other side of the door cut off his words.

It was soft enough that Jaskier barely heard it, but the way Geralt froze and stared at the door was enough to assure him that he was not imagining anything. He blinked.

“What’s that?” he asked.

Yennefer was frowning. “I don’t know, but be careful.”

“Is it magical?”

“I don’t think so.”

“It doesn’t smell like a monster,” Geralt agreed.

“Who knows what the innkeeper put in there, though?” asked Yennefer. “It could be a trap.”

“Yes. Be careful.”

The three of them stood there for a moment, staring at the door. It occurred to Jaskier that they would likely look rather comical to an outside observer.

“Well? Are we going in?” he asked.

After a moment of hesitation, Yennefer stepped forward. Slowly, carefully, she opened the door and peeked inside the room. She was silent for a long moment.

“Well? Is it dangerous?” asked Jaskier.

“I’m… not sure,” said Yennefer. Geralt stepped forward with a frown to lean over Yennefer and peek in the room as well.

“What the fuck?” said Geralt.

Jaskier’s heart pounded. He tried to get a look inside the room, but it was effectively blocked by the bodies of his witcher and witch. He stood on his tiptoes. It was no good.

“What is it?” he asked again. “A trap? A monster? Please don’t tell me we have to find somewhere else to sleep. My feet are already killing me. Why aren’t you saying anything? Is it gruesome? Can I see?”

With an irritated glance at Jaskier, Geralt stepped back. A little shakily, Yennefer opened the door and entered the room. Jaskier shoved past her and saw, sitting directly in the center of the room’s only bed—

A tiny, fluffy, orange kitten.

Its head was almost comically oversized for its body. Its tail was neatly tucked around its paws. It was looking at them with an adorably bewildered expression, appearing rather like it had just been woken up from a nap. Jaskier thought it could probably have sat in one of Geralt’s hands with very little trouble.

Jaskier stared at it. It stared back.

Jaskier burst into uncontrolled, delighted laughter.

Yennefer shot him an irritated look. Geralt shuffled awkwardly behind him. This only served to make Jaskier laugh harder.

“A kitten!” he wheezed when he caught a breath between giggles. “You were so nervous— You paranoid bastards— I cannot believe— It’s just a tiny kitten!”

“It might be a trap,” Geralt protested weakly.

“You could probably eat it in a single bite if you wanted to, Geralt!”

“That’s morbid,” said Yennefer. She sounded amused.

“And you!” said Jaskier, wheeling around to face her. “You said you didn’t know if it was dangerous! Yennefer of Vengerburg, the most powerful and feared mage on the Continent, was unnerved by a tiny little cat!”

“I can strangle you, Pankratz.”

Jaskier was overtaken by another fit of giggles.

The kitten mewled again, this time sounding rather disgruntled. Jaskier whirled around to face it.

“Oh, you poor dear. Did we wake you up from your nap? What are you doing here, anyway? Where’s your family?”

“It’s a cat,” said Yennefer. “It can’t understand you.”

“Oh, I thought it was a terrifying supernatural being capable of destroying nations.”

“On second thought, maybe strangulation is too good for you.”

Ignoring her, Jaskier approached the bed. Slowly, he held out his hand towards the kitten. It sniffed his fingers then mewled again. Gently, Jaskier stroked its head with a finger. Its eyes went wide. For a moment, Jaskier thought he had gone too far, but then the kitten pushed up into the touch. Jaskier’s heart positively melted. He kept stroking its head, unable to help the grin that spread across his face.

Behind him, he heard Geralt slowly sidle into the room. The kitten did not react.

“Are you sure it’s a real cat?” Geralt asked Yennefer. Jaskier glanced back to see him staring at the kitten, almost transfixed. “Cats don’t like witchers.”

“I don’t feel any magic,” Yennefer admitted.

“It’s kind of hard to be afraid of someone who’s halfway across the room and looking like a frightened pigeon, even if you’re a cat,” said Jaskier.

Geralt scowled and ignored him. “It can’t stay on the bed forever. We need to sleep there.”

“That is an issue,” said Jaskier thoughtfully. He turned to the kitten. “What are we going to do with you, hmm?”

“Again, it can’t understand you,” said Yennefer.

“Ignore them,” Jaskier told the kitten. “They do not understand the concept of whimsy.”

Slowly, Jaskier shifted so he was sitting on the bed beside the kitten. It did not seem overly bothered by the change. Jaskier moved to stroke its back. It looked content. Very gently, Jaskier brought a hand under its ribcage and picked it up, moving his other hand to support its hind legs and then cradling it against his chest. It mewled confusedly and squirmed a little, looking up at him, but he kept stroking it and it settled within a few moments.

He could feel its tiny chest rise and fall against his hands as it breathed. Its fur was slightly matted in places and it could probably have used a bath, but at that moment, Jaskier could not have imagined something softer or more pleasant to touch. It closed its eyes. Jaskier felt his heart melt a little more at the trust it was showing him.

He glanced up at Geralt and Yennefer to see them still on the other side of the room, looking at him with something that looked startlingly like awe.

“You can come over here,” he said instead of giving in to the flustered feelings trying to overwhelm him. “No need to cower.”

“I don’t want to scare it,” said Geralt, and Jaskier’s heart broke a little.

“You won’t scare him,” he said.

“Him?” asked Yennefer, raising an eyebrow.

Jaskier shrugged. “I’ve decided it’s a he. Orange cats usually are, I think.”

“How do you know I won’t scare him?” asked Geralt, returning them to the original topic.

“He can probably smell you perfectly well from here. If he was going to be scared, he already would be.”

Geralt hesitated. “I don’t know how to act around cats.”

“That’s okay. I’ll show you.” When Geralt still hesitated, Jaskier looked to Yennefer. “Come on. What are you waiting for?”

Yennefer frowned at him. “I’m not scared. I just don’t want to get fleas.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you can magic away fleas as easily as blinking. Get over here.”

After a quickly-hidden second of trepidation, Yennefer stepped forward. She looked at the kitten. The kitten, after a moment, looked at her.

“Mew?” he said.

Yennefer looked back at Jaskier, seeming uncharacteristically uncertain. Jaskier had to hold back a laugh.

“Come on,” he said. “Pet him.”

Slowly, Yennefer reached out to stroke a hand over his head. He blinked up at her, rather bemused.

“Keep going,” Jaskier said encouragingly.

Yennefer continued to stroke the kitten, first his head and then his back. Within a few moments, he settled and closed his eyes. He looked very content. Yennefer stared down at him with shock and a tiny bit of delight.

Jaskier decided that it was time for her to ascend to the next level.

“Here,” he said, and handed the kitten to her.

Jaskier had seen Yennefer achieve feats of unimaginable bravery. He had seen her fight her worst fears with determination, seen her battle hordes of monsters that might have made even the most skilled of witchers hesitate, seen her face down armies without flinching. Yennefer was brave. She was powerful. She was, in a word, incredible.

She was also looking down at the kitten he had just placed in her hands with an expression that could only be described as terror.

“I don’t know how—” she started to say, then cut herself off with a panicked gasp when she had to fumble with the squirming kitten to keep him from falling. He mewled indignantly.

“It’s okay,” said Jaskier, reaching forward to help. “I’ll show you. Here, you put your hand where it’ll support his weight, under the ribcage is good. Yes, just like that. Now you— yes! You’ve got it.”

Yennefer ended up sitting on the bed beside Jaskier, carefully cradling the kitten to her chest with both hands. The kitten was rather disgruntled by the whole affair, at first, but when Jaskier gently encouraged Yennefer to free a hand and continue stroking him, he settled down. He snuggled into Yennefer’s arm. After a few moments, his eyes slipped closed.

Yennefer’s eyes widened. She swallowed.

“Is he sleeping?” she asked hesitantly, her voice so soft it was almost a whisper.

“Yeah,” said Jaskier, feeling a grin spread across his face. “He’s taking a nap.”

“Oh,” she said softly.

She sat there for a long moment, quietly stroking the kitten. She seemed unable to tear her gaze away from the tiny, fluffy body in her arms. Jaskier found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her. She pet the kitten so gently that it was almost painful to watch, care and tenderness written into her every movement. Her expression could only be described as awe. In that moment, Jaskier was unable to think of anything that could possibly be more beautiful.

After a few long minutes, she looked up. Geralt was still standing against the far wall of the room, watching the little group on the bed with what appeared to be a mixture of fondness and longing. Yennefer took one look at his expression and sighed.

“Get over here,” she said. Jaskier nodded. Geralt, after a moment’s hesitation, obeyed.

His approach was slow and silent. When he came within a few paces, the kitten stirred, looking up at him with his ears slightly flattened. Geralt froze. Jaskier hushed him and scratched him under the chin, while Yennefer kept her hand resting on its back. That seemed to do the trick. The kitten settled back down into Yennefer’s arms. Jaskier gestured Geralt closer, and at his behest, the witcher sat down cautiously on Yennefer’s other side.

The kitten was still awake and watching Geralt with a little bit of wariness, but he did not seem overly bothered by the witcher’s presence. Jaskier internally cheered.

“You can pet him,” he whispered to Geralt.

“I don’t want to scare him,” Geralt said again.

“You won’t. Yennefer and I will help.”

A little bit of Yennefer’s uncertainty returned. “I can try, but—”

Jaskier waved her off. “Nonsense. He already likes you. Go ahead, Geralt.”

Geralt hesitated. “But—”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “You can make fun of me if I’m wrong. I take responsibility for any and all kitten-related disasters. Go ahead.”

Geralt huffed, amused. Jaskier hid his smile by looking down at the kitten.

Slowly, Geralt crouched down so his head was more or less level with the kitten. He swallowed, reached out, and gently ran his head down the kitten’s neck and back.

“Mew?” said the kitten. He looked up at Geralt. He blinked.

“Keep going,” said Jaskier softly.

Geralt stroked the kitten again. When he did not panic or run away, Geralt did it again.

“He’s soft,” he whispered, entranced.

“Yeah,” said Yennefer, her voice equally quiet.

They both stared down at the kitten, who was content in Yennefer’s arms as Geralt stroked him. The kitten looked very small and helpless beneath Geralt’s big hands, but did not seem particularly bothered by that fact. Jaskier felt himself growing a little teary-eyed at the sight.

“Do you want to hold him?” Yennefer asked after a few moments.

Geralt’s eyes went wide. He glanced at Jaskier, nervous. “Do you think I can?”

“I do,” said Jaskier. “He already likes you, see?”

He gestured at the kitten, who was meowing in quiet protest at the fact that Geralt was no longer petting him. Geralt looked back at him. His face softened.

“I suppose,” he said. He looked up at Yennefer, then back at Jaskier. “Will you help me?”

Yennefer nodded.

“Of course,” said Jaskier. “Here, Yen, you can hand him to Geralt just like how you picked him up. Just support his weight— yeah, there you go. Geralt, you do the same thing.”

After a few moments of fumbling and a few disgruntled mewls from the kitten, Yennefer managed to deposit him in Geralt’s hands. Jaskier had been correct; he could have sat on just one of Geralt’s hands without too much trouble. Geralt was carefully cupping him with both of his anyway. The sight made Jaskier struggle not to dissolve into an unhelpful puddle of affection.

“What now?” asked Geralt, sounding almost as nervous as he had when Ciri first asked him to help her with her hair.

“You can put him in your lap, if you want,” said Jaskier. “You might want to get comfortable, though. Cats don’t always like to move once they have a nice person to sit on.”

After glancing at the bed consideringly, Yennefer crawled up to lean against the rather rickety headboard and patted the spot beside her. “Come on. I think we can all fit.”

Jaskier scooted up to sit near her, leaving space for Geralt between them. Geralt glanced up at them, then down at the kitten in his hands. The kitten had started to nibble on one of his fingers. After a moment of consideration, Geralt cautiously got to his knees on the bed and hobbled over to them, being careful to keep the kitten from being jostled. He settled in between Jaskier and Yennefer and set the kitten gently in his lap. The kitten flailed a little at the new position, but it took only a few moments for him to settle on one of Geralt’s thighs.

“Keep petting him,” Jaskier said encouragingly.

Geralt obeyed. On his other side, Jaskier saw Yennefer resting her head on Geralt’s shoulder and looking down at the kitten. For several moments, the three of them sat in content silence. Then—

“It’s vibrating,” said Geralt, sounding adorably terrified.

“Oh!” said Jaskier, delighted. Now that he was paying attention, he could hear the faintest of rumbling sounds from the kitten. “He’s purring, Geralt. That means he feels safe and content. He’s happy.”

“Oh,” said Geralt. His voice was filled with awe.

“We made him do that?” asked Yennefer. She spoke softly, as though trying not to interrupt the kitten’s purrs.

“Yeah,” said Jaskier, matching her tone, “We did.”

Yennefer smiled. It was not an expression of triumph or of power, not assured or sarcastic. It was not the smile she liked to show to the world. It was small and soft, tender and a little uncertain. It was directed at a small ball of orange fluff lounging in a witcher’s lap. Jaskier knew at that moment that no song he could write would come close to describing her beauty.

“I wonder where his family is,” Yennefer mused after a long few moments of content silence. “He can’t have gotten here all by himself, can he?”

“We can ask the innkeeper tomorrow,” said Jaskier. “Looks like he’s alone at the moment, though.”

“He isn’t,” said Geralt.

Jaskier blinked. “Please don’t tell me there are more cats hiding under the bed and you didn’t tell us, Geralt.”

“No.” Geralt looked rather embarrassed. “I just meant… we’re here. So he isn’t alone.”

Jaskier gave the kitten a thoughtful look. “I suppose that’s true.”

Yennefer looked back and forth between Jaskier. A small frown appeared on her face.

“He might have a family,” she said. “You can’t just take him.”

“I wasn’t going to!” Jaskier protested. “I just think he can stay with us tonight, is all.”

Yennefer looked at him skeptically. “That’s what you said when we found you trying to hide a baby griffin in your backpack.”

“That was one time—”

“It was extremely memorable and also idiotic. I am not letting you live it down anytime soon.”

Geralt casually removed one hand from the kitten to cover Jaskier’s mouth, muffling his indignant response and reducing his words to spluttering. Yennefer giggled at the sight, and Jaskier felt the fight drain out of him at the sound. Sensing his surrender, Geralt removed his hand and started to pet the kitten again before it could stop purring.

“The griffin thing was stupid, but this isn’t a griffin,” Geralt said diplomatically. “I think he can stay the night if he wants to.”

Yennefer subsided. “I don’t see why not.”

The kitten mewled a little. The three of them glanced down to see him resettling himself on Geralt’s legs, apparently having decided that he could make himself more comfortable than he already had.

“We’re going to have to move him eventually,” said Yennefer reluctantly. “We need to sleep somehow.”

Jaskier considered that for a few moments. “Maybe we can put him on one of the pillows. As long as no one rolls over in their sleep, he should be all right.”

Geralt looked doubtfully at the bed. The three them of sitting side by side were already rather squished.

Jaskier rolled his eyes in Geralt’s direction. “I don’t see you offering any better ideas.”

“I think we can make it work,” said Yennefer. “We’ve slept in smaller places.”

“All right,” said Geralt.

“I suppose we should lie down, then,” said Jaskier. Though he was reluctant to break the moment, he was still sleepy and knew that they needed to rest if they wanted to get anything done the next day.

After a few moments of shuffling and some rather disgruntled sounds from the kitten, they managed to get settled in a way that was comfortable for everyone. Geralt was on his side with an arm thrown over Jaskier’s waist. Jaskier was on his back so that Yennefer could lie half on top of him in the way she sometimes preferred. The kitten was curled up on a pillow behind Yennefer’s head. Jaskier’s arm was around Yennefer’s shoulders to keep her from rolling over in the night and crushing the kitten. 

Yennefer was warm and heavy on top of Jaskier. Geralt’s breathing was slow against his side. Jaskier drifted off within moments, feeling safe, loved, and content.

  ~

  The next morning, Jaskier was awakened by tiny and very sharp claws kneading directly on his bladder.

He yelped and flailed, trying to sit up. He was not very successful. This was mostly due to the fact that his right arm was trapped under a warm body and there was a thigh pinning his legs down. The kneading continued. Jaskier squirmed again, more frantically. He tried to free his arm to remove the pressure on his bladder, but—

Yennefer yelped as she went tumbling off the bed and thumped onto the floor.

Geralt sat up like a shot, looking around frantically and reaching for a sword on his back that was not there. Jaskier, now free, wasted no time in sitting up and gently but firmly removing the kitten from his person.

Geralt glanced between Jaskier, the kitten, and Yennefer, who had managed to sit up enough for her head to poke up above the edge of bed.

“...What?” asked Geralt weakly.

“Yeah, Jaskier, what the fuck?” asked Yennefer.

She clambered back onto the bed, giving Jaskier her most ferocious glare. The effect was slightly ruined by her spectacular bedhead.

Jaskier gestured emphatically with the kitten in his hands. “This fucker was poking me!”

Geralt frowned. “Why did that mean Yen had to fall out of the bed?”

“She was trapping my arm. I was desperate. Sorry, Yen.”

Yennefer glared at him. “I could turn you into a toad.”

“Listen, if I hadn’t removed him from my bladder we would have had a much worse situation on our hands.”

Yennefer looked at Jaskier’s apologetic face. She looked at Geralt’s expression of confusion and fond exasperation. She looked at the kitten, who looked distinctly unrepentant.

Unable to help herself, she dissolved into giggles. Jaskier was rather alarmed for a moment — had she just come up with a magnificent punishment for him? His face must have done something interesting, because Yennefer looked at him and started to laugh even harder. Behind Jaskier, Geralt chuckled a little as well.

“How did he even get to your stomach?” he asked. “He would have had to crawl over Yen’s head without waking her.”

Jaskier looked thoughtfully at the kitten. “He’s a master of stealth, I suppose.”

That sent Yennefer off into another round of laughter. Jaskier found himself unable to keep from joining her with his own helpless giggles.

Geralt looked between the two of them and shook his head fondly.

“I’m going to get us breakfast,” he said, leaving them to their merriment.

Jaskier and Yennefer had caught their breath and mostly regained their composure by the time Geralt returned with some food. Yennefer had the kitten in her lap and was petting him absently. He looked very happy with himself.

“I asked the innkeeper about him,” said Geralt, gesturing to the kitten with the hand that was not carrying their food. “She says he’s been hanging around the inn for a week or so, being fed scraps by the guests. No sign of any family, but he seems to be doing well enough. He’s healthy.”

“Is the innkeeper fine with him being here?” asked Yennefer.

“She doesn’t mind him as long as the guests are happy and he keeps some mice away, but she’s had some complaints about him sleeping on beds. She might have to find a way to get rid of him if he doesn’t stop.”

Jaskier looked down at the kitten, pensive. “I hope she doesn’t have to. It would be a shame to keep him away from people if he likes them.”

Yennefer patted Jaskier’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll be all right.”

Yennefer reached for the bread that Geralt was carrying and began to eat. Geralt passed another portion to Jaskier. The three of them munched their food contemplatively, looking at the kitten.

“I feel like we should name him,” mused Jaskier. “Calling him ‘the kitten’ in my head is starting to get weird. I need something to shout when I’m reprimanding him.”

“What do you want to call him, then?” asked Yennefer.

“I don’t know! What do you think?”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, the silence only broken by the kitten’s purrs.

“Well,” said Geralt when no one offered any ideas, “There’s always Ro—“

“No!” shouted Jaskier and Yennefer simultaneously.

Yennefer smacked Geralt’s shoulder. “Not Roach. You can name all the horses you want, but I draw the line at cats.”

Jaskier nodded. “We can think of something better. I believe in us.”

Geralt subsided with a huff. There was another moment of thoughtful silence.

“Cirilla the Second?” suggested Yennefer.

Jaskier flopped back down onto the bed, buried his face in a pillow, and groaned loudly. “I loathe you both.”

“I don’t see you having any better ideas,” Yennefer protested. Jaskier groaned again and rolled onto his back.

“What have I done to deserve this?” he asked the ceiling.

“Is that an insult or a compliment?” asked Yennefer with a smirk.

“It can be both.”

“I’m not so sure. That would require complicated things like nuance and finesse. I am not sure a bard of your caliber could keep up. Perhaps we need someone more practiced, for instance Vald—”

“How about Mackerel?” Geralt said loudly and rather desperately, cutting Yennefer off before disaster could strike.

Jaskier and Yennefer both fell silent. They looked at Geralt. They looked at the kitten. They looked back at Geralt.

“Is your entire repertoire of names made up of fish?” asked Yennefer, and Jaskier burst into laughter.

Geralt looked on with some disgruntlement as Jaskier’s guffaws slowly faded into giggles.

“What?” he asked. “It’s a decent name.”

Yennefer rolled her eyes. “Retrospectively, I’m grateful you didn’t go back to claim Ciri when she was young. The poor girl would have ended up saddled with the name Perch.”

“You are an idiot,” said Jaskier to Geralt. “An utter and complete moron. I love you.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said, flustered.

“Do you have any better names, Jaskier?” asked Yennefer.

“Absolutely not. Mackerel is hilarious. We’re keeping it.”

Yennefer sighed but failed to hide her smile. “Oh, fine.”

They finished their breakfast in companionable silence. When they were finished, they sat on the bed for a while longer. It was comfortable, after all, and they were in no particular hurry. Jaskier determinedly did not think about any other reasons he might have for not wanting to leave the inn.

“We can’t stay here forever,” Geralt said eventually, reluctant.

Yennefer sighed. “Yeah, we’ll have to get going if we want to meet Ciri and Geralt’s idiot brothers in time.”

Jaskier hauled himself to his feet.

“Let’s get to it, then!” he said with false cheer.

With practiced ease, they packed up their things. They were ready to leave within minutes.

They did not leave.

The three of them dithered in the room. Geralt gazed out the window. Yennefer checked corners for anything they might have somehow lost. Jaskier fidgeted with his notebook.

“Well,” said Yennefer, “I suppose it’s time to go.”

She went to stand in the doorway. Geralt and Jaskier joined her.

None of them moved.

They looked back at the kitten, who was once again on the bed. Mackerel looked back at them. He meowed.

Yennefer heaved a deep, longsuffering sigh. “We’re taking him with us, aren’t we?”

Geralt sighed. “We might.”

Jaskier whooped so loudly that it startled Mackerel. He darted back to the bed and scooped the kitten up in his arms. Mackerel mewled in complaint.

Jaskier stroked his head in apology. “Sorry for startling you, darling, but you’ll be much happier about it soon. You’re coming with us! You’ll get to see the continent. You’ll get to experience all sorts of varied and delightful table scraps. It’ll be lovely.”

Across the room, Jaskier heard Yennefer trying to stifle a laugh. He ignored her.

“You’ll get to meet so many people,” he said to Mackerel. “You’ll get to explore the world. You can meet our family, too—”

Jaskier cut himself off with a gasp and turned to Geralt and Yennefer, his eyes shining. “Ciri is going to love him!”

“Oh,” said Yennefer with a grin. “Oh, she really will. This is going to be great.”

Jaskier nodded enthusiastically. “This is going to be the best decision we’ve ever made, I can feel it.”

“What do kittens eat?” Geralt asked reasonably, looking rather exasperated at their antics. “We can’t just let him starve.”

“We’ll figure it out,” said Jaskier. “He can’t be that hard to feed.”

Yennefer nodded. “He’s been living off scraps and what he can catch so far. I’m sure he’ll be all right.”

“It’ll be dangerous on the path,” said Geralt.

Jaskier scoffed. “Mackerel is a smart cat. He can take care of himself.”

Geralt looked as though he might protest again, but at that moment, Mackerel meowed. Geralt looked down at the tiny ball of fur in Jaskier’s arms. Jaskier saw the exact moment Geralt’s last arguments drained away in the face of the adorable creature in front of him.

“I suppose he can come,” said Geralt with a sigh.

Jaskier whooped again. Mackerel meowed. Yennefer laughed. Geralt, seemingly despite himself, smiled.

The three of them shouldered their packs, Jaskier passing Mackerel to Geralt to free his hands. They left their room. On their way out of the inn, Yennefer stopped to let the innkeeper know they were taking Mackerel while Geralt retrieved Roach from the stables. The innkeeper seemed happy enough with the idea and waved at them with a smile as they left. 

They set off on the Path, with Geralt leading Roach and Yennefer and Jaskier walking beside him. It was just like any other day in the last week — except this time, there was a tiny orange head poking out of one of Roach’s saddlebags, and Yennefer was having a hard time suppressing a smile. Even Geralt looked visibly content. 

Jaskier’s lovers were happy. They had, somehow, despite everything, adopted a cat. Despite Yennefer and Geralt’s persistent issues with attachment and commitment, they had agreed to take a kitten with them on their travels for no reason other than sentiment and sympathy. Jaskier was so very proud of them. 

Stopping at that inn was the best decision they ever made. 

[mydearestdrabbles]

bring your stuffies and your smiles to work

a cglre story | bsd | cg + reader | doppo kunikida | pet names | co-working

doppo kunikida may be known as an idealist, short-tempered, by-the-book kind of guy but to you,, to you he was doppo, he was papa, he was home.

on this particularly grey yokohama weekday you found yourself in a place too big in a mindset far too small… so as you clung to every last ounce of your big headspace you navigated yourself straight towards the agency building.

the door opened louder then you’d liked and you’d managed to depart with your big headspace as soon as you saw him your partner,, your caregiver as he looked away from his work and towards the door.

it took everything in you not to run towards his desk, but that didn’t stop you from keeping up with a little skip- finally arriving at his desk you couldn’t help but fidget, almost forgetting to flash the signal you’d both agreed upon to signify you’d regressed.

kunikida’s gaze softened as he saw you, paying close a mind to your hands waiting patiently for the signal- upon its display he made eye contact with you saying

“hi my sweet thing, i’m so happy to see you!” he said softly using one of your pet names he knew would help you slip. “can you tell papa what brings you here angel?”

you shook your head, face getting hot and tears threatening to trickle within the second- but before they could doppo was scribbling something in his notebook and showing it to you.

it was a pacifier, the same ruby red as his ribbon.

graciously you accepted it, the comfort of the object subsiding the overwhelm that had come from his question.

doppo glanced between you and his desk when he proposed another question, this time even softer and gentle than the last.

“did you bring any of your little things with you love?” he asked as he began opening one of the drawers in his desk.

you shook your head, when you’d left for the agency it was too much to grab anything more then your headphones and stuffie, you showed him the items that had been tucked beneath your arm as his desk drawer revealed that would be more than enough.

a series of small fidgets, art supplies, picture and coloring books were all neatly organized with handwritten labels relating to their purpose or the people in the agency whom certain items belonged.

doppo gestured toward the drawer saying patiently “why don’t you pick out a thing or two to keep you busy while papa finishes up his paperwork,, does that sound alright love?”

you nod, though it’s not his undivided attention you’ll still be in his company, and it’s hard to resist a good coloring session.

doppo smiles as you walk to the other side of his desk and take a seat, carefully laying out the various items you’ll be using for todays masterpiece as your caregiver returns to work.

time passes quickly with periodic check-ins and doppo’s occasional “you’re doing such a good job little one!” and “i’m so proud of you angel” easing you through headspace.

before you know it doppo has shut his computer and is stretching his hand towards you. the sun making the agency floor almost glow- the two of you are the only ones still working.

“thank you love for waiting for me” he began “i know it took a while and you were so well behaved for me… shall we go home little one? i think there are some warm blankets waiting for us.”

and with that, you took his hand and began for the exit smiling behind the pacifier he’d gifted you- today was a good day.

[pshcomforts]

➳ spring snow | psh.

bestfriend!sunghoon x fem!reader

“cause i’m falling slowly in love with you”

synopsis: you came down with a cold and your best friend, sunghoon, has offered to take care of you.

warnings/content: written in third pov. fluffy fluff! tiny bit of angst. best friends to lovers. a little bit of idiots in love. nicknames like ‘idiot’ ‘dummy’ and ‘loser’ used. down bad sunghoon <3

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 4.6k

a/n: self-indulgent bc i’m sick right now, and currently obsessed with lovely runner </3

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: spring snow by 10cm

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

0:39 ───|──────────────── 2:42

a cough erupted out of y/n as she fought for her life. her nose was stuffy, and her throat was aching from the cold she randomly caught.

she heavily sighed, cursing to herself for missing an important lecture.

“i should’ve gone..,” she softly whimpered.

as she fumed a little longer, a sudden notification had caught her attention.

sunghoon <3:

Where are you?

Are you running late?

panic spread across her face when she read her best friends texts, quickly typing back with quiet coughs leaving her throat.

y/n:

sorry, hoon! i’m actually not feeling good so i decided to skip the lecture for today…

sunghoon <3:

Are you lying, or are you really sick?

y/n:

why would i lie to you about this..

sunghoon <3:

So you don’t have to hear my scolding? 😒

y/n:

i swear, sunghoon, i’m sick! do you want me to send an audio of me coughing or something..

sunghoon <3:

.. No

the girl breathed out a laugh once she found no more texts from him. she widely grinned as she thought about the handsome boy, easily imagining his displeased look in her head.

her heart fluttered and butterflies erupted in her stomach. she fisted her hands to stop the sensations forming around her body as she shook it off.

“stop it, y/n, he’s just a friend.” she murmured to herself, unable to make the imaginary hoon in her head disappear.

“this cold is really getting to me…,”

y/n huffed out a sigh before wrapping herself in her warm blankets.

“maybe a nap will do..,” her voice squeaked, body already falling on borderline exhaustion. she yawned out a little more before resting her eyes and eventually knocking out.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

about a half hour had just passed and the girl was still sound asleep when a few knocks had been heard at the door.

she grumbled out a sigh before checking the time.

“who’d even be here at this time?” she sighed, still finding the sun brightly beaming down on every view she could find.

the knocks had been heard again and she quickly checked to see if anything could be related to whatever was outside. indeed, she found a few missed texts from her beloved friend.

sunghoon <3:

Open the door

Are you asleep??

Hello..?

she exhaled a breath as her stomach flooded with nervous bubbles.

“why is he here..?” she muttered under her breath.

the girl dusted herself, and though she was sure she still looked like a train wreck, she couldn’t be too bothered with how much her sickness took over.

she slowly cracked the door open and found an adorable sunghoon patiently waiting.

“finally!” he shouted. “took you long enough, i was almost gonna call you.”

maybe not that patient.

y/n scrunched her brows in confusion. “why are you even here, hoon?”

his heart slightly dropped at her questioning, but he only nervously laughed it away.

“you’re sick, dummy. you need to be taken care of.” sunghoon murmured, pinching one side of her cheeks.

she quickly swatted the hand away as she still remained puzzled.

“you’re gonna take care of me?” her voice mumbled, causing him to shyly nod. “but you never do this..?”

hoon only sighed as he joked, “well do you want me to leave? because i still can.”

“no, no.. i’m just a little shocked right now.”

y/n’s heart was about to burst. he was fueling her delusions about the potential thought of them being together, and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

she heard him give a chuckle when he set his backpack down. “i care about you, y/n. are you that shocked?” his simple grin sent heart throbs, making her tired body tingle even more.

“well you always tease and make fun of me so.. yeah, i’m shocked.”

the girl sniffed away her snot that ran down from her cold as he laughed again.

“don’t be too surprised that i’m a caring person.” sunghoon uttered, shaking his head while hiding his huge smile away. “i’m usually nice to you anyway.”

y/n guffawed out a scoff, sending a soft smack towards his arm as she muttered, “yeah right! you weren’t nice when i asked for the lecture notes 40 minutes ago, and you said no!”

the male giggled as he thought back to their texts, heart melting at his friends stuffy voice. “well who told you to stay home? that lecture was really important!” he teased back, lips instantly curling at her gasp and eye roll.

“if you’re just here to bicker with me then please leave, hoon. i’m too sick to argue.” she huffed, shaking her head.

“okay, okay, fine, i’m sorry.” he slightly pouted, causing her to softly smile. “i really am here to take care of you though.”

sunghoon ruffled her hair, letting it run messy everywhere as his eyes twinkled in the scene of his friend struggling to leave his teasing act. his lips coiled again, unable to hide his facial expressions with how much he adored her.

“sunghoon!” the girl yelled, pushing his hand away.

his heart pounded at the sound of his name leaving her lips, making him stop the ruffles.

“your friend is sick and you’re really doing this to her!”

hoon chuckled at her words before the word — ‘friend’ — hit him. his heart stung a little and he retracted himself back, officially putting a stop to all of the teasings as y/n still huffed with hair pieces around her face.

“can i go back to sleep now?” she mumbled, throat immediately running dry.

sunghoon clicked his tongue, shaking his head while replying, “what’s the point of me being here if you’re just gonna sleep?”

“you volunteered to be here!”

“exactly, which is why you need to stay out here while i reheat my moms soup for you!”

the girl wore a frown, but her stomach betrayed her when it rumbled at the mention of food, causing her friend to chortle out a laugh.

“see? your stomach wants me to stay.”

he wore a shit eating grin, making y/n playfully roll her eyes and nudge him. “now go stay on the couch, i’ll reheat it up for you.” he sweetly muttered like a boyfriend.

her heart instantly raced and a few coughs suddenly bursted from her as the thought of him being a well-mannered boyfriend flooded her mind.

“get a hold of yourself, idiot.” she said under her breath.

“did you say something??”

her head whipped up at sunghoon and she quickly shook her head. “no! um.. just don’t burn my kitchen down… please.. i know you suck at cooking.”

he scoffed out a ridiculed laugh. “it’s just reheating soup, how bad can that get?”

bad, because within seconds, the boy let the pot heat up on the stove too long, making the cold soup instantly smoke up when he added it in.

the alarms rang off the hook and y/n’s ears rang like crazy; and if that wasn’t enough, sunghoons deep voice screaming at the steam was the cherry on top.

“sunghoon!!” she shouted, giving a faint scold as she fanned beneath her smoke detectors.

his cheeks flushed and his ears instantly became red while he stood in the kitchen like a six year old getting yelled at.

“sorry…,” his soft voice murmured, feeling self-conscious with the way he embarrassed himself in front of his friend.

“i didn’t know there was a time limit with how long the pot had to heat up…,”

y/n huffed out a sigh, instantly dropping her slight annoyance when she came face to face with the boy who was softly pouting. a laugh escaped from her and she only shook her head.

“you’re an idiot, you know that?” she joked, causing a faint grin to be placed on him. “of course it’s gonna smoke when you leave it on high heat for 10 minutes.”

“stop it, y/n… i’m embarrassed, you don’t have to acknowledge what i did wrong.” sunghoon covered his face with his hands, blocking off every facial feature but his ears that were still brightly colored red.

the girl chuckled, grin widening as her sickness almost left her when he remained shy in his actions.

“i don’t know if i should trust you in my kitchen ever again..,”

hoon rolled his eyes and smiled. “okay, it wasn’t even that bad!”

“you literally set off my smoke alarms!”

“okay.. but nothing caught on fire!”

y/n shook her head, hearty coughs still leaving her throat as she heaved her chest up and down.

“you were supposed to take care of me, but stressed me out instead!”

he seethed air through his teeth in guilt, head low while he chewed on his lips. “sorry…,” the male muttered. “i swear i was trying so hard not to do anything that’d make you get up!”

she laughed at his words and replied, “that’s sweet of you, hoon, but you did.”

“i know…, i’m still embarrassed.”

he placed his hands over his face once more, but peeked his eyes through separated fingers to catch her reaction. y/n wore a huge smile, eyes creasing into half moon crescents that caused butterflies to flutter in his stomach.

he softened his gaze once he felt it and they instantly twinkled with a deep warmth that was only for her.

the remaining words that spewed out of the girl had quickly been deafened as he continued to stare at her, making her snap at him — “sunghoon?? did you even hear me?”

“oh.. um… yes!” he tried to cheese a grin, but she obviously wasn’t convinced.

“and what did i say..?”

“something about… your cold being worse..?”

he pressed his lips into a firm line, forming a bread smile as her tongue clicked in disappointment.

“you weren’t listening.., what’s even distracting you?”

her, but he couldn’t say that.

y/n folded her arms while she awaited for an answer, making him gulp.

first, he invited himself inside. second, he almost burned down her kitchen. and now, he wasn’t even processing whatever she had to say.

“um..,” he swallowed down a lump in his throat, trying to find whatever could be distracting. “your snot, y/n! it’s uh.. dripping! yeah, that!”

the girl felt her heart drop and she immediately ran around to find tissues. what dumb luck did hoon have that she actually was dripping with snot?

he breathed out a sigh of relief, hand clenching onto his chest with how close he was to getting caught.

y/n quickly came back, cheeks slightly tinted pink. “back to what i was saying… how about i just heat up the soup myself?” she suggested, causing him to widen his eyes and shake his head.

“no, you’re sick. i can’t have you walking around when you should be resting.”

her brows scrunched and her head slightly tilted as a soft laugh escaped from her. “hoon.. you literally made me run around my apartment to stop the alarms…,”

sunghoon thought back to her constant feet pattering he heard not too long ago, and sighed. “anymore. i won’t have you walking around anymore,” he firmly corrected himself.

she took a sigh as well, finally falling to defeat as he proudly pushed her toward her couch.

“don’t stress about it.., soup will be in your much-needed tummy soon!”

y/n couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at his words, but eventually let him continue with how eager he was to do something so sweet.

with the man in the kitchen, she felt her pupils dilate whenever she laid her eyes on him, heart almost jumping out of her throat with how quick it was beating.

sunghoon was instantly looking like a boyfriend to her, and she couldn’t fight those thoughts anymore — his tall figure, the oversized hoodie perfectly fitting him, his pretty face gleaming at the bubbling pot.

of course, he did almost burn down her kitchen, but he was redeeming himself right now.

the girl was almost soaring with how much she was falling for him. though she was still fighting for her life, sunghoon being there for her was already making her feel better — even if he stressed her out for a second.

but she swiftly shook it off once the friend had turned around with a proud look spread across his face.

“it’s done! this soup will instantly make you feel better when you eat it.” he murmured, lips still curling at his final success attempt of reheating his moms soup.

y/n softly reflected his grin back as she sat across from him. “your mom’s the best, hoon!” she quickly dug in, heart melting and tummy warming at the soothing broth.

sunghoon tried to hide away his obvious beam but couldn’t help it. his eyes were glistening, his fangs were flashing, and his mind was going crazy with the girl he liked in front of her.

was this how it’d always be if she got sick, and he’d offer to take care of her? (yes)

his heart swelled with the possible future in his hands as the girl continued to eat.

“you don’t want to eat any?” she murmured, but he fully shook his head and pushed the bowl further to her — “it’s all yours, loser. my mom packed it specifically for you.”

she quietly coughed at the sudden nickname, scowling back a look while he only chuckled.

“you didn’t think i’d grow a soft spot for you just because you got sick, did you?” he teased mercilessly.

y/n playfully rolled her eyes before going back to chomping. typical sunghoon. one minute he was sweet, the next he was just a guy who loved to tease a little too much.

he continued to wear a huge grin though as she munched, making the girl fully unaware of how much love he held in his eyes.

once her stomach was full, hoon forced her to sit on the couch with a blanket wrapped around while he cleaned the dishes.

the feeling of him taking care of her was strange, but she liked it. it was something she could get use to if he liked her back (idiot).

when sunghoon finished, he plopped directly next to her on the couch with an idiotic grin, eyes full of hearts and stomach bubbled from feeling nervous.

“um, sunghoon?” y/n poked. “shouldn’t you sit a little further away? i can get you sick.”

he scoffed and laughed as if she told the funniest joke ever. “if i didn’t want to risk getting sick, i wouldn’t have chosen to come over… dummy.” he chuckled at the name he gave her while rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

“do you want me to move?”

her face instantly flushed with a hue of pink and she subtly tried to turn away from it. “no.. you can stay if you want.”

“do you want me to stay?”

sunghoon’s heart quickly thumped with every surge of confidence he got from her shy reactions.

his eyes flickered at her turned head, tilting his own in confusion before muttering, “are you that sick that you can’t look at me?”

“i can! my throat’s just.. itchy so i don’t want to cough in your face,” she tried to shoot back.

he huffed out a slight laugh at her lame attempt of an excuse. “is it that hard to stare at my handsome face?” he asked, knowing that she’d face him right after.

“what!” y/n’s hoarse voice spoke. “i can!”

she quickly laid her eyes back onto him and almost instantly, the two felt their hearts explode with fireworks.

sunghoon took a noticeably large gulp, blinking repeatedly with how quick their nose tips touched. she was much closer than she should’ve been, and the boy was flustered.

“y/n.. you’re um…,” he swallowed another lump, adams apple bobbing as every butterfly in his stomach multiplied.

“see! i can look at you!” she yelled, honestly unaware of how flushed her friend was becoming.

“yeah, you win.” he replied, nudging her forehead away before she could hear his loud heartbeats.

hoon held onto his chest, trying to calm his nerves when y/n only clicked her tongue.

“tried to challenge me but lost instead.. idiot.” she mumbled to herself, giving crunchy coughs afterward.

a grin plastered onto his face after her words processed. “yeah.. i lost” — but he didn’t, because he felt like a winner with how close her nose tip accidentally grazed over his.

he bit his bottom lip to hide away another smile as he muttered, “i think it’s time for you to take some medicine.”

y/n’s face scrunched in disgust. “i know i’m sick, but i hate taking cough syrup.”

“well you need it because you’re coughing like you’re on your death bed.”

an audible gasp was heard from her and she quickly smacked his arm. “sunghoon!” she yelled, earning a laugh from him.

“i’m just stating the obvious!”

he flashed a heart-throbbing grin and she almost melted at it, vision quick to lose sight with how alarmingly charming it was.

“you didn’t need to say that..,” she scowled.

his fangs were still brightly shown as he murmured, “come on, just take the medicine. it’ll benefit you.”

his hands offered a cup of the cough syrup that y/n hated. she downed it quickly but her lips pursed together like she tasted lemon.

sunghoon hollered out another laugh, eyes squeezing shut at how she shook her head in disapproval.

“that was gross!!” she exclaimed, making happy tears well up in the boy. “stop making fun of your sick friend, she doesn’t appreciate it, you know?”

he continued his laughing streak until he deemed it enough, wiping away a tear drop as he watched y/n roll her eyes.

“okay, sorry, hoon is acknowledging that.” he replied, giving a little play on her third person usage.

her lips coiled into a smile as she sent another soft hit to him. “you’re stupid.”

“and you’re sick, so get back in your blankets.”

before she could protest, sunghoon was quick to wrap it around her, giving her no time to react at the way his arms enclosed them together.

he tugged the sheets around her shoulders, gaze completely concentrated on the amount of blankets that covered her.

his face was leaned in, close to the point where her lips could ghost over his cheeks for a soft peck.

she felt her face heat up at the very thought, mind instantly craving for that moment while she watched his thick, dark brows scrunch for complete focus. she couldn’t help but linger her gaze down to his other pretty features.

being this close to her handsome friend felt mind numbingly crazy.

when the boy had finished, he gleamed a half smile before pulling away, proud of how he was able to ensure every blanket had securely been wrapped around her.

she quietly gasped for air after hoon’s brows raised in satisfaction of his work. “there! now you’re warm!” his voice yelled. “you can go to sleep now.”

y/n flickered her gaze to him, watching the way he softly patted his shoulder. she let a puff of air slip by her lips in disbelief as she shoved him.

“why are you being so sweet right now?”

was it not obvious to her that he wanted to feel her rest her head on his shoulder?

sunghoon’s lips pursed together while trying to find the right words. “you’re sick, y/n, why wouldn’t i be sweet right now?” he awkwardly laughed, stomach rupturing in butterflies. “i don’t want my friend to get bad treatment while she’s sick.”

he cheesed a grin and she only shook her head, eventually complying to his offer and laying on his shoulder.

his heart instantly raced at the little bump her head made against him, and he couldn’t help the huge smile that took form on his face from it.

“what should we watch?” y/n mumbled, unconsciously cuddling closer.

“what are you feeling?” sunghoon softly gulped as he forced his attention to stay on the device in front of them.

“mm..,” she thought. “oh! wanna watch lovely runner??”

he raised his brows in confusion. “lovely.. runner?”

“hoon, you need to watch more series…,” she scowled back at him. “let’s watch it!”

the boy was about to make a remark but stopped himself, agreeing with her suggestion since it was her sick day after all.

the drama played, episode after episode as the two stayed glued on the couch, holding each other close — both forgetting that they were just friends.

when another episode had finished, sunghoon’s eyes carefully watched the end credits. he chuckled, excited to start on the next one.

“should we watch another?” he murmured, waiting for an answer when nothing from y/n had been heard.

another minute passed and soft snores had finally erupted out of her.

he scoffed out a laugh, lips quickly curling at her quiet noises before turning his head.

“you’re really asleep?” the boy said, voice kept small to not wake her.

in seconds, the episode was paused and sunghoon carried his sick friend to her bed with ease.

laying her down carefully, his movements were slow and steady. the only thing audible were y/n’s continuous little snores and hoon’s heavy breathing.

the girl was finally set down, wrapped in blankets as he glanced at her state. his heart was pounding in his ears and his fingernails were scratching his palms to calm himself.

even when she was sickly pale, she was still someone who caught his attention timelessly. he loved her, and every little thing that complimented with him.

his lips curled at her, gaze softening as he quietly murmured, “i like you, dummy. can’t you notice me?”

sunghoon sighed, feeling stupid at how he confessed to his friend who still remained asleep. his heart began to shatter, shards painfully stabbing him as he started to head for the door.

however, a hand grab was quick to stop him, holding him back from moving any further. his heart dropped at the fast realization, mind instantly going through scenarios of y/n rejecting him.

slowly, he turned with a fragile mindset, ready to be declined from his crush.

“y/n…,” the male gulped.

she only beamed a half smile when she sat up as her eyes still drooped in fatigue. “i do notice you, loser.” she admitted with flushed cheeks. “because i like you too.. i like you a lot, actually.”

hoon’s face lit up in shock, eyes being blown wide as he felt adrenaline rush through his body. “you like me??” he questioned, falling in disbelief of her words.

y/n bit her lips, hiding away her smile while nodding. “i’ve liked you for a while now… and honestly, you taking care of me made me fall in love with you even more.”

her gaze trailed up to his face, watching how he proudly wore his wide grin made her heart flutter.

“stop looking at me like that..,” she uttered, softly pushing his shoulder, but he couldn’t help it. the girl he’s longed for finally said the words he’s been wanting to hear.

sunghoon flashed his charming fangs at her as he smiled in delight. “what else can i do? my friend’s in love with me.”

“i said like, not love!” she defended.

“i heard love…,” he teased back, causing her to scoff and roll her eyes.

he gave another chuckle before leaning in, lips yearning for hers when she dodged away.

his head tilted in confusion and she only laughed at that. “i’m still sick, hoon. i don’t want to get you sick.” y/n muttered, earning a ridiculed taunt to come from him.

“you think i care about that? the girl i’ve loved for so long has just confessed to me so i’m gonna kiss her.”

sunghoon quickly leaned in again, close to kissing a flustered y/n when she pulled away once more. he softly pouted, face frowning as his gaze stay locked on her lips.

“sunghoon,” she called, but he didn’t answer. the boy continued to be mindlessly stuck on the sight of her lips.

she sent a soft hit to his broad chest, finally catching his attention as his eyes grew hungry.

“i seriously don’t want to get you sick,” she mumbled, face scrunching to emphasize her worry.

hoon only scoffed, biting his lips as he replied — “and i seriously don’t care.”

before she could say more, he swiftly crashed his lips against hers, swooning the girl in seconds. she gasped, earning an entrance for sunghoon as he smiled against her — enjoying the shocked reaction he was able to receive.

his hands firmly held her cheeks, cupping them so she could stay put while she held onto his arms, softly gripping onto his hoodie with the evidential crave in his kiss.

y/n finally pushed against his chest, giving him the signal to pull away and he did. his face continued to linger near hers, eyes searching for flushed cheeks.

“sunghoon!” she quietly scolded, earning a chuckle from his attractive voice.

she felt his lips softly curl against hers and she couldn’t help but to smile as well.

“now you’re gonna get sick.”

her gaze peered into his, making his heart melt while he raised his brows. “i guess you’ll have to be the one to take care of me now.”

he grinned as she rolled her eyes, cupping her cheeks once more for sweet kisses on the lips. he gave soft pecks, continuing on and on before y/n turned her head away.

“i know you like me, but i’m still sick! don’t kiss me right now.” she huffed, trying to swat him away.

sunghoon chuckled. “you should’ve told me that minutes ago, now i don’t want to stop kissing you.”

he leaned in again but the girl dodged her head away. “no, sunghoon!!” she giggled, attempting to push at his chest.

“just one!”

y/n sighed before complying, pushing herself closer for a soft peck on the lips.

“one more?”

her face morphed in disbelief, eventually leaning in for another. a quick plant on his lips was made and he only smiled.

“another?”

“hoon… no.” she folded her arms and shook her head. “my throat is hurting and i’m about to cough if i lean in again.”

sunghoon raised his thick brows mischievously. “so i’ll lean in then.” and so he tried, closing his eyes and expecting a kiss on the lips when he met her cheek instead.

“why don’t you want to kiss your new boyfriend?” he softly whined, becoming clingy within seconds.

y/n scrunched her face as she grinned and nudged him. “because your new girlfriend is sick and wants to rest.”

his lips pushed together and presented duck lips, pouting while wrapping his arms around her. “fine then, let’s rest, hm?” he murmured.

the two laid beside each other, facing one another as his eyes twinkled with love, mind in complete disbelief of how he was able to get his girl.

“i’m so lucky,” his voice uttered in the silence.

“hm?” sleepy y/n replied back.

“i’m lucky you fell in love with me.”

“and i’m lucky you loved me back, and also didn’t burn down my kitchen.” she murmured, voice almost gone from her cold.

sunghoon chuckled and let a huge grin plaster onto his face as he leaned in once more, placing a longing kiss on the tip of her nose.

“get to sleep, pretty girl.” he whispered.

y/n yawned, nodding her head and complying without an insult with how exhausted she was.

he pulled her closer into his arms, engulfing her into his soothing embrace as he muzzled his head on top of hers.

she breathed in his scent, feeling at home when she easily rested her hands at his chest.

the two cuddled, holding each other close to their dearest hearts with a new relationship that just unfolded.

✩ ‘all my life is you’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[sydnikov]

Jersey || J. Hughes

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Jack Hughes/fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: You and Jack got into a fight before he left for a game. To get back at him, you showed up at the bar you knew the Devils frequented after they won a game wearing the other team’s jersey. Only, a fan of said-team’s jersey gets a little too handsy, and even when fighting, Jack won’t stand for another man touching his girl.

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol consumption, touching w/out consent, mild and/or potential assault, kissing, mild angst, lots of fluff at the end

A/N: This is purely self-indulgent… Though I am a little nervous because I’ve never been a Jack Hughes girlie until recently, plus before my beloved hurricanes eliminated the devils I was battling my growing hatred for him LMAO but, anyways, I still have never written for him before, so lemme know what y’all think about this one... Happy reading <3

“Are you done yet?” Jack Hughes said as he raced around the apartment looking for his bag, briefly casting you a look of irritation as he rushed by.

Scowling, you merely spun around to follow his movements. “Did you even hear a word I just said?”

Jack released a sound of triumph as he found his bag by the couch and threw it over his shoulder. “About what?” he asked, purposefully dodging the topic you were trying to hint at. “You bitching about my ‘nighttime activities’ again?” he muttered, intending to just push back your problem with him for another day.

“I heard that,” you hissed, taking brief satisfaction in the way his neck flushed red at being caught. “So, what, I’m just some nagging girlfriend to you, then? Is that it?”

Jack sighed, rubbing a hand down his face as he tied the last lace on his shoe. “I don’t know, babe,” he said. “Can we just do this later?” Finally, he met your eyes for the first time that evening and found stubbornness and frustration staring back at him.

“So you can stay out until four in the morning again doing God knows what?” You scoffed, crossing your arms.

Jack, fed up, stood up and merely shook his head. He said your name through gritted teeth, a spark of genuine anger showing for the first time since starting this conversation. “I have a game to get to. I don’t know what your problem is but you’re really getting on my nerves right now and I really don’t want to hear it.”

Jack, feeling slightly guilty at the way he just spoke to you but not wanting to be the first to apologize, deliberately avoided looking at your face before grabbing his phone and marching out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, tugging at his hair once before releasing a strained breath. Not able to stop himself, Jack looked back at your shared apartment and debated being late to his game just to talk to you, but his stubbornness ultimately won out and with one shake of his head, he tried to cast you and your fight out of his mind until after he came home.

You’d still be there, waiting for him like always, after all, right?

You, meanwhile, stared at the door your boyfriend had just walked through in shock. Anger, frustration, confusion, and the strongest of them all: hurt, rolled through you in waves as you processed the conversation that just happened.

And the ‘problem’ you had with Jack, exactly?

It started out small—nothing huge, or anything. Jack didn’t have many red flags, if any at all – unless you counted him being a professional hockey player – so the fact that you’d been having so many problems recently was a mystery to you, as well.

Well, your relationship had just reached the 1-year milestone, and you only moved in together about a month ago… That’s when you started having problems, you supposed.

Jack’s season playing for the New Jersey Devils had started out strong immediately, and it was clear this was going to be one of his best seasons yet if not the best. The NHL was booking interviews with him, the Devils’ social media had practically turned into a Jack fan page, and the city had just fallen in love with him.

He absorbed the attention like a sponge, of course, like he couldn’t get enough of it. While he was clearly riding the high of being such a hot player right now, he hadn’t ever let it get to his head. His teammates, family, you, would never let him hear the end of it if his ego got too big.

So, here begs the question: why was Jack coming home later and later, texting you when away less, coming up with excuses on why he had to bail on weekly date nights?

Your insecurities had been eating you up lately, and the fact that Jack didn’t even see the problem made it worse. Was he cheating on you? You couldn’t help but ask yourself during many late nights, curled up in the bed you shared, alone, staring at the digital clock on the bedside table as the hours crept by.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you wiped at your eyes before finally tearing them away from the front door after accepting he wasn’t coming back. Making your way to the kitchen, you poured yourself a glass of water to cool your heated body when the vibration of your phone from your pocket interrupted you.

Feeling your heart swell with the hope that maybe it was Jack, you quickly pulled it out only to be disappointed when it was just one of your friends—then you felt bad for feeling disappointed because you loved your friends, as pushy as they could be, sometimes.

Want to hit up a bar? Is what one of them texted in a group chat with you and a few others. Normally, on a night like this where you were wallowing in the emptiness felt by Jack’s continued absence, you’d deny such an offer and merely drown yourself in the cheap wine you kept stashed, but…

A notification from a Devils news site interrupted your thoughts, and that’s where a devious idea struck your mind. Your boyfriend’s team was playing the Philadelphia Flyers tonight, a division rival, and you just so happened to have a close friend who was from the area.

I’m in, you responded to the group chat and couldn’t help but laugh at the string of fire emojis that followed. Wiping the remaining tears from your eyes, you texted said-Philly friend separately and asked if she had any jerseys she’d be willing to spare.

The text bubble that showed she was typing appeared, and then her response came. I have a Konecny jersey. Why?

Perfect.

Two hours later, you were in an Uber on your way to the designated club for the night which just so happened to be a bar that your boyfriend and his teammates frequented after a win. You sported black flared jeans and stilettos, and the star piece of your whole look: a Philadelphia Flyers jersey stamped with Travis Konecny’s name.

You wholeheartedly intended for Jack to see it to rile him up; he had a vicious jealousy streak, and a time like this was the perfect time to ignite it, especially after the 7-0 shutout win they took tonight.

Once you arrived, you tipped the Uber driver and walked in, a happy sway to your step because you felt like you were finally gaining the upper hand in your little feud with your boyfriend. As you walked into the club you were immediately bombarded with the sounds of booming music and flashing lights—the red-to-orange jersey ratio was almost comical, for the amount of ecstatic Devils fans far beat the few Flyers fans scattered throughout the room.

Drunken cheers of your name made you giggle as you found the table your friends had claimed. Like almost every patron in the bar, they were all sporting New Jersey Devils' colors or merch in some way—except for you and the friend who lent you the jersey you were currently wearing, of course.

“Never took you for a Philly fan,” said one of the girls, followed by several agreements. “What’s Jack gonna say when he sees you?”

So he was here, then, you hummed to yourself, briefly scanning the room for any sign of the team. “He’s here already?” you casually asked, leaning back against the booth and sipping on the drink one of your friends handed you.

“Yeah, they’re over in the booth across from us,” they pointed, helping you locate a large group of men and women who you, sure enough, identified as New Jersey Devils players and fan girls hanging off their arms. Feeling your heart seize up because what if Jack had someone hanging off of him, you only released the breath you’d been holding when you saw him near the back of the group talking to Nico.

Your friends saw the brief look of trepidation on your face and didn’t take long to fit the puzzle pieces together. “Are you and Jack still having problems?”

Smiling bitterly, you only shrugged. “Nothing too bad, really. I just want to get back at him for taking me for granted, y’know?”

Immediately, more shots were ordered and you couldn’t help but grin as you tossed the alcohol down your throat, feeling immensely better with the slight buzz that came after.

More confident, too.

Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you announced you were going to the bathroom but merely used it as an excuse to walk by the Devils group, intent on catching your boyfriend’s eye.

Feeling an arm brush against you, you were momentarily distracted when you turned around to find a man about your age looking down at you with a grin that told you he was already several shots ahead of you. He was sporting a Flyers jersey, too.

“You from Philly?” you think the man asked, but it was hard to understand the slur of his words over the loud boom of the music.

You gave him a tightlipped smile before giving your response. Despite the fact you were on a mission to make your boyfriend jealous, you weren’t actually wanting nor intending to cross a line. “No,” you shrugged, taking a small step back. “But I can still be a fan, right?”

As the man laughed, you turned your head back towards where you last saw Jack and sucked in a breath when you saw the look on his face.

Jack had seen you the moment you walked into the bar. He was just drawn to you like that, noticed every little detail about you—including the bright orange Flyers jersey you were currently wearing that made him clench his hand around his drink so hard the glass almost shattered.

What the fuck? He practically growled as he watched you walk up to your friends without sparing him a glance. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel relieved or guilty, because what were you even doing here? You normally always stayed in.

Then Jack had the realization that oh, yeah, you did always stay in—because of him, his schedule, his late nights, and he couldn’t even be bothered to come home to you until the early hours of the morning.

Well then, he thought. That solved the mystery of why you’d been so pissed off at him lately.

The forward anxiously ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t blame you, either.

“Why do you look like you just fucked up?” Nico’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and Jack only cast him a quick glance before relocating you just as you stood up from your booth.

“Because I did,” he said, not taking his eyes off of you as some idiot wearing a Flyers jersey grabbed your attention. “Badly. Very badly.”

Nico followed his teammate’s gaze, furrowing his brow in confusion until he saw you, wearing a—

“Oh,”

Jack had the face of one who couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill you or the guy next to you who still hadn’t taken the hint that you weren’t nearly as interested in him as he was in you. The centerman’s eyes were abnormally dark in the club’s dim lighting, simmering with jealousy and protectiveness.

But that was the entire point of coming here tonight, wasn’t it?

Plastering on a wide, fake smile, you met your boyfriend’s searing gaze and merely shot him a pointed look before attempting to make conversation with the inadvertently talkative man still blabbering on beside you.

He was handsome in a rugged kind of way if you were into that sort of thing, and towered over you in both height and weight much like Jack, but whereas with your boyfriend the size difference made you feel safe and protected, this guy just made you feel smothered and uncomfortable.

He was well past drunk, though, so you figured he couldn’t do that much harm. You hadn’t let him come very close to you either and were trying to maintain a respectful distance knowing Jack was probably having a very hard time restraining himself from marching over and making a scene.

You were just trying to get back at him, as petty as it may be…

The man whose name you later found out to be Todd managed to keep a fifteen-minute conversation going on about himself – which you found mildly impressive – so when he finally started to trail off, you began to make your escape.

“Nice talking with you, but my friends are probably looking for me,” you said, dodging Todd’s attempts at trying to touch you.

“Awe, c’mon, babe, I’m sure they don’t care,” Todd tried to wink, but it looked like he was having some type of muscle spasm instead. You nervously laughed, trying to back away, but then he suddenly stepped in front of you and got so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Don’t be a tease, now,” he slurred, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark. You tried backing away, but quickly hit the counter of the bar where you were now caged in. Fuck, you gulped, feeling very uncomfortable as he crept his hands up your waist. “Get off me, please,” you said, trying to sound stern, but even you could hear the shakiness in your words.

Panicked, your eyes darted around the room looking for any of your friends you came with or even any of the guys you passed earlier, but in the darkness of the club, you came up empty. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling helpless and regretting all of your life choices leading up to this moment, and tried to get away from the face that was steadily creeping closer until you heard a voice all too familiar.

A thunderous voice suddenly boomed over the music, and your eyes shot open in shock at the sight in front of you.

“Get the fuck off of her,” Jack's voice was livid, the edges of a growl erupting from his chest as you watched his hand clamp down on Todd’s shoulder to forcefully yank him away. “Ever heard of consent, asshole?”

You watched, stunned, as your boyfriend’s dark eyes glared daggers into Todd’s whose collar was currently in his grasp. Jack might have been a few inches shorter, but he was stronger and clearly more sober as Todd stumbled in his grasp.

“Dude, chill,” you sucked in a breath as he tried pleading with your murderous-looking boyfriend. “I didn't know she was your girl,” trying to get away from a potential brawl, you stumbled back and in your confusion ran right into someone.

Having just been practically assaulted, you jumped as a hand came to rest on your shoulder. You were sure you resembled something of a startled animal and felt almost embarrassed at the situation you found yourself in.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just me!” Nico’s reassuring voice immediately had you relaxing, and you released a breath as you spun around to face him. Gladly taking the arm the captain offered, you smiled shakily.

“You okay?” He asked once you were safely next to him. You nodded slowly, blinking past the slight pounding of your head. “Yeah,” you replied, your eyes finding Jack and Todd still exchanging heated words a few feet away.

They had won your attention back just in time for you to watch the centerman shove your drunken pursuer to the floor and then step away immediately before doing something worse.

Jack’s eyes quickly found yours as he brushed his hair away from his face, scanning up and down your body for any sign of injury. You knew he was furious with you, but even pissed beyond belief, he was still the most attractive man in the world to you because of how he put your safety and well-being first.

He walked up to you then, nodding his thanks to his teammate for keeping you safe before pulling you into his chest. “Are you okay?” He murmured into the top of your hair, one of his hands squeezing your hip reassuringly.

You inhaled your boyfriend’s scent, burying your face in his shirt and reveling in the comfort his mere presence brought you. “I’m okay,” you whispered, feeling tired now that the night’s events had started to catch up to you. “I love you,”

You felt him murmur the exact words back, the tension slowly leaving his body the longer he held you in his arms and away from the idiot who had his hands on you.

Jack stepped back after a moment, keeping you tucked into his side with a protective arm wrapped around your waist. You kept your face pressed into his side, not yet willing to face reality.

All you wanted right now was him. And your bed, too.

“We’re going to head home for the night,” the centerman said to the rest of the group, hearing no disagreements as they spoke their goodbyes. You lifted your head only slightly to say your own goodbye, giving an extra thankful smile to Nico who merely waved you off.

As you finished talking to the rest of his teammates, you tapped Jack's shoulder and spoke into his ear over the loud music. “I’m going to say bye to my friends real quick,”

Jack had a look of apprehension and even worry on his face, so you stood up on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll be fast, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “But nothing more than that. I’ll be by the door.”

You cast him a grateful smile before slipping away, locating two of your friends still sitting at the booth looking far more inebriated than before. “Jack and I are heading home,” you told them.

“Oh! You guys worked it out?”

You bit your lip, fiddling with one of your sleeves. Huh, orange wasn’t really your color.  “Not exactly,” quickly glancing back towards your boyfriend waiting by the club doors, you winced when you saw his darkened expression. “He’s a little angry with me…”

“Because of the jersey?” they asked, curious. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

You decided you were going to blame the hideous Flyers jersey you were wearing for the series of unfortunate events that happened tonight.

Speaking of, you needed to give it back to the friend who lent it to you, at some point.

“I’ll see you guys,” you muttered, purposefully dodging their questions as you waved goodbye. Luckily, they were too drunk to argue.

You made your way back through the crowd, Jack meeting you halfway to lace your fingers together before leading you to the exit. His pace was quick, and determined, making you wonder just what exactly he had planned.

The cold Jersey air sobered you immensely once you were outside, ridding you of the effects the alcohol had left on you earlier. You finally got a clear look at your boyfriend then, admiring the sharp cut of his jawline and the way he was still fuming even as you walked to his car.

“Jack?” you tried, watching as he pulled open the passenger door for you. “Get in,” he said, avoiding your imploring eyes. “And take that off. You know it looks awful,” he added the last part as an afterthought, scowling at the sight of you wearing a jersey sans his name.

You thought about making a joke but decided against it when you saw the look on his face. He didn't look like he was in the mood for games right now, and something told you you didn't want to test him.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you responded meekly. You heard Jack sigh, and you briefly looked up to find him pulling out a hoodie he had in his backseat.

It was red, of course, a Devils hoodie with his surname printed on the back. The hockey player stared at you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised and that's when you realized he was waiting.

“What, you mean change now?” you squeaked, feeling your eyes widen at the seriousness in his eyes. “Jack, we’re in a public parking lot,”

“And?” he asked, almost sassy considering the situation. “You really think I’ll let anyone look at you?” his muscled arms tensed out of reflex, further cementing his point.

You clenched your jaw, opening your mouth to argue, but then Jack took two quick strides towards you until you were standing chest-to-chest.

He said your name once, placing his hands on your waist to pull you closer. “I almost beat that guy back in the bar to death for placing his hands on you. I would have, actually, if it weren’t for seeing you look so scared next to Nico,” he murmured, staring into your eyes so deeply you couldn’t look away.

“It’s bad enough having to see you wear our rival’s jersey, which I deserve, by the way, because I’ve been an ass to you—but if I have to see you wearing someone’s name that isn’t my own for the rest of the night any longer, I might commit a crime.

“Please,” he breathed, tilting his head downwards to brush your lips together. “Take off the damn jersey.”

All you could do was nod. Yes sir. You maintained eye contact all while you slipped the jersey from your shoulders, feeling immensely better without the scratchy fabric on your skin. Jack wordlessly handed you his hoodie, and you slid it on without complaint.

It was several sizes too big for you; it was loose around your waist and hips and the sleeves were too long for your arms, but you didn’t care one bit because it smelled just like him and made you feel safe and warm and most importantly:

Home.

Jack raked his eyes up and down your body in approval, but he was still tense even as he opened the passenger door for you and shut it once you were in without a word.

You had a feeling you were going to be in for it when you got home, and even with his anger – whether it was directed at you or himself – you didn’t quite blame him.

The only thing you weren’t quite sure of is if he was angry because you semi-flirted with another man or wore a jersey that wasn’t his… Both are completely plausible possibilities.

Jack, meanwhile, had to stop himself from looking your way because he knew he was going to snap, and that wasn’t fair on you. Yes, he had to sit back and watch another guy blatantly hit on you while wearing the opposing team’s jersey, but… You didn’t reciprocate any advances, and he would never fault you for the actions of another.

Just the mere thought of the jackass who had his hands on you made his knuckles turn white on the grip he had on the steering wheel. If not for the terrified look on your face to snap him out of it, he had no doubt he would have pummeled the guy to the ground.

And at the same time, he knew he wasn’t angry with you but angry with himself instead because you had done nothing to warrant his behavior towards you and could even go as far as to say he deserved it, too.

He just wished he hadn’t walked out on you before—you wouldn’t have been almost assaulted if he hadn’t.

Alas, his anger – no matter who it was directed at – radiating off of him in waves was palpable and kept you tense and unsure of what to say or do the entire ride home.

When you finally arrived back at the apartment, the two of you remained silent as you worked around each other in getting ready for bed. For the first time in months he was going to fall asleep in the same bed as you, at the same time, you noted.

The brooding centerman muttered something aloud from the other side of the room, and you looked at him questionably. Jack met your eyes, an emotion unknown brewing in his own that made you curious.

“Orange is such an ugly color,” he said. “What convinced you to even wear that?”

A teasing mood he was in, then. “To make you jealous. Did it work?”

Jack scoffed, taking a few steps forward to playfully grab at your hips causing you to grip his biceps for stability. “It worked, alright,” he murmured, and then his eyes turned dark as he remembered the night’s end result before the two of you left. “I would’ve pummeled him if it weren’t for the guys.”

You bit your lip at the sight of his protectiveness for you written all over his face, hating that you were having a serious conversation now and all you could think about was how attractive he is.

“Then you would have gotten arrested, and probably suspended from the team,” you replied, bringing his attention back to you. Jack cracked a small smile, hair falling over his eyes as his gaze dropped.

“Worth it.” your boyfriend then brought you in close to wrap his arms around you, burying his head in his favorite spot where your neck met your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a moment, his grip on you tightening.

You had no complaints at his sudden burst of physical affection and happily burrowed your head in his chest, breathing in his comforting scent. “For what?”

You might have accepted the fact he was trying to make up for all the fighting over the last few months, but you weren’t just going to let it go, either.

After all, it was only due to you going out of your way to invoke such a strong reaction that got him to pull his head out of his ass.

“For everything,” his mind raced over all the ways he had been treating you wrongly, and had a hard time forming his words in such a way that covered it all. “For never coming home to you, and acting like you were ridiculous for feeling insecure,” he quickly clarified.

You made a noncommittal noise, muffled by the fabric of his shirt your face was pressed against. “I felt crazy—still do feel kind of crazy,” the tears came back then, the emotions – anger, frustration, sadness, fear – of the night catching up to you. “Did I… Was I doing something wrong?”

Jack felt his heart break at the sheer amount of emotion in your voice, and while knowing that the alcohol in your system was partly to blame for your unfiltered honesty, he knew the words you were speaking were still true.

He had to approach this conversation delicately.

He whispered your name, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek and sliding it under your chin so you’d meet his eyes. “Hey, hey, don’t cry, okay? I hear you. You’re valid, how you’re feeling is valid.

“I’m the stupid one, okay? You did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. Well—except for wearing that jersey. But, hey, I don’t even blame you for that, either. I deserved it, yeah?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, not willing to accept his apology because you still felt like he was being too forgiving.

Jack, not being able to stand you hiding from him, gently brought both his hands to your face so he could bring you closer and press a kiss to your lips. “Stop demeaning yourself. You’re better than that—certainly better than me.”

Your laugh was shaky, remnants of tears in your voice undeniable. “I don’t know. I wore that stupid jersey, after all. To make you mad. Deliberately.”

“And it worked,” he replied, refusing to let you shy away from him when you tried ducking your head again. “Very well, in fact. It was really smart, actually; I’m almost proud of you for thinking of it.”

Jack was already making you feel miles better compared to how you were feeling before, and you knew he was using his humor on purpose. His corny jokes were what drew you to him in the first place, after all.

“Almost proud?” you couldn’t help but tease back. “Maybe I should wear a Hurricanes jersey next time. Ooh, or the Rangers,”

The centerman had enough then, and with a wicked grin threw you over his shoulder to bring you into the bathroom. You weren’t drunk, but you were a bit tipsy, and he just wanted to use it as an excuse to really take care of you.

He also just felt really bad, like a shitty boyfriend, too. He had a lot of making up to do and knew this was only the first step.

“There will be no jerseys owned by you unless they are Devils’ red and have my name on the back, yeah?” you pouted as he set you down on the counter next to the sink.

“Fine. Orange is an ugly color, anyways.”

Jack hummed in agreement as he wet a washcloth with warm water and then began to gently wipe down your face. He worked in silence, concentrated on the task at hand while you just admired his face.

Okay, yeah, you were still a little tipsy. Your boyfriend always looked good, but maybe it was just about what happened tonight that had you really appreciating his looks.

“What’re you staring at?” Jack said, biting his lip to hide the grin threatening to break through. He loved that you couldn’t keep your eyes off him.

“You,” you replied with no hesitation, giggling when he proceeded to wipe directly over your eye at your witty comment. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty. Why do you like me, again?”

Your boyfriend scoffed, tossing the washcloth somewhere on the sink before pulling you closer to him. “Pretty? What if I lose a tooth, would you still like me then?” he briefly washed his hands, and then turned back to you. “And why do I love you, you mean? That’s easy. Let me show you.”

“Show me?” you muttered, your brain still running slow. “What do you mean, ‘show me’—”

That’s when he interrupted you by picking you up, moving your legs to wrap around his waist before carrying you to the bed.

Jack kicked off his shoes before falling on his back first while taking you with him. You ended up sprawled on his chest, his arms holding you close as you tilted your head up to meet his eyes.

“Being able to manhandle me is why you love me?” you said teasingly. “Noted,”

The centerman groaned dramatically. Knowing you were about to speak, he interrupted your next sentence by kissing you and grinned into your lips when you sighed with pleasure and brought your hands up to tangle in his hair.

“Done being sassy now?” your boyfriend hummed as he slowly pulled back, looking every bit the mischievous devil as the team he played for.

“Hmm,” you blinked lazily, stretching as if you were a satisfied cat, and wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him close. “As long as you stay here with me,”

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

A few minutes later of the two of you making up for lost time, you had eventually moved to be cuddling under the bed sheets as the little spoon, just how you liked it.

“Don’t wear that jersey again,” Jack grumbled into your neck, pressing a few butterfly kisses to the skin exposed to the air.

“Seriously?” you giggled, attempting to turn around in his arms but being stopped due to the strength of his hold.

“Dead serious. It almost killed me.”

You were used to his dramatics by now but knew he was speaking from his heart because jerseys really did mean a lot to sports players, hockey players especially. Wearing Jack’s name might have just been superficial, but it was still a sure thing and a testament to the seriousness of your relationship.

Wearing someone else’s name, especially someone from an opposing team, was an insult to that even though it was just a piece of clothing at the end of the day.

“Better stay on my good side, then,” you teased, but knew you wouldn’t ever wear any other jersey but Jack’s again. He learned his lesson, as did you.

Teasingly nipping at your neck, your boyfriend merely laughed before burying his head in your shoulder and closing his eyes.

You snuggled closer to the warm wall of muscle behind you, reveling in the comfort of knowing your relationship was stronger than ever.

“I love you,” you said, quietly, staring out the window as the stars looked down upon you.

“Love you, too,” Jack whined at the sharp pain he felt from your arm as it swatted at him, and then quickly clarified. “I mean, I love you—I love you, too!”

You grinned, and you knew he could practically feel it which made the small victory even more satisfactory.

Jack muttered something else under his breath, one word suspiciously sounding like ‘jersey’, and then he was out like a light.

Exasperatedly, you sighed. Hockey players.

You wouldn’t wear a jersey that didn’t have the name ‘Hughes’ and his number printed on it ever again.

A/N: Did you guys like the missing tooth reference? One of my favorite lines in this tbh, I just love poking fun at situations like those lol. Anyways, please please please reblog and comment because it means the world to me and makes writing so much more worth it. I hope y’all enjoyed :))

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[sugarcoated-lame]

Wake Up Call

Joel Miller x Female Reader

pre-outbreak Joel x reader

All of my works are 18+ minors dni!

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Joel knows you’re not a morning person, so he often loves to help you wake up in way that you’ll both enjoy.

or

slow, sleepy morning smut with Joel :)

WC: 3200

Warnings: i’m terrible at titles and summaries i know, this is basically just smut (18+), established relationship, fluff, cuddly joel, smut, somnophilia (kinda?), oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, biting ? (joel bites reader’s shoulder once), a hint of overstimulation, use of a few pet names (sweetheart, darlin’, baby), no use of y/n or description of reader’s physical appearance, moodboard is not indicative of reader’s appearance, joel’s morning voice and joel saying “good girl” in said morning voice deserve a warning. let me know if there’s any I missed! x

a/n: this was my first time writing an actual fic for Joel, so please be nice <3 this was based on some thots that I wrote for an ask that my beloved @sebsxphia sent me 🧡 this was so self-indulgent and I had such a fun time writing it and making the moodboard, I hope y’all enjoy reading!! happy reading, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 🧡

Joel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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It’s a Monday morning like any other. The sun is still rising in the sky, languidly illuminating the world in its hazy golden glow, and you find yourself waking up the same way you do most mornings as of late.

Eyes slowly blinking open to the steadily brightening light that’s begun to make its way through the too-sheer curtains that cover Joel’s bedroom window, a broad chest pressed to your back, and soft breaths blown into the crook of your neck and moving a few strands of your hair along with them.

A strong arm is wrapped around your middle; one big palm splayed across the skin of your belly beneath your—his— t-shirt while the other rests underneath your pillow.

You’re growing used to waking up to Joel’s warmth radiating through you with all the nights you spend in his bed these days, his legs entangled with yours beneath the blankets that had been kicked further down the bed in the night, the extra warmth not needed when you’re completely encapsulated by the furnace that is Joel.

It’s still early as the two of you begin to stir, a while yet before either one of your alarms are set to go off and pull you from the comfort of each other’s embrace and Joel’s plush bed, and into readying yourselves for the upcoming workday.

 The arm around your waist tightens as you slowly begin to wake. Joel burrows further into the crook of your neck, scruffy beard tickling at the skin of your shoulder where his shirt has fallen loose in your sleep, the action one that’s grown to be of great comfort for you.  

Joel’s always been an early riser. All the nights spent together over the months that you’ve been together now, he’s always woken up before you.

He has an alarm clock, but you never understand why he bothers to set it in the first place. His internal clock is always waking him up naturally as the sun comes up, and approximately thirty minutes before Sarah wakes up for school.

Not that you’re complaining, though, because you’ve come to appreciate the slow and natural way you wake up with Joel.

His flurry of kisses to any patch of bare skin he can find, and the warmth of his broad chest pressed against your back always wake you up gently. It’s a routine you’ve come to love, miles better than any loud alarm.

Though Joel can never seem to sleep later than the sun, he loves it because it means he gets to spend a few extra moments just admiring your peacefully sleeping form.

He knows you’re not a morning person, that you love your sleep and hate nothing more than to be woken up by the shrill ringing on an alarm.

So, another benefit of Joel waking up before you is that he gets to wake you up slowly, gently, snuggling into you and littering your skin with kisses that he knows will bring about that sleepy smile that he loves so much as you begin to stir.

Joel’s morning voice is gruff and somehow even deeper than it already is normally as he turns to nuzzle his nose into your neck, pressing a feather soft kiss to the skin just below your ear.

“Mornin’ sweetheart. How’d you sleep?”

In your still half-asleep state, you just barely grace him with a sleepy hum of acknowledgement before pressing your body back against his, cuddling further into his warmth and beginning to drift off again, not quite ready to wake up yet.

Since Joel knows that getting up early is not even close to your favorite thing to do, he often loves to wake you in a way that he knows you’ll both enjoy.

So, it’s no surprise to you when you begin to be pulled further from your slumber by the feeling of his arms retreating from around you, the loss of the comforting heat of his body against yours causing the tiniest of whimpers to escape your lips.

Joel smirks—though he knows you can’t see it through your still-closed eyes—those strong arms turning you onto your back before his body is sliding further down the bed.

Before you know it, gentle kisses are being pressed to your knees, leading a trail up to your inner thighs, the wiry hairs of his beard scratching lightly against your skin as he makes his way up towards where your panty-covered core has already begun to flutter in anticipation.

Calloused palms reach under your thighs and they’re no sooner being parted by the width of Joel’s broad shoulders, his plush lips pecking along the skin where your thigh meets your hip. Languidly making their way up to your hip bones, dotting a sweet kiss to both before descending.

Nosing along the cotton of your underwear, Joel sends a shudder through your entire body when he brushes over the damp spot that’s begun to darken the fabric.

Taking in your heady scent with a groan, his lips press a single kiss there before the warmth of his tongue laves against your seam through the thin fabric and pulls another sleepy whine from your parted lips.

Joel’s rough fingers dip under the waistband as he reaches up to pull them down your thighs, letting out a low groan as he slowly reveals your core, all pretty and glistening just for him.

You’re still not fully awake when he licks into you. His tongue white hot as it licks a broad stripe up to your clit, mixed with the pleasant burn of his facial hair scraping against the soft skin of your inner thighs, has your hips bucking against his mouth and quiet whimpers leaving your lips even in your still-sleepy state. Joel can’t help but growl at the taste of you.

His strong arms wrap around your thighs to hold you in place, to keep you open wide for him as he fucks you with his tongue, and it’s only when he sucks your sensitive bundle of nerves between those plush lips that you fully awaken on a broken cry.

With your eyes squeezed shut now from pleasure, one of your hands reaches down blindly into his soft, sleep-mussed curls as his tongue swirls around your clit in firm, tight circles.

You’re already getting close to reaching your high when your eyes finally open and you peer down to see Joel.

The bottom half of his face is slightly obscured under the covers as he makes his way back down to your entrance—the tip of his nose brushing against your clit and rendering you dizzy while his tongue laps up the gush of arousal there, and those deep, chocolate eyes boring into your sleep-hazy ones as one hand leaves your thigh so that one of his thick fingers can join his tongue.

Joel turns to press a kiss to your inner thigh, and you can feel his slight smirk against your skin along with the tickle of his beard as he murmurs a quiet “Mornin’, baby.”

The deep, raspy drawl of his morning voice has you clenching down around his finger as it pushes into you, pulling a breathy whine from you as your own fingers tighten their hold in his hair, and you’re barely able to get out a shaky good morning back to him.

In the tranquil, early morning quiet of Joel’s bedroom, you both can hear just how wet you are for him. The deep groan he lets out mixes with your breathless cries as you both listen to the squelch of his digit sliding in and out of you.

“Ya hear that?” Joel’s lips press again to your inner thigh. “So wet for me, darlin’. Were you dreaming of me?”

It’s all you can do in your hazy state to let out a hum of agreement and nod, not trusting your voice as his words and his thick finger pull you closer to that edge.

Joel’s cheek still rests along the smooth skin of your thigh as he turns his gaze upward to watch your face while his finger continues its ministrations. He nearly growls at the sight—your head thrown back and hair spread messily across his pillows. Brows furrowed and eyes clenched shut in pleasure, your perfect lips parted and letting out the prettiest sounds as he works you over.

“Joel— fuck.” You can’t help the desperate moan that escapes your parted lips as Joel adds in a second finger and crooks them just right. Turning your face into the pillows to quiet the sound—his daughter is still sleeping right down the hall, after all—your hips buck toward him of their own volition and push his fingers even deeper as they prod against that spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

“Doing so good for me, baby.’ Joel praises with one last peck to your thigh, before he turns his head to press a lingering kiss to your swollen clit that sends a jolt up your spine.  

Then, he’s trailing back down toward your entrance, drawing another gasp from you as the tip of his nose just barely grazes your clit. You can’t help but whine at the loss of his fingers as Joel pulls them from your core, your walls clenching around nothing for only a moment before the warmth of his tongue takes their place.

Joel laps up some of your wetness with a groan that sends shockwaves through your core before his tongue presses back into you. The warm, wet muscle glides through your walls, in and out, and you find yourself whimpering in frustration at the feeling—oh so good, but not quite full enough.

It’s enough to have your hands relinquishing their hold on his locks and scrambling to pull him up the bed by his shoulders and begging him to fuck you.

“Joel, please. Need you now, baby!” Your voice sounds breathless and borderline frantic, and Joel can’t help but feel a little pride in just how worked up you get for him.

“Need—”

He cuts off your desperate pleas with a bruising kiss, pulling a needy sound from deep in your throat at the taste of yourself on his lips as they meet yours.

Joel parts from you to glance at the clock on his nightstand. He knows you’ve probably got about twenty minutes now before you each have to get ready for your respective days—before Sarah wakes up for school, and she’ll be knocking on his door to make sure that he’s up and ready to take her there before he heads to work.

Plenty of time to give you what you need.

Joel takes a moment to admire your features—pretty eyes still bleary from sleep, bottom lip swollen from his kiss and from being bitten between your teeth as you tried to keep your moans quiet. Chest heaving slightly in anticipation, nipples pebbled underneath the loose fabric of his t-shirt as you wait for him to make the next move.

He leans in to give you one more lingering kiss, his tongue parting your lips and meeting yours in a languid swirl that leaves you feeling dizzy when he pulls away.

Joel shifts back onto his knees, and you have half a mind to protest him being so far from you before his hands are meeting your hips.

“Turn over, baby.” He instructs you softly, those strong hands moving you with a surprising gentleness as he guides you to lay on your stomach.

You lie with your cheek pressed to the pillow, fingers digging into the sheets underneath it, your body tingling with anticipation as you wait for him to touch you.

Joel hastily removes his boxers, biting back a deep groan as he gives his already-throbbing length that’s been neglected until now a few firm strokes, spreading the precum that’s pearling at the tip as he watches your thighs clench with need.

You feel the calloused palms of his hands begin to trail the back of your thighs, and up slowly over your ass, fingers pushing up the hem of his much too-big t-shirt that you wore to bed along with them and making you shiver as they expose the smooth planes of your back.

Joel’s hands slide back down to part your thighs and make room for him, lifting your hips just slightly, and then he’s positioning himself over you.

With his broad chest pressed to your back once again and your spread thighs bracketing his, he reaches down to run his cock through your folds, gathering up your slick and pulling sharp gasps from you both as his tip bumps against your clit, before he notches himself against your entrance.

His body is a comforting weight against your back, the both of you letting out simultaneous sounds of pleasure and relief as Joel pushes into you slowly. His face rests in the crook of your neck and he groans at the way your tight, wet walls envelope him just right, the muscles already clenching around him as he waits to move.

Hips pressed to your ass while he gives you a moment to adjust to his length, Joel revels in the way you whine at the fullness of him. It’s always a stretch to accommodate his size, but you always take him so well.

“Mm—move, Joel. Please, baby.”

Your words and your hips attempting to buck back against him under his weight are enough for Joel to start moving, arms bracing beside you as he pulls his own hips back, slamming back into you in one quick thrust.

“Fuck!” You bury your face in the pillows to muffle your moans as Joel begins a steady pace.

All of your senses are completely surrounded by him—his scent on the silky fabric of his pillowcase, the hairs of his beard scratching at the column of your neck as he quietly grunts and moans into your ear, the weight of his strong body pressing you into the sheets as his cock fills you up and quickly pulls you back toward the edge of that cliff, more than ready to fall off.

Joel’s lips begin a trail of kisses all along your neck and up to your ear so he can whisper directly into it, that deep drawl of his eliciting a downright sinful mewl from your lips.

“So good for me, sweetheart. Always feel so good.”

His praise has your walls clamping down around him tighter as Joel fucks you slow and deep into the mattress. Both his words and his hips stuttering as he drives into you, bringing you both closer and closer to your highs every time his length prods against that spot inside you that makes you feel like you’re going to come undone.

“So, fuck—fuckin’ tight.” Joel groans as he buries his nose in your hair.

One of his large hands reaches out to cover one of your own that’s still tightly gripping the sheets, the other snaking its way beneath your body to find your clit and you shudder underneath him as the speed of his thrusts begins to quicken.

Face still buried in the pillows, your desperate cries of Joel’s name are muffled as he works you closer to the edge. The feeling of his cock dragging through your slick walls and filling you oh so deep, and the rough pads of his fingers circling your clit, leave your mind feeling hazy—and not because you’re still sleepy.

Joel can tell that you’re close from the way that your moans have shifted into breathless, broken cries, your cunt clamping down around his cock in a vice-like grip that’s driving him to the brink right along with you.

“Such a good girl for me,” He pauses to press a gentle kiss just behind your ear before he continues. “Need ya to come, baby.”

Joel’s words of encouragement, along with his deft fingers speeding up in their assault on your clit, have you falling over the edge with a sob of his name.

“Good girl.” He mutters close to your ear as his hips continue to piston against your backside, fingers still rubbing your clit and leaving you a writhing mess underneath him.

Your loud cries are softened as you bite down on the pillow below you when the pleasure borders on overstimulation. You feel so full as Joel continues to fuck you nice and deep, working you through your orgasm as he begins chasing his own.

With your release soaking his cock, and the velvety walls of your cunt practically strangling his length, his hips begin to falter in their rhythm and it’s only a few more thrusts before Joel reaches his peak.

Pressing impossibly deeper into you, he leans in to bite down on your shoulder through the fabric of your t-shirt to muffle his moans as he coats your spasming walls with his cum.

Joel’s deep, throaty moans mix with your softer sighs as his hips gradually come to a stop, still buried deep inside you as his fingers leave your oversensitive bundle of nerves, hand now retreating from beneath you as he lets his weight slump against you for just a moment.

With a few more kisses to the side of your head, Joel makes his way back down to your neck, and then to your shoulder where his lips press tenderly to where he knows is probably now a bite mark under your shirt, before he slowly pulls out of you.

The weight of him leaves you as he moves back onto his knees on the mattress, taking a moment to admire the mess of you both between your legs.

Joel then reaches for the box of tissues on his nightstand, grabbing a few to clean up the mix of your releases that’s begun to leak out of your core, tossing them into the trash can beside his bed and moving to turn you onto your back.

Body pliant and sated, and practically melting into the mattress, Joel can’t help but chuckle at you as leans down to meet your lips in a kiss so sweet it has you sighing against him.  

It’s only a few moments after you’ve finished, after he lays back down on the bed and pulls you onto his bare chest, that the alarm goes off with the shrill signal that it’s time to start the day.

With a groan, you look up from your spot lying against Joel’s chest to see him already gazing down at you, a small smirk lifting the corner of his lips as he reaches a hand up to run through your hair.

“Guess it’s time to wake up, sweetheart.”

With a dramatic roll of your eyes, your head flops back down onto his pec with another huff of disagreement and the two of you share a breathless laugh before Joel moves to shut off the alarm.

And, though you won’t admit it, you definitely wouldn’t mind an early wake-up call if you got to wake up like this every morning.

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Aaaaah thank you for reading!! Don’t hesitate to leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed! x

tagging everyone who reblogged the original post that this was based on 🧡 : @seitmai @givemeth @lumoverheaven @fangirlbang @onceupona-happilyeverafterlove @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @twoheartscanyon @sunblchdfly @caffeinated-idiot @fandomimagines2023

and a few others moots who i think may be interested 🫶🏼 : @softiedingo @joelsgreys @gasolinerainbowreads @thepascalofus @ilovepedro

[yjhzies]

“Mr. Blushing Boo.” — Boo Seungkwan

⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff . crack . self-indulgent

⋆ pairings : seungkwan x gn!reader ⋆ warning : not proof-read, mentions of a ghost (not literally) ⋆ wc : 0.8k [✉️] · when you're bf hates you addressing him by his full name, but he is down bad for you.

⋆ - note : DON'T WE JUST LOVE A LOSER BOO 😼 he is so cute i couldn't shake this thought off so I'll share some of my delulu-ness <3 also my first seungkwan fic! this man is wrecking me so hard it's not even a joke anymore, hannie is shivering timbering in his boots 💔🙏

"I swear, this recipe said 'easy'."

Seungkwan groaned in frustration, scowling at the recipe book on the counter in front of him and reaching out to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand.

You let out a small laugh, handing him a tissue. "Use this, stinky."

Huffing out a breath, he took the tissue from your grasp while rolling his eyes and sneering. He returned his gaze to the recipe book, his face painted with an unimpressed expression.

"Baby, can you bring me the flour?" He said, not taking his eyes off the book as he began mixing the batter in a bowl.

"Ah, okay," you say, washing your hands and walking over to the cabinet.

You extended your hand to unlock the cabinet and then grabbed the flour bag. Your hands were shaky from the weight, and you prayed that it wouldn't fall. Just as you gradually took it out over your head—

boom.

You just stood there dumbfounded with flour all over your face, not even bothering to scream. You blow the flour from your lips away.

"I heard a sound, are you oka-"

Seungkwan arrived on the other side of the kitchen and called out, only to stand there with his mouth agape. He looked you up and down, then burst out laughing.

"Baby-" He squealed, leaning on the counter to support himself and keep from falling. You scowled at him. However, you could not suppress the small giggle that escaped your lips when you saw him laughing.

His hands move away from the counter, causing him to roll on the ground as he laughs.

"What a boyfriend," you murmured under your breath, amused by the sight of your boyfriend rolling on the floor, laughing instead of helping you.

"Come and help me now, will you?"

With a gasp for breath, he opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out as he began laughing once more.

You stood there, looking stupid like a ghost. With a sneer, you inhale deeply, prepared to scare your beloved boyfriend half to death.

"Boo Seungkwan!"

He paused at the full ass goverment name, and perked up his head to look at you. His eyes widened as if they were about to pop out, and his lips pursed.

"Come and help me." Your tone was firm, and Seungkwan pushed himself off the floor and dashed straight to you. He picked up the flour bag and set it on the table before taking a cloth to wipe your face.

With a pout on his lips and his eyes fixed on your cheek, he gently started wiping the flour off your face. You knew it was because you addressed him by his full name. He obediently followed your words as you tried not to laugh at his pout.

"Baby," he said quietly, staring at his hand. "I'm sorry for laughing earlier..."

"I swear I didn't mean it! you see, it was just really funny seeing you covered in f-" He paused and raising his head to study your expression before lowering it once more. "Okay, I'll shut up."

But he flinches as you grab his face and peck his lips. As he digests what happened, his eyes enlarge.

"You're so cute, boo." You grin, squishing his pink-dusted cheeks. Unlike him, he smiled shyly and looked down, like a shy high school boy facing his crush.

"Aw, should I name you Mr. Shy Boo?"

He giggled lightly as you called him Boo. Suddenly shy to touch you, he reached out to hold the fabric of your shirt on the sides of your waist.

It was one of those goldy moments when you fluttered THE Boo Seungkwan's heart. Because, first thing, there has not been a day when he has not side-eyed you if you are being clingy more than usual (he actually enjoys it and gives in after acting whiny), and second, he will be teasing and poking you every chance he gets, so you are the one who is giddy at the end of the day. But that doesn't stop you from knowing his weaknesses.

"No, just call me boo..." With a slight smile on his face, he mumbled and leaned in to place his head on your shoulder while placing his hands lightly on your hips.

Reaching out, you take his hands in yours, adjusting it so that it encircles your waist before you put your own arms around his neck.

"Guess what, boo?"

"Mm?"

"+1 for my collection."

"Huh? what collection?"

"The Blushing Boo collection!" You giggled, and suddenly Seungkwan is side eyeing you. He raised his head to intensify the glare, which appeared more like to a pout.

"You don't like it? should I change it to Boo Seungkwan?"

"Don't call me that." With a light foot stomp, he let out a whine. "The name boo sounds much better from your mouth."

"So can I name the collection as blushing boo?" You grinned.

He huffed with a hint of smile, and shrugged. "Whatever."

"Got it, Mr. Blushing Boo!"

[fastboatsmojito]

sighs thinking about how annoying Scott would be about making sure you’re comfortable when you’re on your period </3

ib this post by @/glossykissies bc I think about it for a week straight every month now, everyone say thank you Princess 💞

| a/n; wrote this a few days ago while on my little break bc I couldn’t resist

| cw; clearly self-indulgent whoopsie daisy, gn reader, all fluff <3

| wc; 333

You’d be sleeping right now if it weren’t for the phone call you just finished, rolling over from your place curled into yourself on the bed, the only position that seemed to lessen your cramps with the beloved help of your favorite warmie plush to answer it.

A simple ‘you need anything while I’m at the store?’ call — one that Scott had gotten used to making whenever he graced a grocery store, or left the house in general for that matter.

You weren’t quite used to the gentle consideration, but it got easier when he confessed that he enjoyed it just as much, if not more than you did, satisfied with just taking care of you any way he could. Any way you’d let him.

He nodded like you could see it through the phone when you finished listing off your own personal list of needs and made his way down the aisles, double checking that that was really all you needed before hanging up and heading over.

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

If the blissful combination of your favorite show on and his rough palms finding their way to be gentle over your stomach wasn’t enough to cheer you up, getting him to cuddle up in all the fluff of your blankets and pillows with you certainly was.

Murmuring about how you needed some movement while letting you squeeze your arms around him. Though clearly he was just as partial to being lazy and warm together as you were, at least for now.

He’d even let you persuade him into a nap, something he’d swiftly deny his participation in if asked, even with his eyes still closed. finally understanding the lengths you went to making your bed oh so cozy.

A mental note he’d take into consideration the next time he made that familiar call to you, wordlessly adding a blanket to the list for you because it was clear to him now that there really was ‘no such thing as too many.’

[yinyangle]

i am so incredibly autistic about them you people have no idea

rambles and stuff under cut

anyways. so heres chat my beloved. brain decided twitch chat was most important character ever. now im stuck like this, with a little purple hivemind as a comfort. wonderful. i even have a roblox avatar of them it looks like this

isnt it awesome. it barely looks like them but it gets the point across. i love it. it makes me so happy. they make me so happy. for no reason. i love how my design of them has evolved over time.

have i ever shown them without robes to tumblr? they have black fur under the robes! entirely black! the white parts only go to their joints! isnt that so awesome? that part of the design is kind of a remnant from their old designs, where i still drew them with a hat. cuz they would hide the black fur and pretend it was all white. to match the mask of course. and of course now the dark fur is on display. because i decided fuck it i love drawing fluff they can be a little fluffy as a treat.

and also, if you look at older drawings, they used to have shoes. why get rid of them? 1. paws too big to fit in the shoes 2. i didnt want to draw shoes 3. i like drawing paws. fight me.

is this the most self indulgent ive ever been publically about them? maybe. but also this is my blog. and if you're as insane about rttopia as me youll take any art you can get, whether it appeals to your views or not. this is what 3 years of a special interest encompassing every single aspect of your life does to a mf. you get a chat design so far removed from the original mii its insane. and i wouldnt have it any other way. i love them like this, with all my headcanons stacked and piled so high the top cannot be seen with the naked eye. i hope in the future it gets even higher, with my designs getting more complex as more lore and love is poured into these characters, until eventually theyre unrecognizable. power of autism.

this ramble has gone on long enough and if you read it all im very thankful, have a lovely day !!! :D

[yeahspider]

SWEET LIFE

A/n- this is so self indulgent. like seriously. maknae line x f. reader fluff yes plz! might get a hyung line version bc I like the concept (maybe if yall want it) but this is just a vibe so vibe with me. nsfw (weed mention) . enjoy and feel free to visit my inbox as I am taking requests. <3

Your apartment was a little crowded today. Considering it was everybody's off day. The boys decided to spend most of it at your place. Your apartment for them was a safe haven away from prying eyes and demanding schedules.

You didn't mind having them all over as you hated when you were alone. The noise they brought provided you a piece of comfort. After grueling rehearsals all week and your never-ending day job, this was a much-needed moment of peace.

“Someone take the scissors out of Jisung’s hand thank you very much!” you say as you prepare yourself for the task of taking down your braids. Your next appointment is in the upcoming week and you wanted to give your hair some time to breathe. With the length they're at, it was going to take a while. But of course, your boys are ever excited to help you out. Well most of them.

I feel like you’re scamming me babe.” says Seungmin as he grabs the scissors from Jisung. No one wanted to risk your wraith if he cut too high.

"I don't know what are you talking about Minnie I'd never scam you beloved," you say in your defense.

"yeah because five dollars is a completely reasonable nonscamming price," he says with a smile. Taking your braids gently out of the bonnet you had them in. Seungmin didn't want to pull on them if he could help it.

Jisung, now scissorless, took a seat beside you on the floor. Setting the blunt wraps on the coffee table in front of you. Preparing to roll for you and himself.

"I wish you would let me help more," he said with a pout on his face. You wanted to kiss it off him.

"you are helping sungie your presence is enough. It keeps me calm. Plus no one else rolls a blunt for me as good as you do." you comfort me as you kiss his now smiling lips. That seemed to satisfy him enough as he started the rolling process.

Felix came bounding into the living room from his napping spot in your room, flopping himself on the couch and picking up the remote to the TV. Channel surfing for something interesting to watch.

"Ugh, nothing is interesting to watch on TV. Felix complained while sliding down the couch to the floor as if he was melting in boredom.

"You could always just hook up the game and play Mario Kart or something. Go see if one of the boys wanna play with you," you suggested. Smiling at his antics as he crawled across the floor to give you a kiss. "You always have the best ideas, babe." He said as he practically skipped out of the room. Making your face flush at his praise. Just waving it off as Jisung teased you for your reaction.

A soft moan left your mouth as Seungmin got to the root of a braid. His hands gently unbraiding and giving your scalp a little rub to loosen up the tension. His hands felt so heavenly on your head after the rough week you had.

Felix took his time dragging a sleepy Jeongin into the room. It seems as if he found his gaming partner, although unwillingly. Going straight to the TV to set everything up, meanwhile, Jeongin sleepily made his way to you. Placing his head in your lap as he pulled himself closer to your stomach. You just laughed softly at his cat-like antics. Reminding you of a certain someone.

"Tell Felix to let me sleep." Jeongin groaned. His warm breath hits the exposed skin on your stomach. Hands hin his hair as you stroking softly.

"Now you know once Lix has his mind set on something there is no telling him anything." you comfort the boy.

"But I'm so tired and you're so warm and comfortable Don't make me go over there to that heathen."

Felix can get kind of crazy while gaming but before you could even suggest a solution the sunshine boy dragged the sleepy one out of your embrace. A groan erupts from the latter. There was no saving him now.

An object in front of your vision distracted you from the two gaming boys. It was the blunt Jisung rolled especially for you. To take the edge off a rough week. Encouraging you to take a hit he placed it right between your lips. Murmurung a "There you go. good girl." as you inhaled. Normally you would correct him for goodgirling you but today you didn't care. So you let him get away with it. Plus he could roll one hell of a blunt. And it was kind of hard to be cross with his hand on your thigh and Seungmin'd in your hair. In fact, you were quite content.

"Chan texted he and the hyungs should be home in a bit," Felix said from in front of the TV.

"Good, that's just enough time for Jisung to roll another one," you suggested. Tugging on the hem of his shirt. Maybe you were too high, because you really wanted him to take it off. Yeah, you were so high.

"Hey, I'm not rolling for those losers! I roll for you, and for you only! They have their own hands." Jisung protested as he offered it to Seungmin to which the younger declined, stating that he had to stay focused on your hair. Something about his statement made your heart swell. It's a nice feeling to be cared for.

Jisung then offered to blunt the other two in the room. They on the other hand accepted his offer. It was often he shared his blunts with anyone other than his girl. He said it was the gentlemen in him.

Time passed as you all waited for the older ones to get home. The more that passed the higher you got, and soon enough everyone in the room was higher than you originally intended to be. You could tell in the way everyone was lying to each other. Felix and Jeongin are a pile of limbs, their game long abandoned. Music is playing from the speakers as they whisper secrets to each other, giggling like school children while watching random videos on their phones. You were still seated between Seungmin's legs. His hands still dutifully unbraiding. Ever dedicated to his craft. But you could tell he was contact high as well. You could tell in the way he would kiss your head ever so often. A gentle reminder of his affection for you.

Jisung was sitting in your lap, playing with random parts of your body. Your face arms legs had all been prodded by him, not that it bothered you in the slightest. His touch left sparks all over you. You were having conversations about whatever came to mind. And finding comfort in one another. The atmosphere is warm and cozy. You wish every day could be like this.

[sillyvampireboi]

Why are you tormenting my kitchen??

~AO3~

Summary: Armand is fascinated by blenders. Who knew that there were many different types with different functions? Do they only blend liquid or flesh too? He must experiment.. to Daniel’s demise.

Contents: pov Armand, romantic, fluff, attempt at humour, armandaniel, Armand being Armand, blood, gore, not beta read, description of cutting someone up ^^’ 

a/n: I feel like Armand is like a little child, regarding discovering new technologies and finding joy in trying them out. | I wrote it totally self-indulgently. I have that urge in me to see Armand destroy Daniel’s (blender at first) kitchen 👁️v👁️

tagging: @okaytosave

~ English is my second language ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So Daniel, you grew up and lived in this era, which one is the best?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” 

“Well, I suppose you used these machines before.” 

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I compared all brands in the world. “ — chuckled my fascinating boy. — “But buy that one. It’s the most expensive.” 

We were standing in the Aisle of Blenders in Media Markt. Recently, I became spellbinded by this store. It showcasted the best and most popular technology on the market during those years. My love laughed at me many times, when waking at night and not finding me at our home, discovered me studying iPads in that store for hours to no end. How fastly changeable technology became! It felt like there were new updates to my iPad every month, new features were added which became more colourful, more easy to use and were more apps to choose from. Sims and Minecraft became my favorites to spend my time on. I created our own avatars, mine and Daniel’s, in Sims where we lived happily as a married couple. I even found a kitten, when I told Daniel about it, he simply asked me to make him a successful writer and ‘WooHoo’ him every night. He didn’t tell me what that meant. I need to check its meaning in the near future. 

However, back to me and Daniel looking at blenders: When I got used to the innovations phones and tablets offered, I found my new interest stirred in kitchen items. I have to admit, I abandoned my interest in kitchen utensils. They remained more or less similar for hundreds upon hundreds of years, so I let my curiosity wander to other directions. Then sweet Daniel stepped into the timeless night of my life, introducing me to feelings I’ve been absent from, besides human contraptions I didn’t pay attention to. Such innovation was this engaging appliance called Blender. 

As far as I understand, it can mix liquids and soft objects such as fruits and vegetables together. Mortals use these devices to create ‘smoothes’ and other drinks Daniel told me about. Sadly, they can’t break bones or other hard surfaces into tiny pieces. Believe me I tried, that was the reason me and Daniel were shopping for a new one.

“Are you still angry at me, love?” — I temporarily turned from the shelf to look at Daniel. He sighed deep, feeling frustration omitting from him rather than anger. 

“No. But I’m getting a little vexed since you keep tormenting my kitchen.”

“I’m only experimenting my beloved.” 

“Yeah, right” — The innocent voice I used had a nearly immediate effect on him. His eyes softened, and the aurora around him became a lovely pink coloured mess.  — “Just buy more, so we don’t have to come here every night, hm?” 

“Everything for you dear!” 

“Sure, don’t have to be in my ass. Just choose 3 and let us go already.” 

The night was hot and breathless, attacking our senses constantly with the noise of the beeping city. The streets were nearly as light as during the day in this new century, illuminated by hundreds of lamps, advertisements and closed shop windows. 

As I was walking beside Daniel, carrying my “newly doomed Blenders” - as he tells me - in their boxes, I thought back on the previous night. 

I was in the kitchen, while my beloved was still in our bedchamber. The sun just started leisurely sinking lower and lower on the darkening sky, painting it with pink and purple and then blue at last. While the shadows began climbing along the lengthy sides of buildings, I set up the kitchen. 

My love already had a Blender in his home, which I borrowed for my investigation. I prepared a victim for the night: a young, muscular boy. Barely scraping the threshold of twenty, full of life and strength, his young face shining with his youthful years I’ll be draining out of him. 

“Rest.” 

My voice covered him gently from his curly head, till his long legs. He truly was a beautiful boy, one I’ve seen centuries ago in the palace of my Master. His muscles and mind relaxed, regardless of his integral struggle for life, while I opened up his wrist and let his warm blood fill several cups, I organised in the kitchen. I let his blood flow until his heart began to slow, losing his hopeless battle against his fate, until it fully stopped. 

First, I poured one cup of his blood into the Blender, and turned on the machine. It began to buzz and whirl. It moved the blood around in circles, creating light bubbles in contrast to the shadowless. 

It passed the first test. After emptying its container I added another cup of blood into it, then turned back to the body of the boy. With a knife in my hand, I let my gaze travel over his lifeless shell. His pink flesh lost colour and turned to gray, and his eyes which were filled with fearful tears a few minutes ago, now stared blankly at the ceiling. I let him free of his thin shirt, and opened up his delicate skin. 

I put slim pieces of his muscles in the blood at first, then steadily increased the amount. The Blender succeeded these challenges, cutting the meat into smaller and smaller parts, until it became a bloody meat ‘smoothie’. I poured it into a new cup and started again. 

At this time, I used his heart, lungs and a part of his brain in one session, mixing it with more blood. The machine seemingly struggled quite a bit, but mixed them nonetheless. It wasn’t as perfect as the previous one, but still liquid-y. 

I continued experimenting with his other organs, the Blender struggling more and more, until it reached its breaking point. 

It was bones that broke this interesting innovation.

I began with his blood again, and continued with adding tiny parts from his limb bones - which I smashed with my hands -, until I carried on with bigger bones: fingers, toes, and collar bones. However, as I added a forearm, it couldn’t pierce through the stone-hard surface of the white parts and its scales stopped while the motor still ran. I watched with wild wonder, while the buzzing got pregnant with panic, until it stopped with a sudden bang. The remains of the meat, blood and bones flew up in the air, and blanketed me and the kitchen furniture with a nasty, sloppy sound. 

Oh no - I thought - I broke Daniel’s Blender, there is still time to buy him a new one. He isn’t using it anymore, so he won’t notice and then I clean— 

“What the fuck has happened here?” — My beloved was standing at the door of our bedroom, arms crossed in front of his chest, sleep still heavy in his eyes. His gaze naturally traveled to me first, next on the body of the cut up form of my victim, until at last, traveled over the rain of dark red, thick wetness on the walls and ceiling. 

“Daniel, I can expl—“

“What is this? Why are you tormenting my kitchen?!” 

“I merely wanted to experiment dear. You showed me a lot about new technologies and the one that interested me the most was this apparatus called Blender! It moves and has knife-like edges inside and mixes substances! My beloved, you must understand I had to try! And what fascinating discoveries I made.” 

Daniel stood there completely spellbounded, staring at me in the grotesque scene I created. For a long time he said nothing, until I saw the slight smile in the light of his eyes, which meant he wasn’t angry at all even though he tried to appear to be. A deep sigh which he didn’t need anymore, escaped his lungs while he roamed his gaze over me and our kitchen again. 

“Alright, this is what we are going to do. First you clean this whole mess and then YOU buy a new blender. And I’m going to ask for a fucking expensive one, you can be sure of that.” 

I couldn’t help, but giggle at his mocked fury, that imitation of frustration he forced on his lovely face. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment we arrived home, I organised our new Blenders in the cabinets, taking out plates and glasses, just to put them back and find a new place for them. Daniel was enjoying my structuring skills with an open delight, from the dining table. 

After I was done, I walked to him, sly as a cat, sitting on his lap and putting my arms around his neck.

“What?” 

“Will you show me how to order from Amazon?” 

“Why? “ — he eyed me with suspicion. 

“I want to order a robotic eater!” 

“Robotic eater? You mean a robot vacuum?” 

“Yes! Please Daniel, I have to see if it really eats everything and moves around furniture.” 

“God. What did I sign up for?” 

My soft laugh disguised us from the outside world, leaving us in a light pink bubble. 

[rinnsverse]

BITTERSWEET — 42!miles morales

TROPES: my poor attempt at angst, minor fluff

UNIVERSE: canon-divergent

PAIRING(S): 42!miles morales x gn!reader

WARNING(S): translated Spanish (please correct me), reader is still learning Spanish, 42!miles is a sad boi, mentions of death, ooc!miles I think?? (I really don’t know, this man got 2 minutes of screen-time)

A/N: is this original? not really. is this self-indulgent? absolutely. 42!miles is in purple 1610!miles is in red. Also sorry if this is all over the place, I was lowkey kinda sick when I wrote this

HOW DID MILES even end up in the spider society’s headquarters? Other Miles.

“Look man, I appreciate you bringing me here, but I really don’t see the point of me being here.”

“Dude, the only people you ever talk that your close to is mom, uncle Aaron, and me,” the tallest rebutted.

Miles was about to retort that those weren’t the only people he was close with but quickly snapped his mouth back shut, bringing back bittersweet memories.

— FLASHBACK

“Miles!” you called out, hurrying up your walking pace into a slight jog, “Thanks for waiting for me.”

“Of course. No podía tener al amor de mi vida aquí solo en estas calles a punto de ser asaltado,” he replied offering his hand which you took, and began walking.

“Wait, did you just call me ‘love of your life?’” you question after finally translating it in your mind, obviously flustered by his sudden declaration.

“You’re getting better, amar,” he compliments placing a chaste kiss to your jaw.

“Hey! Don’t ignore my question!”

Abruptly pausing your walk to your place, he swiftly drags you to the side of the street pulling you closer, “Sí, eres el amor de mi vida. Now, am I the love of your life?” he inquires with a soft whisper, squeezing your hand.

“My love is all for you, amado,” you softly chuckle placing a kiss, squeezing his hand back.

“That’s right, I am your beloved,” he smiled cockily, pulling you closer to him, with his arm around your shoulder instead of holding your hand in his, resuming the walk.

— END OF FLASHBACK

“We’re not close,” he huffed out.

“We’re literally the same person, but you somehow ended up emo and even more of a nerd than I am.”

One look from the other, made Miles immediately shape up again, “Um, anyways! This is the cafeteria, though not a lot of people are here right now since for some reason at exactly 3:33 PM no one’s ever hungry.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, but in the next 10 minutes or so, this place should be filled,” as if on cue 2 spider-people came swinging in.

“What’s up Miles and new guy!” Pavitr greeted, taking off his mask to show off his perfectly white smile.

‘So bright…’

“Finally, now your the new guy Prowler me.”

“No your still the new guy.”

“Wait why?! We’ve known each other for two months! And I’ve had practically 2 years of experience being Spider-man!” Miles exclaimed, making incoherent gestures with his arms.

“Yeah, but this guy just has the vibes, y’know?” Pavitr explained, making contact with Miles’ shoulder, immediately making said boy stiffen. “Oh, my bad bro,” he apologized, releasing his hand.

Miles just grunted in acknowledgment turning his attention to the other spider-person in the room, who was just standing there awkwardly.

“Uhm, hi?” they said, giving him a shy wave.

Immediately Miles’ half lidded eyes shoot all the way open at the familiar voice that came out of their mouth.

“Mi corazón?”

— FLASHBACK

“Uhm, hi?” those were the exact words you spoke when you first met Miles.

You both had been partnered with each other by default since you both were absent the day the project way assigned. He barely responded to any of your advances of being better acquaintances.

It was hard to tell and pinpoint an exact time when your friendship started, but all Miles knew, is that he wasn’t letting go of your relationship till the day you died. Just as his beloved nickname of yours stated itself.

— END OF FLASHBACK

“Uh… Dude? Are you okay? Because I swear I heard you say, ‘My hea-‘“ Miles was quickly cut off by a hand slapping his mouth shut.

“Shut your goddamn mouth,” he stares into Miles’ eyes before adding a small: “Please,” almost unheard.

‘He said please?!’

Slowly nodding his head, Miles slowly turned towards the other spider-person.

“Oh! Right, this is Y/N! Our latest member of the spider-society,” Pavitr introduced, making Y/N remove their mask.

“Hi, like Pavitr said, I am Y/N. Nice to meet you both,” they gave a polite smile and reached their hand out to greet the two.

“I’m Miles, and this: is also Miles! Another version of me,” the boy in the black and red spider-costume greeted, taking Y/N’s outstretched hand.

“Or you’re another version of me,” the boy in purple grumbled, “You can just call me the Prowler.”

‘He’s avoiding eye contact… Did I do something wrong? Is he just, nervous? He doesn’t strike me as the type to get easily nervous by new people…’ Y/N’s eyes narrow in thought at the newly dubbed ‘Prowler.’

“Well, I’m gonna get lunch before any others get here, see y’all around,” they say before making the braided haired boy too uncomfortable, and walking to the stands.

“Dude, what was that?” Miles questioned.

“What’re you talkin’ bout’ man?”

“‘What am I talkin’ about?’ I’m talkin’ about the way you interacted with Y/N! You were lookin’ everywhere but them.”

“Jus’ drop it man,” he sighed before turning around, “Ima jus go find that bathroom you were talkin’ bout.”

Walking away, his mind drifted back towards you; the you he just met, the spider-you, the alive you. Squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head, he refused to go back down that road.

You were just a bittersweet memory after all.

[noramthe]

Venti x reader

HAPPY BIRTHDAY VENTI💚

Summery

You celebrate venti birthday. But maybe you worked a little to hard that you become really tired the whole time

Warnings

Fluff. Celebrating Venti birthday. Written with f!reader in mind. Kinda of comfort

Note

I’m so nervous first time sharing my writing><

This is so self indulgent but hope you enjoy nonetheless

Today is a special day. It’s your beloved’s partner’s birthday! You have been planning on gifts and dates for weeks.

You thought about how in your birthday, Venti made you a cake himself. So you decided to return the favor! But that’s not all.

You planned on spoiling him today.

While you are at the kitchen of your shared serenity pot, making the cake and smiling thinking about venti's reaction.

He always says that you don’t need to do anything on his birthday. But, how is that fair when he always does something for yours?

The place was decorated with happy birthday balloons and dandelions and cecilia flowers everywhere and candles.

You worked really hard on everything. You put the cake in the microwave. And then you started to realize how tired you are.

Though tired as you are stubborn i guess. You pushed through. This birthday has to be really special for venti.

You thought as a motivator for you to continue.

3 Hours later

Venti came back to the serenity pot humming.

Though everything seems really quiet, he ignored it and pushed the door to the front door.

Darkness.

The house was all dark. Wired? You and him never really turned it off. What’s go-

Suddenly the lights open and there was a loud popping sound.

“Surprise!!”

The familiar and lovely soft voice of his beloved. You came through. It didn’t escape him how tired you sound even when you tried to hide it.

“Woah!! Windbloom? This sure was a surprise”

His voice soft and full of love.

You giggled and smiled brightly to him.

“Happy birthday venti!”

He walked in your direction. And then put one hand in your waist and the other at your cheek

“You did all this for me..?”

Whispering in your ear. He turned to face you, his eyes looking at yours with love.

“How could i have been so lucky?”

He said again. Seemingly with a deeply appreciative tone. It made you chuckle from embarrassment of how deep your feelings are

“No Venti. I’m the lucky one. You deserve more then this”

You put your hand on top of the one on your cheek. Feeling his warm hand. Feeling his rough fingers from playing the lyre. Feeling his soft palm.

You spent the day at your house on the serenity pot. Celebrating together and playfully putting cake cream on each other’s face while giggling.

Everything went by so fast. It was already night time.

Venti took your hand and pulled you until you’re in your bedroom bed.

“Venti, why are you dragging me here?”

“To get some shut eye. Duh!”

“But.. the day still didn’t finish. We could go to other places and celeb-“

“Nope! We can do it in another day. For now, you have to rest”

Venti jumped into bed and pulled your arm for you to join him.

You sighed. You really wanted to not give in. But you were so exhausted you didn’t have the energy to try and argue with him. So you let him drag you with him to bed

“There we go~”

Softly saying it in a way that makes you feel more at ease. He put his arms around you and cuddled you closer to his chest

You shuffled a bit to get comfortable. He waited until you finished and adjusted his hold on you.

Hearing his breath so close to you was so comforting. You almost fell asleep immediately.

“Thnaks for today, windbloom. I had a really fun time being with you”

His Voice was muffled from his the bottom of his face being in the top of your head.

“Of course, my love. I just wish i had time to do all I planned. Sorry i didn’t have the chance to.”

“Don’t apologize my dear. Your rest is way more important.”

He hummed and rubbed his hand softly up and down your waist. It was so relaxing. Your eyes slowly closing and you feel like you’re going to dreamland.

You look forward to continuing your celebration tomorrow while you’re at more energy.

You smiled. Just thinking about how much fun venting had today. And how you will see him tomorrow as well hopefully, having more fun then today.

Venti then brought his other hand to touch your hair. The final straw to your already sleepy head to finally have a nice rest.

“Goodnight. My windbloom”

[boonsmoon]

Here I'll throw ya one. On another blog, they were chatting about Raditz with a crush, and now it's all I can think about. In most fics I've read he boinks Reader/Whoever pretty fast (and those fics are amazing and I love every bit of it), but I have been super curious about what it'd look like for him to slowly open up to and get a crush. How he'd act and all that.

Would he be all tsundere and deny it? Would he try and woo us (and probably fail miserably)?

i literally love this?? brainrotting over it now Raditz my beloved <3 im gonna bsffr, this was a self-indulgent piece

Request Chungus Masterlist Dragon Ball Masterlist Raditz x f!reader Genres: Headcanons|Fluff|Romantic

Raditz With A Crush

With a human crush:

so first of all- you're human, he's saiyan, and he sees a problem with this (even before the crush)

so i read on the saiyan wiki that saiyan men LOVE strong women, so you're very feisty and will absolutely butt heads with him, no questions asked

at first he's annoyed like "the AUDACITY of this human to oppose me???"

but then it kinda becomes a thing between yall and he's like "man the audacity lol" and he finds it kinda hot

more time passes and yall spend more time together before it passes the territory of "hey, friends don't do that!" and like everyone points it out (yes he survived the piccolo beam :3 or the dragon balls brought him back idk you choose)

but everyone starts to point out the staring and how he oddly is nicer to you🤨hmmmmm

at first for a few months he's like "me? with a human? grossss"

but then Goku and Vegeta are like "humans are kinda goated, we literally have kids with them" so Raditz does some self reflecting

he realizes that he'd totally get with you if you WERE a saiyan so maybe the human barrier is kinda dumb

after this conclusion he makes it his mission to make you fall madly in love with him

every fic i've read of this man portrays him as a frat boy or sex god, and while i LOVE that for him, i'm a firm believer he's an awkward loser when it comes to romance

he flirts with you but in the saiyan way and there are lots of mixed signals

"fight me!" "no?? hEY-" he's already trying to attack you :/

he eventually learns humans are "lame" and do "boring" things for romance, like movie dates or eating out (cringe, right?)

"h-hey human! wanna go to that p-place you keep talking about?" you're thinking for minute because?? THE Raditz stuttered? crazy

but he takes it wrong and assumes you don't want to, so it's a 5min argument convincing him to go💀

similar scenarios happen for a few more months and it literally eats him alive how slow this is moving, it's killing you too dw

after like a year of human dates he starts ranting because you point out that he seemed kinda tense lately

"well i don't know what i'm doing half the time on this planet, i have to live with being the weakest of my race, i can barely stand to be next to you without burning alive-" he kept ranting but your mind blanked after you heard that

with a smile you began to poke him "you likeee me" the HUMILIATION on this saiyans face "you like likeee me"

not how he hoped it'd go, but you two are very happy together :3

With a saiyan crush:

pretty sure it was in canon lore the only remaining saiyans were male, so um, you're the only surviving female, yippee?

you have many suitors to choose from, but uh, most weren't very appealing

and tbh, Vegeta was never an option, you were a peasant or whatever, so he was grossed out🤮couldn't properly carry out the royal bloodline i guess

because Raditz and you were both weak by saiyan standards, you were paired together often, strength in numbers, right?

this crush developed much faster purely because you bonded over:

similar experiences in society and on the battlefield

near death experiences bring people closer than you think

this doesnt mean he acted faster or accepted it any quicker

he was in denial at first because "she's just a friend!" hmmm ok bud

you two started getting split from each other and working with different partners which is what left him to fully realize his crush

this was mostly due to his jealousy of you spending a lot of time with someone other than him, and that he yearned for your presence often while gone

after figuring out "oh! i like her" instead of telling you, he hid it

not because he was scared no, but because he wasn't prepared for the emotional damage when one of you died and left the other to weather frieza's tyranny alone. he didn't want to be without you or leave you alone in this place

it was after he went to earth and nearly died to Kakarot and Piccolo he was like "erm, i'm gonna say something"

after making it back barely alive he eventually recovered and told you how he felt

his story of how strong earths warriors are made you question staying with the frieza force until it was safe to leave

once Vegeta and Nappa decided to invade earth, you and Raditz tagged along secretly and started to live happy lives as the weirdos next door :3

idk if i'll ever create headcanons as lengthy as these ever again

btw i have 2 Raditz fics in the works tee hee

[siilvan]

Desideria – I

Previous | Next

Pairing: Yuri Volkov/Mylène "Petra" Scholten de Ridder

Summary: Second meetings and first chances.

Genre: General, light angst, light fluff, fem!oc

Warnings: Semi-proofread, cursing, references to canon-typical violence, not much going on this time tbh

Word Count: 3k

Note: I got halfway through the next chapter of Bloodsport and rewarded myself with more self indulgent oc stuff... Bit of a shorter chapter than I wanted, but oh well (●'◡'●)

As always, very special thanks to my beloveds @sofasoap, @nrdmssgs, and @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot for their endless encouragement and support <3

"Lively group we've got here." Mylène comments, her narrowed gaze slowly dragging over the other people in the room.

Gathered were the remnants of the one-four-one. All but the pair of bright-eyed, effervescent siblings currently lying in hospital beds. Everything feels darker, somehow, like the sun had been eclipsed at its peak. The thought weighs heavily on those who remain, the silence at first only being broken by the sounds of fabric shuffling as people shifted their weight and the occasional quiet grunt or cough.

"You're lookin' lively yourself, Lt." Kyle is the second one to speak up, his eyes meeting hers from his spot leaned against the wall.

The hospital was charitable enough – or, more likely, Laswell had pulled some strings to 'convince' the staff – to leave a private meeting room empty for the group to gather.

"Okay, we're not going to get anywhere if we don't address the elephant in the room." Laswell interrupts the awkward banter with a low exhale. She's stood at the front of the room with her arms crossed tight over her chest, the tension in her muscles readily apparent to the other woman. "We're not in a good position right now. We're two down, out of leads, and out of intel on Makarov's next moves."

"Very hopeful start, Laswell. You should try being a motivational speaker." Kyle snorts, silently surrendering when her hard stare directs itself at him.

"Kyle." Price's unimpressed and, frankly, exhausted voice lightly scolds the sergeant. Kyle was the most bubbly one in the room, especially given how his only competition was Laswell, Price, Simon, and Mylène – all of whom look to be on the verge of snapping for different, yet related, reasons.

"Do we have anything at all to work with, Kate?" The captain shifts his attention back to the liaison; one of their only allies at the moment.

She takes her time before answering. Her ocean blue eyes are trained on the large, wooden, oval-shaped table in the center of the space, still in pristine condition due to none of them even daring to touch it. "Minimal resources." She starts, pausing to wet her lips. "As you all know by now, we're splitting up to utilize what little we have."

"John, Kyle, you're linking up with Farah's forces to try and gain some intel from within Urzikstan's borders. Ghost, you and Riot are heading to Mexico to follow up on a lead from Colonel Vargas." Laswell continues, taking another pause to meet the remaining lieutenant's mismatched eyes. "You've got a special assignment, Petra."

"So I've heard." Mylène huffs, her tone dry as her arms lift to cross over her chest.

"One of the few leads we have at the moment is on a smuggler – chemical weapons." Laswell states.

"Connected to the agents Konni Group's been drooling over since General Barkov was taken care of?" Mylène's eyebrows knit together, trying to recall any names of known smugglers. A few come to mind, none of which were reliable or still functional, but she mentally files them away nonetheless.

"Exactly that." Laswell nods, sliding a flash drive across the table, right into the other woman's waiting hand. "We don't have a name, just locations of the trades we've been able to confirm. The contact I got this from has already agreed to help with every step of the investigation."

Mylène turns over the USB stick in her hand, eyeing it curiously. "The contact, is it Colonel Volkov again?" She asks, turning to Laswell once more as she safely tucks the flash drive away.

"How'd you guess?"

"Vrag moyego vraga - moi drug." She echoed his prior words, the ones he spoke to the two women back in Arklov Base. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

The older woman lets out something of a chuckle and cracks a smile for the first time since she arrived. "Nikolai agreed to provide transport, at least for linking you up with Yuri. He'll be picking you up in about three hours."

"Three hours— why do none of you give me more time to prepare?" Mylène shoots a pointed look towards Laswell and Simon specifically and turns to walk out, but stops dead in her tracks before she can even take a single step towards the door.

"Someone should be staying with Johnny and Freya. They're still targets, even here." She says, sending the group a wary glance.

Riot was hovering over the siblings' bedsides at the moment, hence why she was missing the meeting, but she'll be leaving with Simon before the end of the day. They'll be left alone. Someone needs to stay with the two, just in case.

"We've already got that covered."

Mylène quirks a brow at Laswell's assured statement, until she hears the door behind her open and close with a soft click.

A tall, broad figure is standing in front of it, dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a black hoodie with the hood lowered, showing off a head of messy dark brown curls. A set of forest green eyes stare back at her, the rich color standing out against the dark circles under his eyes and the long, jagged scar running down the left side of his face. It starts just above his eyebrow and disappears into the black surgical mask he's wearing, giving some air of mystery despite her knowing exactly what exists underneath.

Emiel Scholten de Ridder. Nightfall.

To others, he may be an imposing character, but to Mylène, he's just her little brother. Well, little in age.

"Finally staying in one place for more than a few days?" She draws him into a tight hug with a gleeful smile on her lips.

"Seems like it." He chuckles into her hair, returning the hug for a few seconds. "She decided to pull me off my last assignment and station me here to keep an eye on things."

"I wanted the best on the job." Laswell clarifies, earning a confident nod from the younger woman. "Nightfall will stay in the hospital as long as Soap and Mini are here. They'll be safe." She adds and meets Mylène's gaze once more.

"If there are no more questions, then I'll let you get prepared."

"None at all, Watcher."

⋆⋆⋆

The heavy blades of the helicopter are a welcomed sight, whipping up a light breeze that blows the loose strands of hair framing Petra's back as the vehicle descends.

She wastes no time in approaching it and sliding the side door back, stepping up into the cabin. The door shuts behind her with another heavy thud, leaving her standing in a UH-60 Black Hawk so familiar that she might as well call it her second home.

"Good to see you in one piece, Mila!" Nikolai calls out over his shoulder. Petra turns to flash him a smile, carefully setting her backpack against a wall before coming up to the cockpit.

"Thought Makarov took me out of commission, too?" She hums, calmly settling in the co-pilot's seat next to his.

"You? Of course not." He laughs, hearty and full of life. It was refreshing after spending so much time in the hospital. "I am just happy to see you doing well, my friend." He adds once the laughter dies down, the helicopter taking off just as quickly as it had landed.

Petra shifts in her seat in anticipation for the longer flight. "I'm assuming we're not meeting Colonel Volkov at Arklov Base again?" She asks with a soft laugh of her own.

"Unless you are willing to brave sarin gas, then, no." Nikolai comments. "He's in Zaporizhzhia."

"Zaporizhzhia?"

"Melitopol, to be exact." He clarifies, intentionally slowing his speech and harshly pronouncing each syllable with a cheeky grin.

"Fucks sake, I know what it is." She huffs, ignoring his amused snort as she shakes her head. "What's he doing in southern Ukraine?"

"Waiting for us, probably." He shrugs with the sarcastic response. "Did Laswell send you in with any information on this op?"

"Yeah, actually, thanks for the reminder." Petra jumps up from her seat and shuffles over to her bag, unzipping it and pulling a tablet out. She plops down in her seat again after a moment, scrolling through the pages of intel that she transferred from the flash drive that Laswell gave her before she left.

Like she said before, it was mostly locations of confirmed trades between the yet-unnamed smuggler and Konni Group. There was an attempt at pinpointing his home base, but the locations were too scattered all over the map to centralize them. Unsurprisingly, a decent amount of the trades happened in Eastern Europe – they already knew it was Konni Group's playground, though, so it gave her nothing about the smuggler himself.

"Maybe he knows something that we don't." Petra mumbles, half to herself and half to the pilot. "The next deal could be happening in Ukraine." She adds.

"Suppose we won't know until we talk with him." Nikolai comments, earning an affirmative hum from her. A second passes before he speaks again. "When was the last time you slept?"

She blinks, her gaze flitting up from the screen and landing on him. "What?"

"Sleep? The thing most people do at night?" He explains, completely ignoring the way she rolls her eyes as soon as he starts. "When you close your eyes and dream of handsome pilots who always come through to help you in your times of need?"

"Having romantic dreams about yourself again, Nik?" She quirks a brow at him. "And, I'm fine. I slept—"

She cuts herself off, her lashes fluttering as she blinks a few more times. Her eyes drop to the tablet sitting on her thighs, unfocused on the screen as it slowly darkens before shutting itself off.

"...Some time recently." She mutters after a few seconds.

"We'll be up here for a while, you will have plenty of time to agonize over those files after we land. Get some rest while you still can, Mila." His voice softens, the previous humor in it dissipating and making room for a genuine concern that she only heard in certain moments.

Still, she argues. There was just too much for her to do. "But, I—"

"My bird, my rules. Get some rest." Nikolai replies without missing a beat. He doesn't even look at her while giving the command, nonchalantly glancing over a few gauges and dials like it was natural for him. Well, it was probably as natural as breathing at this point.

With a sigh comparable to that of a child getting sent to bed, she concedes. "Fine, just wake me up before we land." Petra shifts and gets into a more comfortable position, the tablet forgotten on the panel as she semi-awkwardly curls up and eventually finds a way to drift off into a light sleep.

⋆⋆⋆

The telltale sound of the helicopter descending is what wakes her up, eventually. Petra rubs the sleep out of her eyes before it touches down and hurries to grab the tablet, maneuvering back to her backpack and shoving it inside.

"Melitopol, safe and sound." Nikolai announces, stepping out of the cockpit after shutting everything down.

"Didn't doubt you for even a second." She slips her backpack on with a slow exhale and follows the pilot out onto the tarmac.

The sun was starting to crest over the horizon, spilling a healthy balance of oranges, reds, yellows, and pink hues all over the sky above. The location they had landed at was some sort of base – not necessarily military, judging by the lack of a uniform… well, uniform, amongst the few people gracing the small airfield. Mercenaries, she assumes.

"So, where are we meeting him?" She asks, carefully examining her surroundings.

"Right here, if that works for you."

Petra turns when she hears the familiar voice, gravelly and rich, and sees the man himself approaching them.

"Colonel Volkov, always good to see a friendly face." She greets him, stepping forward to meet him and holding out her hand.

"Please, there is no need for formalities." He chuckles, shaking her hand far more gently than she was used to. "Just call me Yuri."

"Yuri. That works for me." A bright smile flashes across her face as his name leaves her lips.

It's right then and there that something in the back of the colonel's mind changes, begging him to only have his name spoken that way from now on. Spoken by her. He tries to ignore that feeling, especially as the other Russian in the group catches his attention.

"Yuri, my brother." Nikolai shares his own cheerful greeting with the man, one that’s eagerly reciprocated as the two hug briefly.

"It's been too long, my friend." Yuri comments, patting his shoulder one last time as the two part.

"You two have known each other for a long time?" Petra quirks a brow at the pair as Yuri starts to lead them to a car nearby. He fishes a set of keys out of his pocket – he’s in civvies, she realizes. Dark jeans and a navy blue windbreaker, with the collar of a simple black shirt peeking out from underneath – and tosses them to Nikolai.

"Something like that." Nikolai slides into the driver’s seat after catching the keys. The other two circle around to the passengers’ side, where Petra reaches out to open the door for herself. Yuri beats her to it, though, and he holds the door open while she slips into the backseat. He sits in the front, leaving her to lean forward and poke her head between the two men.

"So, where are we heading from here?" She chirps, realizing but refusing to admit just how much that short nap on the helicopter helped her. For the first time in weeks, she feels like she has some energy.

"South, past the border." Yuri replies, his low voice rumbling right next to her ear.

Wait, what? "The border? We're heading into Crimea?"

"I am assuming Laswell gave you the information I delivered to her." He continues, turning his head just enough to meet her confused gaze. "The smuggler working with Konni Group isn't the one we are going after, since he hardly shows his face for these trades, but the man who facilitates most of the deals should be here for an upcoming one."

She hums. "When is it?"

The car pulls onto a road after leaving the base, quiet and mostly vacant of any other vehicles as the light of the sun slowly begins to fade from the sky. Moving in the dark. It's smart. Petra had already sat back in her seat before reaching into her bag, lazily dropped next to her. She fishes her tablet out, deciding to give the information a thorough scan, unlike her cursory glance in the helicopter.

"Three days from now. Not sure what time." Yuri mutters. "I have my own contact coming into town tomorrow to assist. FSB."

"FSB? Are you sure they can be trusted with this?" She huffs, raising her brows again as she looks at the side of his face.

He makes a small sound, akin to a curt chuckle. "Trust me, he is reliable. He's bringing information on our broker and claims to hate him just as much as we do."

"Do we even have a name for our target? Laswell couldn't give me one." She blinks, wracking her brain again for any known smugglers.

He shrugs, the quiet rustling of fabric his only answer for a brief moment. "We will tomorrow."

Petra accepts his response with a nod and a muted sigh. The drive to the border would be at least another few hours, and she was sure that crossing it would end up being some elaborate scheme to avoid detection by the border patrol. In any case, she buries her nose in file after file while Nikolai chats the other Russian's ear off.

At one point during the drive, already over an hour in, the pilot was spinning some recent tale about his nebo that she halfway tunes in for. Her eyes flit up after he says something about her "kicking his ass" and, after a low snort that she denies when he points it out, her gaze drifts to the rear-view mirror. Curiosity, the instinct to check the road behind them without making a scene, some random desire to look at herself – she isn't sure what motivates her to do it, but when she meets a pair of steel blue irides in the reflection, she freezes.

Yuri, in his silence only broken by muttered "oh's," "ah's," and quiet hums whenever Nikolai badgered him enough for a response, was eyeing her in the mirror.

And, here she was, meeting his gaze and staring back just the same. They already had a moment like this once before: at Arklov Base, before the missiles hit and disrupted the meeting Laswell had stolen her away from her team for. There was some kind of energy, a spark, even, that seemed to keep drawing their attentions back to each other, even with a woman discussing a potential world war brewing or a man actively attempting to steal the show right next to them.

She would deny the faint shiver creeping down her spine, just as he would deny the subtle electricity beneath his skin forcing him to flex his hands. They break eye contact at the same time, with his moving to the road ahead as hers drops down to her screen once more.

There is one thing Petra can tell already, as she quietly raps her fingers against her thigh and attempts to distract her mind. This mission is going to be more trouble than it's worth.

Vrag moyego vraga - moi drug. (Враг моего врага - мой друг.) - The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Mila - Slavic diminutive of Mylène

Nebo (Небо) - Sky

[jeongintwenty3]

stars

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: fluff

summary: some self-indulgent fluff in regards of our flour boy’s birthday

warnings: none

author’s note: hiiii! thank you for always sticking around although sometimes i tend to be inactive here, hehe. send me asks, requests or anything! they keep me going <3

————————————————————————

It was eleven past fifty-three at night, and the two were seemingly driving off somewhere, but hell was it noisy. “Are you going to throw me out to the ocean? Or are you going to butcher me into bite-sized pieces for you to feast on later?” – those were the questions tumbling out of Hyunjin’s lips. Him being the passenger princess – or prince, happens once in a blue moon. But whenever it happens, he just can’t seem to keep his mouth shut.

“I might do just that if you keep on spewing nonsense,” you threatened light-heartedly.

The two of you arrived at the beach, the place where you both seeked comfort, the place where you can finally have a peace of mind, the place where you can unwind.

“I really am concerned, love. What are we doing here in the middle of the night?” Hyunjin rambled, the cold wind biting through his sweater.

Looking back at his beloved, Hyunjin’s mind went into overdrive – there was his woman and the SUV’S boot displaying an array of gifts – from luxury bags, accessories, shoes, balloons, gift coupons, you mention it. Seeing the lack of response from your boyfriend, you panicked a little; did you do something wrong? Your train of thoughts were cut short when he felt his body enveloping yours in a warm hug, endless mutters of thank yous were heard, kisses were felt here and there.

“Happy birthday, handsome. May this be one of the many birthdays we get to spend together, hmm?”

“Thank you, beautiful. I love you, so so much,” he replied. Loss with words, he leaned forward — capturing both of your lips into a dance full of affection.

It’s been thirty minutes since the two of you sat and looked out into the darkness of the night, the occasional sounds of waves crashing accompanying them. You’d be lying if you didn’t feel a pair of eyes looking right at her the whole time, prompting a pink tint kissing your two cheeks. Gathering all the courage you had, you looked right back at him, reciprocating the stare full of fondness.

“You know, you look like you have the stars in your eyes,” you blurted out, you may or may not have stared a tad bit too long at your beloved’s face and gotten a little bit love-drunk.

A small smile made its way to his pink lips, he replied, “The stars you see in my eyes are the reflection of you – my bright and shining star, my one and only star.”

[writtenontheport]

Walk Me Home?

George Karim x (gn) Reader

Part 3: As the days go by (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt. 4)

Warnings/Tags: Reader is not an agent, Slow burn I think!!, Lucy and Lockwood being little shits my beloveds <3, Reader is an exchange student from abroad (vague), uhhhh I’m blanking but this is mostly fluff and self-indulgent, nerd Reader, Risking your life for the bit if the bit was knowledge

Notes: I CAVED. I could not go another day without writing an exchange student reader, physically hurt me not to 😔

Summary: George finds out that risking your life is a thing many people do; chief among them being the very people he cares about most. You’re no different, but at least you aren’t fighting ghosts. That’s a start.

Word count: 1.3k+

George settles into a schedule that slots you into his life with ease. You slide into the repertoire of his thoughts as if you’d always been there, waiting patiently to be noticed.

Every single thing in the world had a challenge, and yet the only thing you came with was a smile and a promise. Even Lockwood and Lucy had their own challenges; the challenge of keeping them alive chief among them. It was a challenge he understood and accepted with their line of work, but to finally meet someone mostly unattached to such a risk… It was strange.

You had come from abroad, far enough that news of the Problem was near non-existent and were not an agent. When visiting the British Isles for the first time, the Problem had barely been explained to you in anything other than harsh whispers and frustrated advice. This, you had told him, just a few weeks after you met.

“Everyone was so hurried all the time to get anywhere, and then, after curfew, London would be a ghost itself,” You told him once, sitting across from him at the same table you’d shared for months now. “When I had to go back home, I put in a request at my school to be part of an exchange programme. I can still remember how surprised the Dean looked when I told him I wanted to go to Britain.”

George understood why that was, shrugging lamely as he flipped to the next page of his book, “I wouldn’t send anybody here if where I lived didn’t have the threat of Visitors constantly over my head. I would send myself, but that’s out of scholarly interest.”

You chuckle lightly at the comment. “I ended up doing just that, so I can’t blame you.”

George hums in response, eyebrows lifting in the manner they do when he’s agreeable. “Must’ve been easy to find an exchange though…”

“Oh, very,” You say easily, “In fact some of the parents started sending me letters as soon as they found out someone was applying to exchange. Had very enticing terms they did— basically promised me a dowry, some of them. I didn’t even have to marry anyone.”

“Well I hope you took it,” he laughs, resting his cheek against his hand as he looks up at you, watching the light catch your eyes like a twinkling star, “Would be a pity if you didn’t.”

“I did,” you reply, mirroring him with your opposite hand as your sparkling gaze trails where your fingers nearly touch. His eyes drop to where you bump a knuckle into against his fist, and something curls in warm delight in his chest.

You don’t say anything more, and he’s too distracted to pick the conversation back up before you’re both packing to leave. Over the months, your visits to the library have gotten longer, and your walks take up enough time that he makes it back to Portland Row just as curfew’s setting in. Lucy and Lockwood always greet him like the cunning wolves they are, hungry for a scrap of gossip. Lockwood, he expected this from— the man reads gossip magazines as a hobby after all— but Lucy’s prodding seems to mostly come from a genuine interest in his life. For all their bickering, he knew Lockwood and Lucy truly just cared about his wellbeing.

So, a month or so into your… shared library visits, as he’d taken to calling them, he started to fill the two in on a few details. Sometimes they’re small things, like your favourite colour or the last fiction book you’d read, but other times he’d give a little more and tell them things like: ‘They’re from abroad’ or ‘They’re here, willingly, on an exchange program’. They wouldn’t get off his back for days when he told them the Problem was what kept you in Britain after your initial visit.

“You two are basically made for each other,” Lockwood coos, and George swats him on the chest for it. “Risking your lives for research and study and all that.”

“He’s right, if I hadn’t grown up with it, I certainly wouldn’t have sent myself into it,” Lucy adds, sitting far enough away that George can only glare at her. She holds up both hands in surrender, but looks at him intently.

George deflates a little against the table as he plops down, thinking over the fact you might just be as reckless as the two martyrs-in-the-making in front of him (as reckless as himself, though he would never admit it). It doesn’t genuinely disappoint him, but he likes to give Lockwood and Lucy the idea that recklessness is not a good trait by exaggerating his disapproval. Still, he preens at the thought that you really would fit right into their little home here in Portland Row.

“Where do they live for now, anyway?” Lucy asks around a mouthful of supper, doodling into the thinking cloth with every chew.

“Someplace North of the library, always took us 10 minutes to walk there.”

“You walk them home?” Lockwood asks, giddily smiling as if this was his library rendezvous they were talking about. George ignores him without so much as a glance.

“They’re living with an older couple raising their grandkid, who’s now been sent off to live elsewhere for the duration of the program,” he says instead.

“Now hold on—“

“George, you didn’t answer my—“

He tunes them out a little as he hides behind an old newspaper he’d brought to the table. It would be easy to just tune them out for the whole night (heavens know he’s done it more than once when their arguing got too loud), but something about you… always, always had him talking. It was as if the thought of you lit a fire in his lungs and he needed to talk about you to let the smoke clear, your smile a spark to light the flames.

“Yes, I walk them home,” He finally relents, dropping the newspaper to glare at them both. It doesn’t stop the twin grins from growing on their faces, but the admission makes something flare in the cavity of his chest. Smoke, fire, far-off stars, and peace from abroad; you really were giving him the world and more just by being in his.

“Would you fancy coming round one of these days?” he whispers to you, pinkie wrapped around yours. It’d been a week or two since you bumped a knuckle against his hand, and you had steadily built up to holding each other’s pinkies while reading across from each other.

You look up at him, and sparks fill his lungs with quick fire. “To your agency?”

“Yeah, Lucy and Lockwood have been bugging me to introduce you, but I’ve been putting them off because they can be… a lot.” He tugs on your pinkie absentmindedly, and your eyes flit at the motion. Something preens in his chest as you tug on his pinkie in return.

“If they’re anywhere as lovely as you, I’m sure we’d get on well. Intense or not.” Your smile catches in the light, popping against the bleak library walls and tall bookshelves. “Not today, but maybe we can set up a time when?”

George feels thankful you even said yes, with all that he’s told you about the two of them (he does not voice this). “Absolutely.”

When it’s time to walk home, you don’t ask anymore if he’d walk with you to avoid someone. Instead, you link pinkies, and walk the cobble streets back with the sun on the horizon. Unbeknownst to him, whose fires rage in the cavity of his lungs at your smile, your heart hammers against the bones of your ribs at his.

“Meet again tomorrow?” You ask, hopeful as ever with your glittering eyes.

“As long as you’ll be there,” he responds easily, a smile finding its way onto his lips.

A/N: I caved. I gave reader a lil bit of backstory. I hadn’t meant to, but UGH I just love exchange student au. Anyways, sorry this took so long, I was in the midst of a personal sweets shortage and lost the motivation to write (I am not joking 😭) hope you fellow George lovers sleep a good night with your pillow cold <333