#these ones might be the last ones for a bit

[hanniescookie]

adore you - yjh

—⁠☆ you meet your boyfriend after three weeks.

pairing - jeonghan x f!reader

genre/warnings - idol au, fluff, romance, military jeonghan cus i'm obsessed, kissing, use of petnames, reunion after three weeks of separation lololol, self aware king jeonghan, lil bit of yearning ¿

wc - 898

A/N - i adore hannie in a uniform, i adore his entire existence if y'all don't know already. of course i had to write something about today!! i love him so much, he heals me everyday (⁠･ั⁠ω⁠･ั⁠)

A pair of warm, familiar hands shield your eyes from behind and all the restlessness that had accumulated in your body releases at once.

You don't gasp, don't flinch. Your mouth exhales a sigh of contentment, and your lips curl up in what your boyfriend calls a sulky smile. Your hands curl around the bouquet of flowers you've been holding as you lean back against the body behind you, practically letting go of your own weight.

“Hannie.” You mutter, and hear a giggle right next to your ear. It makes you smile harder, your heart dancing in excitement.

“You got me, angel.” He says, dropping his hands to hold you steady by your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. One of his hands rounds you to touch the flowers you've brought, and you can feel him smiling beside your face. “Flowers? For me? Or do you have any other trainees to meet here?”

You click your tongue, unable to help the giddiness in your stomach. Hearing his voice, feeling his warmth, having him near you—it’s all a little overwhelming after a grand total of three weeks. However, you keep your tears hidden in fear of being teased by him.

“I'm only here for my boyfriend.” You say, staring at his hand that's caressing the flower petals. You wish to hold it, but somehow, you're a little too occupied with how peaceful you feel in his hold. Watching his ceremony from afar put you at ease already, healing something inside you that you didn't even know had broken since he left. But it also made you restless, not being able to wait till you could see him, hold him, kiss him.

However, now that he's here, you feel like all common sense has fled out of your body, You can only lean against him, let him hold you, and feel him.

“Really, now?” Jeonghan speaks in a low voice, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “The boyfriend you won't even look at?”

You shut your eyes, letting your smile widen. Your hand is trembling a little as you reach out and keep it above his large one. Somehow, it looks even bigger than the last time you'd held it.

“I missed my boyfriend a lot.” You utter, bringing his hand up and kissing it. “God forbid a girl is scared to look at the said boyfriend.”

You hear Jeonghan laugh, his neck craning to try and look at your face. “Hey, why would you be scared?”

You shut your eyes, shifting the bouquet to one hand and lifting the other to move his face away. “Don't look at me. I don't wanna cry.”

Jeonghan coos at you, holding you tighter with both his arms and pressing a chaste kiss in the crook of your neck. “It's okay, angel. You can cry if you want to. But at least look at me?”

You pout, your eyes instantly welling up with tears as you shake your head, quickly turning in his hold. The moment your eyes meet his, you shut them tight, taking a deep breath and then opening them again to see his smiling face.

God, it's unfair how beautiful he is.

Surprisingly, despite the tears of overwhlem in your eyes, you mirror his gorgeous smile.

“I missed you too,” he says against your forehead, softly pressing a kiss against your skin. “So much. I might cry too.”

You've known Jeonghan enough to tell that he's missed you, but he's only saying this so you don't feel stupid about crying. That alone makes you shed a tear as you tiptoe and wrap your arms tightly around his neck. As part of his muscle memory, he hugs you back, stuffing his head in your shoulder. His hand cradles your head, softly threading your hair every second. “You're not even crying.”

“I thought you hated to see me cry,” you sniff, pressing yourself more against him to feel his warmth as much as you can. He chuckles, kissing your shoulder blade. “Not when you're crying because you nearly died from missing me.”

You pull back, frowning and hitting him with a fist. “Stop being like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like the world revolves around you.”

“Yours does.”

You open your mouth to argue, but any words of retaliation die down on your tongue. How are you supposed to deny that? All your three weeks worth of sadness have washed away just with one glimpse of him. Your world indeed revolves around him.

He giggles, taking the flower bouquet from you and handing you a photograph instead. You furrow your brows, staring down at your hand to see a picture of you that he had taken out from his pocket.

He places a gentle kiss on your lips, holding your chin between his thumb and index finger, before smiling softly. “My world revolves around you too, angel.”

The surge of emotions that course through your body is insane, and you instantly smile, holding his face between your palms and pecking him. “I adore you, hannie.”

He smiles, rubbing his nose against yours. “Mhm, I know. I adore you too, angel.”

And you know, no matter how many wounds cut through you, you'll always heal as long as Jeonghan is beside you. No matter how many weeks you spend apart from him, your comfort will find you in his form, always.

[straylightdream]

I like you, maybe

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeon wonwoo x afb.reader

an invited to your estranged father’s wedding leaving you scrambling to find a fake boyfriend.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): friends to lovers, mutual pining, romance, comfort, angst, smut, fake dating

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10k

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: daddy issues, family issues, angst, fake dating, alcohol consumption, crying, lots of emotions

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: protected p in v, vanilla sweet smut, breast/nipple play, fingering, clit play, hand job

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw

𝐚𝐧: thank you @aeristudios for helping me name this and @vampsol for the beautiful banner. Thank you @cheers-to-you-th & @supi-wupi for beta reading. This is an older story that I have been wanting to rewrite for the longest time.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

At age eleven you learned the harsh reality that not all marriages work out. On one warm June afternoon you walked into the kitchen in the home you grew up in to find your parents in the middle of an argument. Your mother tearfully informed you that your mother and father were getting divorced. Your father left that day and you didn’t see him for about two months. When he finally came back around, you got to meet his new girlfriend that he had an affair with. At age eleven you built up walls around your heart without even trying. You learned a harsh lesson that love might not actually exist.

Sitting in Mingyu’s apartment you sat at the kitchen table working on your presentation for your. Your phone vibrated and you looked down to see a text from your father. As you read over the text, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. It’s rare your father actually texts you, and honestly when he does you tend to be left being annoyed.

Mingyu watched as you groaned while reading something. “What are you annoyed about?” he asked before taking a drink from the bottle of beer that was sitting on the table. He tended to be able to read you like an open book.

“Well my father is getting married in two weeks and just decided to let me know,” you sighed. You weren’t exactly surprised that he was getting married. You had met his girlfriend who you assumed was his new fiancé a few times. You weren’t exactly the biggest fan of hers. She was quite a bit younger than your father and pretty stuck up.

To say that your relationship with her father was stranded would be an understatement. When you were thirteen, he attempted to see you one weekend every month. He soon learned that he didn’t have much in common with you, and he went back to occasionally having dinner with you like once a month. In the last year he had only seen you maybe three times max. You didn’t even know that he was engaged to his new girlfriend—you barely even really knew her.

“Are you going to go?” Mingyu asked, knowing that you don’t have a great relationship with your father. There had been a handful of drunken nights, where you had breakdowns over the feeling that your father was never going to truly love you. You always felt as if you were never good enough for your father. No one saw you truly upset over your relationship with your father other than Mingyu and Wonwoo.

“I don’t think I have a choice, if I don’t go, my grandma, and dad won’t let me live it down.” You sighed. You’ve contemplated going no contact but you knew it would be hard. There is this part of you that thinks if you try hard enough maybe one day your relationship could be fixed. “Oh my god I don’t want to go to this alone.” You knew that this wedding was going to be a lot of people asking you why you’re single, and if you’re going to have kids. All your cousins were married and had kids, and you’re the only single one. Every Christmas— one of the few times you would see that side of the family—everyone would always harp on you,asking a million questions about your life.

“You should have someone go with you,” Mingyu said, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Do you want to go with me?” you asked, praying maybe Mingyu could save you from going to this alone. You knew that Mingyu could play the part as the perfect boyfriend. Your mother already loved him and constantly told you that you should date someone like Mingyu. You knew your father would love him too. He’s a parent’s dream partner for their daughter.

“I can’t because it’s my mom’s birthday that weekend so I’m going to be at a family event out of town,” he said. You could hear the guilt in his voice, could tell that he didn't want to send you alone but wasn't able to help.

“Literally everyone is going to be in my business about not having a boyfriend. I need to get a date within the next two weeks,” you said with a sarcastic laugh knowing damn well that was going to be nearly impossible.

“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo asked, walking into the kitchen. He sat down next to Mingyu and looked over at you, pushing up his glasses. You had completely forgotten Wonwoo was home. He’d been locked away in his room playing video games.

You explained your situation to him, leaning forward to rest your face in your hands with a sigh.

“So, you want someone to be your fake date?” Wonwoo asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Bingo,” Mingyu replied before taking another drink of his beer., having given up on doing his own work long ago.

Wonwoo shrugged “I mean I can go with you if you want. I think I would make a pretty good fake boyfriend.”

You looked up at Wonwoo and knit your eyebrows together and stared at him wondering if he was serious.“Really? You’d do that?” You couldn’t handle it if he's just messing with you.

He shrugged his shoulders again, oh so casual. “Yeah, why not? Weddings are great; free food, free drinks, what’s not to love?”

Shutting your laptop, you looked over at Wonwoo who was smiling. “Jeon Wonwoo, you’re a lifesaver.”

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked, giving you a calming smile.

“Well, the venue is two hours away so my dad’s booking me a room for the weekend, I’ll let him know I’m bringing my boyfriend.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The weekend of the wedding rolled around, the two hour drive filled with your anxieties. You couldn’t lie, you were pretty nervous about bringing Wonwoo as your fake boyfriend. You hated bringing dates to your family events, especially your dad’s side of the family. Especially your dad’s side of the family, who was prone to asking inappropriate questions and stick their noses into your business.

“So how long have we been dating?” Wonwoo asked as he kept driving. Snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts.

You looked over at him and realized that you needed to come up with a story on your relationship; how, when, where you met. , having planned on just winging it— not your best idea. Luckily Wonwoo knew you needed to have a game plan.

“I guess we can say six months that way I can say we started dating after Christmas.” You replied, not needing them grilling you for not mentioning him back then.

“Okay, sounds good, are we saying that we were friends before we started dating?” he asked.

“Yeah I think that sounds good? Maybe we can say Mingyu pointed out we would make a good pair.”

“Your father has met Mingyu before, right?”

“Yeah he’s met him before. He loves Mingyu.”

“All parents love Mingyu.” He let out a soft laugh.

“Alright, Mingyu thought we’d be good together so I decided to pursue you,” you began, “we started dating six months ago, a bit after Christmas. Sounds like a plan.”

You liked that Wonwoo was putting effort into your half-assed plan, thinking of things you hadn’t. You could tell he was taking the trip seriously, putting you at ease.

You arrived at the fancy hotel that your father was getting married at. Wonwoo got out of the car and walked over to help you get out of the car. He popped the trunk open and walked over to get both of your suitcases. You feel as if you’re in autopilot mode. You were a one track mind on just getting through this weekend. You went to walk inside, but before you could walk away Wonwoo reached down and grabbed your hand. You stopped immediately and looked down at yours and Wonwoo’s hand. Holding his hand feels safe and warm. He gave you a small smile and nodded. Having Wonwoo here with you felt like a sense of protection.

You walked into the hotel lobby and were greeted instantly by your dad and his new young wife. The nerves suddenly kicked in as they started walking your way. How are you supposed to lie to them all weekend and pretend Wonwoo has been your boyfriend for six months.

“Sweetie, I’m so glad you’re here,” your future stepmom said as she wrapped her arms around you. She pulled you into a tight hug. You dropped Wonwoo’s hand and looked over at him with startled eyes. You weren't exactly a fan of Dea. You thought she was shallow and you weren’t exactly a fan of the fact that she was barely ten years older than you. Dea let go of you and walked over and wrapped her arms around an unexpected Wonwoo. “You must be her boyfriend, Wonwoo.”

“Yep,” Wonwoo said awkwardly.

Dea let go of Wonwoo and walked over and stood next to her dad. “I’m glad you came sweetie” he said knowing that there was a chance you wouldn’t come to this wedding. Anyone with eyes can tell you and your father’s relationship is extremely strained. Your father might try and sugar coat what happened, but it’s is very much common knowledge he had an affair and cheated on your mother.

“Which room are we in?” You desperately need to escape this conversation. You need to get away from your dad and Dea. Peace and quiet while unwinding with Wonwoo sounds like an absolute dream.

“You guys are on floor three in room 389,” he said, reaching into his pocket to pull out yours and Wonwoo’s room keys.

“Thanks,” you snagged the room key.

You reached down and took Wonwoo’s hand, leading him over to the elevator. The moment you were in the elevator and the doors shut you let out a sigh of relief. Suddenly all the tension in your body dissipates. Leaning against the wall you looked up at Wonwoo wondering if he regretted coming along on this trip. He probably had no idea how awkward things are between you and your father.

“Dea is very young?” he said, breaking the silence between you. He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Yeah my dad likes them younger than him,” you let out a soft laugh. The elevator dinged and the doors opened, and you walked down the hall towards their room. Opening the door, you’re greeted to the sight of a single queen size bed in the middle of the room. You looked over at Wonwoo as he sat his suitcase down. Of course there is only one bed. For some reason you didn’t think about the fact you were going to have to share a bed.

You must look like an idiot just standing there staring at the bed. “I can sleep on the couch if you want,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts. Walking over and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Wonwoo were both adults. We can share the bed.”

You’ve definitely had sleep overs at his and Mingyu’s place after long nights. The idea of sharing a bed with a male friend shouldn’t be weird. The only issue with that is you couldn’t lie, you've always had somewhat of a crush on Wonwoo since you met him freshman year. He was a handsome guy and was super charming, but Wonwoo had always been somewhat of a heartbreaker. There are stories on campus about girls falling hard for the boy you’re sharing a bed with. There is also the minor detail, you don’t think that Wonwoo would ever have feelings for you. As soon as you realize you developed feelings for him you push them away. This little voice inside of you told you, if you didn’t have feelings for him, you couldn’t get hurt.

“Okay, I don’t mind sharing the bed at all.”

You walked over and sat down next to him on the bed. He reached over and laced his fingers with your and gently squeezed your hand three times. Mingyu does this when he knows you need to calm down. It’s sweet that Wonwoo does the same thing.

“You’re going to get through this weekend. I’ll be here the whole time with you. I’ll be there to hold your hand whenever things get rough.” Since your dad left things haven’t been the easiest. You’re definitely quite guarded and all your romantic relationships haven't worked out. Mingyu has been the only constant in your life since you were sixteen. He’s not a romantic interest for you, but he’s the best friend you could ask for. He understands why you’re so guarded and has never judged or said anything about it. Before he introduced you to his college roommate turned other best friend Wonwoo, he told you Wonwoo would look out for you just like he does. He wasn’t wrong, Wonwoo became another stable fixture in your life.

Looking over at Wonwoo, he’s giving you a soft smile, letting you know that this is going to be okay. That he was here to support you through all this. With Mingyu and Wonwoo in your life you’re never alone.

“This is going to be an interesting weekend.”

You spent time in your room for a few hours. Wonwoo took a nap while you sat at the small table that was placed in front of the window with your laptop in front of you. You took this time to work on a few projects you had for summer school classes.

As the sun started to set, you knew that Wonwoo and you were going to have to get ready to go to the rehearsal dinner. This was going to be the moment when the rest of your family saw you with Wonwoo. You stood in the bathroom putting on makeup as Wonwoo was getting dressed. You did your hair nicely and got dressed in a pale pink dress you bought just for the rehearsal dinner. Walking into the bedroom you found Wonwoo sitting on the bed looking at his phone. He was dressed in a pair of grey dress pants, and white dress shirt without a tie. God he’s so handsome.

As he looked up he pushed his glasses on the bridge of his nose. His bright eyes locked onto yours, he couldn’t help but smile. “You look beautiful.” He stood up and walked over to you.

Hand in hand you walked to the rehearsal dinner, it’s being held in the lavish ballroom that was connected to the hotel. The whole time you were attending the dinner, Wonwoo rarely left your side. He was either holding your hand or his hand was resting on the small of your back. Letting you know that he was always with you. He braved all of your family as every single one of them came up to badger the happy “couple” with a million questions. As your grandmother came up for her round of nosy questions, you have never been happier in your life to have Wonwoo by your side.

Your grandmother seemed to instantly love Wonwoo. Honestly though, who could blame her? Wonwoo was extremely charming and seemed to know the correct answer to every question your grandmother seemed to throw at him. The night couldn’t have gone better. A weight felt as if it had been lifted off your shoulders.

As the dinner ended the two of you made your way back to your room. The moment the door was shut Wonwoo untucked his shirt and started unbuttoning it. You walked over and sat on the edge of the bed taking a moment to relax before you started getting ready for bed. The slight of Wonwoo’s bare torso was hard to look away from. He looks absolutely breathtaking. Looking up you find Wonwoo staring back at you with a smile plastered across his face. A flash of red hot embarrassment hits you like a tidal wave. The fact that he blatantly caught you oagling half naked body makes you want to curl up under the covers and hide.

He didn’t bother saying anything, he knew that you seemed quite embarrassed by how bright your cheeks were burning, after he caught your wandering eyes. Biting his lip, he held back a soft laugh.

The room suddenly felt so small. Jumping up you rushed off to the bathroom with the excuse you need to remove your makeup and brush your teeth.

Standing in the bathroom you take this time alone to try and ground yourself. This whole weekend feels like one big mind game. Removing your makeup, you splashed water on your face. Looking into the mirror you whispered to yourself, “you don’t like him. This whole thing isn’t real, he’s flirting and acting nice because he’s your fake boyfriend.” You need to put these feelings to a halt immediately. You aren't allowed to let your little crush on him develop into something more. That’s going to do nothing but break your heart.

Getting dressed in your pajamas, you walked back into the bedroom. Wonwoo is already comfortably under the covers lying down scrolling through his phone. Maybe you should just sleep on the couch for the night. Sharing a bed with Wonwoo could make things awkward. Being so close to him while he slept only in pajama pants might just be too much for you.

Before you could even say anything, Wonwoo spoke up. “Are you okay if I sleep on this side of the bed?”

“Yes.” You walk over to the other side of the bed and slowly crawl under the covers.

You should try to go to sleep but instead you can’t stop thinking about the boy lying in bed next to you. Laying on your side you stare at him silently. He’s lying on his back just staring at the ceiling. What could he possibly be thinking about? Let’s be real, he probably thought this side of your family was crazy. You can’t really blame him for thinking that either. Personally you weren’t even a big fan of this side of the family either. You have basically been an outcast for as long as you can remember.

He reached over and turned off the light that was on the bed side table. “Why do I feel like right now you’re over thinking everything?” His voice is gentle as he speaks to you.

You and Wonwoo had been friends for a while, and he knew you pretty well. You weren’t going to get away with saying that everything was fine. Because honestly at the moment everything was very far from fine. Everything around you felt as if it was spiraling out of control and Wonwoo was the only thing keeping you grounded. This whole trip had you completely on edge and filled with anxiety.

“This whole weekend is just extremely stressful. I also feel bad that I dragged you into it.”

He moved so he was laying on his side staring at you. He gently reached over and pushed a piece of your hair away from your face. He softly said, “I’m fine, you don’t have to worry about me this weekend. I’m here to hold your hand and make it through this weekend.”

You gave him a soft smile. There was something about knowing that Wonwoo is there by your side, and that he wants to make sure you don’t feel alone this weekend.

“Tomorrow at that wedding we are going to make such a hot couple that everyone is going to be jealous.” A cute smile plays cross his lips.

You couldn’t help but smile back at him. It was almost contagious. “Well my family already thinks you’re an amazing boyfriend.”

“I can’t help it, I’m known to be pretty charming.” He reached over and laced his fingers with yours. Your stomach feels as if it’s in a twist with the feeling of butterflies. “Also, for some reason grandparents always seem to like me.”

“Well I think you’re the first boyfriend I have ever brought to a family event that my grandmother actually likes. She’s pretty savage when it comes to asking personal questions.”

He squeezed your hand gently and said, “well I didn’t think she wasn’t too bad.”

Silently you stared at each other for a moment just enjoying each other’s company. There is a long moment of silence before you finally speak. “I don’t think I could have done this without you.”

“I’m glad you asked me to come to this wedding with you. I don’t feel like we ever hang out without Mingyu, and it’s nice to finally have some one-on-one time.” He’s not wrong, your whole entire friendship with Wonwoo consisted of your mutual best friend being there as well. You’ve probably hung out with Wonwoon maybe once without Mingyu, before this weekend.

“I feel like we’re actually getting to know each other.”

“Yeah, and I like that a lot.” He put emphasis on a lot, and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Wonwoo had feelings for you as well. Maybe your crush isn’t as one sided as you always thought it was. What little time you have spent together one on one already has you questioning your feelings for him. What if this was more than just a little crush? What if you have actually fallen for your cute gamer friend. You knew putting on a show tomorrow at the wedding wasn’t going to help you confusion at all.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As the morning light shined through the curtains, you were woken up to Wonwoo’s strong body curled up behind you. Your eyes popped open when you realized how close you were. Wonwoo started to stir and his arm that swung across your soft stomach pulled your body closer to his tone body. He nuzzled his face against the back of your neck. Your eyes stayed wide open, as you attempted to pretend you’re still sleeping. She wondered if he was aware of what he was doing. He mumbled something you couldn't make out, sounding as if he’s still asleep.

He stayed close pressed up against you. His arm still wrapped tightly around you, for about five minutes before you gently lifted his arm and moved away from him. As you started to get out of bed Wonwoo’s warm eyes slowly opened.

“Good morning,” he yawned.

“Morning.”

“What time is the wedding?” he asked.

“The ceremony starts at three,” you said as you got out of bed.

He nodded his head and yawned as he rolled onto his back, and slowly stretched. You couldn’t help but stare at his practically naked body as he put himself on display as he stretched. Looking away you needed to get away before you said or did something you would regret when this was all over. Quickly you walked off to your suitcase.

“Did you need to use the bathroom before I take a shower?”

“Yeah, let me go really quick.” He got out of bed and walked off to the bathroom.

You looked through your suitcase to pull out the dress she had bought to wear to the wedding. Turning around you found Wonwoo walking out of the bathroom. How is he so hot without even trying? He still looks half asleep and he is wearing a pair of sweatpants that show off his mouth watering v lines.

“Did we want to go grab brunch or something before the wedding?” He asked as he scratched the back of his neck.

You nodded, “yeah that would be nice.”

“Should we get ready in normal clothes and get dressed for the wedding after brunch?” He sat down on the edge of bed.

“Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

You pulled out the light blue dress you had bought for the wedding. You hung the dress up in the closet and then walked back to the suitcase to grab a sundress you had picked out to wear to brunch.

Walking into the bathroom you turned on the shower and let the water warm up, as you stripped away your clothes. Stepping into the shower you tried not to think about the stress of the day that was ahead of you. As the warm washed over your mind keeps wandering to Wonwoo. Without even trying he’s somehow taking over all your waking thoughts. You keep thinking about how it felt to wake up in his arms. The whole thing just felt so natural.

Turning off the water you take your time drying off before getting dressed. You put on some natural looking base makeup, so all you would have to put on when they got back from lunch would be your eye makeup.

Walking into the room you find Wonwoo lying on the bed staring at his phone. Glancing up he sat his phone on the bed and gave you a smile. His smile had always given you butterflies, from the first moment they had met. Even as time passed nothing had changed.

He sits up and grabs his glasses off the nightstand. “Ready to grab some food?” he asked.

You nod as you put on some black flats and walk over to grab your purse. Wonwoo jumped up and grabbed his wallet and the room key. Walking out into the hallway and without thinking Wonwoo reached down and laced his fingers with yours. You couldn’t help the warm feeling in your stomach as he held your hand tightly leading you down the hallway. As you stepped into the elevator, he continued to hold your hand, never letting go. The doors opened on the main floor and you stepped out, immediately ran into your grandmother and Aunt Rita.

They waved you both down. Wonwoo leaned down and whispered into your ear, “we can make it quick and I’ll whisk you away.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

“Look at the adorable couple,” aunt Rita said, stopping right in front of you.

“Wonwoo, where are you and my granddaughter off to?”

“We’re grabbing some brunch before we get ready for the wedding,” he smiled before leaning down and pressing his lips to your cheek. This was the first time you've ever shared any type of kiss. Even if it was just a peck on the cheek. You can’t push away the feeling that you like being able to be close to him like this.

“Oh, how romantic,” Aunt Rita says.

“Well we will leave you two love birds alone then,” your grandmother said before walking away.

He leaned down once again with his lips brushing your ear and whispered, “I told you I was going to save you.”

“I don’t know how I can ever repay you for this weekend.” Your tone was completely serious as you looked into his warm eyes. You didn’t understand how he could be such an amazing friend and so emotionally supportive for you this weekend.

He gave you his signature charming smile, “getting to spend a weekend with you is enough.”

Your heart started racing as you stared at him wondering if you had just heard him correctly. What little bit of alone time you've had spent together was reminding you of your crush. You can’t help but wonder if maybe it was more than a crush based on the way he was making you feel. You were also wondering if maybe he returned your feelings, based on what he had been saying. If he only saw you as a friend he wouldn’t be holding your hand any chance he gets either.

You sat in the café that was connected to the hotel. You were both enjoying your waffles and making small talk. You and Wonwoo had been friends for a while, but you weren’t as close with him as you were with Mingyu. This time you’re getting to spend together you felt like you had grown a lot closer. Just him spending time with him made you feel a lot more comfortable about everything.

You stop eating and stare at Wonwoo, smiling while listening to him tell a story about him and Mingyu when they were freshman in college during a drunken night out. You always loved hearing funny stories about Mingyu and Wonwoo adventures.

You finished eating and walked back to your room hand in hand. Wonwoo didn’t think twice about lacing his fingers with your. He does it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. You kept telling yourself that he keeps holding your hand because he knew he had to play the role of your loving boyfriend. If you don’t keep telling yourself that you might start falling for him even harder. There is no way you could handle it if he didn’t feel the same way. The one goal of this wedding was for you to keep your feelings under control.

Walking into the room you walked over to the closet and grabbed her your light blue dress. Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you take your time styling your hair just the way you like it. After you put on the rest of her makeup.

Grabbing your dress off the back of the door, and slipping it on. After quite a bit of struggling to get the zipper up, you finally give up. Holding the dress up to your chest, walking back into the room to find an extremely handsome looking Wonwoo dressed in a suit and tie.

His eyes went wide and a huge smile formed on his face. “You look so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, not even sure if you could properly speak at that moment. “Can you help with the zipper?” You turned around.

Silently he stepped forward and slowly dragged the zipper the rest of the way. His hand lingered on the exposed skin above your dress. He gently dragged his finger across the delicate above your dress.

Turning around he stares at you silently. Your stomach was doing flips at the way that he was looking at you. You weren’t sure anyone had ever looked at you the way Wonwoo was looking at you at that moment. His eyes were gentle and filled with what you could describe as love.

Looking over at the clock that was on the wall and saw you only had about twenty minutes until the wedding started. He reached down and took your hand in his. “I think maybe we should head off to the wedding.”

“Okay.”

Walking through the hotel out to the garden where the ceremony was being held. You sat in the middle away from all your family. It didn’t feel right sitting in the first two rows for close immediate family. Wonwoo had his arm over your shoulder. Holding your soft body close to his. He kept leaning over and whispering random things into your ear. Wonwoo deserves an Oscar for the performance he’s putting on. He was beaming knowing you were truly putting on one hell of a show. The issue is, you don't know how much of it was a show on your part.

As the ceremony started, you couldn’t lie, you absolutely hated every single moment of it. That hollow feeling in your chest feels deeper watching your father happily move on with his lip. How could you like watching your father get remarried. It just meant you were going to see him even less, and most likely your relationship was going to grow even more strand. This is a sign that maybe you can finally stop trying. He clearly hasn’t tried to fix your relationship. So why should you keep trying? As they exchanged vows many people were crying happy tears in the crowd, and your eyes started to brim with tears but they weren’t happy tears. They’re anything but tears of joy. Wonwoo noticed right away and leaned over and pressed his lips to your cheek kissing away the tears that slowly started to fall. He reached over with his free hands and laced his fingers with yours. Squeezing your hand three times.

There is no point in trying to hide your sadness from him. Looking over at him trying your hardest to stop crying. He leaned over and whispered, “if you want to leave now, we can. Or we can walk off to get some air. I just want you to know you aren’t alone.”

“I’m going to be okay,” you whispered as you squeezed his hand.

The ceremony came to a close and the bride and groom exit, and everyone slowly started heading off to the large ballroom that was set up. You sat completely still, not really moving. You were trying to gather yourself as much as possible. Wonwoo didn’t move or say anything, he just held your hand knowing that all this was extremely tough for you.

Wonwoo had heard you talk about your relationship with your father before. Many nights alone Mingyu has told him quite a bit about it. Mingyu hasn’t ever been a fan of your father. According to him, all your father does is break your heart. Wonwoo knew going into this weekend you needed someone to let you know you weren't alone. You needed support and someone who could be a shoulder to cry on. He would be whatever you needed him to be.

You both left alone in the garden. After what felt like an hour you finally slowly stood up. Nervously you start smoothing out your dress. Wonwoo stood up and watched you closely. Reaching up you brushed the tears away from one side of your face. Before you could reach the other cheek he reached over and gently rested his hand on your tear stained cheek. Gently brushing away your tears with his thumb. His warm eyes were locked on your sad eyes as he stared at you for a long moment. A long moment passed before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your forehead gently. Closing your eyes, taking in his closeness as his lips lingered on your forehead. You reached for his hand and squeezed it just needing to be close to him for a moment.

“Are you ready for this?” You asked not even sure if you were truly ready.

“I’m ready whenever you are.”

This all feels like too much. Standing up, still holding his hand, you lead him towards the ballroom. Stopping right outside the doors of the room that was filled with over a hundred people. He reached up and placed hand on your cheek once again. There is a look of confusion on your face. Why did he suddenly decide to stop? You don’t ask why, you just stared at him.

“I want you to know that you’re a very special girl, and I wouldn’t be just anyone’s fake boyfriend. I did this because you mean a lot to me. You are so incredibly strong. I know this sucks, having to watch your father get married again. Hell I know I’m rambling a lot right now, but I need you to know that you don’t need your father’s approval on anything in life. If he doesn’t see how special you are and how talented and amazing you are. He’s a fucking idiot, and he doesn’t deserve your love.”

That definitely wasn’t what you expected him to say. Sure Mingyu has said similar stuff, but it feels very different hearing him say it. Completely caught off guard you just just stand there blinking, taking in everything he had just said. His sweet words had you once again on the brink of tears.

“When all this is over and we go home-“ He pauses and stares for a moment. “I want you to know that I’m still going to be there to hold your hand if you need me to.”

All you can do is smile. “Jeon Wonwoo you are something else.”

“Is that a good thing?” he asked, pushing his glasses up.

You nodded.

“Are you ready to put on a show?” It’s now or never. It’s time to go in there and show everyone how great Wonwoo is.

A smile tugs at his lips before he leans in to kiss your cheek. With his lips still ghosting your skin he whispered, “This doesn’t have to be a show, this can all be as real as you want it to.”

Suddenly the world feels as if it’s stopped spinning. This wasn’t just some one sided crush? He actually likes you back? Your heart raced and butterflies filled your stomach. Your eyes instantly go wide. You can’t help but wonder if that meant that he might feel something real for her the whole time.

“Let’s go honey.” He moved away from you, and led her into the ballroom that was already packed.

Walking over hand in hand you found your seats. You were relieved that you were at least sitting with some of your cousins that you were at least a little close with. Wonwoo leaned over and let you know he was going to find you something to drink. You stayed to talk to your cousin Irene who was your age and newly married.

“So where did you find that hot one?” Irene asked, smiling.

The feeling of pride that you experience that people are impressed with your date. “He’s a friend from college that I stayed close with.”

Irene brought a glass of wine up to her lips and took a sip and smiled at you. “Well you should keep him around and bring him to more family events, because he’s a babe.”

Before you could even respond, Wonwoo walked over and sat a drink down in front of you. Wonwoo pressed his lips to your cheek for a quick kiss. He sits down next to you.

“Did I miss anything?” he asked.

Irene shook her head, “nope.”

“Are you two not a big fan of PDA?” Irene asked, realizing that Wonwoo only ever kissed your cheek.

Knitting your eyebrows together, you realize you and Wonwoo hadn’t actually shared a kiss on the lips. He’s just been leaving sweet kisses on your cheek or forehead.

“I was just trying to be respectful of her family,” Wonwoo chimed in knowing that you were probably at a loss for words.

“Believe me sweetie nobody is going to be offended if you kiss for real,” Irene said before taking another sip of her wine.

Wonwoo turned to look at you. This was not how you expected your conversation with Irene to go. You must look pretty caught off guard by everything.

He reached over and rested his hand on your cheek and stared at you wondering if you were okay with them sharing a real kiss.

You could basically read his mind by the way he was staring at your lips. Without saying a word you nod your head.

Wonwoo took that as his cue and leaned forward to connect his lips to yours for a searing kiss. The moment your lips touch, electricity courses through your veins. There was a spark between you and Wonwoo that up until that moment you didn’t think existed. Your lips moved together, and Wonwoo gently slid his tongue across your bottom lips asking to deepen the kiss. You reached forward and gripped his blazer as your lips danced.

The sound of someone clearing their throat, catches your attention. Pulling away from Wonwoo. You looked up to see your father standing there.

“I see you two are having fun,” your father awkwardly said.

“Sorry about that sir,” Wonwoo said, not really being sorry at all.

“Sweetheart I was wondering if we could have a father daughter dance?”

You weren’t even able to fully process what had just happened between you and Wonwoo. Now you’re being put on the spot to share a dance with your father. This is far from something you want to do.

“Sure.”

Following you father through the crowd the dj starts playing a slow version of “Here Comes the Sun” by the Beatles. Your father reached out for you. Slowly you dance together in front of the whole ballroom. You’re both completely silent. You don’t even know what you should even talk about.

“So that Wonwoo guy seems good for you.” He finally says, speaking up.

For some reason his statement annoyed you. “What does that mean?”

“I think he could give you a good life, and you wouldn’t have to worry about working. He could really take care of you.” Your father smiled, completely unaware of how annoying his comments were.

“Am I ever going to be good enough for you?” You’ve finally had enough.

“(YN) why would you even ask me that?” he didn’t seem to understand why you‘re so upset. The problem with him is, he’s never going to understand how much he’s hurt you over the years. For some reason he’s convinced himself that leaving you and your mother didn’t hurt you.

“I could be a god damn rocket scientist who is a millionaire, and somehow or another you would still be disappointed in me.”

He shook his head. “That’s not true. I just have such high hopes for you,” he whispered, attempting to not cause a scene. This was supposed to be a touching father and daughter dance. All this moment is going instead is breaking your heart.

“I had high hopes for you when I was a kid, but that didn’t matter, you still cheated.” You pulled away from your father as the song came to close.

He stared at you looking completely shocked. There was no point in holding back anymore how much he’s broken your heart. “(YN) that had nothing to do with you. That was, and still is, between your mother and I.”

“Well you left us, so I think it had something to do with me.” He silently stared at you wide eyed, clearly unsure what to say to you. “I shouldn’t have even come to this,” you sighed, stepping away from him.

“(YN) I want you to know that I love you,” your father says.

Silently you nodded and walked towards Wonwoo. Everything suddenly feels like it’s falling apart and you can’t sit here and pretend to be happy anymore. You didn’t say anything as you sat down, you reached for your drink and started to chug it. Wonwoo watched knowing that something was said by your father to upset you. As you reached for his drink, he placed his hand lightly on your wrist, instantly stopping you. He couldn’t have you getting wasted at this wedding, you would regret it in the morning if you did.

How can your father make you feel so small with such little effort? No matter how hard you try, you truly just want his approval. The problem is no matter what you do, you unfortunately never get it.

“I’m never going to be enough.”

“That is not true, you are more than enough. You’ve always been enough to me.”

His statement suddenly made your world feel like it was spinning. The aching feeling in your chest doesn’t hurt as badly suddenly.

As music started playing loudly across the ballroom everyone that had been sitting at your table got up to go dance. The two of you stayed at the table. You're trying to process what Wonwoo said.

Your eyes were locked on his dark ones through his glasses. In that moment, you were completely lost in his warm eyes. After the interaction with your father you felt completely and utterly heartbroken. Somehow right in that exact moment you felt like everything was going to be okay. You had Wonwoo sitting right next to you letting you know that your father didn’t matter. If he didn’t think you were enough, he was an idiot.

Your heart was racing a million miles an hour as your eyes started to brim with tears once again. Biting your bottom lip, you weren’t even sure what you should say.

“Are you okay,” Wonwoo asked, growing concerned.

“Am I really enough?”

“I don’t think you are aware how much you mean to me.” He reached over and squeezed your hand. “I came here this weekend because I knew you needed a friend, and because I wanted a chance to see if you would maybe want more…” he hesitated. “I like you, a lot. I totally understand if you just want a friend. I want you to know how I feel.”

This was unexpected. Wonwoo has never even given you the slightest hint that he was interested in you romantically. Silently you stared at him. Not even sure what to say to him.

“You don’t have to say anything, but I want you to know how I feel. I also want to let you know that I don’t think you should give a single fuck what any of your family thinks about you. Especially your father.”

“Wonwoo, I like you too.” A weight feels like it’s been lifted off your chest.

He smiled and reached over and rested his hand on your cheek. “Did you maybe want to share a dance?”

The music had switched to a slow song. There is something about the idea of getting to slow dance with Wonwoo that gives you butterflies.

Standing up you hold your hand out. He laced his fingers with yours. Leading him towards the dance floor you feel your father staring at you. You moved through the crowded dance floor that was filled with couples dancing. He pulls you close to him. Wrapping your arms around his neck he holds your hips, holding you close to him. He bit his bottom lip as he stared at you, it made him happy to see you smiling a little. Looking down at his shirt you feel nervous making eye contact with him. Why do you suddenly feel nervous being this close to him? You had already confessed your feelings to each other. Why did this slow dance feel so intimate?

“You know you are by far the most beautiful girl in this room,” his sweet words caused you to blush.

Glancing up at him through your eyelashes you couldn’t believe this moment was real between you. Suddenly everything seemed like a dream as you swayed to the beat of the song.

“You are quite the charmer Wonwoo.”

“I only want to be charming when it comes to you, honey.”

“I couldn’t have made it through this without you.” The thought of you doing this alone makes your chest hurt.

-

“I’m going to be here for you even after we go home, and I will be your fake boyfriend forever if you need me to be.” He didn’t want to be just your fake boyfriend. “I could also be more if you would want that.” He was putting his heart and the ego on the line right then, but he needed you to know that he would take more if you would give him more.

“I want more,” you whispered as you stopped moving and just stared at each other.

Without a single word he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. Your lips moved together as he deepened the kiss. Reaching up and placing his hand on your cheek holding you close. There is no way you weren’t causing a scene, making out on the dance floor. It’s not like you care now. The room could have been on fire and you wouldn’t have even noticed. At that moment nothing seemed to matter other than you and Wonwoo.

Pulling away you whispered, “please take me to our room.” You need to escape and you know Wonwoo will take you anywhere you want to go.

“Are you sure?” He messed with his glasses almost nervously.

You nodded and reached down, taking his hand. Leading him through the ballroom and out the large white doors you had entered through. You silently made your way through the hotel and up the elevator. Nothing was said between you. Wonwoo stared at you as if the two of you were the only people in the entire world. Your stomach was doing flips at the thought of what was about to happen. There was a line that was about to be crossed. You don’t ever want to look back. You want to hold his hand as you both fall together.

-

Entering the room you make quick work of removing your shoes. You turn to look at Wonwoo who was removing his suit jacket. He stared at you wondering if you should just watch a movie and not do anything in the heat of the moment. He was worried you were just acting on your emotions.

You reached behind you to start trying to remove your dress. You turned so your back was to Wonwoo. There was no way you could remove this dress without Wonwoo’s help. He stepped forward and placed a sweet kiss on the back of your neck. A shiver went down your spine at the feeling of his electric touch. Slowly he dragged the zipped down your light blue dress and kissed his way down your spine ever so delicately. Holding your eyes closed tight taking in the feeling of his touch.

A sea of light blue fabric pools at your feet. Left standing in front of him in just your bra and panties.

The room feels different. It’s clear you both know everything is about to change. Honestly things probably changed the moment Wonwoo offered to come to this wedding with you. All your cards have been put on the table. You both have confessed your feelings. Wonwoo had made you feel like you were the most important person in the world. How do you possibly process that?

“Wonwoo what is going on here?” You asked, needing to know if he wanted this to happen. Because right then and there you felt as if you needed him with every part of your body and soul. Your soul aches for him to love you.

He was staring at you with lust blown pupils. He had just laid his heart out on the line, and told you that he wanted more. He wanted to give her everything, but this all had to be on your terms.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” he said softly.

“Wonwoo, I want this but we’re not just caught up in the illusion of a fake relationship, right?” Reaching up and resting your hand on his cheek. Being able to touch him like this is a wonderful reminder this is all real.

“Everything I feel for you has nothing to do with us faking a relationship. I know you think we’re caught up in the moment, but it’s real.”

“I know, I know. It’s just… damnit, I want you.” This all just doesn’t feel real. “This has just been such a crazy weekend. I just need to know that this is all real.”

“I know this has been a crazy weekend, but I want you to know that I want you too,” he reassured you. He had a lot of thoughts going through his own mind. “I want you so badly. I have for a while, but if you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to. I want you to know that everything I feel for you is real.”

“Promise me that even after we do this, you’ll still want me.” You needed to know that this was all real to him. That this wasn’t part of the illusion.

He leaned forward to give you a quick kiss, and slowly said, “I’ve wanted you for a while, and if you want this to be real. I’ll want you five seconds from now, and even five decades from here on.”

“Okay,” you whispered, stepping away from him.

He stared at you as you reached behind you to remove your strapless bra. As it fell to the floor Wonwoo stared at you in awe for a moment before he started to remove his tie. He untucked his shirt. Stepping forward to help him unbutton his shirt.

Leaning forward he placed a sweet kiss on you forehead, “I’ll never get over how beautiful you are.” Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you finished unbuttoning his shirt. He quickly took off his shoes and removed his socks, and got his pants off. “Can I touch you?” he asked, staring at your soft body.

Most of your life you have struggled with feeling comfortable in your own skin. The idea of being naked in front of someone wasn’t your favorite thought. The way he was looking at you made you feel comfortable. He made you feel truly wanted.

Silently you nodded. He reached out and gently palmed your breast. Leaning forward he starts kissing your bare shoulder. Working his way up your neck placing gentle bites and wet kisses. Soft moans pass your lips. His hand moved to the top of your panties, ever so slowly playing with the seam before his hand slid in. His fingers parted your folds and he gently stroked your sensitive nub.

You gasped at his touch. Everything feels warm and fuzzy. Reaching out to palm him through his boxers. He grew harder in your hand as you continued to palm him. He picks up his paces toying with your clit.

“I need you,” you murmured.

“Okay honey,” he whispered, removing his hand from your panties.

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet to remove his incase of emergency condom. He had always carried it with him. Stripping away your panties, you crawled onto the bed. Watching as he kicked off his boxers and tore the foil packet open with his teeth. His eyes stayed locked on yours as he rolled the rubber down his length.

Crawling onto the bed he slowly parted your knees and stared down at you for a long moment before finally speaking, “(YN) are you sure you want this right now? We can always wait and do this another time.”

There is nothing more on this planet that you want than Wonwoo. You desperately want to know what it’s like to be with him in every physical way possible. “Yeah, I want this. I want you.”

“Okay,” he slowly lined up with your entrance. “At any time, if this is too much for you, just tell me and we can stop right then. Don’t worry about upsetting me, I won’t be upset.”

“Wonwoo I just want this,” you reached for his strong hand that was resting on her soft hip.

“Okay,” he whispered as he slowly pushed in.

He leaned forward placing all his weight on his hands as he hovered over you. His hips started to slowly roll as he connected his lips to yours for a passionate kiss.

Your body is warm and all your brain can process is the feeling of Wonwoo filling you completely. The stars have aligned and your finally with the man you desperately want to fall in love with.

You moan as he kisses you, whispering sweet words against your lips. With each thrust he picked up his speed.

Throughout your life you’ve slept with a few people. Sex with Wonwoo was something completely different. You were overwhelmed completely in the best way possible by his touch. He continues to whispered words of praise into your ear causing you to become speechless. Nobody ever in her life had ever said the sweet words he was whispering. It was almost as if he knew all the right things to say. He made you feel as if you were the only person in the world that existed.

He kissed his way down your neck as you moaned his name.

Reaching down to where you’re connected, you started to slowly touch yourself. The moment Wonwoo realized what you were doing he stared at you in awe. He had seen nothing in his entire life as beautiful as you looked right then.

He moaned your name like a prayer. He continued to stare at you in awe. Moaning his name back, as you reached up with your hand that wasn’t touching yourself. Resting it on Wonwoo’s cheek. Your eyes stayed locked on each other as white hot wave washes over you. Wonwoo only got about two more thrust in when he hit his own high. He stilled in you and leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours for a sloppy kiss.

Rolling off of you he laid on his back and looked over at you and smiled, “how about we watch a movie?”

Everything feels perfect and you can’t help but smile.

Wonwoo reached down and pulled the covers up. Reaching over you grab the remote. Curling up next to him as you flipped through the list of movies.

-&-

The urge to pee wakes you up in the middle of the night. You’re still completely naked. Neither you or Wonwoo even bothered putting clothes on. You hadn’t even left the bed other than getting up to use the restroom. Wonwoo had thrown a robe on once so he could grab the room service that was delivered. You put a robe on so you weren't naked while eating. The moment you crawled back into bed you both were fully naked.

The trip to the bathroom was short. Crawling back into bed you moved closer to Wonwoo who had woken up. He let out a yawn and smiled at you.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“It’s like four am,” You said softly, rolling on your side next to him.

“Okay,” he yawned, laying right behind you so you were spooning. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your shoulder, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

That wasn’t a statement you were expecting to hear. Your eyes are probably as wide as saucers. “Wonwoo, are you sure about that?”

He leaned up and with his lips brushing your ear whispered, “I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

You couldn’t help the smile that was plastered across your face. “Okay, let’s talk about it more in the morning when we’re both not half asleep.”

“Is that your way of rejecting me?” he asked with a soft laugh.

“No, I would never reject you Wonwoo. I just don’t want to have this conversation at four in the morning when we’re both half asleep and naked.”

“Okay honey,” he gently pressed his lips to your shoulder.

-&-

Around nine the both of you woke up. There was some tension between the two of you. Neither of you dare to bring up your conversation you shared in the middle of the night. Wonwoo wasn’t going to be the one to bring up first. He knows you well enough to know you’re definitely overthinking this. If he had to, he planned on just bringing it up a couple days after you returned home.

Around ten-thirty you checked out of the hotel and you were on your way back home. About thirty minutes into the drive home you looked over at Wonwoo who was focused on the road.

“Were you serious about what you said?” You needed to know if he regretted anything that had happened between you.

He glanced over at you for a quick second before looking back at the road, “I was one-hundred percent serious about every single thing I said this weekend.”

“Even the part about wanting to be my real boyfriend?” You asked, staring at him.

He wanted nothing more than to be your actual boyfriend.

“I was very serious about that,” he reached over and rested his hand on your soft thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Wonwoo please pull over.”

“Why?” he asked as he pulled over on the highway. He put the hazards on and looked over at you confused on why he was pulling over. Part of him was worried you were going to get out of the car and run away.

You reached over the center console and took his face in your hands. Crashing your lips into his for a sloppy kiss. Pulling away and smiling at him as he looked at you completely dumbstruck.

“What was that for?”

“I want you to be my real boyfriend, Wonwoo.”

“I would love to be your real boyfriend,” he had a huge smile on his face.

“Okay you can start driving again,” you leaned back in your seat and buckled up again.

Wonwoo had a huge smile plastered on his face as he turned back onto the highway. He reached over and laced his fingers with yours and squeezed your hand three times.

Who knew agreeing to be your fake boyfriend would lead to finally being able to call you his?

If you have asked to be tagged I request that you please reblog. If you could leave comments and or tags that would be greatly appreciated.

[fromdove]

“Are you making… Oreo brownies?”

You’re in the zone. Full concentration. Headphones in. Sleeves rolled up. Spoon carving its path through a thick swirl of glossy cocoa and sugar and crushed Oreos. The bowl is warm from your own body heat, the scent is, of course, delicious, and you're already composing the victory text you’re going to send Steph. Something smug. Something bold. Something with at least four exclamation marks.

And then.

You flinch like you've just been struck by lightning. The spoon slips from your hand and lands in the bowl with a dramatic clatter, launching a perfect arc of brownie batter across your forearm and onto your sleeve.

You rip your headphones out. “Jesus Christ,” you shout, heart lurching. You spin around so fast you almost step on your own foot. “Dick!”

You didn’t hear the front door. You definitely didn’t hear footsteps.

But you do hear his voice. Right behind you. Where you didn’t even realize he was.

You’re clutching your chest when he smiles.

“They look delicious. I’m absolutely starving.”

You scowl, hand still pressed over your thudding heart. “Can you make some noise when you enter a house? You’re not Batman.”

He has the nerve to lean forward towards you. his hand against the counter behind you like he didn’t just knock five years off your life. His hair is damp, curls sticking to his forehead in soft, sweaty pieces. His suit is peeled halfway down and tied around his waist like a towel.

��Hi,” he says, with an innocent shrug and an added grin for effect. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t mean to—? You—!” You sputter, motioning wildly at the bowl. “You made me mess up my batter!”

“You’re welcome,” he says, is he kidding?.

You blink. “You’re home.”

“I noticed.”

“You didn’t text.”

“I was going to. But then I realized I liked the element of surprise better. more romantic”

You squint suspiciously. “that’s not romantic. that’s deeply annoying. I have brownie batter on my shirt now. you also could've given me a heart condition.”

He gasps. “Sorry, sergeant. Next time I’ll throw a rock through your window to let you know I’m coming.”

You don’t appreciate his tone of sarcasm. Not one bit. “Oh, fantastic. Your charming knack for breaking things really completes my day. Like you haven’t already wrecked enough. Just try not to break anything too expensive, alright? Because last time—”

He flicks your forehead before you can finish your sentence, His grin turns soft at the edges, curling deeper into his cheeks until his dimples show.

You hate that your face warms under the kitchen lights.

Damn his stupid perfect face.

You glance him over. He’s bruised. One big purple smear curling over his ribs and another blooming just above his hip. There’s a shallow scrape at his side, not quite bleeding, but still raw. He shifts his weight and you catch the faintest limp. He smells like gotham air and sweat and faint cologne, and honestly, it should be disgusting.

On anybody else, it would be, but not on him.

You cross your arms. “You’re bleeding. And you’re standing within blood-spatter distance of my brownies. I swear to God, if you get any blood on my batter…”

His eyes sparkle like that’s not even a threat. “Might improve the flavor. A little Grayson glaze.”

You groan. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You really don’t.

“Also, I’m not bleeding,” he says, before you can threaten him again, gesturing loosely to his side, his grin faltering slightly. “It’s a superficial scrape. Barely leaking.”

“Dick.”

“I mean it. No drip risk. This is a sterile environment.”

“You are not a sterile environment. Look at you.”

He walks forward, hands raised in surrender. “I washed my hands. Rinsed. Lathered. I’m FDA-approved.”

“That is not how an FDA-approved person looks.” You give him a look. “And the limp?”

He hesitates. Looks down at his own legs like he has to double-check. Then nods once, very seriously. “Stylized walking.”

You deadpan. “Stylized walking.”

He nods, serious. “It’s called commitment to the bit. It’s my swagger.”

You reach for the spatula again.

“I’m going. I’m going.” He’s already retreating. ���Message received. No bleeding near brownies. But I missed you. So. Had to say hi.”

You sigh. “Hi.”

He beams. “See? Worth it.”

You point toward the hallway with your spatula. “Shower. Go.”

He doesn’t move right away. Instead, he leans in just a little. Closer. He squints at your face.

“You have a little flour on your cheek.”

You start to lift your hand, but he stops you.

“No, wait. Let me.”

He blows gently against your cheek. Not enough to actually do anything. But enough to make you a blushing mess. You’re very aware of how close he is. How warm. How smug.

“Shower, Grayson,” you say through your teeth.

He groans like you’ve wounded him. “I nearly died for this country.”

“You were in Blüdhaven.”

“Details.”

He trudges off with the dramatic weight of a man being sent to exile. “No applause. No gratitude. No patriotic cookies. What has this world come to?”

You hear the bathroom door close behind him, then the water start a minute later.

You glance at the clock.

He’s never been under five minutes early before.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

When he reappears, he's wearing the soft cotton combo that makes you feel... things. That navy t-shirt hugs his torso a little too tightly, like it’s clinging for dear life, and the grey sweatpants hang low enough to show off the waistband of his Calvin Kleins. His hair is towel-dried and flopping into his eyes like he styled it to look that effortlessly perfect, even though you know he didn’t.

His socks squeak softly against the kitchen floor as he walks.

He leans against a wall. No greeting this time. Just, “That pan is calling to me.”

You don’t give in. “Tell it to call back later. They’re not ready.”

“I think I deserve one.”

“Mm. Did you get shot tonight?”

“No.”

“Stabbed?”

“Nope.”

“Thrown off a roof?”

He pauses. “...Briefly.”

You glare at him with a look that very clearly does not say yes.

He starts walking toward the counter anyway. apparently your silence was enough permission for him.

“They smell heavenly,” he says, in a tone just shy of reverent. “there's no harm in one slice.”

“I baked them for tomorrow.”

“I live in the now. tomorrow’s just a trap to keep us from eating brownies today.”

You shift your body to block the cooling rack, hands on your hips. “You want one, you ask nicely.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What are we, six?”

“Six-year-olds don’t track blood from fighting criminals into my kitchen. You want a brownie? use your manners.”

He doesn’t answer right away. just looks at you. then steps closer.

His hands find your waist, fingers warm as they slide just beneath the hem of your hoodie. The contact sends a slow chill up your spine. He dips his head, smile curling at one side like he already knows what he’s doing to you. Which he probably (most definitely) does. Unfortunately.

“Please,” he murmurs, voice low and syrupy. he tilts his head and grins, inching closer until he’s barely two centimeters away.

You blink up at him, trying not to visibly short-circuit. this boy. your face is warming fast, your heartbeat louder than it has any right to be, and all you can think is: rude. so fucking rude.

He closes the space between you.

Soft, sure, stupidly confident. he’s known all along you’d let him. His mouth brushes yours once, featherlight, then again with more purpose. He kisses like he knows what he’s doing. Dick knows exactly where and how you melt. And then, just to be mean, he makes it worse. This boy has not been taught manners.

Your fingers catch in the fabric of his t-shirt, curled there, maybe you’re anchoring yourself in a way. His hands settle more firmly on your waist, thumbs tracing small, lazy circles against your skin underneath the hoodie.

He grins against your mouth when you let out a tiny, involuntary sound. you know he heard it. you know he's going to let you know he noticed it. you feel his smirk. Mr. Raised-by-Gotham’s-Greatest-Detective notices everything.

You pull back, breathing a little too shallow, noses still brushing, eyes barely open.

“Convincing,” you whisper, lips still tingling.

He smiles, a little smug. “I’m motivated.”

You sigh like you’re over it. (you are not over it.)

Scooping a gooey, still-molten corner from the edge of the pan, you hold it up. He opens his mouth like you’re feeding royalty. One bite in and he actually groans, head tipping back like this is the first thing he’s enjoyed in years.

You don’t comment. you try not to think about it. but your brain is screaming.

Sweatpants. Forearms. Post-fight glow. Groaning over brownies.

totally unfair. ridiculous, even. weren’t you supposed to be the sensible girlfriend? the one with self-control? not this hopeless brownie supplier who apparently crumbles the second he so much as breathes and gets turned on just watching him eat oreo brownies. the same brownies he’d rather kiss you over than say please for.

But… it’s him. somehow, everything he does is hot. even this. stupidly, ridiculously sexy.

“Holy shit,” he mutters, eyes closed. “I’d sell my soul for this.”

“You say that every time.”

He straightens, eyes bright. “Yeah, but I mean it more every time.”

You roll your eyes but your thumb reaches up instinctively, wiping a smear of chocolate from the corner of his mouth. His lips are soft under your touch. And stupidly inviting. And yeah, you absolutely think about kissing him again. just for a second. just to see if he’d groan again for something that wasn’t food.

“Next time,” you murmur, “come home with fewer bruises.”

He leans in and kisses your cheek, slow and warm.

“Only if you save me the gooey edge.”

You glance at the tray, pretending to weigh your options. “Hm. You got lucky. I was gonna give it to Steph.”

He gasps, full betrayal in his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would.”

He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you against him with no shame at all. “Betrayal. Treason. Actual emotional cheating.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

He nuzzles into your neck, not even pretending to be sorry. “Isn’t that your thing?”

© fromdove— All rights reserved. Reposting, translation, or modification of these works is strictly prohibited, regardless of whether credit is given.

∿　 　 . `💭` ㆍ

[princepondincherry]

This is part of why I love Rohan and Gondor so so much. By the time we get to Rohan, we've had a book of traveling through post-apocalyptic wastelands, occasional bits of respite like Lothlorien and Rivendell that can't last forever, and Moria, which was supposed to be safe but was actually so dangerous it took Gandalf. All of this, and we've gotten inexorably closer to the danger in Mordor. The Fellowship is broken, Boromir is dead. And then...

And then, we meet Rohan, full of hostile people in a decaying society. Things aren't quite as bad as Moria--Eomer is still fighting off the orcs on his land, for one thing, but it's certainly not as safe as the Elvish enclaves. Eomer has been banished! Grima Wormtongue is effecting the downfall of the country as we read about it! The musical cue playing over the establishing shot of Edoras is plaintive, almost mournful, containing hints of greatness hidden by how downtrodden everything is.

But.

But they win. Gandalf reminds Theoden of his responsibilities and retrieves Eomer from his banishment. Theoden leads them to their ancient fortress, which has never fallen while Men defend it, and it does not fall.

And then, unlike the Elves, doing all they can to protect their little isolated post-apocalyptic forests while they pin all their hopes on the Fellowship, when Gondor calls for aid, Rohan answers. The Witch-King is besieging Gondor with great and terrible weapons of war, fell beasts, magical terror, unstoppable hordes...but the soldiers of Gondor stand and fight until Theoden and Aragorn arrive with reinforcements. They win the day. Minas Tirith, the shining city of stone, nought but a feeble remnant of the ancient glory of the united kingdom...it is enough. Gondor and Rohan stand up to the might of Sauron and Saruman. They hold out and even take the fight to his Black Gate, distracting him enough that Frodo and Sam can reach victory.

One reason I love the Lord of the Rings is the way that it allows for true heroism and valor during and after the apocalypse.

See also:

The Kingdom of Noelictus in Gravesong and especially Huntsong, which exists in a zombie apocalypse and has developed the necessary government institutions to live with that, to the point that the general populace doesn't even realize it's an apocalypse.

The Last Ship, a TV show about a U.S. Navy destroyer finding the cure for an apocalyptic plague and helping rebuild society afterwards by protecting it from various threats.

Falling Skies, a post-alien-invasion TV show. It's...not the best, but it has some great parts.

One thing I feel people miss about lord of the rings is that it’s sort of……….post-apocalyptic?

Like– the world already ended, a long time ago, and the characters are surrounded by the ruins of dead countries. They spend most of their time journeying through places that are either abandoned (Moria) soon to be abandoned (Rivendell/Lorien) or half-destroyed and falling into decay (Rohan/Gondor.) The villains are creatures that Used to be Human; I feel like Lotr’s orcs/ringwraiths have more in common with zombies than they do with DnD-style orcs, because they’re a state that “normal” people enter when they’re corrupted by a supernatural force.

Even the Shire is surrounded by ruins– the ruins of watchtowers, the ruins of the old Northern Kingdom, the ruined city near the Grey Havens. The people around there have an idiom “when the king comes back” that means the same thing as an idiom like “when pigs fly”–  “when a completely ridiculous improbable thing happens.” They’re so used to the disintegrated state of the world that the idea of a central government is fairy-tale-like and bizarre. They have their little mayors and thains; they don’t need anything else.

So yeah! I see people try to “modern-real-world- au” versions of Hobbiton by making it “a peaceful suburb” but to me, a modern au version of Hobbiton would be more like…….

You are a hobbit.

You don’t know much history, but you understand that there were Wars a long time ago that destroyed a great amount of life on earth.

You live in a little hole in the ground. You don’t know that long ago these holes used to be called “bunkers;” you decorate them with flowers.

When you want to say that something won’t happen, you’ll sarcastically say things “lol yeah SURE that will happen! And tomorrow pigs will fly, Parliament will come back into session, there will be a president in the White House, there will be a prime minister making speeches, and diplomats will intercede between all of them! ha! XD”

If you journey even a little outside of your home, you’ll find the ruins of old cities and skyscrapers. There are messages in the ruins that are written in languages you don’t speak. Human beings used to live here; they don’t anymore.

And you’re not supposed to leave the Shire because sometimes you’ll meet the things that used to be human, but aren’t anymore.

[burningcheese-merchant]

Hear me out... We got Yandere Burning spice...what about Yandere Herald of Change

Oh God... That would be so horrible lol. If we're working with the Herald of Change from the time travel AU, theeeeeeeen he would have to be closer to corruption than he is in the actual story (Golden Cheese is transported to a time where Burning Spice was still a genuine good guy). Yandere Herald would be different from Yandere Beast in that he wants to have Golden Cheese to himself forever, but is more... discreet about it. He tries harder to pretend to be normal, because he's actually aware that he'd drive her away if he didn't. But his mask would start slipping with time, because Golden Cheese wants to go home and he doesn't want that. He wants her to stay. He doesn't actually know or understand where her home is (Time Travel AU Spice doesn't know she came from the future, only that she's lost), but does it really matter? Why can't she make a new home here with him? Why can't she stay with him? She should stay with him. He'll convince her to stay with him. She'll understand and agree. And if she doesn't? If she doesn't... No, of course she will. Won't she? Why wouldn't she? That kingdom she's mentioned? Those people? They don't need her like he does. He's sure they're doing ok without her. Worse comes to worst, they can make a new kingdom together. That's his job, after all: to build and nurture civilizations. They can have one of their own, they can be king and queen. They can be happy. She can be happy. She just has to stay. She has to stay. She has to stay. She has to stay.

If she still doesn't want to stay...?

Fine. It's fine. He'll make her stay.

[fortunxa]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 THINKING ABOUT . . .

🫧⋆｡˚ Jinx x fem!reader ˎˊ˗

. . . having a homoerotic friendship with Jinx.

suggestive | mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ

she just gets you, in a way that feels almost unfair—your moods, your silences, the exact way your face looks before you cry. she’s your best friend. your favorite person. no one else even comes close.

you’re too close, always. she climbs into your lap when she’s bored, you rest your head on her stomach when you’re tired. there’s giddy groping in the kitchen when you pass each other—her squeezing your ass with a cackle, you flicking her boob in retaliation. but it’s playful, harmless. she rests her chin on your shoulder when you cook and asks if you missed her when she was only gone a few hours. she calls you dollface when she wants something, baby if she wants everything.

there’s casual nudity—her walking around topless, underwear and bruised knees on full display. you follow her into the bath one night because the conversation is too good to stop. because being apart for even five minutes feels wrong. she’s already in, blue hair piled messily on top of her head, steam curling around her shoulders, bubbles up to her collarbone. you sit on the counter first—cross-legged, leaning forward, still talking. but then she looks up and says, “you comin’ in, or just gonna be weird about it?” she winks, you roll your eyes, and then you’re stripping.

it’s nothing scandalous, but it becomes routine—just skin against skin, knees brushing underwater, her calf resting over yours. she dunks her head under and comes back up laughing, water dripping from her lashes. sometimes she climbs in behind you, arms draped over your shoulders, chin hooked over your neck. she washes your back while humming, hands a bit too careful. you wash her hair, fingers gently massaging her scalp, and she closes her eyes like she might fall asleep right there. just girls being girls.

it’s normal to straddle one another when you do each other’s makeup. it’s practical, you say. efficient. your thighs pressed together, her thumb on your chin, her knee between yours. she teases you in public and curls into you in private. she knows what makes you spiral, and you know what calms her down. she tells you you’re pretty when you need to hear it. you tell her she’s safe, even when she doesn’t ask.

she bites when she feels too much. soft, shallow nips to your shoulder, your jaw, your collarbone. but she kisses you right after—sweet, soothing. and if someone asked, you’d laugh it off. “we’re just friends,” you’d say, knowing full well she’s asleep in your bed wearing your shirt, legs tangled with yours. knowing her lips were on your throat last night, just to “see if it would make you giggle.”

and you both get a little possessive, but it’s not like you’re jealous. you’re the one who hypes her up before her dates, tells her she looks hot when she’s already halfway out the door. you nudge her toward it like a good friend would. but deep down? god, you hope it sucks. you hope they’re boring. you hope she comes home early. because you’ll be there—conveniently—arms open, blanket ready, your voice soft and teasing: “should’ve just stayed in with me, huh?”

and it goes both ways. she helps you pick out an outfit, says “go get ’em” like she means it, but then spends the whole evening refreshing your location. when the night goes south, she’s already waiting, smug and warm and just a little too pleased. “see?” she says, tugging you into her lap like that’s normal. “told you they wouldn’t know what to do with you.” you mention someone cute and she freezes. she plays along, plays it cool—until you reach for your phone. she snatches it, tosses it aside, and climbs on top of you. “look at me when i’m talking, yeah?”

maybe it’s a little toxic, a little codependent, but neither of you care. because there’s comfort in being needed like that, in needing someone like that. in knowing that no one will ever know her like you do, and no one will ever know you like she does.

it’s not dating. it’s not sex. but it’s intimate, greedy, full of unsaid things. you’re not sure if you want her or want to be her or just want to be the only thing she reaches for when she’s spinning out.

and maybe you’re not in love. maybe you’re just hers, she’s yours, and that’s enough to ruin both of you.

can i ever shut my yap and write something that fits in a screenshot instead (no 🤍)

[whimsical--cat]

Operation Lover Boy: Declassified

Summary: BAU’s resident genius hid something from the team. As #1 Office Informant, Penelope Garcia swore she would get the truth out of him. Or Spencer had a secret girlfriend, and the team was about to find out.

Genre: Humor (kind of) with a dash of fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2638

Warnings: Mention of Spencer got shot, but he was fine, and it was kind of important to the plot.

Author Notes: This one is so much fun to write!!! The majority of this fanfic was written from Garcia’s POV, but I added a tiny bit of Spencer’s POV at the end of it.

Penelope might not be a profiler, but as (self-proclaimed) #1 Office Informant, who knew every tittle-tattle in each nook of the office, she sensed that the Boy Wonder hid something from the team (her) — she hasn’t figured out what yet. That, the part that bothered her the most. She didn’t like secrets when it came to her family. She understood that Reid was a private person, but what if the thing he hid from the team (her) got him into trouble? She just wanted to be a good friend, you know?

She noticed it around 2 months ago. It was subtle, and almost went on unnoticed at first. Right after Hotch said wheels up, Reid pulled out his phone from his pocket and texted someone. She initially thought he just needed to contact someone from the care facility his mother was in. But then it happened every single time just like clockwork. He always texted someone before they went to wherever the case whisked them away. In all the years Penelope has known the Boy Wonder, she never saw him texting someone that often, especially during office hours.

The text thing wasn’t the only one that she noticed, of course. Next was the fact that Reid has stopped hanging out in the bullpen after office hours. Shocking. She couldn’t believe her eyes when that happened. Most of the time he was no longer on his desk when Penelope walked to the elevator. What could he possibly be doing?

The last thing, and definitely the most shocking one happened when the team just finished a case in Portland last week. It was common for the team to go back to the office when they finished a case. But that wasn’t what happened that day. Once they were landed, Reid went straight home.

JJ said it was something to do with a new book he needed to pick up at the bookstore before closing time. Sure it was common knowledge that Boy Genius loved books, if he could live in the library, he probably would. Back to the main point, it’d take less than an hour if he came down to the office first, and she was certain that the bookstore would still be open by then.

What frustrated her even further was she had zero idea how he behaved on the field recently. The disadvantages of a desk job. Did he act differently? Did he also secretly text someone when the team was building the profile of their UnSub? She definitely needed an additional set of eyes and ears on the field. And who would fit this role better than her favorite Chocolate Thunder, hm?

The team was currently in San Diego, dealing with yet another serial killer. Morgan just happened to call her to do some digging, in hope it’d help build their profile further. Perfect timing.  A little chit-chat with your colleague during working hours wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Hey, before you go… Do you, perhaps, notice something going on with Reid?”

“What about Reid?”

Penelope immediately caught the change of tone in his voice. The playfulness in his voice was gone, and replaced with a concerned one. She knew how protective Morgan could be, especially when it came to Reid, and she felt bad for making him think something bad happened.

“No-no-no, I promise it’s not something bad. Well, I hope it’s not.”

“Garcia, what’s going on?”

So, she told him everything. Every little detail she had observed the last 2 months. How it drove her insane that she hadn’t figured out what was happening.

“Ah. I see.”

“Derek.” Her voice was firm even through the phone. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Well, now that you mentioned it. When we shared a room in Portland, he was almost never in the room by the time I finished my shower. Every time I asked him, he either said he just needed some air or took a phone call.”

“Is this what I think it is?” She gasped as she came to a realization. “I don’t even want to say it out loud — afraid I might jinx it.”

“You think Pretty Boy hides a Pretty Girl from all of us?”

If anyone listened close enough, they would recognize her squeal through the phone. “OH GOD. Is this really happening to our Einstein?”

“Maybe. I can keep an eye on him for you.”

“You know me too well. This is why I love you.”

“Alright, baby girl, I gotta go.”

Throughout the investigation, as promised, Morgan kept feeding Penelope new information. Thanks to the additional findings from him, her suspicion was correct. Reid had been constantly texting someone while on duty. Not all the time, of course. But he’d make time to take a little break to text someone.

When they were back to the hotel, as expected, Reid left the room again once Morgan took a shower. One time, after his shower, Morgan searched for Reid, and found him in the lobby, making a phone call. He lingered for a bit, and discovered that Boy Genius was apologizing to whoever he had a phone call with — explaining that unfortunately it took them longer to solve the case, so he wouldn’t be back any time soon. Based on Morgan’s observation, he definitely talked to a special lady friend.

After 6 long days, the team finally managed to catch the UnSub. When they cornered the UnSub, unfortunately Reid got shot on his arm — they had to stay another night until the hospital discharged him. Hotch had instructed him to take a few days off, starting effectively the moment they were back to Quantico. 

Penelope, as the best friend that she was, had suggested that if they didn’t have any pre-existing plans on the weekend, they should go visit Reid together. Sadly, not all the team members could go. With Morgan and Emily on both of her sides, they stood in front of Reid’s apartment door.

After a few knocks, the door was finally opened. They had expected Boy Genius to open the door, probably in his pajamas or any comfy loungewear he’d usually wear at home. What they didn’t expect however was a woman, wearing a CalTach hoodie (most definitely his hoodie) and shorts, opening the door. You looked completely cozy at his apartment. Emily even did a double-take on the apartment number, in case they knocked on the wrong door.

“Hey. Are you guys Spencer’s friends?” The sweet girl hesitantly asked them.

“Yes. We work with him.” Emily chimed in, and they could hear the amusement in her voice.

“Oh! The BAU! Come in. He’s still asleep though.” You stepped aside to let them in.

As the 3 of them stood in the living room, they watched you go to  what they assumed was Reid’s bedroom. They heard some noise from inside the room, you probably tried to wake him up.

The grin that had taken its rightful place on Penelope’s face from the moment you opened the front door hadn’t faded — her face started to hurt a little, but she didn’t care. Dr. Spencer Reid actually hid a girlfriend from them!

“Do you know about any of this?” Emily whispered from her right.

“Uh-hu, I had suspected it for almost 2 months.” 

After a while, you re-emerged from the bedroom, Reid was hot on your tail. That was also the moment he realized that the two of you had companies.

“Hm, hey, guys.” Reid stood awkwardly next to you.

“Pretty Boy is hiding a Pretty Girl from us this entire time?” Morgan’s signature smirk was on full display on his face.

“Right. This is Morgan, Garcia, and Emily.” Clearing his throat, Reid turned toward you, and introduced you. “This is my girlfriend.”

You, who looked completely entertained throughout the exchange, said your name. “Spencer talks about you guys a lot. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Penelope, who had been keeping her excitement at bay, finally exploded. “And we sadly had heard nothing about you, sweet girl. Our Einstein here clearly wants to keep you for himself.”

“I understand that Spencer is a private person, and I want to respect his wish to keep this between us.”

“Can I hug you? Please, I want to hug you.” Penelope looked at you with her pleading eyes.

“Sure.” You chuckled at her request.

They spent the next few hours chatting in Reid’s living room, grilling the couple with many questions regarding their relationship. They all were simultaneously shocked and amazed when they learned that the two of you had been together for 7 months! Boy Wonder managed to keep his relationship private for 7 months. Who would’ve thought?

What actually shocked them the most was when they learned how you two first met. Apparently, from time to time you did dog-sitting, and you usually took the dogs for a walk to this one particular park. That was where you met Reid.

One fateful day, the dog you took to the park ran towards Reid and quite literally knocked him off of the bench. You immediately apologized to him, and offered if there was something you could do to make it up to him. He easily brushed it off, saying it was nobody’s fault. With  a funny twist of fate, you two kept seeing each other in that park from that day on. At some point, Reid finally gathered his courage, and asked if you were single. Once you said yes, he asked again whether or not you wanted to go on a date with him. The rest was history.

Their conversation flew effortlessly, bouncing from one topic to another. They shared some (embarrassing) stories about Reid to you. As if it was possible, his ears visibly got redder with each story they shared. You seemed to enjoy the whole interaction. Seeing this side of Boy Wonder, one where he engaged with his closest friends, you’ve never seen before.

Penelope just had to tell you how happy she was knowing that Reid had you in his life. He smiled at that statement. A smile that she had never seen before. Surely it was something that was intended to be kept for a more intimate moment between the two of you.

Not only did they share stories of Reid, they also asked some questions about you. They wanted to know more about the woman who clearly had stolen the heart of one Dr. Spencer Reid. So you told them about where you grew up, what kind of job you do, what you do in your spare time, and many more.

You even confirmed that yes indeed Boy Genius always texted you before the team traveled to deal with the bad guy. Another shocking truth when you revealed it was actually his idea to have a nightly phone call when he was away. Who would’ve thought that Reid was a romantic?

“You do realize that once this story reaches the rest of the team, you have to retell it all over again for them, right?” Morgan teased him.

“Right. It’s only fair for them to hear it, too.” Emily added in.

“I hate you guys.” Reid groaned, then buried his face in his hands.

“No, you don’t.” Penelope cheerfully responded. “Once JJ knows about this too, we should have a girl’s night!” This time she talked to you.

“Sure.” — “No!” The two of you answered at the same time.

It caused all of you to burst out laughing, well except for Reid. In defeat, he threw his head to the back of the couch. Accepting the impending endless teasing from the team that he was sure wouldn’t die down any time soon. She caught how you brushed his knuckles, perhaps trying to calm him. A soft smile adorned Penelope’s face at the loving gesture.

When it was time for them to go home, you two walked them to the front door. To Reid’s dismay, of course Penelope had to ask for your number before they left — really solidified the upcoming girl’s night that could happen any time soon.

“See you on Monday, Lover Boy.” Morgan waved at you two as he walked towards the stairs.

“I’ll text you later, sweet girl.”

---

Once the door was closed, Spencer wanted to hit his head on the door so badly. This was exactly why he kept his relationship private. Not that he was ashamed of you, or his relationship — no, he loved you dearly. However he had a noisy group of friends. He knew this would eventually happen, but still, he wished he could keep it private for a bit longer.

Probably sensing his distress, you turned him around so he’d look at you. “It wasn’t that bad. I like seeing your friends, and they’re clearly happy for you. For us.” Clearing your throat, before continuing. “It also makes me happy knowing it’s me that makes you happy.”

He gently stroked your cheek, and pleased when you immediately leaned into his touch. “Of course you make me happy, sweetheart. I guess I’m doing such a poor job on showing how grateful I am to have you in my life if you ever doubt that.” He kissed your forehead, and his lips lingered seconds too long. “I love you.”

“I love you too, genius. I hope you’re ready for Monday.”

“Please don’t remind me.”

A serial killer didn’t catch a break over the weekend unfortunately, because Hotch had contacted the team to gather in the round-table room first thing first on Monday. On the other hand, Spencer was thankful, it meant they would immediately discuss the case, and they wouldn’t have time to tease him about his relationship.

This time, the case would take them to Austin. The local PD had requested the assistance of the BAU on their ongoing investigation. Once Hotch announced wheels up, and the team was about to get ready, Garcia however stopped them. She encouraged him to tell the rest of the team. They were back to their seats, and staring at him with knowing looks. Fantastic.

So, dejectedly he disclosed his relationship to the rest of the team. There were a few gasps from JJ and Rossi who weren’t at his apartment then. Even Hotch looked somewhat pleased with this newest discovery.

“Go on, Lover Boy. Aren’t you going to text your girl?” Of course it was Morgan who started it.

“I can’t believe you managed to keep it private this long, kid.” Rossi joined in.

“Maybe we should grab a drink when we’re back, and invite her to join us, Spence.” JJ added with amusement in her voice.

“Oh, that’s a fun idea! You better tell her soon, Doc. If you don’t, remember that I have her phone number, and I’ll definitely do it.” Garcia threatened him but with so much glee in her tone.

With a long heavy sigh, Spencer admitted his defeat. “Fine. I’ll tell her.”

One by one, the team started leaving the room — getting their stuff ready for the trip. Morgan patted his back before leaving the room. Spencer still sat in his seat, pulling out his phone to text you. 

Spencer [08:47]: We’re going to Austin this time. You [08:48]: Please be safe. Did you survive the interrogation? Spencer [08:49]: I will. It could’ve been worse. The whole team wants to meet you when we’re back. Garcia threatened me that she’ll personally contact you if I don’t inform you. You [08:50]: Do you think I should meet them? Spencer [08:51]: Yes, but only if you’re comfortable with it. You [08:52]: Well, I guess I’ll see everyone when the case is over.

Spencer put his phone back in his pocket. The corner of his mouth quirked up. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that the team now knew about you.

[junezsq]

dance with me?

harry james potter x fem!reader

summary: after getting ditched by your date your night at the yule ball seems to be getting worse by the minute, until you bump into harry, who coincidentally also got ditched

warnings: bit of angst turning into fluff, nothing else really

word count: 2.9k

a/n: the order of events in the books/movie is kinda switched up so i could make them fit the narrative in this lmfao. hope you enjoy <3

── ᵎᵎ ✦

the dormitory was quiet, save for the muffled noise of laughter and footsteps drifting up from the common room below. you were perched on the edge of your bed, legs swinging slightly and hands clasped in your lap as you waited for hermione to finish changing behind the curtain drawn around her bed. the air smells faintly of lavender, and the soft rustle of fabric is the only sound between you.

then the curtain pulled back and hermione stepped out.

you blink. for a second, you're genuinely stunned. the periwinkle blue of her dress robes caught the low light in a way that made her look like something out of a fairy tale; elegant and radiant in a way you’d never quite seen her before.

“wow,” you breathed, a slow smile tugging at your lips. “hermione… you look beautiful.”

she blushed immediately, glancing down at herself before tucking a curl behind her ear. “thank you.” her voice was softer than usual, touched by something shy and proud all at once. “i wasn’t sure about it at first, to be honest.”

“you shouldn’t have doubted it,” you said, meaning it. “you’re going to turn so many heads tonight.”

she rolled her eyes at that, but she was smiling. her eyes flickered to you where you were still in your jeans and the sweatshirt you’d gotten from mrs. weasley just that morning. “all right, it’s your turn. go on, change! we don’t have all night,” she urged, hands waving you toward your trunk.

you hesitate, heart giving a strange little jump. “yeah… alright.” you made your way over, pulling the dress out and slipping behind your own curtain. the satin felt cool against your skin, and as you wriggled into it, your nerves started to rise. after smoothing it down not once, but twice, you glanced into the little mirror propped on your nightstand.

the dress was beautiful, objectively; floor-length, sleeveless, simple in design but rich in color. but on you? you didn’t step out immediately. “it’s kind of weird, isn’t it?” you called softly. “wearing green. as a gryffindor.”

hermione’s voice was warm and immediate. “one of the slytherin’s might send you a nasty look, but who cares about them? green’s lovely on you.”

you bit your lip and finally stepped out. her eyes widened, and she beamed. “oh, wow.”

you crossed your arms over your stomach, suddenly feeling exposed. “i don’t know. it just feels… not me. or too much me. i can’t decide.”

hermione got up from her bed and walked over to you, placing her hands gently on your shoulders. “you look stunning,” she smiled, her gaze steady. “green suits you. honestly, you could wear a green rubbish bag and still look beautiful.”

you laughed, but it sounded nervous. “i don’t know if i should even go. i mean… the one person i wanted to go with asked someone else.”

her expression softened. she knew. of course she knew; she was the only one who did.

“hey,” she spoke gently, “i know it’s not harry, but that doesn’t mean the whole night has to be ruined. you’ve got a date who seems really kind, you’re dressed like a goddess, and you’ve got at least one friend who plans on making sure you have a good time no matter what.”

your heart squeezed. “you’re really good at this whole ‘pep talk’ thing.”

she grinned as she looped her arm through yours, “come on, let’s go make an entrance.”

you hesitate for one last second. then, with a breath and a final check over your shoulder, you nodded. together, you headed down the winding staircase toward the common room, the soft swish of your dress and the flicker of firelight mingling with your growing excitement.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:

the music swelled, and after watching the four champions start off the dancing sequence you let your date guide you out onto the floor of the great hall, now transformed into a winter wonderland. candles flickered like stars above, casting a golden sheen across the swirling gowns and polished shoes.

you glanced up at your date, a tall boy from ravenclaw. he bowed, you curtsied and the first notes of the waltz began. you could almost hear mcgonagall counting at the back of your mind; one-two-three, one-two-three.

you moved in unison, steps careful at first, then more fluid as you found the rhythm together. his hand was warm against yours, his other lightly resting at your waist. you spun beneath his arm, the hem of your dress fluttering at the movement. around you, couples twirled like snowflakes, and for a few heartbeats, the rest of the world melted away.

when the music faded into polite applause, you were breathless but smiling. he squeezed your hand gently. “i’ll get us something to drink,” he spoke softly, and you nodded before he disappeared into the crowd.

a gasp and your name being called caught your attention and as you turned around you saw lavender brown holding onto the arm of a hufflepuff you didn't seem to recognise. her eyes were widened as they went over your outfit, "your dress! i love it!"

you smiled at the sweet compliment. you'd never really been close to lavender but she'd always been kind to you, "thanks lavender, you look beautiful too."

"thank you." she returned your smile, "well, we're going in for a few more dances, see you around!" she squeezed her date's arm and they swept away before you could say anything else, her dress flaring dramatically as she went.

while your eyes followed them as they walked off they caught the sight of someone who was clearly your date, sweet talking a girl from beauxbatons. you squinted and took a few steps closer to get a better look only to find out his arm was cozily wrapped around her waist.

a scoff fell from your lips. you hadn’t even wanted to go with him. he was the fourth guy to have asked you and it felt easier saying yes than no by then, easier than explaining that you were still waiting for someone else to ask; someone who probably wasn't going to ask you anyway.

you weren’t heartbroken, not even close, but irritation flared anyway, like he’d wasted your time, like you'd worn these damn shoes for nothing. you let out a breath, slow and quiet, as the music swelled around you. the lights felt too warm suddenly. the laughter too loud. the enchanted snow drifting from the ceiling too perfect.

without thinking you turned and walked toward the exit, the train of your dress catching slightly on the stone floor as you moved. the corridor outside was blissfully cooler, empty save for the faint echo of music and your own footsteps.

you had barely rounded the corner when you collided into someone with a quiet “oof.” you staggered back a step, your hand flying to your chest. "sorry-"

“it’s alright,” said a familiar voice and when you looked up you saw him.

one of your best friends, harry potter, stood blinking at you, looking as charming as ever in his brand new dress robes. “oh,” you breathed, and suddenly your pulse felt louder than the music. “hi.”

his mouth curved into the faintest smile, almost sheepish. “hi. are you leaving?”

for a moment you hesitated; you could still feel the ghost of annoyance in your chest, but it was softening now, replaced by a flicker of something else.

“i was heading to the bathroom,” technically not a lie. you gave him a lopsided shrug. “needed some air.”

he nodded, then looked like he wanted to say something more. “so … your date ... is he still in there?”

your fingers tightened slightly around the fabric of your dress. “oh you mean edmund, uhh, yeah,” your voice sounded even, maybe too even. you didn’t want to get into it, didn’t want to admit how annoyed you were, or how stupid you felt for saying yes in the first place.

harry nodded slowly, like he could sense there was more you weren’t saying, but wasn’t going to push. you gave a small shrug, aiming for casual. “i just needed a break. it’s loud in there.”

he gave a quiet, sympathetic laugh. “tell me about it."

“what about you? who did you end up with?”

harry blinked, a little caught off guard. “uh, parvati” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “i just went to the bathroom too, actually. she's grabbing us drinks.”

you studied him, noticing the slight hesitation, the way his eyes flicked toward the hall before settling back on you, and how his story sounded a bit too similar to yours. “drinks?” you repeated, tone light but probing.

he shrugged, voice a bit quieter now. “yeah. you know… pumpkin fizz and all that.”

you studied him. there was something he wasn’t saying, something he was careful to keep between the lines. "alright, well i'm going to-" you tilted your head slightly but harry quickly caught on, "yeah, yeah i'm going to find parvati, i guess."

a small smiled played on your lips and you tried your hardest not to let the sad tone fall through, "have a good night, harry." you spoke softly before walking past him and continued on towards the bathroom, not noticing how harry turned to watch you walk off.

you walked slowly now, letting the corridor stretch out before you. the music behind you faded into something distant and muffled. the heels of your shoes clicked softly against the stone, the only real sound in the quiet.

the bathroom was empty when you pushed the door open, the enchanted torches flickering gently against the walls. you didn’t bother looking at yourself in the mirror, but went straight for one of the stalls. after closing the door behind you, you sat down on the closed lid like the air had been punched out of your lungs.

for a moment you just sat there, staring at nothing, the layers of your dress gathered awkwardly around your legs. it was stupid, really. edmund wasn’t someone you even cared that much about. harry… well, that was its own mess. and still, somehow, everything felt like too much. too loud. too heavy. too disappointing.

your throat tightened and you blinked hard.

no. not here.

you leaned forward, elbows on your knees, hands twisted together as you pressed your lips together, forcing the air out through your nose in slow, steady breaths. a tear slipped down anyway, tracing a warm line down your cheek. you wiped it away before the next one could fall, though.

It wasn’t just tonight. It was all of it. expectations, hopes, the quiet letdowns you never admitted you were bracing for. the ball had been shiny and beautiful, and somehow it had still managed to make you feel like you were on the outside of it all.

but then you thought of the corridor. of harry’s sheepish grin. of the way he’d looked at you like he saw you, even if only for a moment. you straightened slowly, letting out a breath that felt like it had been sitting in your chest for days.

no. you weren’t going to let this ruin your night.

eventually you escaped the small stall, smoothed your dress, checked your face in the mirror, your eyes were a little red, but not tragic, and gave yourself the smallest nod.

and so, you pushed the door open and stepped back into the corridor, the music growing louder again as you turned toward the light. time to go make the night fun anyway. even if it was just for you.

you were just rounding the bend near the marble staircase, the glow of torchlight stretching across the floor in front of you, when you heard it; soft, choked sniffling.

you slowed and at first you thought it might be peeves playing some horrible trick, but as you came around the curve, your heart sank. hermione.

she was sitting near the middle of the stairs, half tucked into herself, her arms wrapped around her knees. her dress, now a little wrinkled, spilled across the steps like it didn’t matter anymore. her face was turned away, but you could see the way her shoulders trembled.

you hesitated only a second before moving toward her. “hey,” you spoke gently, not wanting to startle her.

she flinched slightly before glancing up, eyes red and glistening, and quickly wiped at them with the back of her hand. “oh. sorry- didn’t mean to-”

“it’s alright, mione” you said, already sitting down beside her. “bathrooms are taken anyway.” she let out a watery laugh, and you offered a small smile in return.

for a moment, neither of you spoke; you didn’t want to push, but you hated the way her hands clenched the fabric of her dress, like she needed something to hold onto. “is it… krum?” you asked gently. “did he say something?”

hermione shook her head quickly. “no. viktor’s… he’s been nothing but kind.”

you nodded slowly, giving her space. she looked away again. “it’s just-” her voice broke, and she took a deep breath. “it’s not really about him. not exactly.” you knitted your brows in slight confusion. her jaw tightened, and when she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “boys can be so stupid sometimes.”

you let out a breath and let out a knowing chuckle. “yeah, they can.”

she returned your laugh, but there was too much sadness behind it. you didn’t need all the details. something to do with ron, probably. the way he’d been staring at her and krum all evening like someone had hexed him in the face with jealousy and hadn’t told him why.

"where's edmund?" hermione looked at you worriedly, as if she wasn't the one just crying her eyes out.

you lightly shook your head as you rolled your eyes, "probably snogging a girl from beauxbatons somewhere in one of the courtyard bushes."

"oh no, i'm sorry."

"no, it's alright, you know i didn't want to go with him," you spoke softly, “do you want to come back in? we could get some more pumpkin fizz, go for a dance.”

hermione shook her head. “i think i’m just going to go back to the dorm. i’m tired.”

you didn’t argue. instead, you stood and offered her your hand. she took it and you helped her up gently. for a moment she just stood there, looking small and a little worn out, her fingers still loosely wrapped around yours. “thanks,” she said quietly.

you gave her hand a light squeeze. “anytime, mione, you know that”

and as she turned to head up the staircase, you watched her go, her silhouette slipping into shadow. when she'd completely disappeared you turned back toward the great hall, the music still playing faintly, and started walking.

eventually, you found yourself at the threshold of the great hall, just outside the glow of its golden enchantment. music floated out warmly, cheerful and unaware, while students spun and laughed beneath drifting snow and starlight. it looked perfect from a distance.

you weren’t sure if you wanted to step back into it or turn around and follow hermione to the dorms. as you shifted your weight, the hem of your dress brushed against your ankles, and you took a slow breath.

“hey.”

the voice made you jump slightly and when you turned, you found harry standing right next to you, hands shoved into his pockets again. “sorry,” he added quickly. “didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

you shook your head. “it’s alright.”

“i, um… saw edmund.” harry’s voice was careful, like he wasn’t sure if he should say it at all. “in one of the side corridors. he was... uh... definitely not by himself.”

you didn’t say anything, but he rushed on, filling the space. “he was snogging someone. from beauxbatons, i think. blonde, tall, looked like she knew exactly what she was doing.”

you stared past him, lips pressing together. you weren’t surprised. not after seeing them flirting earlier that night, and you almost laughed at how you’d predicted this when talking to hermione earlier. “i’m sorry,” harry spoke in almost whisper, sounding like he meant it.

you let out a quiet breath. “it's fine, i didn’t even want to come with him.”

harry gave a faint, dry laugh. “yeah. i kind of get that.”

you glanced at him, curious despite yourself, your brows furrowed together. he shifted on his feet. “parvati ditched me for some durmstrang bloke. the one with the ponytail and, what I’m assuming are very impressive cheekbones.”

you snorted; it slipped out before you could stop it, causing harry to focus his gaze on you, and you looked at him again, really looked. you could see that same flicker of uncertainty you’d felt earlier. not just his night ruined, him, standing here, trying to decide if it was still worth salvaging. just like you.

“guess we’re in the same boat,” you breathed, not being able to look away from his piercing green eyes.

“yeah,” he replied, his voice a little lighter now. “except… i think ours hasn’t completely sunk yet.”

you raised an eyebrow. “no?”

he shook his head, then held out his hand to you. “dance with me?”

you blinked. for a second, all you could hear was the music filtering through the open doors. you looked at his hand, then at him; his earnest eyes, slightly crooked collar, and that unsure little smile that somehow made you feel steadier.

so, you returned his smile, and took his hand in yours.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

SOUNDTRACK // totally, inhaler

TAGLIST // @callsigncrushx @moonjellyfishie @accio-mayachhiato @iyskgd @bakugouswaif

[sweet-s0rr0w]

Microfic: Inhale

for @drarrymicrofic. unbetaed, and i'm sure there's mistakes, and apparently four years hasn't made me any better at the micro part! cw: suicide

Happy birthday @wolfpants! i'm sorry it's a bit of a sad one :D

***

Harry inhales.

When he opens his eyes, he finds himself back at Hogwarts, standing in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. He’s surrounded by a mist so pervasive he can see barely twenty feet in any direction, though it’s nothing like the dense gloomy Highlands fog he knows. This mist is brighter, otherworldly in its brilliance, and it's with a lurch of his stomach that Harry understands: he might have stood on this patch of grass dozens of times, but he’s only been here once before, and the last time round it looked like a railway platform.

He's not alone this time, either: there’s a man in the centre of the pitch, kneeling over two brooms. White hair on white mist; even so, it takes a while to make the connection. It’s been years, after all.

Harry clears his throat. I didn’t think I’d see you here, he means to say, but it comes out wrong. “I didn’t think I’d be here.”

Malfoy looks up, startled. “Well, hello to you too,” he says, in that snobbish, snotty, teenage voice Harry now hears only in his dreams. “I’d say I didn’t think I’d see you here either, but then shoving your partner out of the way so you can take a Reducto to the chest actually seems rather on-brand for Harry bloody Potter.”

It’s almost funny, except for all the ways in which it isn’t. Malfoy’s so young still, barefoot, his toes digging into the mist-damp grass. His robes are Azkaban-issue, comically large; he has to bunch them up in one hand as he gets to his feet.

“This place is an in-between,” Malfoy begins, spreading his arms to indicate their surroundings. Harry’s eyes catch on his left cuff, which is brown on the inside, a faded bloodstain blooming almost up to the elbow. Malfoy catches Harry looking, and drops his hands quickly to his sides.

“I know what this place is,” says Harry quickly. “I’ve done it before, remember?”

“Of course you have,��� Malfoy says, tired. “Well, I suppose that makes my job easier. If you know where you are, you know what happens next.”

Harry’s chest feels odd, suddenly, empty of air. He presses a hand against it, finds his clothes damp with the mist. “What happens next,” he says, considering. “You going to give me a load of platitudes, say some vague stuff about death, and then let me choose whether to stay here or go back?”

Malfoy snorts. “Hardly. Fuck Dumbledore, honestly. And I’m not daft, Potter, I know you’ll go back. You’ve got people who… I mean, you’ve got people, haven’t you.” He glares at Harry, cheeks pink with embarrassment. “I just thought we might play some Quidditch before you leave. If you want.”

“Yeah,” says Harry. “Yeah, alright then.”

Harry captains his Sunday league team, and Malfoy’s been dead for five years, so it shouldn’t be close, not really, but this is the in-between place, and this is Malfoy, infuriating relentless Malfoy, with teenage reflexes and stamina to boot. Malfoy plays like he has no fear, which is probably true, and like he has nothing to lose, which is definitely true, and it is close. The Snitch is barely visible through the endless mist, and the two of them end up flying neck and neck over hills and valleys, arms outstretched towards every celestial glimmer. It’s Malfoy who makes the catch in the end, breathless and beautiful, laughing and laughing and so full of life as he heads back to the stadium. The scar on his wrist is clear to see, red raw as he lifts his fist up to the sky, and Harry flies over beside him, catching his outstretched arm. The wound’s a little jagged in the middle, like maybe he changed his mind halfway through.

“I was there, for the Wizengamot,” Harry tells him, quietly, as they land together on the pitch. “I was going to speak for you.”

Malfoy makes a pained noise, turning his face aside. He opens his fist, lets the Snitch disappear off into endless white, and Harry slips his own hand in its place. There’s a rushing, roaring sound in his ears that’s growing harder to ignore.

“Decided what you’re doing yet, Potter?” Malfoy asks, voice tight. “It’s almost time, you know.” He moves to pull his hand back, but Harry tightens his grip.

“What about you?”

Malfoy snorts. “Me? What do you think?”

The roaring sound’s louder now. Harry can make out voices. Ron’s, maybe, and Robards’. There’s the whoosh of rapid casting, the pop of Apparition, and somewhere far off, a child is screaming.

Back in the silent in-between, Malfoy waits, eyes bright.

“Well?” he asks, squeezing Harry’s hand.

Harry inhales.

[lilolebambi]

THE AFTERMATH OF BAMBI!READER'S AND PUPPY!CHRIS'S VOICEMAILS. . .

Chris stared at his phone, thumb hovering over the screen. Days had passed since the voicemails, but still. You guys haven't talked.

He thought time would smooth it over. That things would just click back into place, like they always had. They hadn't.

Chris exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. How does he fix this? Is there a fix?

He wants to text you to reach out—But that wouldn't be right after what both of you admitted in those voicemails... he's honestly not even sure if you listened to them.

He bites his lip, mind zooming to figure out any non shitty way of getting in contact with you.

He shoots up immediately from his bed, planting his feet on the floor.

Cookies.

The ones you always make whenever you guys have a petty argument, the ones you always make whenever Chris says he isn't feeling good or feels sad.

Chris can make cookies.

Chris can't make cookies.

He's tried. So, so many times. And yet, somehow, the universe had decided that flour, sugar, and eggs will never bend to his will.

There's a reason why he's always the one sitting on the counter, watching you get covered in flour, giggling at the streak of batter on your cheek like this is some kind performance meant for him alone.

The last batch of cookies rests abandoned in the trash can—a tragic waste of chocolate chips and his good intentions. He can't how many times he's had to restart the recipe, standing there like a idiot every single time someone comes into the kitchen, rereading the instructions as if they'll magically change, finally start to make sense to him.

He gets it, eventually. When flours all in his hair and caked up on his hands.

He sucks in a deep breath as he rings the doorbell. It's not late, but it's you—You can barely make it through the day without a nap.

Chris's relief is immediate when your groggy figure makes its way to the door. Even more when you open it. "Chris....?" You mumble, rubbing your eye sleepily, blinking him into focus.

He swallows hard, gripping the container in his hands like it might anchor him. Like it might steady him when his heart is anything but.

"Um... I–I made...you cookies."

The words come out uneven, but it's too late for him to take them back. He pushes the container forward, hands clumsy, unsure if you'll actually take it.

Then, softer—more raw—because he can't keep it in anymore. "I miss you. Really bad, Bambi."

Chris can already feel the tears gathering, blurring the edge of his vision. His lip trembles—enough to betray him, make him wish he could it hold together just a second longer.

But then, you smile.

That, familiar, achingly missed smile. The one that used to make everything feel better, the one that still does.

He's done for. Completely, absolutely done for.

You giggle, voice warm with something that Chris has been craving since the silence started. "C'mere you, big baby!

And that's it. The last bit of composure slips from his grip as he moves forward, pulling you close.

He's home.

no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her. — Hozier.

a/n: if the lord didn't forgive me, i'd still have my baby and my babe would have me.

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @domizmez @drewswife @strnilolover @sirensdollesque @courta13 @trulygentle @mattslilies @sturns-mermaid @bluetalia @pair-of-pantaloons @y2kstarr @sugarraez @sweeethrt @moond0llie @ambi-squirrelly @wastelandzella @applecidersturniolo @riasturns @iloveduckssm @oopsiedaisydeer @sturnsflirt @cayleeuhithinknott @h3arts4nat @angelyearner @pink1man @sturnsblogs @mi-co-uk @slvt4subchratt @tezzzzzzzz @chrisbratt333 @izzylovesmatt @chrisowenmuncher

[kedreeva]

3 things i want to add, because there are definitely folks that I've had to teach this stuff to: keeping an open mind is not going to be enough, with how misinformation is spreading these days.

Take the example: "I just think fluoride in the water does X"

Thoughts /like this/ don't come from nowhere. When you have "I just think" thought, or "maybe" thoughts, or you notice yourself learning or having a new opinion from one you've previously had, this can OFTEN be mistaken as growth, as improving.

So, #1: Determine where you got that new opinion/fact. Did it come from a reliable source? Can you even ID where you got the idea from or did you just sort of "absorb" it from hearing it around? (an example: there are PLENTY of 'old wives tales' type bits of information floating around. One of the more common ones I see in chicken keeping is people recommending apple cider vinegar for everything, despite a complete lack of scientific evidence that apple cider does.... well, anything, aside from slightly inflame the GI tract due to acidity. The info doesn't come from science, it comes from one person saying it and others playing Telephone until "everyone knows" except no one actually does know)

#2: if it didn't come from a reliable source, is there a reliable source that actually backs it up? Is there more than one? Are there any extenuating circumstances or conflicts of interest evident? Does the "news headline" of the story match what the source material actually says or did it sensationalize it? (an example: I OFTEN hear people quoting that opossums eat 5000 ticks in a season. This isn't true. Opossums eat no ticks. There was ONE poorly done study that "found" they groomed them off and ate them, compared to 28 other studies that found zero tick parts in stomach contents or fecal matter from opossums. Which is a more reliable "fact" in this instance? I'm going with 28 studies that found opossums don't eat ticks).

And perhaps most important to not finding yourself calcifying propaganda or false info: #3 How do you KNOW the source is reliable? where did the source get their info/how was that info acquired? Were there any conflicts of interest? Has the info been corroborated by anyone else? How long ago was the info generated? Is there anything that might pressure this source into being unreliable? When was the last time you checked who runs the source and how? (example: chicken world again, there was a pretty well known chicken blogger who was releasing medical info on birds, particularly nutritional info, and recommending diets to people, as well as food additives. Even slightly scratching the surface revealed she was heavily recommending Purina products not because they were actually good [they are NOT, Purina is one of the worst for fowl feeds], but because her blog was sponsored by Purina... not exactly unbiased opinions being given)

Part of questioning information is questioning the sources for your information, not just the info itself.

That is one of the huge reasons FOX news has managed to get its hooks into people like my parents; the moment they decided that FOX news was a completely reliable source and stopped questioning where FOX got their info (and whether THAT source was reliable), they started going down the rabbit hole of mind calcification and falling for propaganda, to the point where my mother - a woman who worked for like 40 years in a research lab specifically for respiratory illness research - got angry with my sister during early COVID times when my sister insisted they get vaxxed/had to wear PPE before they were allowed to visit their vulnerable newborn grandkid.

So yes, examine the beliefs/opinions/"facts" you know, but remember that part of that is examining the sources of those things.

[tttabii]

── 西村 力 EYES ON YOU ; NISHIMURA RIKI

pairing ୭ bad boy! ni-ki x student council president! reader.

word count: 9162 ; mentions of ni-ki and the others smoking cigarettes, fluff, college au!

THE STUDENT COUNCIL OFFICE WAS unnaturally still save for the swish of the papers as you flipped through another round of proposals for the festival. All the ideas had been swimming around in everyone's heads since the fall festival only a month away; some of them were truly imaginative and some just downright stupid.

You let out a tired sigh as you stamped "Approved" on a handful of ideas that might actually have a chance: a food fair, with international dishes made by students, a photobooth with a vintage train design, and a long horror escape house that jumped off the page. You had to admit it was smart. If executed well, they could get interest from other nearby schools and also be a plus on the academy's record. That was worth approving.

You finished up the last file and then you heard it; that knock. You had become used to it. Annoyingly familiar like a ringtone you had grown too tired to change. 

You groaned. "Ni-ki... what now."

When you opened the door you saw the same sight: Nishimura Riki with a crumpled piece of paper in hand and an annoyingly smug smile like he had already won. 

"I know the deadline's over, but come on—just take a look at it," he said, holding out the paper with those stupid puppy eyes he always used when trying to get his way.

You crossed your arms. "No. A deadline's a deadline. I'm not making exceptions for some dumb festival stunt of yours."

You were closing the door when he stuck his foot in like his mother owned the place, and let out an exaggerated sigh. Rolling your eyes, you back at your desk, regretting not locking the damn thing.

He strolled in with bravado. "Come on, baby. Just this once."

You gave him a glare, your heart beating just a bit faster with that term of endearment, which only annoyed you more."I'm not your baby. And you can stop calling me that. This isn't one of your little games."

But you took the paper out of his hand anyway. Because, of course, you always ended up hearing him out, no matter how much you told yourself not to.

You quickly scanned the proposal. A foam party.A real foam party. It sounded absurd and almost genius.You cocked an eyebrow. "And who exactly ae you doing this with?"

He leaned on the edge of your desk with ease. "My bros. We've been talking about it for a while."

You sigh quietly and gave the paper back. "I'll think about it. But don't get your hopes up."

He laughed, clearly enjoying the moment, and began stepping away from you to head to the door. "I won't. but you are going to approve it, I know you can't resist a good-looking guy with an agenda."

You dismissed him, "Go away."

He walked away, but not before catching the way your eyes lingered a second too long on his outfit. He has seen it, he knew it. You never stared outright—but with guys who know how to dress, he knew he could expect your attention, whether you liked it or not.

The next morning, the wind was light as you walked up the few stairs of the school, the white sundress flowing around your knees. You wore your bag slung over one shoulder, your glasses slipping down your nose as your eyes tried to focus on the paper in your hand. You were mentally reviewing your schedule for the day, already dreading the backlog of reports you'd have to approve.

You'd seen Ni-ki earlier, surrounded by a couple of girls leaning against a tree, wearing that obnoxious smile that surely belonged on the cover of a magazine. You ignored him, as you always did.

But of course, he had to announce his presence. He deliberately collided with you, and before you had a chance to do anything, he had snagged your glasses off your face, holding them above him like a smug toddler with a toy.

"Ni-ki!" You shifted your arms to reach for them, annoyed. "Give them back!"

He just grinned like he was in on the joke, and held them a little higher. "Nope. Not until you say please."

You stood on your tiptoes again to reach, and one hand instinctively gripped his arm for balance. Standing that close, he could see everything. The soft curve to your lashes, the blush on your cheeks, the way your eyes appeared so much clearer and prettier and more... you without the frames.

"You know," he leaned in and teased, "you look so much better without these."

Without warning, his other hand slipped around your waist, steadying you when you almost lost your balance. You jolted, realizing it was him, and stepped back instantly. "You're such a nuisance," you muttered, snatching your glasses from his hand and hurrying off toward the student council office, vision still slightly blurred.

Behind you, a few boys turned to look to take a good look at you.

And Ni-ki noticed.

Oh, they were definitely going to be a problem.

As the girls from earlier tried to distract him, laughing too loudly and clinging to his arm, Ni-ki wasn't paying attention. His eyes were still on you.

You had just rubbed your eyes tiredly, while waving small hellos to your fellow student council members. Your dress was hugging you beautifully perfect—elegant while also feeling effortlessly comfortable.

Your hair was down with soft waves and a small white bunny pin on the side, held back just enough. Your bangs framed your face gently, loose and natural. He thought you looked way too cute for someone who claimed to be tired.

His eyes dropped down to your lips. You had put a light gloss on your lips—subtle and pretty but also dangerous. He wondered what type of lipstick it was. Actually, maybe he didn't care. Maybe he would just wipe it off with his lips if given the chance. Those girls would for sure be jealous.

But they didn't matter.

He had long stopped being a playboy, the moment he actually laid eyes on you for the first time. It all started weeks ago in the infirmary. He was only there to skip class, claiming to be sick when in reality he just wanted air conditioning and a decent bed. He was about to fall asleep himself—until he noticed you.

You were all curled up on one of the beds, face slightly to the window so that warm sunlight hit your cheeks. You looked peaceful at first, and then your brows furrowed as the discomfort woke you. A heat pack pressed to your stomach, and you were hugging a pillow tightly. He wasn't expecting that.

The cold, powerful student council president fitted into the bed, looking so small, like a girl who just wanted to survive painful cramps in peace. That was the moment he realized there was more to you than just a sharp tongue and standing straight. When you did wake up, he was there, watching you.

"Can I help you?" you asked flatly, your eyes still narrowed as if you just woke up.

"Yeah," he said, already smirking. "Do you mind giving me a little kiss?"

You grimaced. "Are we deadass right now..."

You then stood up and walked away without second thought. And yet, you still lingered in his thoughts.

The very next day, you caught him smoking behind the school building with Jake and a few others. He figured he was done for—but Jake gave you those ridiculous puppy eyes and, surprisingly, you let them off with a warning. Strict, but not cruel.

He remembered how close you stood when you handed out the warning. Your cherry-sweet perfume hit him all at once. You avoided his gaze when he looked straight at you. He saw the way your fingers fidgeted at your side. Even then, he could tell: you weren't as cold as you pretended to be.

Later, his friends told him you were actually younger—by a full year. The first and youngest student council president their school had ever had. You earned that title by merit, not by a favor—organization, leadership, and grace under pressure.

The resentment that came from the assistant president—also one of Ni-ki's exes, the one that lasted all of one month—was inevitable. Actually, almost every relationship he ever had lasted a month. If not, even less time.

But it all stopped once he started seeing you from a distance. And realized something even worse—

You might be unattainable. 

If someone good—really good—were to notice you, they could take your heart before he got the chance to do it. Someone with no bad boy reputation; who had no gossip flying around like second skin. A clean-cut man who liked cold girls with secret warmth who would treat you right. And never make you cry. Someone worthy of you.

But he also knew... you weren't cold. Not really. And he certainly was not going to let anyone else be the first to warm you up.Not without a fight.

('−ㅿ−')

It was already the evening, the softly lit glow of the sunset streaming through the windows as students hurried about with flyers, costumes, posters, decorations—the whole deal. Some students were juiced and rehearsing on the quad lawn. Others were in deeper planning meetings, but you had just ended yours with the council. Your arms were filled with files and event charts—everything neatly color-coded.

That was when it happened.

Yunah. Again.

She plowed into you on purpose right outside the council room, her shoulder hitting your shoulder harder than it needed to have . You twisted your heel a bit, and your knee smashed into the cold, hard, and rough concrete floor, scraping it hard against the tiles.

"Oop-sorry," she said with her make-believe sweet voice as she never even turned her head as she took off down the hallway.

You took a deep breath, moving your hair back and squeezing the files harder to your chest. "It's fine," you murmured to yourself, hoping to sound more convincingly steady than you felt. 

You stood up, brushing the dust from your skirt, and limped forward—unaware of the thin trail of blood running down your knee. You had a job to do. The gym was the final stop on your daily rounds. After this, you could go back to your dorm, shower, and maybe nap before the late council online meeting tonight.

You pushed the gym doors open.

The air carried that rubber flooring odor mixed with sweat, pierced with metallic clinks of weight and the sounds of boys' voices. You had your clipboard in one hand, scanning the space quickly and efficiently. Everything in order. Equipment in appropriate locations. Towels where towels belong. Floors clear. Good.

And then you saw him. Ni-ki.

He was rocking a black tank and pants, hair slightly wet against his forehead. He was seated at a weights machine, forearms pumping with veins as he effortlessly lifted. You could see his biceps flex every time he pulled the weights, and your breath caught in your throat before you reignited and glanced away in a panic.

Stay focused, damn it.

You took a shaky step back, still limping without realizing you did, and flipped your clipboard to the gym report—

"Hey." 

You blinked up in surprise. Ni-ki was suddenly standing before you, holding a towel against his neck, brow furrowed as he looked you over. 

"What happened?" his voice now a lower pitch.

"What?" You looked up in confusion for a moment, before following his gaze. He wasn't looking at your face. He was looking at your knee. 

Where blood was trailing slowly down your skin, now obvious against the pale background of your socks. You flinched slightly as he dropped to one knee, his hand resting gently on your injured one. The touch was light, but you still shuddered.

"Oh... it's nothing," you mumbled. "Someone just... bumped into me."

"Uh huh." His voice was dry, clearly unconvinced. He looked up at you for a second, something unreadable in his eyes. And then—without another word—he stood and called over his shoulder to the other boys, "I'm heading out. Later."

"Where are you—"

"Sit."

He motioned to the bench nearby. You blinked, unsure if you were even supposed to obey—but your legs were tired, and honestly, your knee stung.

So you sat.

You watched him silently, as he cleaned up the wound, and then unwrap the bandage with just as much caution as he used to dab away your blood, pressing it to your knee just right, running his thumb over the bandage to make sure that it was secure. He didn't say anything again until he stood back up, wiped his hands, then jogged over to the vending machine.

He was back in a moment, and dropped a cold chocolate milk into your hands.

"What's this for?"

"Sugar," he said, now sitting beside you, again not too close, but close enough that your knees nearly brushed.

"You looked like you could use it."

"I'm not a child," you countered, though you were already uncapping it.

"I know," he said, looking sideways to you. "You're the president. Cold, nonchalant and untouchable." 

You raised your brow at him, but he wasn't finished.

"But you limp like a normal person," he added, biting back a smile.

You exhaled a short laugh despite yourself and took a sip.

Ni-ki leaned forward, arms resting on his knees as he looked ahead. He leaned back, elbow resting casually behind you on the bench, eyes glancing sideways as you sipped quietly on the chocolate milk he got you.

"Who pushed you?" he asked, voice steady, but there was a weight there, layered underneath. He didn't look at you—just stared at the gym wall across from him like your answer didn't matter.

You didn't say anything.You kept your eyes down on the page you held in your lap, fingers messing with the edge of it, pretending that the milk tasted more interesting than the buzzing tension between the two of you.

He made a small, humorless laugh. "Figured."

You glanced at him, brows drawing slightly together. "Yunah has always been looking at you like that," he said plainly, like it was something that he had noticed a million times before and filed away. "Especially when I'm around. Like this morning."

You blinked. "This morning?"

"Yeah, when I took your glasses and I held your waist."

You immediately looked away, the heat rushing up your neck as you let the memory wash over you—how close he had been, how your heart jumped and you pulled away very quickly and blushed.

"She saw the whole thing," he added, not sounding particularly concerned. "She didn't say anything though."

You paused, then mumbled, "Could've just been someone else who pushed me. Maybe it was a stranger."

Ni-ki shrugged, like he had already thought of it and shot it down. "Maybe. But I don't usually guess wrong. And Yunah... she's petty enough to push someone over less."

You took the last sip of your milk, and held the empty bottle in your lap for just a second, until Ni-ki took it from you, just brushing his fingers against yours as he did so. He stood up, walked to the bin, and tossed it without saying a word.

You stood up too, dusted off your dress and grabbed your clipboard, and walked off without saying goodbye.

You turned on your heel, and his voice came behind you, teasing."Not even a bye, prez?"

You didn't turn back, didn't answer.But he caught the way your hand went up for just a moment to scratch the back of your neck—anxious, a bit flustered—as you walked down the hallway and turned around the corner toward your office.

૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

The library was quiet, the soft hum of the built-in café mingling with the distant sound of pages turning. Instead of locked in your student council office like usual, you chose to be on this rare break in a different spot—curled up by the corner window seat of the library, nursing a cold latte, and flipping through your notes for the upcoming autumn festival.

Honestly, you were juggling more than you should be. Between your responsibilities in student council and being part of a baking club—which let's be honest, insisted on running a full baking competition booth—you hardly had time to breathe.

It was a fun idea: visitors could taste different pastries and vote on the best one, provided the participants knew what they were doing. This wasn't a bake-off for beginner bakers. You already wrote of the safety list three times.

But for now, you just wanted your highlighters. You rifled through your bag, trying to dig out the familiar pack when your fingers stopped, heart sinking ever so slightly.

One of your plush keychains was gone.The little bunny with the dark red ribbon. Missing.

You paused for a moment, scanned your open bag again just in case, and then exhaled softly through your nose, disappointment creeping over your expression.

Your fingers clenched around the only charm that still hung from the zipper, and your teeth grazed your lip as your face dipped from its normally neutral expression.

It was subtle, but still—anyone who truly knew you would see it. You didn't show much in public. Stoic, organized, composed—always. But right now, you were unguarded in a way you rarely allowed.

Meanwhile, on the rear path near the library's back entrance, Ni-ki had been taking a quiet smoke break. The wind ruffled his black hoodie a little, and he was leaning against the railing with half-lidded eyes, letting his mind wander. That was when he noticed something odd in the grass. 

A little, dirty, plush bunny, facedown. 

He stared for a second, then bent down and flicked the ash from his fingers, and carefully lifted the bunny by the ribbon.

He recognized it right away.

Of course he did.

He'd seen it enough times hanging off your bag—cute, a little worn, something he figured you probably had for years. His lips twitched in a tiny smile, just barely there, as he tucked the bunny into his pocket and stubbed out his cigarette.

You had just come out of the library, clutching on to the last charm on your butchered bag, distractedly gazing at your feet.

You were perhaps hoping the bunny had dropped somewhere close and that no one had stepped on it or thrown it somewhere completely different. And then you heard it—the sound you had grown unfamiliar too. The sound of jangly chain jewelry.

You almost choked, eyes instinctively shifting without even turning. You knew who it was before you had turned.

Ni-ki, walking up the path toward you, the chrome hearts keychain on his belt swinging and clinking as it bumped against the metal chain clip on his pants. A few charms were hanging loose, glistening as they swayed in the briefest of sunlight exposure.

His heavy silver earrings twinkled from their usual spot, and the fake lip ring—one of the things that always made your stomach twist for reasons you refused to acknowledge—sat crooked against his lip and stuck out like a sore thumb.

His messy black hair fell over his eyes, bangs as low as always and unkempt around his forehead, as if he had just rolled out of bed without a thought. He never made it look intentional, and yet it was so infuriatingly good on him.

Your hand curled instinctively around your bag's strap, trying to act unaffected as he slowed to a stop in front of you.

He didn't say anything at first. Just held something out.

You blinked.

And there it was—your plush bunny, a little dirty now but still intact, dangling from his fingers by its dark red ribbon.

"You dropped this," he said, voice low, casual.

"Oh... thank you," you said, your fingers brushing against his as you got the stuffed bunny back. You couldn't even look at him—either too awkward or maybe just too closed off—before quickly re-attaching the charm onto the zipper of your backpack and sort of twisting away. You stood there for a second, awkward, not knowing what to do, and then made the choice to do what you always did when things felt strange.

You walked away.

The faint smell of smoke was still with him, curling around you along with the warm wisp of that familiar cologne of his, something sharp and clean, something spicy underneath. It wasn't unpleasant. In fact, it felt... familiar. Even comforting. You didn't recoil from that smell. Not the way most people did.

You grew up with it. Your parents smoked when you were little, and the smell was forever tied to memories of home, of quiet evenings, and cold winter nights. It didn't disgust you. It never had. He noticed. He caught the tiny change in your face, the nuance of bringing the smell into your body with no negative reaction. He didn't say anything. Just stood silently and watched, as he always did, as you walked away.  

          ૮ – ﻌ–ა

It wasn't the last time he "coincidentally" ran into you.

You had your doubts about how accidental it really was.

Especially when it kept happening like this—in places you definitely wouldn't expect him. Like, for instance, the baking club room. Today was extra busy, obviously. You and your clubmates were trying out different cake flavors as you attempted to work your way through which flavor would be used at the festival's opening ceremony. The whole campus was abuzz about the festival, especially with some higher-profile guests likely to show up.

The club wasn't really that big, but was really close-knit. You weren't the leader—there was enough responsibility on your plate being student council president already—but you still pulled your weight, always listening to the instructions and never acting like you were above it. You liked it this way. Less pressure, more time to focus on the fun.

And today was fun.

You were dressed casually, in low-hanging sweatpants and a slightly oversized jersey top, one side slipping off your shoulder, the black strap of your bra visible in a way that was clearly intentional—it matched the design, and you liked the look. Your hair was pulled into two loose pigtails, bangs falling messily across your forehead, and your apron was already a little dusted with flour and sugar.

You stood at one of the mixing stations, wooden spoon in hand, stirring the thick, creamy mixture, wildly. Quickly, checking around to see if anyone was paying close attention - you dipped your finger in and popped it in your mouth—soft vanilla with a warm cinnamon background.

Your lips turned into a small smile, briefly so, it could've gone unnoticed. You quickly released it when you realized. You weren't alone. You added a pinch of cinnamon sugar anyway—quietly hoping—wishing, that your cake will receive more votes. That people would like it. And even if you didn't show it, you love when people like the thing you bake.

You spent time, figuring that flavour out, layering it warmth with some little surprise at the end. It mattered to you, more than anyone cared to know. You turned to help a clubmate ice another test batch, apron tied tight behind you. 

And just outside the door, lingering just out of sight—was Ni-ki, with Jake and a few of their friends, having been roped into delivering something artwork nearby. But he'd stopped when he passed the glass window and caught a glimpse of you.

His gaze lingered.

The way you smiled to yourself—a real one, so rare it almost felt like a secret. The way your top slipped down slightly to give me a glimpse of that black strap. The way you licked the batter off your finger like you didn't even know that was distracting.The look on his face changed ever so slightly.Jake caught it right away.

"Bro," Jake grinned, shoving him with his elbow. "You're down so bad."

Ni-ki didn't say anything. He looked away with a blank expression and ignored the teasing as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked ahead like he hadn't been caught.

After Ni-ki left the baking club hallway, he meandered through the main building with his usual lazy charm, side by side with his group of friends, and a handful of the girls from his class following closely behind him, still asking him questions about the course they were in—but let's be real, half of them were just using the questions to try and keep his attention for another second.

He hardly looked interested. Answering with some short, amused comments. His hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket, chain jewelry chiming softly as he walked, their silver glimmers reflecting from the hallway lights. After the end of class, he stepped outside to breathe, leaning a little and then stopping suddenly.

You were there.   

Right on the edge of the main path with your clubmates. You were holding out your tray of neatly portioned cake samples to passing students. You were focused and professional—smiling only slightly, your usual guarded expression locked back on your face. Still, you had a rhythm. Offer a piece, introduce the flavor, remind them to vote at the club.

Jake stepped out of class and you caught him first, carefully holding the tray out toward him, quietly saying: "Try this one."

He took a bite, eyebrows raising. "Oh—yo, this is actually fire."

That was when Ni-ki walked up, that telltale sound of his pants chain dragging against metal making your ears twitch slightly before your gaze flicked in his direction. You immediately recognized the grey hoodie—sleeves bunched at his elbows, zipper half undone, showing a glimpse of his collarbone and toned chest.

Fuck.

He didn't even try to look good. He just was.

You swallowed hard, lips twitching with annoyance, and turned to leave when—

"You're just going to ignore me after giving Jake cake, huh? Damn," he called out behind you, his tone casual but still hinting at that smirk. "What a president you are."

You froze for a second, rolled your eyes slowly, then turned back and deadpanned. "Do you want to try it or not?"

He raised an eyebrow, stepping in a little closer. He still had his hands in his pockets. "Have you even tried your own cake?"

You gave him a confused look. "No. Except for the batter."

He smirked, that lazy smug smirk of his. "Try it, baby."

You exhaled sharply. "I told you to stop calling me that."

Jake snorted. "You two sound married."

Before you could snap back, Ni-ki moved casually and took the small plastic fork out from your hand and shoved a bite of your own cake in your mouth before you could stop him. "Mmh!" You choked, in shock, at how fast he'd gotten the fork around your lips. 

He smirked wider. Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he leaned in and dragged the same fork through the cream on the remaining cake sample and licked it clean with a hum of approval. "Damn. That's actually so good."

You were still flustered, wiping your lips when his eyes locked onto your mouth. There was whipped cream clinging to the corner. He didn't say anything for a few more seconds, and before you could wipe it away yourself, he discreetly used his thumb—almost teasingly—to brush it off gently.

"Sweet," he muttered quietly before licking off his own thumb with a satisfied expression on his face.

Your brain literally flat-lined for a second.Then you heard it—a voice that could ruin any moment.

"Ugh. Didn't think she was the one who baked it. Looks like someone's using her position for pity points," a girl's voice sneered from behind. She was clearly talking to her friend, but her eyes were on you.

One of Ni-ki's exes—not Yunah. Another one. Pick-me energy, rude smile, and only trying not to conceal the blame dripping off her every feature.

Ni-ki's whole face changed right away, jaw tensing—but he was still not reacting outwardly. Just standing there, silent. Like the calm before the storm. Pretending like neither of you heard it, still clear as day.

You muttered to yourself more than you were talking to him, "Why do you date such weird girls?"

His gaze darted back to you, the tension in his shoulders relaxing just a little as he tilted his head. "Aren't you a weirdo one, too?"

You scoffed, "Well, we're not dating. And we'll never date."

That amusement, sharp look returned to his face—one brow raised, his eyes seeming to dip for one impossibly small moment to your bare shoulder. The little curve of your collarbone showed under your loose jersey top. It wasn't scandalous, if anything it was trending. A lot of girls wore it. But you saw where his eyes traveled and the way they paused made your heart skip.

"Mhm," he said with a hint of a smirk, and his voice low. "Whatever you say, princess."

The word dripped off his tongue, a bit of tease and a bit of dare. Jake, still chewing on his second sample, muttered "This is better than Jungwon's K-dramas." 

You rolled your eyes, spun around, and whipped away in a whirlwind—muttering curses under your breath—but not before hearing Ni-ki chuckle behind you.

Then the votes were tallied and the results posted on the club board.

You saw your name first again. You blinked at it for a second until the club members screamed and brought you in for a mini group hug. You had won. That cake would be served to our guests for tonight's festival.

A smile immediately stretched across your face as your club began preparing to haul the cake to the display area. The cake, embellished with whipped cream, fruit slices and nice touches, looked beautiful. You just gave them a few quick instructions about not tilting the tray or turning the garnishes around. It had to be perfect as it sat there until tonight.

By the time everything was settled and the club booth was set up, the grounds were starting to fill with energy. Students were dragging props out, hanging decorations, testing lights and microphone systems. Music faintly played in the background, greetings were being shouted from all over the campus, and the buzz was everywhere.

It was only 10 a.m. but the ambience was already wild— and it wouldn't be until 7 p.m. tonight before the real thing began.

Still, after baking the entire morning and walking in and out of the sun making sure every tiny thing was in place, you were parched.

You held your printed speech in one hand, eyes scanning it while your throat started to feel dry and rough. You glanced around the campus yard, seeing booths still half-open—no one seemed to be selling drinks yet.

Then, without warning, a warm hand pressed gently onto your shoulder.

You turned around.

Ni-ki stood there clad in a black tank top, silver chain at his collarbone, and hair still damp from the heat. His fingers were cold from touching your shoulder, but in his hand was a small chilled yogurt drink pack, the same kind you used to drink with breakfast while still trying to rush out the door.

He just held it out to you, saying nothing, eyes soft but unreadable.

You blinked at it then at him. "You looked like you were about to pass out," he said as simply as ever. "Take it. It's good for you in the morning. Probiotics and all that."

"...Thanks," you mumbled as you took it. The cold plastic felt so nice in your hand, and you didn't realize how badly you needed it until now.

You poked the straw in and sipped as he stood beside you, like it was totally normal. "You ditched your booth?" you asked, side-eyeing him.

"They'll survive without me," he said. "Besides, they're doing the foam thing right now. I'm not trying to get soap in my eyes this early." 

"You mean you ditched your bros to stalk me?"

"I'm accompanying you," he corrected, pretending to sound offended. "Very different."

You shot him a look, but he only smiled and walked alongside you as you did your rounds. He didn't try to take over, didn't interrupt, just followed along—his hands in his pockets, his eyes darting between the booths and your checklist.

The assigned students was setting up a horror escape room, and someone from the art department was hanging huge photo booth banners and string lights. It actually looked kind of... magical. The warm colors, everything for fall. The music floating by.

You felt the excitement growing in your chest, but that familiar emptiness was also there—a quiet reminder that you didn't really have anyone to enjoy this with. Not really. Not like that. Most people didn't get too close to you. Some people were intimidated. Other people didn't bother.

You learned to manage. Ni-ki didn't seem to mind though. He wasn't talking much, but he matched your pace, sometimes handing his bottle of water to you without asking when he saw you squint from the sun. His presence was annoyingly... soothing. You hated how comfortable you were getting with it.  

At one point, he tilted his head toward the large LED board being wheeled toward the main stage. "You nervous for the speech?"

You shrugged. "It's just a welcome speech. I've done worse."

"You practicing earlier was kinda cute."

You turned your head sharply. "What?"

He lazily shrugged again, pretending he was too invested in some balloon arch being taped together across the walkway. "Just saying. You get all serious and focused when you take charge. It's adorable."

You stared at him.

He blinked at you like what?

You turned away quickly, sipping the rest of your yogurt drink. "You're annoying."

He grinned at the way your ears turned a little red."Can't be that annoying. You didn't brush me off this time."

After making sure every booth was set and all details were arranged, you quickly ran back to your dorm around 5 p.m., like the rest of your group. The buzzing sensation in your chest was starting to get harder to ignore. You took a quick shower to wash the day away and let the steam take away some tension from your tight muscles.

The shower also allowed you to take time with your skincare routine. You brushed out your hair, curling just the ends, incorporating your straight bangs to fall just right across your forehead. You picked out the little dress you had been planning since the day you decided to host this festival. It was cute, not too much. And it was enough that you would be noticed faster than the guys with their decorated crops.

You sprayed perfume gently behind your ears, the floral scent subtle but sweet. A few pieces of jewelry shimmered softly on your neck and wrists. One last look in the mirror... and you nodded to yourself.

By 6:30 p.m., you were back on the festival grounds.

Everything looked different under the setting sky. Lights had turned on—golden, pink, soft blue—casting a warm glow on students from both your campus and others who were already lining up at the entrance. The atmosphere was buzzing with anticipation.

You inhaled deeply and checked in with each of the club presidents over your phone and some brief verbal check—in rounds to make sure everyone was settled. You held the speech card with shaky fingers although you had said that speech hundreds of times. You weren't afraid of the crowd, you simply didn't want to screw this up. Not after all that work.

Then the clock hit 7. The festival officially started.

From the stage, you saw faces—so many faces—and just off to the side you could see Ni-ki in the crowd wearing a loose dark jacket and black tee, slightly damp from the foam, laughing at something Jake said as they finished adjusting the drink booth setup.

You swallowed your nerves and stepped up.

Your voice warmed through the field, steady but bright. You welcomed the guests, thanked everyone for coming, and opened the festival. You even got a cheer. When the MC mentioned the winning cake, your name was said—along with the tray. Students actually clapped when they tasted it. You stood at the side, cheeks warm, heart full, pretending not to look for a certain someone's reaction.

Later, you returned to your stand beaming as students were now piling up for pastries and treats. You handed out cake slices and mini croissants, complemented peoples costumes and hair in passing, softly chuckling when someone recognized the fruit tart from your submission. You carefully packed one into a box, waved goodbye to your club members now arriving to take the next shift, and just let your feet go where they always went these days.

Ni-ki's booth.

You noticed Jake first, then Jungwon, both were busy pouring drinks or were busy chatting it up with the students that slipped in and out of the foam pit. There was laughter and chaos, but it was a fun chaos, the type that endears you to the moment, making you feel and think this was something you would want to remember.

You avoided the foam, walking up to the drink section instead, and delicately placed the box of tarts on the counter. "My treat," you said softly, smiling.

Jake blinked. "Wait—really?"

"Seriously?" Sunghoon ventured as he looked over his shoulder. "Are you actually treating us now?"

"Just shut up and take it," you said lightly again, your eyes darting Ni-ki, who seemed to pause mid shake with the drink blender.  

They all exclaimed, "Thank you!" as they opened the box and saw the tart; their eyes widened as they cut into it with plastic forks and started to compete for the strawberries.

Ni-ki backed away from the counter and wiped his hands with a towel, heading straight for you and sliding into your space like it belonged to him. "Didn't think you'd actually come by," he said, his voice lower now, only meant for you.

"I said I'd roam freely," you said, "I just happened to look in here."

He raised an eyebrow. "While holding a box of fruit tart?"

You rolled your eyes, but a smile peeked through as you lightly leaned against the counter. He looked at you for a second—really looked. From your curled hair to the light shimmer on your cheekbones to the little details in your jewelry.

"You look..."he paused. Then leaned just a little closer. "Dangerously good."

You scoffed. "Are you working, or are you flirting?"

"Multitasking," he said plainly, giving you that infuriating soft smirk. "Wanna try one of our drinks? I'll make it special."

You raised an eyebrow. "Do you say this to every girl?"

"Is it bold of you to assume I have other girls?"

"Uh huh," you scoffed. "Wanna look at the line of girls behind me? I'm practically cutting the queue."

"Yeah, but they're obviously here to see the other guys," he chuckled as he nodded towards his friends.

You narrowed your eyes. You're not sure about that, as you caught sight of a girl by the foam pit sheepishly pointing to Ni-ki, and absolutely squealing to her friend. "I see one already squealing looking at you."

He just laughed, a low laugh, the kind of laugh that made something flutter in your chest—and walked away to grab you a drink. He didn't ask what you wanted. He just knew. A little sweet, a little refreshing—something cold and creamy to balance out the summer night heat. 

He handed it to you with a grin before casually slipping his arm around your shoulder like it was second nature. His fingers played with the end of your curled hair, making your stomach twist in ways you hated admitting. The guys behind the booth were already yelling things like "Whipped!" and "Get a room!" as Ni-ki waved them off, dragging you gently away from the foam party.

"Why are you leaving your friends?" you asked, sipping the drink—and wow, it was good.

He shrugged, leading you into the crowd. "The student council president needed some time to enjoy with a hot guy like me."

You glared at him. "Your ego is insufferable."

"You still haven't denied it," he teased, his thumb briefly brushing your shoulder as he adjusted his arm around you again.

You really tried not to get flustered. But the way his cologne wrapped around you like a second skin, woody and warm, and the way he just effortlessly steered you through the crowd like he belonged beside you, it was too much.

He led you right to the food district. The lights here were golden and warm, and the stalls were bursting with colors and scents. You let him lead you to a takoyaki stall, and you could see that his eyes were sparkling with excitement.

"Alright, this one is non-negotiable," he said. "You have to try this."

"Why?" you asked, letting him handle the ordering.

"Because I'm Japanese," he said with pride, "and I'm making it my mission to teach you all the things that are tasty."

You blinked, your lip curling. "So you're essentially flexing your culture onto me?"

"Damn right," he smirked. "You need to know what actual good food is."

You and him moved from booth to booth trying mochi, karaage, yakisoba—him explaining each dish with that stupid twinkle in his eye, the way he seemed to be sharing part of himself with you, and you paying way too much attention for someone who swore to not fall into his trap.

People noticed—of course they did. Your usual cold expression had softened, and Ni-ki, the boy known for charming every girl that breathed near him, hadn't flirted with anyone else the entire month. Not once. Just talked politely when someone approached, but his attention always snapped right back to you. Boys who usually tried to talk to you looked away, realizing they didn't stand a chance when Ni-ki was practically glued to your side.

You pretended not to care.

But your fingers brushed his when he handed you another skewer, and your heart jumped. Just a little.

Then, he turned to you again with a glint in his eye.

"Wanna try the horror escape room next?"

You froze. "Like... right now?"

His smirk widened. "You're not scared, are you?"

"No," you lied immediately.

You couldn't understand why you agreed to it—perhaps it was how his eyes lit up with mischief, or how smug he looked when he said, "Scared? You?"

But here you stood, at the door of a horror escape room, regretting your whole life. Ni-ki handed the entrance tickets to the usher in one hand, and took your hand with the other—and just like that, he was pulling you inside. His jacket was draped loosely over your shoulders—warm, slightly big, the sleeves covering your hands because the moment you'd shivered earlier, he had taken it off without a word, and draped it around you, and now you were holding onto it like it was a lifeline.

As the door creaked shut behind you, darkness covered the room and creepy music began to play, like a reverberating echo. You shrunk your pace, stepping cautiously. Ni-ki turned around and grasped your hand like it was something he was used to.

"Come on," he said, his voice low and smooth. "I'll lead."

And lead he did. You mostly let him guide you, letting your body follow his—walking just behind him, peeking out from his side, your fingers now clutching his bare arm since the jacket had already claimed you. His skin was warm, and the muscle beneath was hard, flexing slightly each time he moved.  

You almost jumped out of your skin when the first actor hopped out, wailing. You screamed. Very loudly. And you immediately threw yourself to Ni-ki's side, clutching his arm with both hands in a tight grip.

"You okay there?" he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. You nodded quickly, releasing him a little, but not much.

When there was finally a moment to breathe, he pointed with one of his long fingers to a dim hallway. "We should separate for the first part that's reasoned-"

"No." You started to shake your head so quickly you reminded him of a panicked puppy eyes wide, as if defiant to abandon him even the slightest.

He burst into quiet laughter, "You're like a scared little puppy." He chuckled, clearly enjoying his laughter at your expense. "Kinda cute though."

You scowled at him defiantly, but it probably looked like you were not even close to ready to cause any bodily harm to him being practically glued to his arm. He merely ruffled your hair with a smirk, and continued walking while you pressed against him the entire time.

Eventually, when you escaped, blinking into the hallway lights as you exited the room, you shoved him softly with your hand heel. "I am never doing that again. Ever."  

He laughed, full-bodied and proud. "You were clinging to me like I was your boyfriend."

You rolled your eyes. "Shut up," you muttered.

But the extra warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. You barely got a second to breathe before he pulled at your wrist, tugging you along. "C'mon."

"To where?"

"The photobooth," he said, smiling. "Duh."

The tiny booth was only about big enough for the two of you—warm and faded with the weight of the last couple, barely lit by peeking neon hearts that flickered with the camera sensor. As soon as you crossed the threshold, Ni-ki plopped down onto the seat and pulled you into his lap like you barely weighed anything.

You squealed in surprise. "Ni-ki!"

He laughed loudly and freely and it really sounded like he loved the sound of it. His hands barely rested on your waist steadying you. "Relax, it's just a chair, and you're sitting on me. I'm fine with that."

Not able to connect with any words, you huffed but stayed put. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, and the slight breeze of his breath on your neck from how close he was. And his hand had moved a little to play with the hem of the jacket he had draped over you.

The camera blinked.  

First photo: He reached up and squished your cheeks together, pulling the most dramatic heart-eyes face while your expression was frozen mid-annoyed-pout, lips squished and eyes wide in disbelief.

Second photo: He nudged you. "Flex your arms. C'mon."

"I don't have muscles," you muttered, but did a small awkward pose anyway.

Ni-ki laughed and put his arm behind you, flexing. The camera caught the ridiculous contrast between his sharp, defined muscle and your soft arm and the look of pure betrayal on your face.

"Wow," you muttered. "Thanks for embarrassing me in high def."

Third photo: you gave up and finally decided to just throw a peace sign with your lips twisted up into the faintest of smiles. Ni-ki did some random sign that didn't even look like anything—something between a thumbs up and finger guns—all while grinning like an idiot.

Fourth photo: You weren't prepared. You weren't even looking at the camera when you felt it—soft and sudden, a warm press of lips to your cheek. You turned your head sharply just as the flash went off, catching the exact moment that your eyes bulged open and mouth dropped in shock, a single hand reaching gingerly to your cheek in disbelief.

Ni-ki leaned back, victorious, completely unconcerned.

"You—! That's cheating!" you groaned, lightly slapping his chest.

He tilted his head, "You didn't say no."

After the photobooth, you were still in recovery mode from being surprised by that last photo—the press of his lips against your cheek, your heart still thumping. And as if all of that wasn't enough, Ni-ki went even a step further.

He pulled out his phone, and instantly inserted the strip of photos into the plastic case on the back, smoothing it down in pride. "There," he said proudly, holding it out towards you. "Now you do it."

You blinked. "No way."

"How come?" he smiled as he was reaching for your phone. "C'mon. Let's be matching."

"Ni-ki, it won't even—" you said, but he was already messing with your phone case. And even though it was clear that the case was not made for photos, he somehow manhandled the photo in there, bent in half and slightly crushed, until it was behind your phone just like his.

You looked at it trying to look annoyed. "You just ruined my aesthetic."

"I am your aesthetic," he smirked.

That was that, and together you walked back to the foam party. 

The scene had changed drastically—the field was alive with glowing lights, music thumping through the air, and foam cascading from the machines like snowy clouds. There were students everywhere now, splashing around, slipping and sliding like kids at a water park.

As soon as you entered the suds, Ni-ki didn't waste any time—he scooped a handful of bubbles and threw it directly at you.

You shrieked, stumbling back. "Ni-ki!"

Of course, your hands retaliated, flinging a palm of foam into his chest. It splattered across his shirt and him only laughed, shaking his head like a wet puppy, sending suds flying.

He leaned in close and used a finger to dab just a bit of foam to your nose. "Boop."

You wiped it off with a glare and then used your hand to pointlessly run it through his hair, making it appear he just survived a soap hurricane. His friends were somewhere to the side losing it over the two of you—hollering half-teasing comments like

"Get a room!" and "We totally lost him to the council president!" as you both rolled around on the ground, chucked, and begged bubbles to go his way. 

You were laughing so hard, you didn't even notice he was standing over you, still grinning, with foam sticking to his shirt. His chest was puffing a little bit as if he couldn't manage keeping up with his own grin, and then...

He leaned down.

Before you could react, Ni-ki took your face in his warm, slightly damp hands from all the foam. He leaned forward and kissed you before you even got the chance to blink.It wasn't rushed. It wasn't sloppy. But it was slow and deliberate, almost instinctual—like he couldn't help himself anymore.

Then, the ghost of his tongue ran across your bottom lip asking for entry, waiting. You froze. And then you let him in. The world melted away. The music, the foam, the teasing voices, all of it blurred until it was nothing and your lips moved against his. His hands stayed put, just holding you, almost afraid to let you go like you would disappear when he did.

He tasted like fruit punch and something sweet that you didn't know. Maybe it was just him.

Oh god, Ni-ki thought, heart racing as he kissed you deeper, the shy ones are always the boldest. He didn't even see the people watching or the foam that was still being thrown in the background. All that mattered was just you. 

But then you pulled away.

Not because you wanted to—but because reality struck you like a cold gust of wind. Your eyes were looking around. Public. You were in public. Your heart dropped. Your reputation.

What if you were just another girl? What if you were just a girl that he was messing around with like they said—like all the rumors suggested? You pulled back quickly, a shaky breath leaving your body, Ni-ki looked at you blinking, his expression changing—then reaching out and brushed your cheek for the foam residue.

You swallowed. Because maybe you weren't sure if you were just another girl. Or maybe you were starting to hope that you weren't.    

"Are you okay?" Ni-ki asked, voice softer than usual and assessingly scanning your face for any sign of sickness.

You slowly nodded yes, even though your heart was still pounding, and your lips still tingled from the kiss. The foam clung to your body like snowflakes, soaking into your clothes, coating your arms and bare legs.

You stood awkwardly, trying to brush it off when Jake tossed you a towel from the sidelines with a cheeky grin. "Here. You might wanna clean up before someone thinks you got into a war with a bubble machine."

You gave him a half-laugh before Ni-ki stepped closer, towel in hand, brushing the soap gently off your arms and shoulders. Then he crouched down, hands ghosting over your legs. "Sit," he said, glancing up at you with a small smile. "You'll slip."

You paused considerably, but finally sat on the wooden ledge of the booth, he looked so earnest, and you didn't want to disappoint. His fingers were soft as they wiped away the foam from your shins, just the tender kind of attention you would never have expected to come from a self-proclaimed playboy. His hoodie still draped your shoulders, still warm and slightly damp from you earlier, and your mind was racing.

And then he left—telling you he'd be right back. Just disappeared into the crowd.

You stared at the foam affect that covered the ground and your mind was racing. That kiss. Those eyes. His hands on your cheeks. His arms wrapped around you like you were some kind of trophy.

Sunghoon sat down beside you a moment later with Jake behind him and, then, Jungwon and Jay following. They were all smiling—like they'd just witnessed a rom-com scene play out in real time.

"What's with the serious face?" Sunghoon nudged your arm.

You hesitated. "...What if I'm just another girl to him?"

You could see their instant reactions. Jake snorted, "Oh please. You're the only girl on his mind right now."

"Yeah." Jungwon nodded. "You think he goes around making out with every girl in front of all of us?"

"He's been different. He barely smokes anymore, he keeps leaving parties early because you're not there... he doesn't even flirt around like he used to. It's weird." Jay leaned in, shaking his head with a grin.

"Weirdly wholesome," Jake chimed in.  

Before you could respond, Ni-ki reappeared—holding two cones of ice cream, one already melting a little. Tucked into one of them was a folded piece of paper and a small flower, slightly crumpled but clearly picked with intention.

He walked straight over to you, holding it out with a sheepish grin. "It's not fancy or anything. But..."

You took the paper cone and opened the note.

Will you be my girlfriend?

Straight to the point. Direct. Just like him.

Your breath caught in your throat. "Ni-ki..."

Jake leaned over next to you, speaking in a whisper like it was some deep secret, "When he goes after something he wants, he makes a move before anyone else does."

You smiled then—your heart flipped, your pulse racing—and looked up at Ni-ki. "Yes," you breathed.

The minute the word left your mouth, his hands were right back on your cheeks, thumbs moving across your skin like he didn't even think about it and he kissed you again. It was a softer kiss this time, but no less full of meaning. God, this was the first time you had ever been with someone like this—someone so openly affectionate, someone who made you feel like you were the only girl in the world. Like you weren't being seen, but rather... chosen.

He pulled back, smirking at you with eyes full of mischief. "You're in for a long ride, princess."

Then, without warning, his lips pressed against the corner of your jaw, trailing lower to the curve of your neck. Your breath hitched—completely caught off guard by how intimate he was being, especially with everyone watching.

But for some reason you did not give a fuck.

[moonstruckme]

hi mae !

not sure if i've requested this before or not, so bear with me haha. my memory is a bit fuzzy.

i struggle deeply with my mental health and have been hospitalized twice over it. things have been thankfully looking up since my second hospitalization but i still have days/moments where the world feels like it's crumbling.

just looking to see if you'd be comfortable writing poly!marauders comforting a reader who might've been recently hospitalized or has trouble adjusting to life after deciding to work on taking care of herself. (for example, getting into regular daily routine like eating/basic hygiene is so weird after ignoring it for so long !)

maybe some crying and just fluff. your poly!marauders is really so special to me and i hold it close to my heart.

no worries if you're not comfortable writing this :)

xoxo

Thank you for your request angel <3

cw: the circumstances are vague but its implied that reader has trouble taking care of herself, some insecurity around self-sufficiency and around poor hygiene

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

It’s rare for you and James to be the last out of bed. In fairness, you think he’s only here to entice you out. James has already gone and come back, with strawberries which Remus is using to make you all muffins. He’s mincing and measuring and mixing laboriously in your kitchen. Sirius loves you all more than he pretends, because he dragged himself out of bed at the thought that Remus might be lonely, and now you can hear the low sounds of their lovesick murmuring from down the hall. James took off his clothes to get back under the covers with you and seems to be sneakily trying to tickle you awake with his mouth underneath your jaw. You refuse to open your eyes. 

“You’re so awake,” says James. 

“I’m not.” 

“You’re so, so awake.” He buzzes his lips against your skin. You have to bite down on your lower lip. “And you’re laughing.” 

“I am not.” 

“You want to.” James kisses the spot before ending your torment, pressing a kiss to your lips as well. “What’re you thinking about, lovely?” 

You hum, contemplative. “I’m thinking that we need to get Remus a proper mixer.” 

“We really do.” He rests his face in your neck again. “I do like watching him stir, though. It makes his forearms look really…well, you know.” 

“That’s not a good enough reason to force labor on him,” you say, though you do know and are selfishly inclined to agree. 

“No, you’re right,” James sighs. It fans warmly over your skin. “Hey, can I ask you something without it being, like, a thing?” 

Your eyes open now, though you can’t really see him where he’s tucked beneath your chin. “Yeah,” you say cautiously. 

“It’s not a big deal. I just don’t want you to be embarrassed. It’s not embarrassing, but I don’t want you to think that I think it is, if that makes sense.” 

“Okay…” 

“I think you’re lovely, you know that, right? So, it doesn’t mean anything, and it’s not a criticism.” James is rambling now, nervously, and you’re growing nervous along with him. “I just don’t want to keep things from you, because, well, sometimes you have to ask people you love strange things, you know? But that doesn’t make them mean anything more than they really do.” 

“James,” you cut him off. You feel him stop breathing, a stillness beside your neck. “What is it?” 

“Okay, sorry.” He presses a soft kiss to your skin. “I’m just wondering, have you showered lately?” 

It takes you a second. Half of one, really, and then you’re covering your face with your hands, turning away from your boyfriend in mortification. 

“Hey, hey.” James wraps a hand around your hip, keeping you close. “Angel, it’s fine. It’s not a big deal.” 

“Oh my god,” you moan into your hands. Your face feels roaring hot. “I just—I forgot. Like, I forgot I even have to.” 

“I know, lovely. It’s a lot to keep track of, yeah? It is, and that’s why I thought I’d mention it to you. Not because it’s a problem, just because I thought you might not have remembered.” 

It’s not a lot to keep track of, though. It shouldn’t be. Your boyfriends cope with it all just fine, eating and washing themselves and exercising and managing to keep tabs on you on top of all of it. You don’t understand why it seems so much harder for you than for everyone else. 

James can tell you’re about to cry. He makes a soft, doting noise, hugging you as best he can and pressing his cheek to where your hand covers your face.

“It’s okay,” he promises you. “It really is.”

“I’m so sorry,” you mumble. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize. What do you have to be sorry for?” 

“I must smell.” 

“You don’t—” James starts to laugh, choking it off quickly. “You don’t smell. I didn’t ask you because you smell, I just asked because I realized I didn’t think I remembered you showering the last few days. You’re fine, okay, look.” 

Though you can’t see him, you’re aware of movement, and suddenly very aware that James’ face is in your armpit. It’s brief, no more than the time it takes your body to seize up in horror, and then he’s back above you. Your hands have fallen away from your face in shock. 

“Yeah,” he says definitively, “you’re good.” 

“James!” Your tone wavers between dismay and a delighted sort of fondness, which is a decent measure of the rest of you. 

“You’re fine, my love,” he says, and there’s nothing wavering about James’ earnestness. He rubs up and down your side lovingly. “It doesn’t matter. Please don’t be upset, okay?”

You’re still blinking up at him, trying to get your emotions in order, when Sirius comes trudging down the hall. He has a throw from the sitting room around his shoulders and a telling bit of strawberry muffin batter smeared on the side of his nose. 

“James, if you want orange juice, you’re going to have to squeeze it yourself, because—” He falters as he enters, taking in your wet eyes and James’ conciliating hand on your middle. “What’s wrong? What’ve you done to her?” 

The last part is said in jest—it’s usually a safe assumption that James is the last person who would upset any of you—but your boyfriend’s expression turns so terribly guilty that Sirius looks like he regrets the joke. He squeezes James’ arm as he clambers onto the bed with you two, a furrow between his brows. 

“What?” he asks again. 

You sigh and decide to make light of it. “I stink.” 

Sirius’ frown worsens at this. Then, quick as anything, he casually bends and sticks his nose in your armpit, sniffing. You feel your eyes pop. 

“No, you don’t,” he says. 

“What is with you two?”

“Why would you think that you stink?” Sirius asks. His forefinger brushes underneath your lashes, collecting the lingering moisture like he just can’t abide it. “Not that I would mind if you did, of course, but it’s an odd thing to fixate on with no evidence.” 

“I told her she doesn’t,” James says, slumping down onto your chest. He seems happy to share in the labor explaining this to you. “It’s only been a little while since she showered, but now she’s worried she’s disgusting.” 

“Why would you wonder if I’d showered if I didn’t smell?” you ask. 

“Oh.” Sirius nods, as though this now all makes sense. “Because he’s obsessed with you, obviously. We all are. You think I don’t know how many times this week James has been to the gym?” 

James’ eyebrows lift. “Now, why are you keeping track of that?” 

But you only frown, because, actually, you knew that too. But that’s not difficult to keep track of. It’s always plain when you get up in the morning and there’s a half-finished protein shake on the counter, James’ bag missing from its spot by the door. 

“Or are you trying to tell me you don’t know how far Remus is through his puzzle?” 

You shake your head. “It’s on the coffee table, I can see it.” 

“Right,” says Sirius, “but we notice those things because we love them. So James didn’t have to smell you to know you hadn’t showered. He just noticed.”

Your gaze slinks back to James, shame a worm eating away at your middle. “I’m sorry that you notice and I don’t.” 

“Sweetheart, you only forgot,” James says gently. “I don’t mind. You’re doing your best, yeah?” 

You worry your lip. It doesn’t seem like it can be your best, if everyone else manages it as their baseline. Sirius tsks and takes your hand, tugging you up and James with you. 

“You are.” He mushes a kiss to your temple as he drags you out of bed. “I can tell. We all slip up sometimes, baby, it’s fine. There’s no sense in agonizing over it. Come have breakfast.” 

The smell wafting from the kitchen is warm and sweet. Remus’ muffins are still in the oven, and he allows James to kiss him good morning only thrice before begging off and letting the James stay with his arms around his middle. 

“Are they tormenting you?” Remus murmurs, plainly amused by James’ uncharacteristic pouting.

“Yes.” James hugs Remus tighter, nuzzling his throat with entirely characteristic clinginess. “Save me from them, please.” 

“He tormented her first,” says Sirius. 

“I didn’t mean to,” James laments. 

Remus clicks his tongue, still holding James but looking to you. You shrug. “He delivered a hard truth,” you say, “but they both stuck their faces in my armpits, which was worse than anything.” 

“Oh.” Remus appears appropriately thrown by this information. “Yeah, that’s…why?” 

“Shut up, you liked it.” Sirius squeezes you meanly. “Don’t listen to her, Moony. I’d sniff your armpit, too.”  

“I’m alright,” Remus says cautiously. “I don’t really see why you would have to, either?” 

“Circumstances arise,” James mumbles into his front. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

[babydoll372]

hihi!!!!!! i genuinely love ur fics sm i look forward to them everyday :D

okayyyy here's what i imagine, taking sub milf wanda to a sex shop for the first time and she get reallyyyy shy on what to play with and wear. she ends up picking a pretty butt plug and a leash to try out and they perform bdsm or just heavy rough sex or smth like that!! i also imagine sub milf wanda having a huge praise kink and perhaps lactation kink?? 👀👀

Trying It Out

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: 2367

Warnings: smut, butt plugs, leashes, whips, praise kink, Mommy (W), relatively service top!R, some insecurities, age gap relationship,

“See anything you like?” Wanda jumped at the sound of your voice, her cheeks that were already pink from her makeup only worsening with your hands on her waist. You rested your head on her shoulder as you admired the rack she kept wandering back to.

“You think you’re ready for a plug, Wands?” She quickly glanced around to ensure no one heard you before shrugging.

“Maybe. I don’t really know…what do you think?” She turned in your hold, resting her hands on your chest with a small, anxious frown. As excited as she was, this was the last place she wanted to be. She wanted to do this online so no worker would have to see her selections and have their secluded judgments, but you insisted she break her shell and try it. And now here she was.

“I think you should pick out whatever it is that you want, and if you want me to use a plug on that cute little ass then I will have zero complaints.” You grinned teasingly, and she rolled her eyes at your attitude. Yet a smile still somehow conjured onto her face.

“I, uh…I think I want the plug. The one with the little heart.” She pointed her finger upward to a casing holding her desired item. You were quick to grab it and inspect it, not even sparing a glance at the price before agreeing she’d look beautiful with it as you kissed her cheek. 

The two of you walked around the rest of the store together, you occasionally stopping at different items and asking if she wanted to take a look at them, but she’d either decline with multiple apologies following or shrug in fear of saying yes to anything. In the back of the shop near a door where you guessed more supplies were locked away, there were an array of whips and ropes that caused your eyes to light up. Wanda looked at them with an ounce of fear, but once she saw your reaction she wanted to try and improve her image.

“We should try that one.” She again pointed to the item, yet this time it was a hanging leather whip freshly cut to match her shape. Your eyes instantly shifted to hers as she looked at you with hopefulness and determination.

“You sure you can handle that?” She nodded, standing on her tippy toes to reach for the item and lower it into her hands. She felt the colder material and bit her lip, handing it to you.

“Where would you use it on me?” Her voice was quiet, soft, only just above a sweet whisper. You took a quick look around your surroundings and when spotting no one, you turned her around, letting her press into the wall as your hand glided across her ass.

“Well, first I’d most definitely use it here,” You squeezed the fat beneath her jeans, feeling her body move into yours. “Then I’d probably want to use it right along this sweet cunt,” You chuckled quietly at her whimper as your fingers grazed over her clit, your thigh nudging hers apart. “And then, to spoil myself, I might want to use it on these soft, swollen breasts.” You moaned quietly to yourself as you cupped the tissue, making her cover her mouth with her hand due to the sensitivity the area held. You then left a lingering kiss on her neck before pulling away and turning her around.

“Do you still want to get it?” 

“I do…a-and I think I want the- the leash too, if that’s okay.” Your smile grew larger than before and she basked in it, overjoyed at the idea of pleasing you. But it wasn’t only for you, it was also for her. She could feel herself growing wetter at the idea of being treated as a pet, being whipped under your soft protection, and being stuffed in her tightest hole as you’d degrade her for even fostering the idea. All were such things she couldn’t even have the privilege of imagining when she had been married to her children’s father, yet now you were opening this environment so welcoming to her growing imagination. 

“We’ll get whatever it is you want, sweetheart.”

 When the two of you were checking out she could feel a shamefulness returning as she lowered her head so the worker wouldn’t see the darkness covering her face, and not to mention the wrinkles. She always felt insecure about her appearance and her age, which was one of the reasons why she wasn’t the most eager to go to this shop. She worried the younger dynamic would judge a woman her age exploring different ideas for the first time, and some did, and some couldn’t have cared any less. But you always were the one who made her confidence rise as you kissed over every line and stretch her body contracted over the years, promising you loved each and every one of them. You promised she wasn’t unnatural or sinful, and with you, she could finally believe it. 

So as you began leaving, she politely asked you to wait in the car for her while she entered the shop a few stores down, and you hesitantly agreed with a longing kiss. The mall was crowded and she was struggling to feel comfortable in the mobs of young teens, but she wanted to do this for you. And for herself, to be able to admire her beauty in the lingerie she searched through. So when she settled on a dark red pair instead of the one-piece she normally settled for with her previous husband to hide her postpartum pudgy stomach, she knew she had reached such an important level of trust that she wasn’t afraid for the rest that was to come, and instead, she walked to the car with her teeth visible past her upward lips. 

—

“Okay, I’m coming out now so make sure your eyes are closed!” The older woman yelled through the bathroom door, waiting for a response before she twisted the knob and found herself on the other side. She let out a nervous sigh as she settled herself in front of you, reaching outward with shaking hands to remove yours from your face. Your vision suddenly shifted from darkness to the ethereal redhead standing in front of you. Her fingers found themselves picking one another in front of her stomach as a way to not only hide herself but also distract her mind from your silence. 

“Can you say something, please?” You blinked quickly, shutting your mouth after it had been left ajar. You swallowed, your hands delicately placing themselves on her waist.

“Sorry, sorry, you just- fuck, baby, you look so good.” You suddenly arose from the edge of the bed, lowering your head to her neck where your lips attached to. She whimpered quietly as you sucked a large hickey into her, and she couldn’t fight you off even though she knew her sons would be returning from their fathers in only two days. The reason was because she didn’t want to. 

“Your skin is so soft too.” You muttered against her, your touch roaming around her body desperately. Your hips jutted against the air, searching for an ounce of friction yet still finding pleasure from none. 

“I put on some lotion so I’d be ready for you.” She mustered out, and you pulled back for a moment to rest your forehead on her collarbone. 

“My God, Wanda, you’re so perfect.” Your lips began to trace along her chest as her bra unclasped. “You know that? I feel like I don’t get to tell you enough how much I adore you.” You guided her to sit on the edge of the bed where you were only minutes prior, and she let out a loud, gutterful moan at the feeling of your tongue rounding her nipples. You looked up at her, meeting her eyes as she held a heavy breath.

“My pretty girl, you look so cute like this.” One of your hands roamed along her thigh, reaching up and down slowly. Your fingers grazed gently along her clothed clit, rubbing small, tight circles.

“You make me feel so young, Y/N - so beautiful…” She quietly comments, running her fingers through your hair as she felt your humming vibrate along her hardened nipple. Suddenly, droplets began to leak into your mouth, your tongue eagerly lapping up the source as it only caused her to elicit a loud whine. Your digits slipped past her panties, slowly easing into her entrance with grace. She glanced down, watching her hole greedily accept you before her head was thrown back. She tried biting her lip to create a form of silence, but it failed.

“Don’t you dare hide those pretty moans on me, Wanda, let me hear you.” As her body fell back against the mattress, yours followed. Your legs wrapped on either side of her thighs, your mouth finding solace on her neglected nipple as her body spasmed with pure electricity. 

“Fuck! Please, please, please- I’ve been such a good girl, tell me I’ve been good!” You nodded against her, pulling back for a split moment with her milk drooling down your chin.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me! I’m so proud of you.” Tears brimmed her eyes as her hips mindlessly rocked into your thrusts, your digits increasing to a third and causing her to nearly scream in pleasure at the stretch. 

“I’m a good Mommy, I’m a good Mommy, I’ve been a really good Mommy-“ She cut herself off with a silent moan, her eyes squeezing shut as you pulled back from her chest once receiving no more liquid and instead allowed her to ride out her high. 

“That’s it, let me take care of you. Such a pretty girl.” Your fingers slowly eased out of her sopping cunt once ready, and she whined quietly at the feeling of emptiness approaching her again. Suddenly, she jolted as a sharp slap came to her swollen breasts. It was softer than you intended to treat any other area, yet she still reacted as though you had somehow betrayed her. 

“C’mon, Mommy, I thought you were a good girl…well, good girls would take what they’re given, right?” She slowly came to a nod as she sniffled in silence, feeling the cold whip trail down her stomach slowly as you inched her thighs apart. You stood between her legs now as you delivered another slap to her soft skin, this time it was to her sensitive cunt. Then came another. You replaced the toy with a soothing touch, yet it only made her jerk in overstimulation. 

“Turn around for me, baby, let me see that sweet little ass.” She quickly followed the instructions, gripping the fabric beneath her and glancing behind her eagerly to try and spot what it was you were going to do. She had a feeling, but she still wasn’t entirely ready for when it’d come. Then she felt drops of a cold lubricant ringing her tight hole as you smeared it around gently with a fingertip. 

“Don’t be scared, I’ll go easy on you, okay?” She nodded in faith, yet she had to bite down on the sheets shortly after as the toy began protruding her ass. She whimpered and whined under your touch until she felt kisses along her back.

“There we go, it’s all the way in. You did it, Wanda.” She formed a small smile of gratitude and relief, yet that was replaced by her eyes widening in shock as you forced her head back and traced the skin of her neck with the leash you had to the side. She felt it clasp and a low tug was given, making a moan deliver from her mouth.

“You sound so fucking beautiful, Mommy. Just relax for me, I’ve got you.” She was too pleasure-ridden to have a full concept of what was going on around her, and all she knew was that she didn’t want it to end. You dropped the leash for only a moment as your hands spread her lower cheeks apart.

“Clench for me, Mommy.” You spoke with a groan, watching as her tight hole listened to your commands. “Fuck, do it again- please, baby.” And once again, another deep, desperate moan came from your end as she complied. You could feel your ignored wetness growing, your pulsing clit clenching around nothing as it was soaked in your mess. You then turned the woman over, holding tightly onto her leash as your legs began to straddle her face. 

“You see how wet you’ve made me? That's it, clean up your mess, you dirty slut.” Wanda wasted no time, the moment your cunt was in eye-view she began lapping generously, and when it wasn’t enough, your tugging would force her face closer to you. Her nose nuzzling against your clit as your hole was what received the most attention. Her chin dripped in your juices, and yet it was as though she was sucking you completely dry of anything you released. Her fingers fell to her own entrance as two fingers slid in with ease, and she pumped them in and out quickly as her jaw twitched and ached at what she was offering. But the pain wasn’t able to register in her mind, all she could think about was your deafening voice as your hips grinded with a quickening speed.

“Shit! Oh, Mommy, I’m so close…” A tear ringed your eyeball while your mouth dropped open. You tugged her impossibly closer as your free hand held the back of her head and suddenly, as your legs shook and your body spasmed, a creamy liquid began to entertain her tongue, making her moan against you. 

When you eventually removed yourself from her soft, angelic face, you kneeled in front of her, hovering over her hips as her digits escaped her hole, calling for yours instead. You stroked her cheek with your thumb, your lips coming to kiss hers softly. 

“My precious girl…” Your fingers trailed down to her entrance as you grinned. “You’re just so needy.”

[bewitched-hours]

haii can I request Mafioso x bunny hybrid reader who basically can be a healer and a sentinels at the same time? I like to think that gubby thinks that the reader is like them (because they're both a bunny) also the reader pronouns is they/them btw 🐰🐇

OOOO I love that! And the love for Gubby is honestly adorable, we all love Gubby ◕��◕

But yeah, reader's pronouns are they/them kek-

You were a surprise to the other survivors.

You looked like a perfect mix between a bunny and a Robloxian.

This on its own wouldn't usually be that much of an issue but what was shocking was your ability to be both a healer and a sentinel.

You'd heal them right after stunning a killer and while they were grateful, you were a mystery to behold.

Especially with your build not looking so tough to begin with.

You were taller, sure. But you looked more like a stretched bunny. Able to eat for days but with arms that didn't show much muscle to them in comparison.

Most killers found you annoying. You were like Elliot but with the ability to stop them dead in their tracks and it made chases with you more infuriating.

At least you couldn't heal yourself to balance that out a bit.

But Mafioso? You reminded him of Gubby in a way. The white fur and your more instinctive behaviours certainly didn't help your case against him and he caught himself sometimes leaving you as LMS intentionally just to watch your reactions to when you were cornered without hope.

But when you weren't left on your own? You had quite the sassy mouth against the killers. And over time you even gathered courage to speak up on your own as well.

Were the other survivors encouraging you? Or maybe the endless dances of life and death you were stuck in were starting to seem more dull over time?

Whatever it was about you, the killer was strangely interested in learning more about you.

All that lead to this round. He had brought Gubby along as bait for you and when you were unknowingly the LMS, Gubby did as told and lead you to a couple generators to build trust.

Gubby seemed especially interested in you, believing you two were almost one and the same species. Just with you being more Robloxian.

But upon getting to the last generator, Mafioso had been waiting there for you. You could only watch in horror and realization as Gubby carelessly hopped into his arms. You fell for the bait hook-line-sinker.

You didn't immediately stun him. You needed him to get away from the generator. And he knew this very well.

Which is probably why he refused to move.

"Caught ya, little bunny." His voice was eerily calm, making your ears twitch. You were trying to prepare for anything he might throw at you but hearing Gubby squeak at you kept dragging your attention back towards them both.

For now, it seemed you were both just waiting out the timer... It seemed...

Although you tried to convince him to leave the generator, it was clear he saw right through your words. And he kept trying to talk to you as though you were interesting which just confused you.

The round was slowly coming to an end though... And you had more questions than ever at this point before suddenly popping back up at the cabin with a small note stuffed into your hand.

'Meet us in the middle' ... How ominous.

The other survivors were just as confused as you, asking questions and leaving little room for you to answer but what you didn't tell them was that you fully intended to go.

'The middle' was likely referencing the middle of the map. And you needed answers.

But you waited for the next round, checking that you and Mafioso wouldn't be picked before heading out.

You weren't even sure where the middle was. No one knew where or how far the killer cabin was so it was hard to tell how big the map really was. You made sure to be careful though. You didn't need to overestimate it and land right in front of the killer cabin on accident nor underestimate and end up being nowhere near the middle.

But you were luckily not the only one it seemed.

Mafioso appeared out of the darkness ahead, smirking at your appearance with Gubby perched on his shoulder. You couldn't help but chuckle a bit when you noticed he dressed Gubby up to look like him. You didn't take Mafioso for a guy who enjoys dressing up animals.

He seemed more lighthearted outside of rounds, chuckling with you and promptly setting Gubby onto your head. It was cute how much the little thing squealed with curiosity and joy. You were just trying to make sure the little guy wouldn't fall down.

And unbeknownst to you, it brought a smile to Mafioso's face. A genuine one.

This became sort of a habit you kept secret. You'd claim you were just going out to take a stroll and would be safe from the killers but really, you were meeting one of them to see Gubby and have conversations about your lives before this realm. It was surprisingly casual and friendly...

"If we ever get out, how about a coffee?" He suggested, earning your typical "Is that a date?" before the two of you just agreed you'd find each other again.

Like an unspoken promise between lovers... You would be on the lookout...

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[bunnwich]

Devourer👑(Scar!Leona x Yuu) 02

Leona got everything he wanted, except for one thing. After 7 long years of being king, Yuu comes back into his life. As Yuu finds themselves in his nightmare, will they be able to "find " Leona and wake him? Or will they both be devoured?

Characters: Leona Kingscholar x Yuu!Reader (GN. No physical description for Yuu. They/Them pronouns. Yuu majored in alchemy and graduated as a Doctor of Botany)

Words: 7k, 3rd person Notes: A darker AU based on Leona’s Chapter 7 Dream. Parts: Part 1, Part 2

CW: None

Tagging: I will be tagging in comments! Let me know if you wanna be added!

-- The scent of leather and cologne filled the stretch of silence between them. 

Yuu almost keeled over when the King himself volunteered to escort them to the Tree of Life. Apparently, only the royals were allowed there, and now they supposed he was the only one left. Once a common cultural touchstone and protected nature reserve, what remained had been boarded up from the common people years ago. 

Yuu smoothed down the hem of their travel coat, pretending to review all the annotated field notes in their lap. Harvest yields in the semi-arid zones, and things like that: scrawled in their scratchy, uneven handwriting. All of it seemed infinitely less important under Leona's gaze from beside them. 

He wasn’t even trying to hide it. 

They shifted, the hum of the royal limo rolling beneath them. "So…I- um... I’ve marked three regions near the border where the native flora’s struggling. If we don’t intervene soon, it could trigger soil collapse by the peak of the drought season." Their words came out fast, too rehearsed. “M-my goal today is to gain insight from the soil in the reserve and assess why that flora seems to be still thriving there despite well-.”

Leona didn’t answer right away. He never did. He liked to listen. Wait. Let the words stagnate in the air until Yuu started babbling once again.

They glanced up from their work journal, they shouldn’t have. His sharp green eyes were on them, unreadable, heavy, and framed in their usual dark shadows. He always noticed more than they wanted him to.

They used one hand to rub the back of their neck under the collar of their coat. "We could…start collecting samples at the southern ridge, near the landmark itself, if you like." Yuu added quickly, tapping the corner of the notebook. "There’s a species of Helichrysum there I haven’t catalogued. It might help replenish the-"

"Mm." Just a sound, from taut lips. A small one at that. But it landed like a heavy boulder.

They straightened, tucking a piece of hair behind their ear under his gaze. His dark mane was brushed back as usual, besides a few strands that the wind had tugged loose. 

He was the king, they reminded themself. And you’re here to be his environmental adviser. A doctor of botany. Not for...anything else.

But then he leaned over, the bright wooden beads dripping from his beige, low-cut tunic, fanning across his chest. It was much more casual attire than his usual sharp, black dashiki. He said they should ‘blend in’ after all. “Doctor.” Ever so slightly, he rested his chin on his hand, "You’ve got a bit of dirt in your hair…" 

Yuu let out a strangled breath and felt the sun beating harder on their face through the car window. They slid as close as they could towards the car door, creating some much-needed space to check their reflection. “Oh.”

Damn him, he was right. They looked down sharply, eyes fixed on a scribbled note in the corner of the page. He had said it like a joke, not unkind.

Though after their last interaction, they had no idea how to receive him or his attempts at ‘teasing them’ going forward. Fear, fear was easy, a thorny thing in their guts that made it hard to breathe. But, now…taking harbor in their insides lurked something else. Something more dangerous.

“Yes, I was…harvesting some cuttings from-” They muttered, attempting to reclaim some dignity, reaching up to ruffle their hair, a pang of annoyance that he was probably not taking what they were saying seriously.

A soft chuckle rumbled from his side of the backseat, low and infuriatingly unbothered. Was the King really in such a nonchalant mood today?

They didn’t trust it. Nope, not anymore. Leona had always been one for games, sure, but they had no idea of the scope of the game afoot now. A week and he had acted as if that intimate moment in the throne room never happened; a strange dream or maybe…a shared delusion. Either way, it disturbed them.

Back at Night Raven College, Leona he'd always been more interested in bothering them in class than lectures, lounging in the back of the room like he’d seen and heard it all before. Always…prodding them outside their comfort zone so he could get a read on their truths. Getting them to let their guard down, he was good at that.

Now there he was, a King, still lounging, still watching, his gaze still infuriatingly proding. But, something had changed in the way he looked at them. Like he remembered more than they did. Or maybe he just remembered it better.

They clutched the notebook tighter as a beat of silence passed, ears burning. "Well…did I get it?" Their mouth formed a little line of annoyance he wouldn't miss.

"Almost," he said, reaching over, and before they knew it, Yuu could feel those claws on their scalp. His fingertips never actually touched their skin, but they froze anyway as he bent over them.

One of his long nails traced the top of their temple as he leaned away. "There. Good now, Doctor." Leona let his hand drop back down into his knee. 

He was toying with them.

Yuu’s gaze shifted down, ignoring the tingling that went from their scalp down into their spine as they slammed their journal closed.  “Thanks.”

Outside, desert scrub blurred past the tinted windows, dry and sun-bleached. How Yuu longed to be out there already, knee-deep in thistle, where the king’s intrusive gaze couldn’t reach them.

But the limo kept rolling. And the king was still mere feet away. And Yuu’s heart, the traitorous thing…kept forgetting exactly who he was.

His plan was working, his silent insistence made them want to speak to fill the quiet. To reveal themselves. “So, have you…visited the Tree of Life recently…Your Highness? I heard the land used to be the most fertile of all,” Yuu asked. It was something to keep their mind on the mission and not on him. The question came out casual, but something in their gut already knew the answer. 

Leona’s face turned solemn. He stared out the window, his voice low and even. “No… I haven’t.” A pause as his eyes remained fixed on the passing scenery. “I’ve been occupied with other… matters.”

That word ‘matters’ dripped with something bitter. Yuu caught it immediately, like he resented having to explain himself at all.

Yuu's brow arched slightly, but they bit their tongue. The rumors had whispered truths they couldn’t ignore: too much new construction, over-farmed soil, dwindling crops, famine creeping in at the edges of the kingdom. And he was doing…what, exactly?

“I wonder respectfully, Your Highness... what matters may have come about before such a thing?” They asked, tone neutral, as if they hadn’t just tiptoed across a landmine. Yuu was careful to bury their disdain beneath a mask of curiosity.

Leona’s eyebrows furrowed. Slowly, he turned to look at them, the whites of his eyes stark against the black kohl in his waterline. It was a warning. “Watch yourself, Doctor,” he said, voice low, the danger in it unmistakable. 

Why did they push their luck with him, knowing what could happen? 

Surely, his interest in them…it was superficial. They didn’t know why they expected any special treatment from the King after one little incident or even a shared past. If anything, they were just an object of brief comfort to him, like an old stuffed animal on a shelf. Did he actually want their help to fix the kingdom, or their…attention?

Yuu’s stomach turned cold. They swallowed the lump forming in their throat and dropped their eyes, “I meant no disrespect. But… you hired me to help, My King. I just want to learn as much as I can about the problems this kingdom faces. I…apologize.” Their voice softened, gaze turning toward the window, pulse hammering in their chest. 

For a moment, he studied them from the edge of his gaze, reading their displeased reaction. Then finally, “Mmm...Apology accepted. But don’t forget your place here, Doctor. You’re here to help me fix this mess, not question my decisions.”

Not like they used to. 

Yuu’s chest ached. His words were cold, a slap in the face. They nodded, forcing composure. “Of course... sir.” The honorific left a bitter taste in their mouth.

Holding their journal close to their chest, their fingers pressed tighter on the spine than they needed to be. They shouldn’t let it get to them. But it did. That brief time on the throne beside him when he whispered to them like they mattered, it had fooled them and dared to think the old Leona still lived…beneath the crown.

Stupid.

The air in the car suddenly felt too thick. With a huff, they reached for the window button and rolled it down, letting in a gust of sharp, hot wind.

Leona’s eyes flicked to theirs. “What are you doing?” His voice came out rougher than before.

Yuu let out a huff. “Surveying the local fauna, Your Highness.” The title rolled off their tongue with the smallest edge of facetiousness. Keeping their eyes trained on the barren fields, empty houses blurred past: newly built, but lifeless, the walls tagged with graffiti.

Long Live the King.

The sarcasm in the paint was unmistakable.

Leona followed their gaze, then scowled. “That again…” he muttered, tension rippling through him. “And…Don’t bother. As for the fauna, it's long gone in this area,” he said flatly, reaching over their lap quickly to roll the window up. “We’ll have to go deeper into the countryside to collect samples.”

The window buzzed in their ear as the man's arms stretched over their lap. Yuu nodded but held their breath; a sour feeling building in their gut. Their fingers drifted to their neck, instinctively as if to protect it from him. The spot where he’d drifted his lips across only a few days ago. 

They had wanted to know why, but maybe they shouldn’t have. “Yes…” Yuu murmured, their voice barely filling the silence between them.

Leona noticed as he retreated to his corner, eyes lingering on their fingers at their neck. Of course. 

He didn’t say anything, but something shifted behind his expression. Then, like always, the mask dropped back in place. “You can relax,” he muttered quickly. His voice was softer now, but they couldn’t tell if it was for their sake. “We’ll be there soon.”

Yuu let their head rest against the glass to try to do as he said. Impossible with him, less than a foot away.  “Sure. If you don’t mind...sir. I’ll just rest my eyes for a bit,” They let out a wry laugh. “I usually end up falling asleep at my desk in the greenhouse...The royal limo is a luxury compared to that.” Their voice faded, eyes closing. At least pretending to sleep would relieve them of any more conversation. Yuu curled their legs up onto the seat, trying best to let go of the tension in their limbs.

Of course, they didn’t mean to actually fall asleep. But it came so…easily. The rhythm of the car, the low hum of the engine, the warmth from the sun through the window, and of course…that familiar smell.

Out of nostalgia, their lips mouthed the notes: Cinnamon, nutmeg, star anise, citrus. And in minutes, they were gone.

Yuu didn’t notice their fingers curl lightly around his arm, or that they leaned over at some point, their head resting against his shoulder, nor the way they murmured his name in their dreams.

Say my name.

Leona-

Yuu stirred awake with a faint hum as the car slowed, their cheek brushing against something firm and warm. Their brows knit. It wasn’t the window. And the steady rise and fall beneath their ear wasn’t just the bumps in the road. 

Yuu could feel him breathing near their ear, exhales warming their neck, long silk-pressed hair draped over their shoulder.  For a moment, he was there…behind their lids: the man they knew, early twenties, with an easy, lop-sided grin that always infuriated them.

They didn’t wanna open their eyes to see him. The King. Stoic, prematurely greying, gaze a thousand miles away, with frown lines to match.

Yuu swallowed, finally letting their eyes flutter open, just slightly, enough to see their arm looped with his.

Oh shit.

A sharp jolt of panic raced down their spine as the fantasy faded away. Yuu froze, willing themselves not to react too suddenly. If they moved too fast, it would draw attention. But if they lingered, they’d have to live with the knowledge that they’d let their guard drop that much. That they had sought him out, even unconsciously.

Instead, Yuu tilted their head just enough to glance up at him.

Leona’s eyes were closed, his jaw slack with something approaching peace. He hadn’t shoved them off, or said another word. And…damn, he looked tired.

They hated the way their chest ached at the sight. Hated how easily their body betrayed them with warmth. How stupidly soft they’ve become in the moment.

Finally, Yuu pulled away, slow and careful, trying not to wake him if he was asleep. They flattened their hair, sat up, and stared out the window again. Their jaw tightened. What the hell was wrong with them?

A few moments passed before Leona stirred. Whether he’d been asleep or simply letting them rest, they’d probably never know.

"You really haven't changed, have you? Still falling asleep in the most inconvenient places." His voice was rough, with sleep or maybe…something else. The familiarity in his tone stung.

You’re one to talk. Is what they wanted to say.

Yuu nodded without looking at him. “Yeah, thanks. I didn’t mean to doze off like that…sir.” They straightened their coat, heat blooming in their cheeks. When their hand met their face, their heart was still racing. His smell had seeped into their cheek, the seam of his tunic creating a temporary crease on their skin.

He didn’t press. Didn’t mock. Just let the silence settle as they collected themselves.

Yuu’s hands dropped to their lap. They couldn’t afford to be stupid and careless like that again. That close. Not with him. The last thing they wanted was to encourage what happened before or have a repeat of it. But a part of them…some stubborn, stupid, still bleeding part…had wanted to dream of the past for just a little longer.

And that scared them more than anything. 

Meanwhile, the king’s expression stayed hidden, and his attention suddenly seemed focused on whatever scenery rushed past the window, craning his head strategically away from them. The only indication of his emotions was his clawed fingers, twitching restlessly on the leather seat between them. 

Yuu swallowed down the dryness of sleep still caught in their throat. “And, uh…thank you for... not waking me. I must’ve…needed that,” they said, voice lighter than they felt, tagging on a forced laugh at the end.

A chuff, almost a laugh. “Yeah, you were drooling on me, ya know.” A smirk appeared at last to match his tone, slow and crooked on his lips.

 “S-sorry, sir.” They huffed, trying to play it off, stretching their arms up over their head. “Not very professional of me, huh?” A smile tugged helplessly at their lips.

“Not very professional at all, Doctor,” They could hear his smirk.

Was that actually a joke? 

“Drooling all over the king’s shoulder. Hmph, what would the council think if they knew you had such sloppy sleeping habits, hm?”

Yuu snorted, leaning into the teasing, despite the prickling of their cheeks. “Aaa, exile, I expect? Or maybe…they won’t invite me to any more of those…parties. That’s fine. I’m sure the council doesn’t think much of me anyway.”

Leona chuckled, low and rough. His gaze lingered on them for a second too long, like he was seeing something that was not in the present.

“Well…it’s a good thing for you I hired you, isn’t it? Tch, and the council-” He shrugged. “It’s true they couldn’t care less about you. To them, I’m afraid you’re just an outsider, like me.”

That caught Yuu off guard. They turned their head, studying him with a quiet curiosity. “You really feel that way?” they asked softly. “I mean... You grew up there, in the palace, didn’t you?” Their mouth went off without them again, almost as if this was just normal conversation.

He shrugged, slower this time. His face closed off, solemn.

"Yeah...yeah, I did," he replied gruffly. “But remember, I was the second-born, the spare. Born with a magic that could level the palace. My life was never my own. Besides, my brother was always the one destined for greatness, not me." There was no venom in his voice, just that worn-down bitterness, like a stone that had been smoothed by years of erosion.

Yuu tilted their head, watching him carefully. It was just like before, a glimmer of pain, seeping from the cracks of a mask, “But...you…you’re the King now,” They said.

Leona scoffed, the sound sharp. “Right, of course. I’m the king now.” He leaned back against the seat, exhaling a breath that seemed to carry all the weight of their years apart. “Even now, there are still whispers behind my back. Questioning my competency. Calling me a monster. Nothing’s changed, really,” He squinted. “I'm not supposed to be here. To the kingdom, I'm just a usurper, sitting on a throne that never belonged to me.”

Yuu hesitated, biting their lip before glancing at him once more. His voice was raw just as it was before. They wanted to help, but what could they say that could actually help him navigate any of this? Instead, their words came out like a sloppy bandage. “But- even if it’s not exactly as you expected, there’s still so much potential... Le-” They caught themselves. “er-Your Highness.”

From the corner of their eye, they saw him watching them, a flicker of something softer in his eyes, amusement maybe.

“Potential, huh? That’s naive,” he echoed, voice wrapped in nostalgia. “...You sound like he did.” It was a softer response than they expected. Yuu was sure that few dared even bring up the subject of the past to the King. 

Their heart slowed, and it instilled them with false confidence to keep running their damn mouth. “Even if it wasn’t destined to be yours, it is now. You…have the power to mold it into whatever you desire.”

Too much.

Leona laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You make it sound so painfully simple, Doctor," he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of frustration. "As if it's so easy to change everything. I’ve tried…I don't have the vision that Farena had, the drive to make this kingdom better. Sometimes…I'm not sure that I even care. Power? Sure, I’ve got that. But it all comes with a price. Political games. Backstabbin’. Assassination threats-” He shook his head and looked out the window again.

Yuu frowned, the frustration tugging at Leona’s words made their next thought slip out before they could stop it. “Well... then why are you still here then? Why not leave it to another? Let the council figure it out. Elect a-”

“What?” His laugh this time was dark and sharp, like a blade drawn. “Ha. Just leave? This is my home. My kingdom. My birthright.” His eyes flashed, wild and cornered. “The council would never let me go. I’m not Farena, the perfect heir. I’m the wild card. The dark horse. They’d never allow me to walk away…unscathed.” There was a pause. Then, more quietly, he muttered, “Besides... even if I could leave, where would I even go?”

Yuu winced. “That’s…fair.” They shook their head, eyes stinging from the sharpness in his tone. “Maybe it was…childish of me to suggest. But... if you can’t leave, and you don’t care, then…?” Their grip tightened on the bottom of the seat. “I guess…I don’t understand, sir.”

Leona scoffed again, the noise hard and hollow. “You don’t understand... of course you don’t.”

He ran a hand through his hair, and Yuu watched him, heart sinking with the sight of him unraveling just enough to reveal what he kept hidden beneath the surface.

“You think it’s easy to care when everything you ever cared about is gone,” he said, each word raw. “When you have nothing left to fight for. When everything you ever…loved has been taken from you.” His voice rose slightly, shaking. “How could you possibly understand what it’s like to be trapped like this? To have your life decided for you. To be living in your own casket?”

Nothing left? 

Yuu swallowed hard at that word in particular. Nothing. They didn’t look away, feeling their own emotions bubble up. Anger even.

“Maybe you’re right...but-” Their voice was quiet, throat tight. “It’s true, I’ve never been through exactly what you have. I can’t imagine how it must be if...I lost what you’ve lost.” They exhaled, slow and steady. “But I’ve lost. I don’t have a home. No family. I know what it means to feel alone.” They bowed their head slightly, slipping their composure back into place like a mask. “I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone- I apologize again...I just wish I knew what to say to help…Your Highness.” They gritted out the title, blinking away any tears that threatened to swell up.

It had been a horrible move. This wasn’t the Leona that Yuu once knew. That ‘Leona’ was gone…as much a relic of the past as he saw them to be. What sat next to them now was the King of Beasts: a husk with memories that they happened to share of better times.

For what seemed like forever, there was only silence. When they glanced back up, Leona was watching them as expected.

“Hear me when I say this. I told you before: there’s nothing anyone can say or do to help me,” he muttered, voice rough, almost defeated. “This…this is my destiny,” his eyes turned from Yuu to the Savanna. “There’s no getting out of this alive for me. That’s all there is to it.”

He was right, he had warned them that day on the throne. They were powerless to help him. “Yes, my King.” --

The limo pulled off the main road with a gentle crunch of gravel, tires rolling to a stop at the edge of a sun-baked ridge. Up ahead lay the Tree of Life itself, providing shade from the shimmering heat waves, its great branches swaying in the wind. Yuu opened their door first, tossing their bag over their head. They stepped out quickly, grateful, for once, for the dry heat that greeted them. It was tangible, real, and a much-needed distraction.

Wind tugged at the loose pieces of their hair as they scanned the dusty landscape. As they were told, the southern ridge was blooming, dotted with flecks of stubborn green blooms. They dropped to one knee, already unzipping their field kit bag, their heart steadying with the rhythm of a ritual they had done thousands of times before.

Behind them, they could feel Leona watching. Of course, he was.

His sandals crunched the gravel behind them, measured and unhurried.

“This area hasn’t seen sustained rainfall in eight months,” They started. “But the helichrysum stoechas here are thriving, somehow. If it’s evolved a drought-resilient trait, it could be useful for-”

Yuu caught themselves rambling, and shut their mouth before they could say something foolish like: Would you stop standing so close?

Leona crouched beside them, surprisingly quiet for someone so used to being announced when he entered a room. “You speak of it like it’s a damn miracle,” he said, brushing a clawed finger just over a cluster of yellow blooms, gently spreading the petals with his knuckles.

Their eyes flicked to him. “In a way, it is”

He looked up at them, and for a moment, the wind stilled. Something in his face softened like some old, half-forgotten memory had passed behind his eyes. “You…always got like this around the gardens. Like the world could be narrowed down to the size of a single stem.”

Yuu frowned to hide their slight amusement. “I didn’t realize you remembered anything from school.”

“I remember everything, Doctor,” he said, voice low. As his head tilted, the curled locks of dark hair whipped around his furrowed brow. 

They were a bit taken aback. “Well…I’m afraid most of us don’t share your talent, Your Highness. It…must be nice.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t ya, Doctor?” He made a small click with his tongue, the edge of his mouth flicking up.

Before Yuu could answer, their datapad in their pocket chimed, a notification from the soil sensor. Fishing it from their pocket gratefully, they retreated back into the safety of their task. Numbers. Ratios. Things that didn’t look at them like that.

“Hmm, I’ll need to collect some root samples. The acidity levels here are off the charts. It’s strange…Seems something’s affecting the soil from underneath.” Yuu stood, brushing their knees off. “I’ll have to dig deeper.”

Leona rose too beside them, his gaze steady. “Then I’ll stay.”

“You…don’t have to, s-sir.” They said a little too quickly, maybe seeming a bit too eager to get rid of him.

“Oh, I know.” He chewed his lip as he spoke, quirking a brow at them.

Of course.

Resisting the urge to roll their eyes, they chose to grit their teeth instead. Yuu knelt again, turning their device scanner, eyes narrowing at the sudden spike in the moisture index. “That’s not right,” They muttered, head tilted at the screen.

Leona hovered beside them, quiet but present, letting them take the lead.

“It’s saying: there’s…water deeper down,” They said. “But the surface here is bone-dry. Like something’s… blocking it.”

“Hmm,” He crouched beside them once more, brows slightly furrowed as he scanned the readout. “Need  me to open the ground?” He didn’t move. Just waited for their instruction, patiently. But, they could feel his strong magic already building. After being the only person without it back then, it was something that became quite familiar to Yuu. They could sense it, coiled beneath the skin of others like a second heartbeat.

With Leona, it was like static, smooth, and gritty at the same time. The type of power that made you stop breathing for a second. It was the same earth magic they’d seen him use many times: splitting entire sports fields or…reducing a man to dust in seconds.

They swallowed. “Yes, uh-I need a trench around these bushes. About two feet deep.”

Leona nodded. Then, with a soft grumble and sweep of his hand, the ground cracked and parted. The loose dirt shifted effortlessly like silk being pulled away from skin. It danced to his will, calculated and precise, like the man controlling it. Nothing like the chaos they remembered from his overblot all those years ago, when that same talent had been a brutal storm. 

Yuu couldn’t help it, their hands froze over their scanner, eyes fixed not on the newly made trench, but on him as they stepped back from the crack in the ground.

He noticed. “You’re afraid of me,” he said, not accusing. Not even surprised.

“Just being cautious, My King.” They replied, fast, a bit too fast. 

He stood slowly, clapping his palms of sand even though they were spotless. “Same thing.”

“N-no.” They straightened, gripping their datapad with white-knuckles. “It’s…not.”

Leona looked at them, and for once, his gaze wasn’t severe; it was tired. Heavy in a way that almost made their chest ache. He sighed. “There ya go…Doctor.” He said, putting an uncomfortable emphasis on their title. Tucking his hands behind his back as he stepped away, he plastered on the most unconvincing smile Yuu had ever seen.

“Thank you…Your Highness.” They mumbled, echoing his cadence before kneeling back near the new trench. Meanwhile, the sensors continued buzzing in their hands. “Strange, the deeper layers are reacting to something… It’s shifting something upward. Like the soil’s been…disturbed recently.” They dug, a bit of dirt collecting under their nails.

The pad beeped again, it was sharper this time. Yuu leaned forward, brushing away the topmost grains of sand with a few fingers. Beneath the dirt, something caught the light, faint, reflective. “Your Highness,” they called, “There’s something here-.”

“I know.” He grumbled. “I can smell it.” He moved beside them again, silent as a shadow. In an instant, he was kneeling beside them, hovering his hands over theirs. 

They swallowed. Yuu could feel it, the way his magic caressed their palm, tugging subtly at the edges of the sand beneath their fingers, and making the hair on their arms stand on end. He was making it easier for them, softening the dirt for them to sift through faster.

What emerged wasn’t just rock.

“Is that?”

He tsked. “A magestone.”

“There’s…a lot.” They gasped.

Magestones were not their specialty, but they’d lived in this world long enough to know they were rare. Too rare. And loose? They’d never heard of them being mined in the Sunset Savanna. A gem known for holding and focusing magical energy… Yuu craned their head to look at him. “I didn’t know magestones were mined in this area of the world.”

Leona didn’t answer immediately. He pressed his palm to the earth near the cluster as if he could feel the pull. “Dammit.” The sand around Yuu’s fingers trembled briefly, reacting to him. “No,” he said finally. “But, someone’s buried them here.”

Their breath caught, mind spinning. “Why?”

Leona rose, brushing sand from his knees. His eyes were sharper now, no longer just watching them, but the horizon too. “If someone’s stockpiling magestones here,” he said slowly, “They’re not interested in healing the soil.”

Then it clicked, Yuu stared down at the pile of glimmering stones, their raw crystalline edges catching the sun. And for the first time since they stepped onto the ridge, they weren’t thinking about his magic. Or how close he stood to them. This seemed bigger.

Who had the motive to bury something this valuable in the middle of a dying ecosystem…and why?

Leona turned to them. “Document everythin’. Quietly. Don’t report it to the council yet.”

Their brow furrowed. “But if this is a threat to-”

“I said not yet.” He hissed, his nostrils flaring slightly with a barely contained frustration. His voice was sharp, but not cruel. They understood his frustration was not directed at them.

Yuu nodded slowly, swallowing questions they weren’t ready to ask him yet. Was someone staging a coup? One of the rebel groups? Or someone on the council? It was clear Leona didn't trust any of them, and neither did they put much stock in their king. Especially now after his stunt with Griza.

The wind picked up again, the yellow blooms around them bent low to the ground, as if they knew something was coming.

Documenting the coordinates of the location in silence, Yuu managed to keep their hands steady despite the tremble they could feel somewhere deeper, caged inside their ribs. 

Meanwhile, Leona stood behind them like a statue, back to theirs. They glanced back to see the outline of his silhouette gilded in the morning light, unmoving. 

“I’ll log the data,” Yuu started, voice soft, almost getting lost in the wind. “Leaving out the obvious, of course-”

“Good,” Leona replied. And there was a short beat of silence. “I…trust ya.”

Yuu paused at that, letting out a breath before turning off the display of their data pad. As they stared down at their reflection in the dark screen, they couldn’t help but notice how quiet his words were… so unadorned, casual. But the words made their heart flutter anyways.

I trust ya.

Yuu wondered if he knew what that meant to hear aloud, after everything. After all these years. 

Sliding the datapad into their satchel, they stood slowly, brushing their fingers clean. The trench Leona created remained open beside them, like a gaping wound in the earth. “What… happens now?”

Leona’s gaze didn’t waver. “Now? We keep it between us. For now.”

Yuu turned to face him. The sun hung low, casting gold over his cheekbones and curling in the dark strands of his hair. It should’ve softened him. It didn’t. But something else did. His expression wasn’t stoic or commanding. Just...searching. Leona usually wasn’t one to mince words but…did he really trust them? 

They swallowed under his gaze, as the reality settled upon them: they were in the middle of nowhere with a powerful man- no a King, capable of casual murder. And they were letting an old school crush cloud their vision. They should have been furious with themselves. 

“You’re…afraid I’ll report it,” They confessed, not as a question.

“No, Doctor. I’m afraid…you’ll get hurt if you do, that you don’t understand the consequences,” he replied.

That stopped their breath, just for a second. He was afraid for them?

“You think someone would try to…silence me?”

“I tend to work on absolutes, Doctor. Things I know,” he said carefully, “And I know that someone took a whole lotta’ effort to bury these stones. I know there are only a few uses for a country to stock this many unregistered magestones. Especially ones that the King of that country isn’t privy to.” He scowled. 

“We don’t know who’s behind this… However, I know, currently, I don’t hold the council's favor. And I… being the one that hired you,” His arm reached out, a single claw tracing their scalp like before in the car. “Well, that makes us… affiliated.” His eyes dropped, tracing their face. “Don’t it?”

Heat worked its way up the back of their neck, though not from the sun this time. 

Leona shot them a crooked smile, clearly amused by his effect on their expression. He dropped his hand from them, face growing stern once more. “If someone on the council is involved, I have my ways to draw them out. ‘Til then-”

Before they had time to process further, Leona stepped closer, slow, deliberate. His presence wasn’t something they could escape, not with distance, not with logic. Not anymore.

“We’re in cahoots,”  A pause. “Doctor,” 

They let out a choked sound. An hour ago, they wanted to avoid him for the sake of the past, but now it was possible they needed him, for all things…protection? They wanted to scream, stomp their feet in the dirt like a child. Curse themselves for accepting his invitation for this damn job in the first place. But, all Yuu managed was a pathetic response. “But-you…you’re in danger too.”

Leona’s dark lids dipped low over the cat-like pupils of his green irises. They were close enough to his face now to see them double in size. Had they pleased him so much? “Mmm, your concern is precious as always. But, do ya really think this is the first time the council has schemed to get ridda’ me?” 

The wind kicked up dust again, spiraling around both their sandals. Somewhere above the stillness, a few vultures cried overhead.

Yuu exhaled, at a loss, shaking their head slowly as the weight of it all pressed onto them. They could only imagine what it must have been like…to keep one eye open at all times, to constantly look over your shoulder, to have no one to truly watch your back.  “No, no, but I sincerely hope...that this is not the case, Your Highness.”

He just laughed, well, more like chuffed. --

The sun had dipped in the sky by the time they left the ridge, Leona making sure to leave the dirt packed exactly as it was before they came.

Inside the limo, the air was quieter than before, but strangely less tense. Yuu sat beside their King, satchel clutched to their chest, datapad encrypted and safely tucked away. Their eyes drifted to the window as the busy streets of an outlying city sped past.

Leona hadn’t spoken since they left the site. Neither had they. But, this silence felt less awkward and more like something…shared, the new secrets held between them. There was an understanding of survival.  Somehow, it was easier to coexist with him now, to reach his gaze. 

They opened their mouth to speak.

Until the driver stopped.

Yuu slid forward, brows knitting, nearly dropping their bag. Their stomach churned uneasily at the King’s reaction.  “W-why are we stopping?”

Leona had already straightened beside them, his brown ears flicked forward. “Something’s wrong.”

They had stopped at a bend in a dirt road, as a crowd began surrounding the car.

A blockade?

Dozens of them. Faces masked, signs raised, some glowing with enchanted script. Yuu couldn’t read them from this distance, but the tone was unmistakable. “Protesters?” They asked, already reaching for the door controls.

“No, these aren't protesters, they're...ex-guards,” Leona said grimly, a pained familiarity rushing past his gaze. 

Yuu had heard that the prior palace guard had all quit shortly after Farlena’s death, refusing to serve the new King. Rumors had ravaged the capital that he was responsible for his brother’s death, and the whole family. Yuu had never really put stock in it. Sure, he was a different man now, but murder his own family? 

Shouts rang out as heavy rocks began hitting the vehicle. There was the familiar glow of magic, then a crack in the window near their head. Yuu’s breath stopped, biting back a yelp.

They even jumped at the whirl of the limo's partition sliding down. Then the driver’s voice came through, tight with panic: “Your Highness, we’re surrounded and someone’s jammed the car's radio signal. I can’t call for backup.”

“Stay inside,” Leona ordered, already moving, his hand wrapped around the door handle. 

“Wait, Le-”

But he was already out the door.

They watched from inside. The moment his feet hit the ground, the sand answered.

A jagged wall surged up from the road in front of the limo, cutting off the nearest rebels. Not harming, yet, but enough to stagger the front line back. Enough to say: ‘Back off.’

Through the tinted glass, they saw him standing at the center of it, eyes sharp, tunic whipping around him.

When the dust rose, it was getting hard to see him in the chaos. There came an odd hush over the crowd. Then a blinding light. Someone hurled a small explosive, and judging by the flashing of prismatic colors, it was magic-laced.

It must have struck somewhere near the back wheel, because the shockwave knocked the limo sideways.

“Ah!”

Yuu’s shoulder slammed hard into the cracked window, the dust causing their eyes to water. Their satchel spilled from their lap. It all seemed to happen in a heartbeat, but they were unsure if they had lost consciousness or not. Pain had zipped up their arm as they palmed near their feet for the datapad, all the ringing in their ears was so shrill they thought they might be bleeding. As they slipped the object back in their bag, a lioness crept beside the sunroof to peer in at them. Her wide eyes softened at the sight of them, lying there. “There’s someone else in the car!” Just like that, she was gone into the cloud of dust that surrounded the car.

When the other door, now above their head, burst open, their breath caught, expecting a stranger's face.

But it was Leona. He was dust-covered too, wild-eyed, furious, but he was okay.

They didn’t have time to sigh in relief, he was already reaching inside the cab and pulling them out with both arms, “Are ya hurt?”

Yuu blinked, still dazed by the bomb, they found their hands on his shoulders as he maneuvered them around the flipped vehicle. “What n-no, I-”

Another blast went off nearby, causing them to jump into the cage of his arms. He cursed low, pressing himself against them, against the limo, his body a shield between them and the attack.

His palms were on either side of their face now, his gaze seeming to scan them for injuries. 

“I-I have the datapad I-” Yuu’s fingers gripped his shoulders as if to reassure him of their well-being, the heat of his body soaking into theirs.  “I-I’m okay. My ankle got caught under the seat, and my arm-” They grit their teeth, “...just some scratches.” They glanced down at their left arm, it had taken most of the impact when the car flipped.

“Don’t cha’ lie to me.” He breathed back, pressing himself harder against them, a section of his dark hair shifting over his shoulder. It should have hurt, but instead, they felt relieved to be at the center of his focus for once.

Maybe it was how hard they hit their head, but they actually laughed in the King’s face, his expression more resembling a worried puppy than any sort of intimidating figure. “I would be better…if my King wasn’t pressing all his weight onto me,” they said, teeth gritted.

Leona’s own laugh was brief, ragged, and almost a growl. There was a manic levity to the sound, as if the sight of them being here to scold him relieved him. He backed off of them some, his fingertips still touching the frame around them to keep them near. 

“Jus’ focus on me-.” He mused, then his sand moved again. It spiked in uniform arcs around them, curling like protective serpents, walling them both in until it was only them. Everything else fell away, and the outside was silenced besides their tandem breathing. Their heart thundered as they felt the thrum of his magic pulsing through the earth beneath their sandals, through their body from his.

He wasn’t just guarding; he was focusing only on Yuu. 

Safely encased from the chaos, the ground cracked before them, just feet from where they stood against the limo. A tunnel? Stairs and all? Smart. But, they expected nothing less of him.

“Follow, n’ lean on me, that ankle is worse than you’re actin’.” he said, so quietly Yuu barely heard it over the wind. 

All they could do was nod when the thought struck them: “Wait…Where’s the driver?” --