#unless it’s in a group setting or their beating each other up

[daosies]

like thunder

this piece is part of the spring & swag event!!

Everyone at the Akademiya knows that Hat Guy is difficult to reach; unless you're involved, of course.

wanderer ♡ gn!reader

warnings: use of "[name]," reader is a scholar

notes: HELLO AGAIN WANDERER NATION

“Hat Guy! Can you—” a fellow scholar begins, but is quickly interrupted by Wanderer’s ruthless tone.

“No.” 

“[Name] was just wondering if—”

“What?”

“[Name] was just wondering if you could lend us all a hand with the set pieces for Nilou’s performance.” 

Wanderer mutters something under his breath, his brows furrowed while his teeth grind against each other, furious. 

“Fine.”

“Great! See you later today, then!” 

Wanderer doesn’t miss the way the scholar grins, the way their expression morphs into one of insufferable triumph. Clicking his tongue, Wanderer rolls his eyes, his hand tugging at the brim of his hat in a futile attempt to hide his own self-satisfaction. 

Helping with set pieces? Count him out. You were wondering if he could help, though? Maybe he can spare an hour. Or two. Or however many you need him for—maybe, just maybe! 

Your involvement is the reason why Wanderer arrives at the Grand Bazaar two hours before Nilou’s supposed performances. So he can lend a hand with the set pieces; so he can be an active, useful member of society; so he can—oh, and suddenly, the wind stills, his chest shudders, ricocheting. 

Wanderer’s greatest flaw is that he has too much and too little heart, that he feels the rush of humanity despite, really, not being human at all. It is because of this flaw that he has long forsaken the land of his creation, where lightning splits the sky, a spasm of Celestia. 

“Wanderer!” you exclaim, beckoning him over. You are the only one in this world who greets him like that. You look at him, and Wanderer shivers, goosebumps rippling all throughout his skin despite not feeling cold. The surge of humanity, the still of the wind—you bring forth his greatest flaws, wielding him like some sort of doll, reaching into the cavity of his chest, squeezing the heart which has never existed. 

He reincarnates. Alive. You look at him, and Wanderer feels his heart, resuscitated, beating, alive. He’s alive! Like lightning, splitting the sky; like thunder, shaking the earth. 

“I’m so glad you came!” you say, grinning, and Wanderer merely scoffs. 

“Of course you are,” he quips, the callousness of his voice not matching the tenderness of his gaze, the humanity which spills from the cornflower color of his eyes. “You need someone with an Anemo vision to hang up the banners.”

You laugh. “How’d you know?” 

Wanderer clicks his tongue. “You’re terribly simple.” How could I not? he thinks.

Wanderer’s greatest flaw aligns with his greatest weakness. You. 

“Hat Guy!” Not even a day later—after Nilou’s performance, after he helped set up not only the banners, but also, the lanterns which hung from the ceiling—another one of his classmates clamor towards him, waving a report in their hand. 

Wanderer doesn’t even respond. His pace quickens, and the vision on the side of his chest begins to glow, a breeze beginning to form at the heels of his feet. 

“[Name] was asking abou—”

The forming hurricane comes to a halt, and Wanderer’s levitating figure lowers to the ground. 

“What?” 

“[Name] was asking if you were going to attend the study group later today?” 

Wanderer furrows his brows. “Of course not. Why would I need to study?” 

Not even an hour later, the door to the library swings open. There you are—the surge, the lightning, the thunder—surrounded by a plethora of books and even more people. They all seem drawn to you, asking you questions, throwing the precious syllables of your name around haphazardly. Wanderer frowns at the sight.

“Wanderer?” you suddenly say, noticing him first. Something ricochets in his chest, resonating throughout the hollow space, thunderous. “What’re you doing here? I thought you said you didn’t need to study?”

Wanderer scoffs. “Of course I don’t.” 

“But you’re… here? At the study group?” 

Wanderer pulls a seat up next to yours, ignoring the broken cries of a classmate who was trying to ask you a couple of questions.

“I am. You have a problem with that?” 

You grin that grin of yours, and Wanderer has half the urge to cover your face with his hand—Why are you smiling like that? he wonders, glaring at the other scholars sitting at the same table as you, completely enamored by your expression. 

“No,” you reply. “Actually, I was just wondering about this part of Inazuman history…” 

Wanderer has long forsaken his homeland. But you—oh, you; when it comes to you, there’s lightning, there’s thunder, but most of all, there’s love. 

And that, Wanderer thinks, is the greatest flaw of humanity. 

That’s why it’s his.

[bbydoll18xx]

She’s Such a Good Girl (Part 2)

Paige continues her assault on your innocence, leading you to spiral.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Themes: angst in the beginning, Paige being hot and flirty the rest of it woohoo, mentions of being horny oops

Part 1 - You move in across the hall from Paige Bueckers. It doesn’t take long before she tries to shatter your innocent persona. And you just let her.

Masterlist

A/N: I’m so, so grateful for all the love on the first part of this little mini series. Let me know if you are up for a third part:)) I have soo many ideas it's ridiculous

~

You wake up feeling anything but well rested. Your sleep was muddled with dreams of Paige, her smile infiltrating your unconsciousness until you woke up with an uncomfortable stickiness in between your thighs. You groan into your pillow, the general overwhelmingness of last night draining you even more.

Grabbing your phone from your bedside table, you see a text from Paige, and the butterflies erupt inside of you once more. 

‘We’re all planning on going out tonight. You’re coming with us.’

Her bluntness momentarily stuns you, but you were grateful to be included. It seemed she was hell bent on getting you out of your shell, for whatever reason, and you were simply just going to concede. You needed this.

You respond, your heart beating out of your chest, and the anxiety begins to set in. 

It was getting harder and harder to deny the gay feelings you had. And although it had been years since your “oh shit, I’m gay,” moment had dawned on you, this was reaching new heights of awareness. But you had refused to truly accept it thus far.

You had a complicated relationship with your sexuality. Most of the time you had shied away from even acknowledging it; it was too painful. In high school, you were surrounded by other gay people, and it felt like you almost belonged, slowly coming to terms with your sapphism. But as you moved away to college, you were the only one in your friend group who was even a little remotely queer, and you felt isolated by your glaring differences. 

Your religious upbringing did not help the situation either. You quickly learned how to hide your emotions. Slurs were regularly thrown around the dinner table, the nasty words cutting into your being, and your fists would be tightening in your lap, fighting to keep a neutral expression on your face.

You could not give yourself away.

As soon as you could, you’d seek solace in your room, hot, shameful tears sliding down your cheeks, forcing yourself to quiet the sobs erupting through your chest. The words of contempt echoed through your mind, until eventually you had nearly come to believe them yourself. 

Each evening you clasped your hands together desperately in prayer, vehemently struggling with everything you had been raised to know and everything you wanted and needed to feel. It was an eternal battle that raged on inside, slowly withering you into a ghost, haunted by the darkness that had flourished in the absence of support and acceptance.

You wondered what the people who had claimed to love and know you the most, would do if they found out about your dirty, little secret. The anxieties about being outed manifested in cruel dreams, awakening you suddenly, a thin layer of sweat glistening on your body as your chest rose and fell in quick staccato breaths. 

That was something you still wondered today. And you would certainly wonder for the rest of your life. You had vowed that you would never come out to your family unless you truly fell in love with a girl. So you had kept everyone at arm's length to protect yourself. But Paige Bueckers was slowly breaking your walls down, brick by brick. 

A wave of nausea washes over you as you realize that getting closer to Paige meant toying the line of the false heteronormative persona you’ve been carefully crafting since you were a young teenager. The temptation of feeling normal in a group of girls quickly shuts down any immediate worries. That was a problem for another time. 

You hear your roommates in the living room, bustling around without having any idea of your internal battle. With a sigh, you drag yourself out of bed to go out to meet them, already preparing for the deafening noises that would inevitably come with telling them of last night's events. 

You open your door, nearly shuffling your feet against the carpet as you walk out to greet Taylor and Sarah. Their heads turn from the focus on the television, faces set in smiles as they see you emerge from your room.

“Guess what I did last night?” You prompt them, and their faces morph into ones of natural curiosity. 

“Did you read your class syllabuses to get a head start?” Sarah asks sarcastically, and you stick your tongue out at her in false derision. 

“No,” you scoff, although her guess was not completely off base. “I went over and hung out with Paige and the rest of the team.”

Taylor and Sarah were uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. They glanced at each other, momentarily stunned before erupting in hollers, jumping to their feet in excitement. 

“How the fuck did that happen?” Taylor all but yells, still jumping up and down. It was a good thing you did not have downstairs neighbors.

“Well they were being so loud, and I wanted to go to bed, so I knocked on the door to politely ask them to shut up,” you explain, trying to hide the giddiness you felt as you recalled the events of last night.

“And Paige answered and invited me in. And now I’m going out with her and the team tonight,” you finish, carefully watching the reactions of your two best friends. 

Their faces were morphed into ones of sheer delight and astonishment.

“My innocent, little angel is growing up,” Taylor exclaims, pretending to wipe a tear from her eye, and you swat at her, giggling at the sheer hilarity of the situation.

“What am I supposed to wear to a bar?” You ask, and the girls shriek in laughter, clapping their hands and promising to help you get dressed later.

You feel better about everything, the support from your roommates briefly quelling the fears and uncertainties that had plagued your mind for years. And your excitement was a testimony to the effect a certain blonde had on you.

~

“You’ve got great tits. Might as well show them off,” Sarah says exasperatedly, shoving one of her low cut tops at you.

Your face heats up, and you hold up the tiny tank top. “Don’t you think it’s a little, I don’t know, slutty?” Your voice trails to a whisper as you think about purposely showing off your body. 

“That’s the point, girl! It’s finally your time to show everyone what you’re fucking made of. Go be a sexy, bad bitch!” Taylor urges, slapping you on the butt as she does.

You take a deep breath, nodding in agreement, finally pushing yourself further away from the perfect, good girl act that had been placed upon you since you were a child. 

You don the skimpy black tank, admiring the way it shows off your slim waist, and you pair it with tight jeans that accentuate the curve of your ass perfectly. You fluff your hair and add a layer of lip gloss, before taking one last long glance in the mirror.

You could do this.

With a few encouraging words from your roommates and a few slaps to your ass, you nervously make your way across the hall to knock once more on Paige’s door. The door is thrown open, loud cheers erupting as you appear, and KK launches herself at you excitedly, throwing her arms around you and pulling you into her. 

Giggling, you hug her back, your nerves melting away at her friendly disposition. She pulls away, eyeing you up and down with an approving nod. “Someone cooked here,” she smirks, and your face blooms an embarrassing shade of deep red.

“My roommates kind of helped me get dressed,” you admit, hands tugging down your impossibly small shirt. 

“Girl, you look fineee,” she says, rubbing her hands together, causing several of the other girls to cackle at her not so subtle attempt to rizz you up.

“Who looks fine?” you hear a familiar voice, and your head whips in the direction of the question. You see Paige sauntering towards you, and your heart immediately begins to pound as your eyes rake over her tall figure. 

Her hair was down in blonde waves, making you want to reach out and run your hand through the soft-looking locks. Her toned stomach was exposed from her crop top, her abs flashing in a way that had your stomach rolling with an unfamiliar feeling. You couldn’t necessarily put your finger on it, but it shot down in an intense display of unbridled want. And she had the smuggest look on her face, accentuating the plumpness of her bottom lip. Your tongue subconsciously darts out to lick a slow line against your own lip as you watch her approach you.

KK points at you, waggling her eyebrows. “The pretty princess over here.” 

You blush again. Shit, you really had to get that under control. 

Paige hums, looking you up and down once more. “She’s not wrong,” she mutters huskily in your ear as she pulls you in for a hug. Your knees weaken at her touch, and you aren't sure if you’d be able to survive the night. It had just begun, and she had you completely and irrevocably fucked. 

30 minutes later, you, Paige, and the other members of UCONN’s women’s basketball team were shuffling into several ubers to head to a nearby bar. Unsure of which car to get into, you awkwardly stand off to the side, the anxiety pumping through your veins once more, but you soon feel a muscular arm wrap around your waist.

Looking up, you are met with Paige’s blue eyes and that smug smirk, and with a wink, she guides you to the nearest car, helping you into the backseat. As you sit, you adjust your top, overly aware of how much of your chest was actually out. Paige sits next to you, settling in with a low grunt, and she immediately places a hand on your thigh. Your eyes focus on the veins and the length of her fingers, and that feeling in your belly ignites again. 

As you arrive at the bar, Paige helps you out of the car with a chivalrous hand. And it does not leave yours as you enter the doors. She laces her fingers through yours, and you don’t miss the way it feels so damn right. She guides you through the crowds of people, and your breath hitches, feeling slightly overwhelmed from the volume and the hoards of drunk people pushing into your frame. 

Paige notices immediately, and she pulls you closer, tucking you into her side protectively. You preen at the attention, the feeling so foreign but addictive. You needed more, and the idea of it ripped away from you sent an unsettling spike of dread shooting through you maliciously. 

Subtly, you shake your head in a futile attempt to clear the thoughts out of your head. Overthinking was sure to be your downfall. Nothing a little alcohol couldn’t fix, though.

Aside from the occasional glass of wine, you had never really drank. And you certainly had never done shots. But when Nika and Aubrey had thrusted a tray of them towards where you and Paige were sitting, you were quick to grab one, eager to dull the bitter voices in your head. 

You bring it to your face, taking a hesitant sniff that causes your nose to wrinkle, eliciting a fond chuckle from the blonde. “Do I just sip it or…?” You trail off shyly, suddenly very aware of how ridiculous you sounded. What kind of college girl didn’t know how to take a shot?

Paige bites her lip. “Lemme help you, baby,” she mutters in your ear, and she takes the shot out of your hand. “Breathe all of the air out and then swallow it all at once before you take another breath, okay?” 

You nod, letting the air leave your mouth, lips pouting. Without her gaze leaving your mouth, Paige holds up the shot glass, pouring the liquid down your throat in a swift motion. 

You swallow quickly, feeling the burn slide down your throat and settle into a warm pool in your belly. You lick your lips, trying to catch a tiny drop that had slid past your mouth and trailed down your chin towards your neck. 

Before you can chase the trickle, Paige leans in, swiping it with her thumb, placing it into her mouth and sucking, her cheeks hollowing in the process. 

Your face morphs into a look of shock, and she gives you a shit-eating grin. The effect she had on you was something out of a book you spent many lonely nights immersing yourself in. And now that you were living in the crystal clear reality, you regretted not getting out of your shell a little sooner. 

“Can I do another?” You ask, already looking at the tray where a few shots still remained. 

Paige laughs. “Maybe wait a few, princess. The alcohol will kick in soon,” she promises. “You can share mine,” she gestures to her drink, and you don’t miss the way the pet name rolls off her tongue effortlessly. 

Paige was not lying when she had told you that the effects would soon hit you. Before you could even start to feel uncomfortable, a delicious easiness fell over you, loosening you up in a way you had never experienced before. You reach for Paige’s straw once more, pretending that her mouth was not just on it, and you relish in the sweet liquid adding to your tipsiness.

Paige had stayed close all night, similarly to the night before, and you were grateful for her constant presence anchoring you. The other girls took turns dancing with you, showering you with compliments and making future plans. Even through the haze of the alcohol, your heart felt as if it could burst; they were all so nice, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you actually belonged. 

The night flies by, and as it does, you and Paige get more and more touchy. Her hands took turns between trailing down your back and resting heavily on your hips. She played with a lock of your hair, twisting it in her fingers as you swayed to the music, and she was constantly gazing at you through heavy lids, pupils blown from the darkness of the bar and pure want.

Emboldened by the drinks that had graced your lips, you don’t shy away, and before you know it, you’re leaning in closer, intoxicated by more than just the liquor. The bustling crowds and excessive noise surrounding you melts away as Paige grips your waist, pulling you closer into her. 

Your heart pounds at her proximity. She reaches up, cradling your jaw and stroking the soft skin of your neck with her thumb. You wonder if she can feel the thumping of your carotid, but you’re too enthralled in her presence to even care. Her eyes flit between your own and your slightly parted lips. Everything felt so fucking delicate, as if one small move would break everything. 

“Been thinkin’ about doin’ this all night,” she whispers, and pulls you into a kiss.

All the air is sucked out of you as her lips touch yours. And while you are momentarily stunned, it does not take long before yours are moving against her in a delicious exchange of passion. All worries of not being a good kisser leave your mind as Paige moans against your mouth, the sound shooting straight down your belly and to your pussy. Her tongue moves against you, and the feel of it does not help the slick now accumulating in your panties. 

The kiss eventually ends, much to your displeasure, and as you pull away, a giggle erupts from your mouth at the insanity of it all.

You had just kissed Paige Bueckers.

“OOH, P is fucking whipped!” KK shouts over the music, enthusiastically high-fiving Ice and Nika. 

Fuck, you were caught. 

But little did KK know, is that you were pretty fucking whipped, too. With one smooth move, Paige had broken down all your walls, and you were surrounded by the bricks of your carefully crafted innocence shattered around you at your feet. And maybe you could blame it on the alcohol, but you were pretty sure that if Paige made you anything less of a good girl, you were certainly okay with that. 

~

Part 3 - You get drunk off Paige, and confessions come out.

Part 4 - Paige makes you feel so good.

Part 5 - Paige shows you her strap.

Part 6 - Your newfound fascination with Paige's abs leads to some fun.

The beginning hits a little too close to home I’m so sorry I blacked out while writing it. It’s been almost 9 years since I realized I had feelings for girls, and I still struggle every day with accepting myself. To all the readers who are going through the same thing, I love you, and here’s to hoping things get better. If you ever want to reach out, my inbox is always open.

xoxo katy

[myth1cs]

Thanksgiving (Kim Minju x M!Reader)

This wasn't posted on Thanksgiving sorry! Feel free to still request things though In case you haven't figured it out this is smut. Word Count: 2,351

You were walking down the street with your best friend Minju. It was time for your Thanksgiving break and you both wanted to use that time to relax yourselves.

"Y/N it's crazy to think this is our last school year before we all go out separate ways into the real world. It feels like it was just yesterday that we started our freshman year of college."

"I know Minju. Does that mean I won't ever see you or the friend group anymore after graduation?"

"Yah! You won't be able to get rid of me Y/N! Your going to be stuck with me whether you like it or not."

You both started giggling after Minju made that comment. But you both knew deep down that you were right. You and Minju were in completely different majors. Neither of you would likely see each other again unless the friend group hosted a get together. But since you all would be busy with your own personal lives. Well ... it was very unlikely.

"Y/N do want to host a Thanksgiving celebration with the whole friend group?"

You were a bit surprised by Minju's request. Celebrating Thanksgiving wasn't something that was usually celebrated in your friend group. Since you all lived in your dorms and your family was a state away then you just never bothered. Not like Thanksgiving break was that long to begin with.

"A bit cheesy don't you think?"

"Well yeah but if this is our last year together than we should make as many sacred moments as we can before we all split up for a long while."

The idea was a bit silly to you. But something about Minju made you want to say yes. You sighed, you couldn't reject her idea now could you?

"You know what Minju? Sure why not. We could have a fun time."

Minju's eyes lit up when you agreed to her idea. She grabbed your hand and led you to the grocery store to buy food.

"Thank you Y/N! Now let's get the supplies we need. Let's make this the best Thanksgiving ever!"

Even though you felt Minju had the personality you could swear you hated and never wanted to be around. She was different to you. You just wanted to stay by her side for whatever idea she had.

As you both were shopping for ingredients you noticed how Minju was glowing. Her smile and the way she always held your shoulder for reassurance was something that made your heart beat faster.

"Y/N should we add some food from other cultures?"

"It could be fun to try."

"Well what are you thinking Y/N?"

"Let's see if we can get any Mexican food."

"Hm ... well Tamales could be nice."

You nodded and continued shopping for ingredients. Every now and then Minju would slightly push her chest onto you. It was very brief but it was enough to bother you slightly.

After all the shopping was done you both started to walk back to your apartment you shared with Minju. You opened the door and both of you went in and dropped the bags of groceries.

"Go ahead and call everyone to come here at 7. I'll start making the food."

"At 7?! Minju that means we only have a few hours to get everything ready. Its going to take a long time and that's not even including setting up the apartment!"

"Since when has that stopped you? The Y/N I know wouldn't give up before trying."

"I didn't say that! Tsk fine I'll do it." Regardless of how set you were on something if Minju wanted you to do it then you'd do it.

After making the call you started to help Minju with the cooking. You weren't the best at cooking but you still managed to find ways to help Minju.

"Y/N your making the Tamales wrong!"

"It's not my fault the tutorial is complicated!"

Minju sighed and made her way over to you. She put her hand on yours and started helping you. You were a bit surprised when she put her hands over yours.

"She's just my friend." You thought to yourself. You've always been roommates with Minju since freshman year of college. She would always be friendly towards you and was very touchy with you. Naturally you started to catch feelings but you never wanted to admit it.

-

After a few hours everything was finished. Minju was finishing setting everything up and you were finishing the decorations.

Suddenly you both heard knocking on the front door. "Come in!" Minju yelled. All of your friends started to come in your apartment.

Everyone came in and took a seat at the table. You all started eating the food that Minju made for everyone.

"Wow Minju this is really good." Sullyoon said while grabbing another plate of food.

"Hey I did some of the work to you know."

"Yeah sure Y/N. If you did anything it was handing Minju all the ingredients. We all know that if you cooked anything it would burn your apartment down."

"Guys calm down. Its Thanksgiving break let's not spend it fighting."

The rest of the afternoon went smoothly. Everyone spent it hanging out doing many activities to enjoy yourselves. From playing darts to doing a 6 player game on Jackbox you did everything a broke college student would do for fun on their break.

"It's almost midnight. It's time for the hangout to end." Minju said after finishing a game of Mario Party.

"Man it feels like we just started!" Jeong-in (I.N) said. But Minju was right it was time for everyone to leave.

When everyone left you started to help Minju with the cleaning. You washed the plates while Minju was cleaning the table.

"Did you have fun today Y/N?"

"I did Minju. Honestly it was more fun than I thought it would be originally."

"See Y/N I told you having a Thanksgiving hangout would be a good idea." You laughed at her. She was right you did enjoy yourselves and you were glad she talked you into agreeing to do it.

Once everything was cleaned you took a shower and started getting ready for bed. As you were getting dressed you heard the shower turn on. It was probably Minju taking a shower.

You got dressed and got into bed trying to go to sleep. Before you could you heard soft knocks on your door.

Getting up you made your way to the door and opened it to see Minju in a towel, she was still wet.

"What's wrong Minju?"

"Can I come in Y/N?"

A little hesitant to let Minju in your room while she still wasn't dressed you still let her in. She made her way to your bed and sat on the edge. You sat down next to her.

"Y/N I just wanted to say that you never said what you were thankful for." Suddenly you remembered what happened at the dinner table earlier.

Minju asked everyone what they were thankful for and when it came to you you didn't answer. "I don't know." is what you said.

"Well you didn't say what you were thankful for either Minju."

"If I say what I'm thankful for will you tell me what your thankful for Y/N?" Minju asked. You nodded and Minju started to scoot closer to you.

"I'm thankful for you Y/N." Minju took off her towel exposing her naked body being lit by the moonlight coming in from the window. "Thank you for being my friend Y/N." She wrapped her arms around you.

Her arms soaked your clothes. She put her lips on your neck and started to suck harshly. "Ah~ Ah~ Minju!" Unable to form words you were trapped under the magic of her lips.

Leaving marks all over your neck she continued leaving mark after mark on you. Minju went up to your ear licking your earlobe. Her tongue went all over your ear making it wet. "Y/N let me get a taste of you." She said as she started to move towards your clothed crotch.

"Wh-whats up with the sudden affection." are the only words you were able to get out of your mouth. Even though her heard your question Minju didn't answer you. She started to gently rub your clothed cock.

It was getting hard. Your cock was growing and you really wanted her to get on with it. "Please take my cock." is what you told her.

"Maybe you'll answer my question now. What are you thankful for Y/N? I won't ask again." She had a big grin on her face. Knowing exactly what you wanted. But what's the fun in "Getting to the point?"

"You Minju. I'm so thankful that you're my friend."

"Is that so Y/N? What exactly do you like about me?"

"Fuck if your going to be one of those people that fish for compliments then-"

"I was only kidding Y/N. Now pull down those pants for me."

You pulled off your pants quickly leaving your cock exposed to the cold air. Suddenly Minju pushed you down on the bed. She was over you putting her hands on both sides of your head. Now being trapped under her you could only wait.

She leaned down kissing your nose and then went down leaving trails of kisses until eventually getting to your lips. She licked your lips before putting her lips on yours. Starting off slow you both kissed each other softly.

Getting a little needy you started to go a little rougher. But you suddenly felt a light smack on your thighs. "I'm the one calling the shots not you. Don't make me repeat myself." You simply nodded to confirm that you heard her.

Minju lifted your shirt and started to draw small circles on your stomach with her finger. She laid her body on yours still slightly wet from her shower making your body wet. Pulling you closer your body was as close as could be with her.

Eventually she pulled out in order to catch her breath. "Nice job Y/N you really do know how to show your appreciation to a friend."

"Minju should we even call ourselves friends? Is this what friends do?"

"Of course Y/N. Friends show their appreciation to each other by sleeping with each other. Now show me how much you appreciate me." You didn't need to be told twice.

Grabbing her soft breasts you softly pinched one of her nipples and licked the other one. Her breasts were soft and squishy. "Mhmm Ahh Y/N go a little rougher!" of course you listened to her. Biting a little rougher and squeezing her breasts harder Minju moaned uncontrollably.

Not missing an opportunity you put your lips on hers and let her moan into your mouth. Minju now having one breast without attention she started to play with it on her own.

You were getting a little daring and were sliding your tongue into hers. Rubbing each other's tongue together both of you felt the others warmth.

Though now your cock was getting really cold. Preferably you wanted something to warm it up. "Minju it's cold down there." Pulling away she giggled at your comment.

"Want me to do something about it?" You nodded at her question.

Minju turned her body around her ass now on your face and her face was now facing your extremely cold cock.

She started to lick it. Running her tongue throughout your whole cock. But it wasn't enough to warm it and she knew it. Minju opened her mouth more and took your tip in her warm moist mouth.

Minju started to suck your tip and run her tongue all over it. You started to put your hands all over her butt and insert your tongue into her pussy. Taking in her sweet nectar as fluids slowly were coming out of her pussy. You took in every drop as soon as it flowed out.

Wanting to encourage Minju you shoved your tongue deeper making her moan louder and take in more of your cock. She was bobbing her head up and down your cock was alternating between being in her warm mouth and being in the cold air. All of it made you want to unload your semen into her.

"I'm cumming!"

Thrusting your cock as deep as possible into her mouth you let your cum spill into Minju's mouth. She tried to take in all of it but some leaked out of her mouth.

Swallowing what she could Minju licked your cock a few more times.

"Your semen tastes really good Y/N I want it in me."

Both of you got into position and you slowly entered Minju's tight pussy. "More Y/N I need your entire cock inside of me." You shoved your cock deeper into her pussy making Minju roll her eyes back. "Yes just like that. Your cock is so good." Hearing those words really turned you on and you were thrusting in and out fast.

You were still sensitive from your first orgasm and it didn't take long for you to almost cum. Not wanting to cum in her you pulled out. "In my mouth quickly Y/N."

Minju was sucking your cock as fast as possible and fingered herself at the same time. "Your so good at this keep sucking my cock!"

She came all over her fingers first and shortly after you unloaded your semen into her mouth for the second time. "I'll never have enough of this Y/N you must feed me every day."

"I don't think I can survive having amazing sex with you every day Minju."

You laid down next to Minju now exhausted. "If you want to stay as my friend Y/N you have to cum in my mouth every day from now on."

"Fine then, that's what friends are for right Minju?"

Both of you pulled each other close and drifted off to sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks to whoever asked this (I forgot) this was fun to write.

I'll try to get back on schedule.

[s4nniebe4r]

the roommate

part eleven: leftover

pairing: roommate! san x fem! reader

synopsis: at the coffee shop, you’re teased by the group, but maybe there’s a reason for it?

wc: 7.1k

tags: slight nsfw, slow burn, roommates, enemies to lovers, angst, forced proximity, eventual romance

etc: hi all! so sorry that this took forever to release, please keep in mind that i do this for fun on the side, as i am a college student that works part time! i hope this chapter compensates for missed time! and as always, this is not proofread!

previous part next part

mature content: this chapter contains a little nsfw-esc content toward the end (which is a little out of my comfort zone to write), read with care, and minors, please do not interact!

The warm air from the coffee shop is a relief after the cold outside. The buzz of conversation and the smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the space, but you can’t help the cozy feeling of meeting with your friends after so long. There's light chatter all around you that doesn’t require much effort on your part. You’re just happy to be here, surrounded by friends, even though it’s a bit crowded, it always is, there’s a lot of people crammed into this little space, but you’re used to it by now. 

San is next to you, of course he is. You don’t even think about how that’s become normal. He’s just there, sitting with his usual relaxed demeanor, sipping his coffee as he scrolls through his phone. Mingi’s across the way from him talking with Wooyoung about this ridiculous thing, that’s probably an argument about something trivial that’s been blown way out of proportion. Yunho and Jongho are laughing at something, too, whilst Yeosang is absorbed in his book, and Seonghwa is leaning back into his cushion, clearly watching the entire group interact, as Hongjoong rests his back against his side as he’s scrolling through his phone. 

You sit back in your seat, glancing at San for a moment, but it’s nothing unusual. He’s just there, as usual. A little too casual about his drink, A little too relaxed in the way he occupies space next to you. He's scrolling through his phone, but his leg Is brushed so close to yours, you can feel the heat of him through your jeans. And you don't notice it, not consciously, but your body seems to set a little more against him when you shift your weight.

Seonghwa glances at you both from across the coffee table, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. He's always been keen on picking up on the little things, the small gestures, the way people move when they're comfortable with each other, always, a little, motherly. And right now he's noticing something, Something in the way you and San are just… settled. 

He tried to ignore it, but the weight of his gaze is hard to miss. He gives you a small teasing smile as he leans and his voice light but still knowing. 

“You seem… different,” he says, his tone just shy of being a, but there's something underneath that makes you pause for a bit longer than you'd usually like to.

You blink at him, caught off guard. “What do you mean?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

Seonghwa just shrugs, leaning back into his chair, as Hongjoong finds his seat again. “You and San, you know… just different. Lately. Like dinner, the other evening.” 

San, who's been mostly focused on his phone, looks up at the mention of his name. He meets Seonghwa’s gaze briefly, then looks back down at his phone, before clicking joining in on Wooyoung and Mingi’s conversation, though his posture shifts slightly, leaning a little closer to you in the process.

“I don't know what you mean,” you say with a nervous laugh, brushing it off. You immediately grab your pastry, taking a bite to distract yourself. You feel his eyes linger, but he doesn't press, thankfully.

Seonghwa doesn’t miss a beat, though. Simply raises an eyebrow and just lets it go, turning his attention back to his own drink. 

And you know he's not going to push it further, not unless he really feels like having a bit more fun with it later. But you're not sure how to feel about it, so you let the moment pass. For now. 

Conversation does pick up again, but there's something different now, something that you can't quite place, though it's mostly in the back of your mind.It's like the air is just thick again, and yet you don't let it bother you too much.

Your focus drifts back to San, whose gaze has flicked briefly to you, only for him to talk with Mingi again. But it’s his body language shifts slightly—his leg inching only a little closer, a little too deliberate, like he’s trying to be just near enough without crossing a line. Or maybe he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. 

And maybe that’s what bothers you more. You can’t tell if this is all just a normal thing now, or if something’s changed that you don’t fully understand just yet. You sigh and try to focus on the conversation around you, but your eyes can’t help but flick to San once more.

You take a deep breath and try to ignore whatever awareness is prickling at the back of your mind. It’s like your body is in sync with San’s now, without you even realizing it. When he shifts, your attention shifts too. When he leans in to talk to Mingi, you lean forward just a little too, wanting to be part of the conversation, but a little unsure of why you're reacting like this. Your legs brush once again, and you just let it be. 

It’s when you hear a quiet voice again, this time softer, but still clear enough to cut through whatever was racing in your head. 

“Did you have something to add, Y/N?” San’s voice is low but teasing. His gaze flicking from Mingi back to you, his eyes catching yours, and you feel the heat rise in your cheeks from the unexpected attention. 

You open your mouth to respond, but the words falter before they even reach your lips, you glance down at your drink, and let the silence settle before finally mumbling out, “I don’t think so,” feeling the awkwardness creep up your spine. 

San shrugs, his attention already shifting back to Mingi as he picks up the thread of their conversation, but not before he gives you one last glance. It’s a quick moment, but you feel it. The way his eyes flick to yours and linger for just a second longer than usual. Then, as if nothing happened, he goes back to the easy flow of banter, though the tension in the air still feels thick, almost like you’re both playing a game neither of you can quite name.

You try to keep the conversation going, nodding and offering a comment here and there, but your mind is still on that brief interaction. Seonghwa catches your eye from across the table, and you quickly look away, embarrassed, but it doesn’t stop the small, knowing smile that curls up at the edges of his lips.

You swear, it’s like he’s always lurking. 

It’s not until the conversation shifts again, this time around something entirely ridiculous, that you feel the tension start to ease just a bit. You let out a small breath and adjust in your seat, trying to ignore how close San is, how his leg brushes yours again as he shifts, settling in beside you. It feels natural, but for some reason, it doesn't make it any easier to just let go.

The conversation around you carries on, everyone chattering like the waves. Seonghwa is still half-watching you and San, but his attention is now split between the group and whatever thoughts are running through his head. You can’t help but feel the weight of his gaze every now and then, as if he’s waiting for something, for you and San to slip up, maybe. 

Mingi’s still going off about his topic, and the others are laughing alongside him, but you can’t help but feel slightly disconnected from it. Your attention keeps wandering back to San, who’s still engaged in his conversation with Mingi. He’s relaxed again, leaning back into the couch, legs stretched out, but there’s something in the way that his body is angled toward you, there’s a shift in his posture that feels a little too deliberate. His legs brushing against yours again, and you can’t ignore how loud it feels, like he’s settled into your space and doesn’t plan to move. 

You’re barely paying attention to the conversation when your leftover pastry sits between you and San, partially eaten. You glance at it for a second, then at San, and without thinking, you push the small plate closer to him on the coffee table. You don’t even ask, it’s just become an unspoken thing. He picks it up without a word and finishes it off in a few bites, you’ve had your fair share. 

It’s something so small, so familiar, that it doesn't register until you hear a small giggle from across the way. Hongjoong, who’s been half-listening, raises an eyebrow. “Well, that’s… something,” he comments, his tone light but laced with amusement that makes your face heat up. 

You glance over quickly, your fingers curled around your drink. “What?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but the way everyone’s looking at you makes it impossible to ignore the sudden shift in the air.

Seonghwa leans back, eyeing the two of you with an almost amused expression. “You two are... getting cozy,” he observes, a teasing tone in his voice. “The other evening, and now...”

You shoot him a side glance, feeling heat rise to your face. You knew it wasn’t anything new between the two of you, but now it feels… well, noticed.

Jongho only grins and nudges Wooyoung. “It’s like you two have your own little routine going on here.” He points toward the plate, his grin only widening. “She gives him the leftovers, and he’s all too happy to eat them up. You know, like a couple, or something.”

The comments leave a pang in your chest, but you laugh it off, trying to hide the sudden flush growing on your cheeks. “I wasn’t hungry,” you mutter, hoping it’ll end the conversation.

But, of course, it doesn’t. 

Mingi, who’s been listening with a wolfish grin plastered on his face, chimes in. “Honestly, I’m just waiting for her to hand feed him the next treat, and I’ll really be convinced you’re dating in secret.” His voice is so light, so teasing, but it feels like there’s an underlying tone that makes you feel like everyone is starting to notice the unspoken things between you and San. 

Yeosang gives you a small smile, but he doesn’t join in on the teasing. Instead, he leans back in his seat, looking between you and San. “You two haven’t always been so comfortable around each other, have you?” he asks, the question was casual, but laced with curiosity. 

You try to smile it off, but something tightens in your chest. You glance at San, who seems completely unfazed by all the extra attention. He just shrugs, looking down at his coffee, as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. But you can’t shake the feeling that everyone;s watching you two a little too closely. 

Hongjoong leans over Seonghwa, putting his drink down and giving you both an exaggerated look of disbelief. “Seriously, though,” he says with an extra chuckle, “If you two aren’t secretly dating, you’re about to be. It’s written all over you.”

You groan inwardly, trying not to blush more. “We’re just roommates,” you say quickly, forcing a laugh that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Nothing more.”

San just nods in agreement, though he says nothing else. His quiet confidence in the way he responds only makes the whole thing feel more like a dance you’ve been doing. 

Jongho, not wanting to let it go, turns to you both with a little smirk. “Right, right. Just roommates,” he says sarcastically. “Then why does it feel like we’re missing something? Seonghwa, you said what, about a dinner?”

You roll your eyes, but the question still lingers, and you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, they’re right. “Can we just drop it already?” you intervene, trying to steer the conversation literally anywhere else. 

But the group isn’t ready to let it go. Wooyoung, always ready to stir the drama, leans forward to the coffee table with a wink. “You know, I’ll put twenty dollars down that you two are dating in secret.” 

You stare at him for a beat before breaking into a nervous laugh. “It’s not like that,” you say, but it comes out more unsure than you’d like.

“Oh? Then what’s it like?” he continues.

“You guys are impossible,” you say with a sigh, shaking your head. “Can we just enjoy the drinks, please?”

Everyone laughs, but you’re still stuck in the back of your mind, wondering if they see something you don’t. The conversation carries on, but you find yourself glancing over at San again, catching his eye for a moment. His gaze lingers just a little longer than necessary, but he doesn’t say anything.

The group’s chatter slowly dies down as the night wears on. The boys start gathering their things, grabbing jackets and bags, preparing to leave the coffee shop. The table starts to feel emptier as everyone stands around and stretches as the conversation begins to dissipate into the background. 

You stand up and give a small stretch, feeling the weight of the evening’s conversations linger in the air. There’s a small tension in your shoulders, but it's nothing you can't shake off. The sound of chairs scraping against the floor and footsteps heading toward the door fills the room, and you take a moment to grab your jacket, preparing to leave too.

Seonghwa, who’s been moving slowly per usual, notices you standing near the door. He smiles, his expression soft. You meet his gaze and can’t help but return the smile, he always brought you some sort of comfort. 

“Alright,” he says with a gentle nod, walking toward you. He extends his arms out, “It’s been good eating out again,” he adds, his voice warm. 

You wrap your arms around him briefly, feeling the weight of the hug more than you expected. It’s a comforting gesture, the kind that makes you feel like everything is okay, even when you don’t know exactly what’s been building up inside of you. “I missed it, even with you looking too far into this roommate thing,” you say quietly, pulling back just a little as you both step away from each other. “Thanks for coming out, Hwa.”

“Anytime,” he says, eyes glinting mischievously for a moment. “Take care of yourself.” And with that, he gives you a quick squeeze on the shoulder before turning toward the rest of the group.

You watch him walk off to join the others by the door, your thoughts trailing behind him. The door clicks open, and you hear the sound of voices echoing out into the cool night. You breathe in deeply, looking around the nearly empty shop, the weight of the evening’s atmosphere settling around you.

San, who’s been standing off to the side, catches your eye. He’s already slipping on his jacket, moving with that familiar lazy ease. He looks over at you, but instead of speaking, he just nods with a soft smile. The others have already filtered out by the time you make your way to the door, and soon it’s just the two of you left. The air outside is colder, but not enough to make you shiver. You slip your hands into your pockets, glancing over at San, but neither of you says anything immediately. The night feels too good for words, and somehow, that silence is more comfortable than you expect.

You fall into step next to him as the two of you start walking down the sidewalk, the soft scrape of your shoes against the pavement the only sound filling the quiet.

It’s strange, this silence. You’ve walked with him like this before, but tonight feels different somehow. You don’t feel the need to break it, don’t feel the weight of tension or the pressure to fill every moment with something. It’s just the two of you, walking side by side, the city lights flickering in the distance. San doesn’t seem to mind the quiet either. He keeps his hands in his pockets, his strides are long and relaxed, but his attention is more on the path ahead of him than on anything else. 

As you walk, your eyes flicker up to him again. He’s not looking at you, but there’s something in the way he moves—like he’s waiting for something, or maybe it’s you who’s waiting. Your thoughts drift, but you don't address anything, you can’t. You’re not even sure you want to. Instead, you focus on the quiet hum of the evening, the soft rustle of trees as the wind pushes through them. Every now and then, your steps fall just a little too close, and you end up brushing against his arm. Neither of you pulls away. It’s just how it is.

The walk feels long enough for you to notice the subtle shift between the two of you but not quite long enough to really understand it. Still, when you get to the apartment building, you don’t say anything about it. There’s nothing to say, not yet.

San steps ahead of you and opens the door, holding it for you without a word. You nod in thanks, walking inside, the warmth of the apartment greeting you. You slip off your shoes, but there’s still no conversation, no need for one. It’s just the two of you again. 

The apartment feels quieter than before, the light from the lamps casting long shadows on the walls as you walk in with San. The evening’s winding down, but you’re not quite ready for it to end yet. The night’s been easy, comfortable, and you find yourself not wanting to break the rhythm.

San glances over at you as he kicks off his shoes by the door, a small smile on his face. “You want to finish the movie we started earlier?” His voice is casual, but there’s a hint of warmth there, like he’s offering you something simple, familiar.

You nod, pulling off your jacket and hanging it on the coat rack, the weight of the evening settling over you. “Yeah, just give me a second to change,” you reply, and San watches you for a moment before nodding and walking toward the kitchen.

You head to your room, your fingers tapping absentmindedly on your phone as you text Yeosang. You’re not sure what compels you to, but you want to catch up with him sometime soon, just the two of you, maybe debrief about San, afte rall, he’s the only one who doesn’t seem to enjoy teasing you about it.  

You finish typing out the message, put your phone down, and change into your comfiest clothes. The familiar stretch of your sweats, the softness of your hoodie, his hoodie, really. It’s a piece of his closet that you ‘borrowed’ from him a few laundry days ago and never returned. It’s warm and soft, and you feel a bit silly for not giving it back sooner, but it smells like him, and there’s something comforting about that.

When you step back into the living room, you see San standing by the kitchen counter, a mug in his hand as he moves about, carefully preparing something. His back is to you, but you watch for a second as he works, the quiet concentration in his movements. You can hear the faint click of the kettle as he fills it, the soft hiss of steam rising from it.

“What flavor are you brewing?” 

San glances over his shoulder, looking up at you with a small smile. “Maybe ginseng or something. Whatever sounds good,” he says, the nonchalance of his tone making it sound effortless.

You give a small nod in acknowledgment, but your attention shifts to the pantry as your eyes land on the binch biscuits you know he loves. You grab the box, a small grin forming on your face. You walk toward the couch, settling down with the biscuits in your lap, just waiting for San to finish up.

He finishes the tea and heads toward the living room with your tea and his water in hand, and you follow suit, grabbing a box of binch biscuits from the pantry on your way. The simple gesture of grabbing a snack for the two of you feels easy, like it’s something you’ve done a hundred times before, even though you’ve never actually done it this way. You sit down on the couch first, placing the biscuits in your lap. When San joins you, he pulls the blanket around both of you, settling in next to you with a soft exhale. You scoot closer to him, feeling his warmth through the blanket, and without really thinking, you lean against him, letting your head rest on his shoulder. It feels right. Familiar.

San looks at you for a second, a glimmer of something in his eyes, before he sets down his cup and slides a little deeper into the blanket. “Wait a second,” he says, eyes narrowing at you. “I finally found where my hoodie went.”

You blink, confused for a moment, but when you look down at yourself, you realize you’re wearing the hoodie he gave you a while ago. “Oh, this? I guess it’s mine now,” you joke, your voice a little unsure.

San grins, shaking his head as he gently tugs at the sleeve of the hoodie. “I didn’t say you could keep it.”

You feel your heart skip a beat when he tugs you closer with the fabric, just enough to make you lean into him. His move feels so natural, and before you know it, you’re nestled against his side, the two of you getting comfortable under the blanket. His arm slides around your waist, pulling you just a little bit closer. You didn’t do anything to get away. If anything, you let yourself melt into him more, your body fitting into his like it’s always been this way. You let out a small sigh, finally relaxing into the warmth of the moment. 

The movie continues to play, but now it’s just background noise. Your thoughts are more focused on the way San’s arm is wrapped around you, how his hand rests lightly on your waist, his fingers brushing against your side. You can feel his heartbeat beneath the fabric of his hoodie, and it’s oddly comforting.

San leans in slightly, his lips near your ear. “You know, you're my favorite roommate,” he says in a teasing, lighthearted tone.

The way he says it is enough to make your heart pulse just a little quicker, but you don’t think too much of it. You’re still trying to adjust to the fact that everything between you and him feels a little different. Like something changed, but neither of you has said anything about it yet. 

You reach for the binch biscuits, your fingers brushing lightly against his hand as you grab one, then hold it up to him. “Want one?” you offer.

He doesn’t hesitate. “Of course,” he says with a grin of his own, leaning forward slightly to take the biscuit from you.

But this time, you raise the biscuit to his mouth, but he hesitates for just a second, a small flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. You feel a little awkward, unsure if he’s hesitating because it’s strange or because of something else. Before you can figure it out, you mutter quietly, “Sorry,” and start to bring the biscuit down to his hand.

But before you can move it away, San leans in and bites the biscuit straight from your hand, his lips brushing against your fingers as he does. The soft touch makes your pulse quicken even more. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he says with a warm smile, his voice low and reassuring. “I got my biscuit.”

It only makes you smile to yourself as you adjust back to face the screen. 

You both settle back down, the blanket now draped comfortably over your bodies, and the movie continues to play. The soft sound of the characters on-screen is barely a distraction as you settle even closer to San. You feel his arm tighten slightly around your waist, pulling you in just a little bit more.

The movie’s been playing quietly in the background, but you and San are barely paying attention. The warmth of the blanket, the soft glow of the TV, and the closeness of him beside you all seem to have your focus. You're still nestled comfortably against him, the rhythm of his breathing steady and calming as the movie continues, though your mind is more focused on the way he’s holding you.

But then, suddenly, there's a loud, jarring sound of something on screen ripping through the air, blasting out of the speakers that catches you both off guard. It’s a sound that seems designed to startle, and it works. 

San jumps, a sharp, instinctive reaction that’s so sudden it makes you flinch, your own heart leaping in your chest. Before you can even process it, his arms wrap around you, pulling you so tightly into his chest that you feel a brief, almost painful pressure against your ribs. You gasp slightly, your breath catching at the intensity, but it’s not a painful kind of tightness—it’s more like a reaction, his body tensing up and seeking comfort at the same time.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his voice muffled, but you can feel his breath warm against your ear. The way his body shakes just in the slightest makes your heart ache a little. 

You reach down, your fingers brushing his hand instinctively, and squeeze it gently, as if offering him the same comfort he’s giving you. His grip doesn’t loosen, though. If anything, he holds onto you a little tighter, his arms wrapping further around you. 

You swallow, trying to calm the nervous flutter in your chest, and let your hand slide slowly from his hand, up to his forearm. His muscles are tense, but you trace soft, slow lines up and down his arm, trying to calm him just a little to give you some leeway to breath. He shudders slightly beside you, his breath still shaky, and you softly coo at him, the sound almost instinctive.

“You’re alright,” you whisper gently, your voice just about a murmur, really it was meant for the both of you. “It’s just a movie, Sannie. Nothing to be scared of.” You’re not really sure where the name came from, but you hope it wasn’t too out of the ordinary. 

You feel him nod slightly against you, though his grip remains tight around your waist, like he’s still unsure if he’s safe. But you can feel him trying to settle, to push past the fear. “I know, I know,” he breathes out. “I’m fine.”

But the tension in his body doesn’t quite dissipate. You notice the way his muscles stay tight, the way his arm remains wrapped around you protectively, even though the immediate scare is over.

“Hey,” you whisper, your fingers tracing gentle lines over his arm, as you move yourself to face him more clearly, angling your legs to him. Your fingers slowly wander up the soft fabric of his hoodie, moving to his shoulder, your touch lingering there for just a second. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

He exhales shakily, but doesn’t pull away from you. You notice how he shifts just the slightest, his legs adjusting underneath the blanket, moving slightly closer to you. Your heart beats a little more as his body naturally gravitates toward yours, his need for closeness mirroring yours.

But then, a second loud, abrupt noise comes from the movie, a sound that’s too sudden, too harsh, and it catches San off guard again.

He tenses completely this time, his hands gripping you so tightly you wince slightly from the pressure. Without any sort of thought it seems, he pulls you completely into his chest, practically lifting you off the couch as he pulls you. You’re almost out of breath from the force of his arms around you, but the warmth of his body is undeniable, and it feels so instinctive, so natural.

This time, though, San doesn’t just hold you to his chest. He shifts under the blanket, his movements sudden as he wraps one arm fully around your waist. Before you can blink, he’s pulling you up on his lap, and you gasp slightly, not fully expecting it. You settle awkwardly for a second, your legs finding their place on either side of his. His hands are still gripping you gently, but firmly, as if he needs the reassurance.

“San?” you whisper, your heart pounding through your throat. You knew he was nervous from the movie, but you hadn’t ever expected him to react this way, to pull you so close, to have you quite literally sitting on his lap like this, straddled onto him. You try to keep your voice light, not wanting to make it awkward, but your voice comes out in a small, shaky exhale. 

“Yeah, I know,” he murmurs, his voice quieter, as if he’s trying to make some sort of light out of the situation. His hand on your waist shifts, his fingers loosening a little, but his thumbs digging into you from the nerves. “This feels… better,” he adds, his voice dropping off slightly, like he’s unsure of how to say it without making things weird. 

You glance down, and your breath catches for a moment when you realize you’re fully and completely on his lap, your body leaning slightly into his chest. It’s a bit awkward of course, but you can’t deny that there’s some sort of comfort in the closeness. 

You both settle into the moment, trying to find some semblance of normality as the movie continues to play in the background, even though the tension between you two could be cut with a knife. You try not to overthink it, to ignore the way your heart beats faster every time his hand shifts slightly, every time his warmth surrounds you completely.

Without thinking, you lean into him, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. The movie is forgotten. Anything outside the couch is irrelevant. You let your fingers trail lightly over his arm, tracing the muscles that tense beneath his hoodie. He’s solid, and the comfort of him, mixed with the rawness of the situation, makes you feel like you could drown in him.

The movie continues to play, but the sound is distant now. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is the way he’s looking at you, his gaze locked onto yours, eyes dark with something you can’t quite name, but it pulls at you in a way that makes your stomach twist. The way he’s holding you, the way his chest rises and falls with his breath, it all feels too much and yet not enough.

You shift, feeling the shift of your body against his, and you just can’t deny the heat growing between you. His hand moves up, cupping your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your jaw with an almost reverent touch. You catch your breath at the feeling, your body responding to the soft, careful way he touches you.

“Are you okay?” His voice is barely a whisper, his lips brushing against your ear as he pulls you even closer. You don’t trust your voice to answer anymore, but the only thing you can do is nod, a small sound escaping your lips as you lean into him, your body reacting to the closeness. The heat between you is building, and it feels like a slow burn that’s about to catch fire. 

Before you can think, your lips are on his. Soft, hesitant at first, but then a little more urgent, more desperate. His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you into him, deepening it all. You lose yourself in the feel of him, the taste of him, the heat that just seems to radiate from his skin. His hands are everywhere now, one still cupping your cheek, the other sliding down to your waist, pulling you even closer, somehow. 

He breaks the kiss for just a second, pulling back slightly, eyes darkened from the situation. “Are you sure?” The question is quiet, and heavy with meaning. You know exactly what he’s asking, but you can’t bring yourself to answer with words. You don’t need to. Your body gives the answer for you.

So, you pull him back to you, your lips crashing against his once again, harder this time, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. He groans softly into your mouth, and you can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s trying to hold back, but it’s too much. You’re both just a little too far gone now.

He moves, his body shifting beneath you, and it’s fully coming to your attention that you’re straddling him with your legs on either side of him, your body pressed so close that you can feel every bit of him. His hands grip your hips, pulling you down against him, and you can feel the way his body reacts to yours, hard and warm beneath you.

Everything feels deeper now, frantic, his hands just moving around you, pulling at you, but it’s not desperate, it’s just instinctual. Everything is happening just a little fast, but it feels like it’s been building for ages now. You should stop, but you really don’t want to. 

But then he pulls back, his breath ragged as he looks at you, and for a moment, you both just pause. His hands rest on your hips, and his gaze shifts between your eyes and your lips, the weight of the moment settling in. Neither of you speaks. The silence is thick, heavy with everything unsaid.

Finally, he whispers, his voice a little hoarse, “We should slow down.”

But you don’t pull away. Neither of you do.

The silence between you two feels electric now, the weight of it heavier than anything either of you have said. He’s still breathing hard, his chest rising and falling beneath you, and you feel the heat radiating off of him, pulling you back to him. Before you can even think about what’s happening, his lips are on yours again, somehow even more urgent this time, a little messier, a little desperate. It’s not gentle anymore, not soft like before.

His hands are on you again, one moving from your hips to your back, pulling you flush against him. The pressure of his body beneath yours is so intoxicating you just can’t think, you just let yourself feel. You feel the roughness of his lips as he kisses you deeper, more fervently, his breath mixing with your, and you can’t help yourself from responding with the same intensity. 

At some point, his mouth leaves yours and begins to trail down your jaw, down your neck, and you gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair. The sensation is overwhelming, and you tilt your head back instinctively, giving him more room, more access. His lips are warm, almost unbearably so, and the way his teeth graze lightly against your skin makes you shiver, a soft moan escaping you before you can stop it.You can’t focus on anything but him, the feel of his mouth on your skin, the way he’s moving against you. You let your hands slide through his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands, tugging him closer as he kisses his way back up your neck. His lips are still sloppy, still hungry, but they’re soft, too, deliberate, as though he’s trying to savor every moment, every inch of you.

He murmurs your name, low and breathless, and you can feel the way his voice vibrates through you, sending a shiver down your spine. His hand moves from your back to your waist, sliding down, his fingers pressing into the soft fabric of your hoodie, tugging it just slightly to pull you even closer, like he can’t get enough. You feel the heat of him against your chest, the rapid beating of his heart matching the pounding in your own.

You pull him back up to kiss him again, deeper this time, no hesitation, just pure need. His hands are everywhere now, one hand cradling your neck, the other slipping down your side, tracing the curve of your body. You let out a breathless laugh, but it’s interrupted by the way his thumb brushes along your lower lip, his eyes flicking between your eyes and your mouth, waiting for something, though you’re not sure what.

But, before you can ask, he leans in again. You feel the tension in him, the way he holds himself back, but you’re too caught up in the moment, too lost in how right it feels to be close to him like this. You kiss him just a little harder, one hand finding its way to his chest, feeling the way he shifts beneath his shirt. 

You break away for a moment, gasping for air, and your forehead rests against his. You can’t tell if you’re shaking or if it’s him, but the intensity of the moment doesn’t let up. His lips find your neck again, trailing down your pulse, and you shudder under the touch, eyes closing, completely lost in the sensation. You can’t think, can’t focus on anything but him, and the way he’s making you feel. His hands slide underneath your hoodie, warm against your skin, and you stiffen slightly at the touch, but it’s not unwelcome. Far from it. You lean into it, leaning into him, and you can feel his breath against your neck, his lips trailing lower, brushing against your collarbone. The sensation makes your body tingle, a heat spreading through you, and before you can stop yourself, you move, pressing yourself even closer to him.

San groans, low and throaty, his hands moving to your back, pulling you up slightly. His hands slide down your sides, grasping at you, like he’s trying to hold onto you as if you’ll just slip away.

You pause, just for a moment, lips hovering over his, and his breath is coming in short bursts. You can hear his heart beating erratically in his chest, and you feel your pulse quicken in response. You’re both so close now, your body pressed against his, tangled in each other. Neither of you is willing to pull away, there’s really no need to. 

Your hands find their way to his hair again, tugging him back for one last kiss. He groans softly against your lips, the sound vibrating through you as his hands tighten. 

When you finally pull away, breathless and flushed, you’re still in his arms, still tangled in the heat of him. The room is quiet, save for the sound of your breathing. 

You both pause for a moment, breathing heavily, and for a second, it feels like the world has stopped spinning around you. The heat still lingers between you two, like it’s impossible to shake off. His forehead rests gently against yours, and you’re both gasping for air, the weight of the moment settling over you, quieting the chaos in your chest.

San’s hands are still on you, and the feel of them sends little shivers down your spine. He shifts slightly, his fingers slipping from your back under your hoodie to gently trace the bare skin of your waist, his touch soft, lingering. It’s not the urgency of before, not the desperate rush, it’s slower now, softer. He moves, just enough to pull his hand away, and you’re about to ask what he’s doing when he reaches up to click the remote. The sound of the television turning off is a sharp contrast to the stillness in the room. His hand lingers at the remote, but his other hand stays with you, resting just above your waist, fingertips grazing the skin where the hem of your hoodie ends.

He doesn’t let go. 

You feel his breath warm against your neck as he shifts again, making space between you two on the couch. It’s like a natural transition, one that neither of you is fully ready to make. But he moves you closer, pulling you with him, his arms wrapping around you as he adjusts the blanket around the two of you. There’s no rush, no reason to hurry. He lets you get comfortable, his hand slipping beneath your sweatshirt again, resting on the small of your back, just barely pressing into you.

The silence feels different. It’s more intimate this time. You feel his breath against your neck again, warm and slow, you find yourself breathing in time with him. Your chest rising and falling in sync with his, like you’re both catching your breath, not from whatever the two of you indulged in, but maybe something else entirely.

His fingers stroke your skin lightly as you both settle more comfortably on the couch. He pulls you closer, pulling the blanket up over you both until the cool air is shut out, leaving only the warmth between the two of you. His arm is still around you, his fingers pressing into your side, holding you close, but gentle, like he doesn’t want to let go, like he can’t.

You shift, rolling onto your side slightly, letting your back press against his chest. You feel his hand move from your waist to your hip, his thumb brushing slowly over the soft skin there. You shift again, and he tugs you closer, his face just behind your ear, his breath still warm against your neck. You let your fingers find his hand, and he holds onto yours without any hesitation, his thumb drawing gentle circles against your knuckles. It's comforting, soothing. 

For a moment, you both just lay there, the faint sound of your breathing and the soft brush of his lips against your neck the only things that fill the space. His arm tightens slightly around you, and you shift again, pressing into him just a little more. His warmth envelops you, and you can feel him smile against your neck, the slight movement of his lips brushing against the nape of it sending a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes close finally, and you let sleep begin to take over, the soft rhythm of your breaths lulling you away. 

taglist

@kryscent @randajjjad @yutapeaxh @barbielibra @sheadoreswalls @candied-czennie @decaffeinatedpandabread @sannieworshipper @pirateprincessblog @zeeader @frecklyfelix @serotoninbarbz @choisandilf @nimzajsstuff @passerbyforfun @metzzz99csan @santineez @blue5ummer

(please lmk if you’ve been missed out or i’ve entered your user wrong!)

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Let's be Frank, so we can makeout

Pairing: Dr. Frank Langdon x Sr.Resident!Reader

Author's note: I'm trying something new with formatting. I can't decide yet if Frank is hot, so they're on and off in this fic. It's LONG AF.

INT. ON-CALL ROOM – NIGHT

The clock ticks past midnight. The overhead light is off, just the warm glow of a desk lamp humming in the corner. Scrubs tossed over the back of a chair. The room smells faintly of antiseptic and coffee gone cold.

FRANK LANGDON sits on the edge of the cot, running a hand through his hair, jaw clenched. You stand across from him, arms folded, leaning against the wall like it’s the only thing keeping you upright.

YOU (quiet, sharp) You always do this.

FRANK Do what?

YOU Pretend like it’s fine until you decide it’s not. Until you shut down and I’m left trying to figure out which version of you I’m waking up next to.

Frank lets out a tired laugh, more bitter than amused.

FRANK Right. Because you’re so emotionally available. You love to play the victim when things get messy.

YOU I’m not playing anything, Frank. I’m tired. Tired of being some in-between thing for you. One second we’re all in, the next you’re pushing me away like I’m the reason you’re miserable here.

FRANK Don’t make this about the hospital.

YOU Everything’s about the hospital with you. Who gets the best case, who’s on Langdon’s level, who’s chasing chief— (beat) I’m not your competition, Frank. But you treat me like I am.

Silence. Frank stands slowly, the space between you suddenly too small, too loud.

FRANK Maybe we’re just bad at this.

YOU No. We’re just too stubborn to admit we want different things.

He nods, barely, like it costs him something. You look at each other—years of tension, passion, and what-ifs sitting in the air between you.

FRANK You staying here tonight?

YOU No. Not tonight.

You grab your bag, your scrubs sleeve brushing his arm as you walk past. He doesn’t stop you. The door clicks shut behind you.

INT. PITTSBURGH MED – TRAUMA BAY – MORNING

The hospital hums with that chaotic early-shift energy—coffee in hand, eyes half-awake, pages already going off. FRANK stands on one side of the group, jaw tight, scrubs freshly pressed. You’re on the opposite side, lips set in a neutral line, trying to look like you slept.

DR. ROBBY, smug as ever with a clipboard in hand, steps into the center of the bay with a grin.

DR. ROBBY Alright, folks, welcome to the pitt. These are your senior residents—Dr. Langdon and Dr. [Y/L/N]. Learn from them, don’t flirt with them, and for the love of God, don’t interrupt them during a trauma unless you’ve got someone actively bleeding out.

A ripple of nervous laughter from the med students.

You glance toward Frank. He’s already looking at you, but it’s that unreadable, guarded look he gives patients before telling them bad news.

DR. ROBBY (CONT’D) We’ve got two second year residents and three med students. You’ll be shadowing on rotations, and if you’re lucky, Langdon might even remember your names by the end of the week.

FRANK Don’t count on it.

The students laugh again, and Robby raises an eyebrow like he’s clocking the tension between the two of you—but he doesn’t say anything.

He hands off the list and claps his hands together.

DR. ROBBY Alright. Let’s make some memories. Or at least don’t kill anyone before lunch.

The group starts to disperse. You turn to grab a chart when one of the second-year residents, a perky-looking girl with a glasses, stops you.

DR. KING Dr. [Your Last Name], sorry—just wanted to say I’m really excited to learn from you. Everyone says you and Dr. Langdon are like, the trauma dream team.

Your jaw tightens. You manage a smile.

YOU We get the job done.

Frank brushes past behind you, just close enough for his arm to skim yours again. You don’t turn around, but your whole body goes stiff.

He pauses only long enough to say—

FRANK You taking the first trauma, or should I?

YOU I’ll take it.

He nods and walks off, already barking orders at a med student. You stay where you are for a second too long, the buzz of the hospital around you not quite loud enough to drown out the tension still hanging in the air.

INT. PITTSBURGH MED – TRAUMA BAY – LATER THAT MORNING

EMS BURSTS THROUGH THE DOORS with a patient on a stretcher—mid-30s male, multiple GSWs to the abdomen and chest, semi-conscious. The place snaps into action.

EMT GSW, multiple entries. No exit wounds. BP’s dropping—he started crashing in the rig.

You and Frank are already gloving up. You reach the patient first, pressing your hands to a bleeding wound.

YOU I need two units of O-neg, chest tray prepped, and someone call the OR—now!

Frank moves to the head of the bed, cutting the shirt off fast.

FRANK He's got diminished breath sounds on the right. We need a chest tube, stat.

YOU Then do it.

FRANK Don’t tell me what to do—I am doing it.

You glare at him, and for a split second, the trauma fades and it’s just you two again—charged, combative, dangerously synced.

You shove a tray toward him harder than necessary. He grabs it without missing a beat, intentionally brushing past your side—shoulder colliding with yours.

YOU You’re in my space.

FRANK Then move faster.

You don’t—if anything, you step closer. It’s tight quarters, the trauma team dancing around you two, pretending not to notice.

You press gauze into a deep abdominal wound, blood coating your gloves up to the wrists.

YOU You missed that bleeder. He’s tanking.

FRANK I see it. Clamp.

You both reach for the same clamp and your hands collide. You don’t let go. He doesn’t either.

YOU Get out of the way.

FRANK You get out of the way.

A beat. You’re inches from his face. Breathing hard. Covered in blood and too close.

DR. ROBBY (O.S.) Hey! Are we saving this guy or circling the drain on your personal lives?

You snap apart.

Frank shoves the clamp into your hand. You dive back in. The moment’s gone—but not forgotten.

INT. PITTSBURGH MED – HALLWAY OUTSIDE TRAUMA BAY – CONTINUOUS

The patient’s been stabilized and wheeled off to the OR. The trauma bay buzz has dimmed, but you’re still riding the high—adrenaline in your veins, blood still drying on your gloves.

You rip your mask down as you walk out, Frank a few paces ahead. You catch up, your tone sharp but not loud.

YOU What is up with you today? You’re so irritable.

Frank doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t even look at you.

FRANK We just saved a guy with three holes in his chest. Forgive me for not being chipper.

YOU No—this started before that. You’ve been acting like I personally offended your entire bloodline since morning rounds.

He stops walking. Turns slowly, eyes narrowed.

FRANK You wanna do this here? Right now?

YOU I’d rather not do it at all, but you keep shoving into me like I’m in your way. I’m not one of your med students, Frank. Don’t take your ego out on me.

He steps in, voice low but intense.

FRANK You're the one who turned last night into a war zone and then strutted in here like nothing happened.

YOU Because I have to. Because we don’t get to take personal days just because our situationship’s in the ICU.

FRANK Right. Forgot how easy it is for you to compartmentalize.

YOU Don’t act like you’re the only one bleeding in this.

The tension simmers between you—burning-hot silence in the sterile hallway. A nurse walks by and shoots you both a look before disappearing around the corner.

Frank exhales sharply, scrubs ruffled from the case, jaw ticking.

FRANK We need to get our shit together.

YOU You think?

He takes a step back. Less hostile now, but the walls are back up.

FRANK I’ll take the next trauma. You need air.

He walks off without waiting for a reply. You watch him go, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something else you’ll regret.

EXT. PITTSBURGH MED – LOADING DOCK AREA – LATE AFTERNOON

The sun’s starting to dip behind the buildings, casting long shadows across the pavement. You lean against the wall in your wrinkled scrubs, a cigarette between your fingers. You don't even smoke that often—but today? Today demands it.

You take a long drag, exhale like it might clear your head.

The door creaks open behind you. You don’t turn around—you already know who it is.

DR. ROBBY (O.S.) You know, for someone who acts like she has it all under control, you really suck at hiding your meltdowns.

You glance sideways. Robby walks up slowly, holding a to-go cup from the cafeteria, sipping it like it’s anything better than sludge.

YOU It’s one cigarette. Don’t tell Langdon, he’ll think he got to me.

DR. ROBBY Pretty sure the entire trauma bay knows he got to you.

You shoot him a look, but it’s half-hearted. Robby leans on the wall beside you, not asking permission.

DR. ROBBY (CONT’D) You two gonna keep throwing surgical trays at each other until someone loses a hand? Or you planning on actually talking to him?

YOU We talked. Last night. And this morning. And mid-trauma. (beat) We just don’t know how to stop breaking each other.

Robby takes a sip. Nods slowly.

DR. ROBBY Yeah, well, you’re both too damn stubborn to walk away and too obsessed with each other to quit. Classic senior resident mess. Happens every year.

YOU We’re not some cliché.

DR. ROBBY Sure you’re not.

He’s quiet for a moment, then glances at you, more serious now.

DR. ROBBY (CONT’D) You’re a good doctor. But if you let whatever this is spill over into the job? You’ll tank both your reputations faster than you can say “co-chief.”

You flinch, just barely.

YOU He’s gunning for it too.

DR. ROBBY I know. That’s the problem. You’re both excellent. And chaotic. It’s kind of entertaining, but also a nightmare for everyone else.

You put the cigarette out with the heel of your shoe and cross your arms, eyes on the sky.

YOU What would you do?

DR. ROBBY You really want advice from the guy who’s been divorced twice and lives off vending machine pretzels?

You smile for the first time all day.

YOU I’ll take what I can get.

Robby finishes his coffee, tosses the empty cup in the nearby bin.

DR. ROBBY Talk to him. Not in a trauma bay. Not in the stairwell. Talk like you don’t want to win for once.

He walks back inside, leaving the door open behind him. You linger in the quiet, letting the words settle, and finally—finally—you breathe.

INT. PITTSBURGH MED – TRAUMA BAY – EARLY EVENING

Another call. Another rush. A construction worker, mid-40s, fell from scaffolding. Suspected pelvic fracture, possible internal bleeding. The trauma bay is alive again—gloves snapping, vitals shouting, the whole rhythm kicking into gear.

You’re already moving with purpose, snapping into leadership like muscle memory.

YOU Let’s go—two large bores, draw labs, get a pan scan ready. I want blood hanging before imaging. Who’s with me?

One of the new interns—Whitaker, nervous but eager—steps up.

WHITAKER I—I can insert the second line.

You glance at him, firm but not cruel.

YOU You only get one try. Don’t fish.

WHITAKER Yes, Dr. [Y/L/N].

You catch Frank watching from across the gurney, lips tight but unreadable. He doesn’t say anything—he lets you lead. He lets you.

You work in tandem: you’re at the abdomen, Frank at the airway, both moving like you’ve done this a thousand times. Because you have. Even when you’re not speaking, your instincts match.

FRANK He’s stable enough to move. We’ve got time for CT.

YOU Let’s go. Everyone move with a purpose.

The med students shuffle out, wide-eyed and exhilarated. The gurney rolls off toward imaging, and the trauma bay finally quiets.

You turn, wipe your bloodied gloves on a towel, and glance at Frank. He’s not looking at you—he’s checking vitals on the monitor. So you step closer.

YOU Hey.

He looks up.

YOU (CONT’D) Can we talk? After shift?

Frank searches your face for a beat. He doesn’t deflect. Doesn’t smirk. Just nods.

FRANK Yeah. Okay.

You nod back. That’s it. No flare. No dig. Just a quiet truce.

Then you turn and walk out of the bay, head high, ignoring the way your heart’s starting to beat a little too fast.

INT. PITTSBURGH MED – LOCKER ROOM – LATER THAT NIGHT

You check the time. Shift change is creeping closer. You’ve reviewed your charts, followed up on orders, even looped back with Whitaker to debrief his first trauma line. But Frank’s nowhere.

You poke your head into the on-call room. Empty.

Check the charting station. Nothing.

You finally corner Dr. Robby near the vending machine.

YOU Where’s Langdon?

Robby doesn’t look up from the vending machine, punching a selection like it’s personal.

DR. ROBBY He went home.

YOU What? His shift wasn’t over for another three hours.

DR. ROBBY (avoiding eye contact) Guess he needed a break.

YOU Robby.

DR. ROBBY You wanted space. Maybe he’s giving it to you.

He grabs his snack and walks off without waiting for your reply. You stand there, unsettled, then head to the nurses’ station, where Dana is signing off her charts.

YOU Do you know why Frank left early?

Dana doesn’t even pause her scribbling.

DANA Nope.

YOU You’re lying.

DANA I’m ignoring.

She tears off a sheet, hands it to a med tech, and turns to leave.

DANA (CONT’D) Let it go for tonight.

You don’t.

INT. PITTSBURGH MED – MED STUDENT WORKROOM – MINUTES LATER

You pass by the small conference room where the med students are huddled over sandwiches and trauma notes. As you walk by, you catch a few murmured voices.

WHITAKER (O.S.) I’m just saying—it was weird. Dr. Robby just pulled him mid-shift and told him to clock out. Didn’t even let him finish the case.

You stop in your tracks.

JAVADI (O.S.) Frank Langdon? No way.

SANTOS (O.S.) Javadi, I saw the drawer. He had oxy stashed in there. Said it was from his back, but still—why bring that into the pit?

Silence.

WHITAKER (O.S.) You’re not gonna report him?

SANTOS (O.S.) Are you? I like my GPA where it is.

They laugh nervously. You don’t.

You back away from the door slowly, stomach dropping like the ground’s been pulled out from under you. Your heart is hammering. All that blood in the trauma bay, all the tension, all the looks from Robby and Dana—they weren’t about you.

They were about him.

INT. FRANK’S APARTMENT – NIGHT

You bang on the door harder than you mean to. It’s late, but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking, your chest is tight, and every unanswered question from the shift is clawing at your throat.

The door opens. Frank stands there in a t-shirt and sweats, hair damp like he just got out of the shower, but his eyes are sharp—too alert for someone who supposedly needed rest.

FRANK What the hell—

YOU Don’t lie to me.

He pauses. The breath he takes is too slow. Calculated.

FRANK Come inside.

YOU No. Say it here. Did you get pulled because they caught you with pills?

His mouth opens—then shuts again.

That’s all you need.

YOU (CONT’D) Jesus, Frank. What the hell are you doing?

FRANK It wasn’t—

YOU Don’t say “it wasn’t a big deal.” I’m not a med student. I’m not Robby. You don’t get to gaslight me.

FRANK It was from my back. I’ve had that bottle since last year.

YOU Bullshit! Then why hide it? Why sneak it from the pitt?

A beat. He looks away.

FRANK Because sometimes I don’t sleep. And when I do, I wake up like my whole body’s still in the OR. And I’m exhausted and I’m angry and everything feels like it’s caving in—and I needed something to get through the shift.

You stare at him, heart pounding.

YOU So you put us at risk. You put patients at risk.

FRANK I didn’t take anything on shift. I swear to God.

You want to believe him. But you’re still standing in the hallway. Still frozen on the fact that Robby and Dana covered for him. That a med student saw it before you did.

YOU You should’ve come to me.

FRANK I didn’t want you to look at me like this.

YOU Like what?

FRANK Like I’m broken.

Silence.

YOU I don’t think you’re broken. (beat) I think you’re fucking reckless. And I don’t know how to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.

He doesn’t answer. He just stands there in the doorway, jaw clenched, pain flickering just behind his eyes.

You take a step back.

YOU (CONT’D) You need to fix this. Not for me. For yourself. Because if Robby doesn’t report it, someone else will.

You turn and walk away.

This time, he doesn’t stop you.

INT. ON-CALL ROOM – TWO NIGHTS LATER

It’s nearly midnight again. The hospital is quieter, the chaos subdued to soft monitor beeps and distant footsteps. You’re sitting on the cot, reviewing labs, pretending to care about numbers you can’t focus on.

The door opens.

You don’t look up.

FRANK (O.S.) Hey.

Your stomach clenches. You close the chart.

YOU Is this where you tell me you’re fine and I overreacted?

FRANK No. (beat) I’m not fine. And you didn’t overreact.

You finally look at him. He’s leaning against the doorframe, looking more like himself than he did the other night—but still not all the way there. There's a rawness in his face you’ve only seen a few times. After a bad code. After his father died. After your first fight.

YOU Did you talk to Robby?

FRANK Yeah. I asked for help. I’m getting it.

Silence.

He walks into the room slowly, stops a few feet from you like he’s testing the gravity.

FRANK (CONT’D) I’ve never let anyone in the way I let you in. It scared the shit out of me.

YOU So you self-destructed.

FRANK Yeah. I’m good at that.

He looks down. Then back up.

FRANK (CONT’D) But I don’t want to lose you. Even if we’re a mess. Especially because we’re a mess.

You stand, heart caught in your throat.

YOU I can’t fix you.

FRANK I don’t want you to. I just... want to be next to you while I try to fix myself.

A pause. Then, quietly—

FRANK (CONT’D) I miss you.

That’s what breaks you.

You cross the space between you in two steps and kiss him—desperate, rough, too full of everything neither of you knows how to say. He kisses you back like it’s the first time and the last time all at once, hands tangling in your hair, your scrubs, anything to hold onto.

You pull back just enough to breathe.

YOU Don’t make me regret this.

FRANK I won’t.

He kisses you again. And this time, it feels like maybe—just maybe—you’re starting over.

[gilbertscurls]

worth it — matt sturniolo

It started with a group chat.

Which, to be fair, is how most chaos in your life did start—specifically when that group chat included the Sturniolo triplets.

[Chaos Goblins 🧨]: Chris: you free friday night? You: depends Nick: she’s free You: wow, thanks nick Matt: what’s happening friday Chris: nothing for you Nick: unless you wanna third-wheel Matt: what

You should’ve known something was up. Chris was way too casual. Nick was way too smug. And Matt? Matt was suspicious in the way a golden retriever gets when you say “walk” but don’t reach for the leash.

Still, you were intrigued. Also slightly bored. Also easily bullied by persuasive texts and too many heart emojis.

So when Friday night rolled around, you showed up at the cute little café Chris had sent you the address to, expecting—at the very least—a decent cup of coffee and a good story to tell.

What you didn’t expect was Matt.

Sitting at a table. Fidgeting with a sugar packet.

Looking equally confused.

“…Matt?” you asked, stopping mid-step.

His head jerked up. “Wait—you’re my blind date?”

You blinked. “You’re mine?”

There was a beat of silence. And then, in perfect unison:

“CHRIS.”

From a corner booth, Chris and Nick peeked over the edge of a menu. Chris waved. Nick looked far too pleased with himself.

“They’re so dramatic,” Nick muttered to Chris, who nodded solemnly.

“They’ve been in love for five years and still haven’t kissed. I’m doing the Lord’s work.”

Matt looked at you. You looked at Matt.

Then—helpless, resigned—you both sat down.

“This is so stupid,” Matt said, but he was smiling.

“Unbelievably stupid,” you agreed. “Want to order dessert first out of spite?”

“Yes,” he said immediately. “God, yes. Two slices of cake. And I’m not sharing.”

The “date” was… surprisingly fun.

Partly because you and Matt had always been good together—banter easy, laughter constant, conversations that bounced between chaotic and sincere. And partly because the sheer absurdity of being set up on a blind date with your best friend made everything feel surreal in the best way.

You fed him a bite of your cake at one point just to mess with the boys. Matt immediately retaliated by dramatically wiping frosting off your cheek with a napkin and whispering, “We’re really selling it now.”

Chris choked on his drink.

Nick facepalmed so hard, you heard it.

By the end of the night, you and Matt were walking back to the car, still giggling about the expression on Chris’s face when Matt offered to “accidentally” feed you a french fry.

“I can’t believe they tricked us,” you said, bumping your shoulder against his.

“I can,” Matt said. “We’ve been dancing around each other for so long I’m shocked they didn’t lock us in a closet together.”

You laughed. “Yeah, but a blind date? Really?”

Matt glanced at you, a little softer now. “Maybe they just… wanted us to admit what they already knew.”

You stopped walking.

So did he.

For a second, everything felt still.

The night air, cool and quiet. The streetlamp humming above you. The world holding its breath.

Matt shifted, suddenly nervous. “Okay, don’t laugh, but—”

You kissed him.

It wasn’t perfect—your teeth bumped, and you almost dropped your keys—but it was warm and real and long overdue.

When you pulled back, Matt’s eyes were wide. And a little dazed.

“I was gonna say I’ve been in love with you forever,” he whispered.

You grinned. “Yeah. I got that.”

From across the street, someone yelled, “FINALLY!”

You turned to see Chris doing a little victory dance and Nick filming it with the solemn energy of a documentarian.

Matt groaned. “We’re never living this down.”

You laughed, slipping your hand into his.

“Good thing I kinda like the idiot who made it worth it.”

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @shadowthesim237, @courta13, @frankdelreyy, @evansturn, @bamsblooming, @backwardshatnick, @whore4chris

[acciofictionalmen]

fallout in the snowfall ❆ part 3

james potter x female!reader

summary: when james kisses you on an adrenaline high, your friendship is in shambles as the true meaning of "just friends" becomes irreparably warped. you both desperately try to restore the platonic bond that you once shared, but at what cost...

warnings: strong language, sexual references

word count: 3.1k

series masterlist

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Excited chatter filled the room as people crowded around the centre, eager to hear their name called. You stood with your group of friends, chatting with Sirius and Remus whilst James talked to Lily. Mary was busy reassuring Peter, who looked disconcertingly pale.

Christmas break was quickly approaching and, much to the students’ chagrin, teachers began to set end-of-term tests. As it was your penultimate year at Hogwarts all tests were treated seriously. However, there was a different atmosphere surrounding the DADA test: a duel utilising the most advanced spells you’d been taught so far. It was assessed based on who disarmed their opponent first, the length of the duel and the range of spells used; everyone was anticipating it. Some were excited and had disarmed multiple first years that morning for practice, others (namely Peter), had vomited during breakfast.

You weren’t sure into which category you fell. Sure, you were confident in your knowledge, but duelling was different to scribbling information down on a piece of parchment: it was impulsive.

Not only that, your DADA teacher – Professor Halloway – had a reputation for being as harsh as she was skilled. Approaching her one hundredth birthday, she was wise, experienced and beautiful in a sharp manner, with thick black hair she kept stuffed beneath a black, pointed hat. Her face was drawn, tight, her brown eyes always critical. It wasn’t easy to score high grades in Halloway’s classes.

“You’ll do fine.” Remus smiled by your side, noticing your growing discomfort, “I’ve seen you practice. You’ve got this.”

“Yeah (Y/n),” Sirius squeezed your arm, “Just pretend they’re Snape.” Sirius’ eyes darkened as he spied the Slytherin on the opposite end of the room, speaking with the Professor, “I know I will be.”

“Thanks guys.” Your head tilted teasingly, “Try not to accidentally murder Snape then.”

Sirius gave you a concerningly non-committal look.

Whilst waiting, you noticed Remus clenching his fists- anxious to do well. An idea sprang to your mind.

“Wanna be my duelling partner?” You abruptly asked Remus, “Sirius will be desperate to duel Snape, unless James beats him to it.”

Remus gave you a thankful smile, “Yeah, thanks (Y/n). We’ll do that.”

“Of cour-“

“Potter. James Potter.”

The room went silent as all eyes flew to James.

In a manner that oozed confidence, he rolled his shoulders back and stepped into the centre of the room.

Professor Halloway looked disinterested, “Partner?”

On instinct, you turned to Snape. His sneer was more pronounced than usual, and you knew he was also waiting for his name to be called.

“Prewett.”

Your heart dropped. The impact of his name seemed to surge through the room as people turned around in surprise. In a few seconds, Gideon had pushed through the crowd until he stood directly in front of James. Both boys silently assessed each other, both the picture of self-assurance. There was one stark difference between them- James appeared unbothered, his posture relaxed. Gideon, on the other hand, was visibly tense; lacked the ease that had always come naturally to James.

Your heartbeat sped up as you held your breath, trying to ignore the pounding in your chest as the tension in the room mounted.

“Take your positions.” Professor Halloway dictated. The class fell silent once more to witness the interaction. Even Snape was unable to hide the shock from his face.

James stood on the left, closest to you, whilst Gideon stood opposite on the right.

Professor Halloway spoke cautiously, “Remember- this is solely to disarm. No other spells are to be used.” Both boys nodded. “Now, draw your wands and bow… Bow, Potter…”

The irritation on James’ face was almost comical as he sunk into a deeper bow, but you couldn’t laugh. You held your breath as both boys stepped away from each other.

“One… Two…”

You stared, unable to look away.

“Three.”

Lights flashed across the room as both cast spells at an alarmingly fast rate.

It quickly became clear who was faster.

Gideon’s casting visibly began to slow as his spells started to miss their target, his wand movements becoming sloppier against the onslaught of James’.

It wasn’t long before Gideon was on the floor, panting for air. But James wasn’t finished.

“FLIPENDO.” The word rung throughout the room and Gideon was flung backwards. He slammed into the wall with a sickening thud, dropping to the floor.

A hand flew to your mouth. The room erupted into shouts.

People were running over to Gideon, checking he was okay and attempting to lift him off the ground. Professor Halloway was viciously scolding James, his loyal best friends immediately supporting him and by his side. You stood there in the centre of it all, horrified, as people bustled around.

You couldn’t process what had just happened as you watched a Hufflepuff girl shaking Gideon frantically. There were too many people surrounding him to see if he had opened his eyes.

Your shock and confusion at James for taking it too far was quickly replaced by anger. He had recently seemed a little hostile towards Gideon, but you chalked it down to James’ anxiety for the Gryffindor team to do well. This- this was something else.

“He’s okay!” Someone declared. Gideon had stood up, somewhat off-balance, but seemed to be fine. You exhaled in relief, mentally noting to check on him later.

After giving Gideon a quick once-over and deeming him fit to stay in class, Professor Halloway continued her berating. “You got lucky, Potter. If this happens again you will not be welcome in this class. From today, you have a fortnight of detention and will automatically fail this test.”

There were some shouts of indignation from Sirius and some opposing yells that James’ punishment wasn’t enough, but Professor Halloway silenced them with a lethal look as she turned to face the rest of the class.

“Any more of this behaviour in my lessons, and you’ll find that you have no free time for a month.”

That shut everyone up.

She picked up her list and proceeded to call people up. Snape, much to James and Sirius’ horror, called Remus up. But they needn’t have feared: Remus won a decisive victory with a spurt of well-rehearsed spell combinations. You were slightly disappointed Remus wouldn’t be able to duel again now, but you knew Mary would be more than happy to partner up.

Following James’ scolding no more dangerous incidents occurred, and the duels blended seamlessly together. Before you knew it, Professor Halloway had called your name and you were stood by her side.

“Partner?” She asked curtly.

“Mary.” You said, grinning as your best friend made eye contact with you, already making her way up to the front.

“You must think me blind, Miss (L/n), if you think I haven’t noticed how close the two of you are. Duelling is about spontaneity, and I have no doubt you’ve practiced with Miss MacDonald many times.”

Mary froze, and you knew your face mirrored the disappointment on her own.

Professor Halloway continued, “Mulciber, please come up.”

Sirius swore loudly as you froze, feet glued to the floor. Your eyes went to your friends, who all looked worried. But it was James who made his indignation known.

“You can’t have him duel-”

“Silence!” Professor Halloway hissed, “Another disruption from you, Potter, and I’ll see your expulsion through personally.”

You shook your head at James as he fell silent, a frown etched into his face as he watched Mulciber approach you.

Your duelling partner took his place opposite, a sickening grin on his face as his lips curled wickedly.

Mulciber was a Slytherin notorious for his cruel, unforgiving nature, and a friend of Snape’s. He’d once had a brawl in the courtyard with Sirius, and both had left with considerable injuries that even Madam Pomfrey couldn’t heal overnight. He hated the Marauders, and their friends.

All eyes were on you as you bowed, your eyes narrowing at Mulciber as you assessed him. The look in his eyes was wild, one of unmistakeable hostility.

For a moment everyone seemed to hold their breath. You knew your duelling was strong enough to best Mulciber- you just had to stay collected.

“One.”

Your fingers tightened around your wand as you got into a duelling stance. Mulciber did the same.

“Two.”

Your arms went rigid to stop them shaking from the anticipation, the first spell already dancing on the tip of your tongue.

“Th-”

Mulciber blasted a spell your way.

People were already shouting, but you couldn’t listen.

Though he’d taken you by surprise, your blocks were precise. Mulciber’s voice rose in anger, but his spells still were unable to scrape past your unyielding shield.

You smirked as he snarled, spells bouncing off your shield and rebounding across the room as people ducked to avoid his wrath. He neared you, his movements vaguely reminding you of a lion stalking its prey. Your determination intensified; between the two of you there was only one Gryffindor.

But the impact of his spells slamming relentlessly into your shield was beginning to drain your energy, and you knew that in order to win you had to go onto the offensive.

Within a second you dropped your shield and flung a spell at your opponent. He staggered back, surprised, his look of shock morphing into anger. You readied your wand but he was already hurling spells your way. You deflected them too late, stumbling slightly as you struggled to regain your balance.

Panic began to overwhelm your thoughts as your wand slipped in your hand. Your palms were slick with sweat; every time you had an opening to fire a spell Mulciber would easily deflect it, then hurl ten back. You were struggling to find an opening and feeling wearier by the second.

Mulciber’s face was red as you dodged spell after spell, and you faintly registered the loud yells around you. Whatever was said had him gritting his teeth, when he suddenly slammed you with a spell so vicious that you almost fell backwards.

A spell as violent as that can’t have been for disarming. The shouting in the room got louder.

You heard Professor Halloway reprimanding Mulciber, but you barely processed it as he continued to attack you with an onslaught of magic. By now you were clenching your wand tightly, your hands shaking from the strain.

Within seconds his spells seemed to gain a new intensity. You had to cast one final spell and end this. There was a moment, a millisecond, where Mulciber was preparing to attack again, and you momentarily let down your shield to hit him with the disarming charm.

He beat you to it.

The spell slammed into your chest as you choked on air, the impact making your lungs constrict painfully. Before you could properly register it, you were flying backwards. A blinding pain shot up your arm as you slammed onto the ground, a strangled sound escaping your throat.

There were screams, people rushing around you as you sat up quickly, vision slightly hazy. Cradling your arm, the tears in your eyes were a mixture of pain and sheer embarrassment. You felt so humiliated, hating the attention as people repeatedly asked if you were okay. Suddenly Professor Halloway’s pointed face appeared into view as she hauled you up and towards the exit of the room.

Within an instant a familiar voice was speaking up, rough and panicked, “Professor, let me take her to Madam Pomfrey, please.”

You realised with a start that it was James as he shoved people aside to get to you, his eyes wild.

Anger flooded your senses and, combined with not only the pain in your wrist but the humiliation of your defeat, it became rage, “Not him.” You spat, “Anyone but him.” You turned to Professor Halloway, ignoring James as she stared at you thoughtfully.

“Lupin!” She called, and Remus was instantly by your side.

Before you knew it you’d left the classroom. The door slammed shut on James, and the chaos inside.

──── ୨୧ ────

After a gruelling day, lessons were finally over. Curled up by the fire, you basked in the warmth and soft crackles that filled the common room. It was late, so most people had vacated the space to get ready for bed.

You chose to stay behind, in deep thought as you moved your now fully healed wrist.

The quiet didn’t last long as the Fat Lady portrait abruptly swung open. In came James, accompanied by Remus. You screwed your eyes shut, in disbelief that this was happening now of all times.

James hesitated at the sight of you, alone, and nodded to Remus, “I’ll be just a minute mate, go up without me.”

Remus lingered at the foot of the stairs, appearing uncertain, but headed up at the sound of the resolution in James’ voice. You didn’t speak, didn’t bother to face him as you continued to stare into the fire, orange floating in front of your eyes whenever you blinked.

James stood behind you.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, the words sliding out casually.

“Fine.” You didn’t bother to look up at him; your cold tone making it clear that you wanted to be left alone.

James shook his head in frustration. Turning to the staircase, his hand settled on the railing as the first step creaked. But then he stepped back down, turning around suddenly, “What’s the problem? Between us?” His words had a confrontational edge, prompting you to turn and face him as your brows furrowed.

“What?”

James took a step towards you, that stubbornness burning in his eyes as he stared you down, “What’s wrong with you? Why have you been acting like this?”

You stood up, unable to bear the way he was talking down to you and how vulnerable it made you feel. “How I’ve been acting? Did you not almost kill Gideon Prewett earlier after slamming him into a wall for no reason?”

“He would’ve survived worse. He’s annoyingly persistent like that.” His eyes were dark.

“He didn’t deserve it.”

His irritated expression suggested otherwise. James clenched his jaw, crossing his arms. His biceps bulged, briefly pulling your eyes away from his face.

“You’re unreasonable.” You spat; tone accusatory as you moved towards him.

James scoffed, the fire reflecting in his glasses, “And you aren’t? Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or am I expected to grovel at your feet and beg for an answer?”

You rolled your eyes, refusing to take the bait. This had to stop. “Don’t turn this on me, James.” You shook your head, laughing in disbelief, “You don’t get to do that.”

James stared you down, unspeaking. You hated the way he just stood there. You needed a reaction from him, needed to know your words hurt him as much as he had you.

You didn’t know when the conversation had turned away from Gideon, but it just did.

You maintained his gaze, refusing to look away. “Our friendship is ruined because you used me to satiate your- whatever- and then didn’t know what to do with me afterwards.” You swallowed harshly, stifling any emotion as you struggled to conceal how deeply affected you were by him.

His jaw clenched, “That’s what you think of me, is it?” His laugh was joyless as he took one final step, asserting himself over you. The height difference was pronounced as he looked down to speak, “You’re the one who made it awkward. You’re the one who made things different when they were just fine.”

“Maybe I didn’t want ‘just fine’.”

He hesitated.

“Merlin, James, do you ever think about what others want for a change?” You struck where you knew it would hurt.

James stopped you before you could get another hurtful word in. “Don’t act as though you didn’t pull away first, (Y/n). Don’t pretend this is all on me. It’s not my fault that my friendship wasn’t enough for you, that you weren’t satisfied. You don’t get to blame that on me.” His voice got louder as he rubbed his temples, “And what are you mad at me for, exactly? Kissing you?” He paused, waiting for you to respond. You didn’t. “Because if you didn’t like that, you’d be the first.” His voice was harsh, that familiar cockiness slipping out.

You froze, his words smacking you in the face.

Anger shone in the tears that pooled in your eyes. You shoved a hand against his chest, “Fuck you-”

James opened his mouth to speak. You didn’t let him. “-and your fucked up idea of friendship.”

You tried to turn away but his hand flew to your wrist, keeping your palm splayed against him.

You were close now, so close. The red glow of the flames danced on the rim of James’ glasses as you stood your ground, refusing to look away.

His eyes dropped to your lips, and your eyes begged to do the same. You couldn't do it. Wouldn't allow yourself to.

“Don’t you dare.” Your voice cracked, finally yielding under the tension. James’ eyes flicked up to yours again, his breathing heavy. The look he gave you was one of hurt and anger, and something else. “Don’t you dare look at me like that.”

Your words came out harsher than intended and James instantly dropped your wrist, stepping away. Your hand dropped to your side, fingers tingling.

The gap between you seemed to roar with everything unspoken.

“We’ve ruined this.”

James’ response was low, spiteful. “Then stop chasing it.”

“Stop, both of you!” A voice sliced through the tension, causing you to whip around. Mary stood at the foot of the stairs in pink pyjamas, arms crossed as she glared at James.

“We’re going to bed.” She went up to you and took your arm, dragging you away.

“You’ve got a date tomorrow (Y/n), focus on that.” Mary soothed as you disappeared up the stairs, her words intentionally loud so that James would hear.

Mary was James’ friend, sure- and maybe what she’d said was petty, but she could live with that. In Mary’s eyes you came first, and James had hurt you. Badly. He deserved to know that he was no longer a priority in your life.

James stood there; hands clenching and unclenching as his anger began to ebb away. Eventually, the lack of your presence caused the buzzing in his mind to settle.

He cursed, sinking into the armchair closest to the fire. So close, that he had to move his legs away from the flames- the heat bordering on painful. His head fell back, cushioned by the plush material. He hadn’t known why he’d done it, had lost control with his classmate. His teammate. Why he had seen him as a threat.

James watched the logs burn, until they were swallowed by the flames and the fire died out. He sat there, contemplating in the darkness, until the cinders were cool to the touch.

A/N

i really enjoyed writing this part! let me know what you thought i love to read your comments :)

if you'd like to be added to the taglist, do lmk

thank you for reading, lots of love ♡

series masterlist here ❆

taglist ♡♡♡

@pandoraswan @featherlightfairysworld @mus-tbe-a-weasley @hisparentsgallerryy @stanzie @wolfstar-jpg @fangirl-swagg @moonlightremblack @simp4myself @niniantics @froggiedragon @madevour

[stellarmeira]

Planets in Ashwini Nakshatra

Ashwini is within (0° to 13°20′ Aries) in the sidereal zodiac. The Ashvini Kumaras, twin horse‑healers, guard its gate while Ketu supplies intuition and Mars lends raw impulse. Anything that lands here wants to bolt, mend, and begin again. Tumblr astrologers keep circling three keywords for Ashwini: speed, fresh starts, quick recovery. Each planet colours that momentum in its own way. Below you will find nine snapshots woven from earlier notes plus new Tumblr insights, rewritten so nothing sounds copied.

1 Sun in Ashwini People with this Sun look like sunrise in human form. They stride into a room and the vibe lifts; one blogger called them “dawn on two legs”. When the Sun nears 10° Aries (its exaltation point) the confidence peaks and these natives often rise quickly to positions of power - business tycoons, community leaders or even politicians. They chase fresh starts like daylight chases night, yet impatience can kick in if recognition drags. Their style stays bright but simple: warm tones in soft, flowing fits that echo dawn’s glow.

Each year - this April 14 2025, for example - when the transiting Sun moves through Ashwini it hands everyone a burst of courage and new-idea energy. It is perfect for bold haircuts, brand launches or finally saying what you mean, as long as we remember that even solar fire needs pacing.

2 Moon in Ashwini Feelings gallop, rest, then gallop again. Tumblr writers describe their eyes as nostalgic yet mischievous. A midnight playlist, a barefoot walk, or quick journaling resets the mood in minutes. When the Moon passes Ashwini each month, collective energy turns fidgety. Many of us tidy, text old friends, or plan impulsive picnics, only to laugh at our own restlessness by morning.

3 Mercury in Ashwini The mind races ahead of notifications. One post says these natives "finish the joke before the group chat loads". They absorb languages, memes, and code snippets with equal hunger, though details scatter unless timers or sticky notes step in. A Mercury transit through Ashwini shakes cobwebs off stalled projects. Proofreading is wise because typos sprint just as quickly.

4 Venus in Ashwini Love here is playful and first in line. Expect spontaneous coffee dates, thrift‑store treasures, and photos of sunsets through bus windows. Clothes need movement; breezy fabrics beat tight tailoring. During the yearly Venus visit, wallets loosen, wardrobes shuffle, and relationships pick up a flirtatious wind. Setting a budget alert keeps the thrill free of buyer’s remorse.

5 Mars in Ashwini Bottled lightning. These people look athletic even without gym hours. They act, apologise, then act again. Tumblr notes a link to tension headaches, so stretching and hydration matter. When Mars transits Ashwini we see sudden DIY fixes, blunt honesty, and new workout streaks. Warm‑ups prevent muscle strains; cooling breaths tame flashes of temper.

6 Jupiter in Ashwini Called the "spiritual loophole" placement because insight leaps over years of study. Students become teachers before their notebooks fill. Travel tales pile up, each one holding a lesson. When Jupiter returns every twelve years, scholarships, visas, or book deals appear almost out of thin air. Dream large but plot small checkpoints to keep the harvest real.

7 Saturn in Ashwini Imagine hauling a slow cart onto a racetrack. Early life feels stuck while others sprint by. Tumblr posts mention job hopping right before raises arrive. With time the same native becomes a marathon worker who outlasts sprinters. The next Saturn transit in 2027 will test every fresh idea for cracks. Plans that survive will stand for decades.

8 Rahu in Ashwini Trend magnet. One blogger tagged it "wild fame fuel". Rahu wants instant results and Ashwini hands over relentless speed, so viral peaks and rapid pivots are common. Consistency apps, bedtime rituals, and honest friends act as anchors. The 2023 transit felt like social media on fast‑forward and reminded everyone to fact‑check before diving into hype.

9 Ketu in Ashwini Ketu rules this star, so its presence feels natural and deep. Natives drift toward Reiki, herbalism, or silent retreats without grand announcements. They disappear at dawn to watch the sky then return with quiet solutions. When Ketu crosses Ashwini, closets empty, stale connections fade, and dreams speak louder than alarms. Keeping a notebook on the nightstand helps catch those messages.

Key takeaways Ashwini energy never waits. It starts, heals, starts again. Harness the surge to launch projects, refresh routines, and invite new experiences, but pair that spark with steady habits - hydration, budgeting, stretching, or simple checklists - so momentum shapes something that lasts.

[82sim]

MY FIRST AND LAST

p jisung × fem!reader w.c 5.1k t.w angst.

the cicadas hummed a familiar summer tune, their constant chirping echoing into the evening as y/n made her way up the gravel driveway toward her house house. the air was warm, heavy with the weight of the approaching night, and the faint sound of laughter and music seeped through the windows of the small house. 

“y/n!” chenle’s voice rang out, startling her for a moment. “i thought you were gonna study tonight at the library”  

“i decided it wouldn’t hurt to have some fun” she called back with a grin, slipping inside and taking off her shoes by the door. 

the living room was already bustling with energy. haechan and jaemin were perched on the couch, absorbed in their phone, jeno, mark and renjun in the kitchen conversating. while chenle fiddled with the karaoke machine, testing the microphones. jisung was sitting at the edge of the room, leaning back against the wall, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who was just hanging out. when he caught sight of y/n, he flashed her a quick, easy smile.  

“hey,” she greeted him, joining him on the couch. “what are you doing over here? shouldn’t you be helping chenle destroy the karaoke machine?”  

“not unless he wants to sing bohemian rhapsody again. i’d rather avoid that.” jisung shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze softening as it met hers. “where were you? i would’ve came and picked you up”  

“you always say that,” y/n laughed, bumping his shoulder playfully. “

 “you’re just mad because i can’t let you beat me at mario kart.”  

“excuse me?” y/n raised an eyebrow. “i’ve beaten you more than once.”  

“right, sure.” jisung chuckled, but there was something in his eyes that made her pause—something deeper than the usual friendly teasing.  

their banter continued effortlessly, as it always did. it was as though they’d been playing this game forever—laughing, teasing, poking fun at each other. they knew the rhythms of each other’s personalities, the way each one could turn a phrase into something both charming and cutting. jisung had always been the quiet one in the group, content to sit back and watch, yet with y/n, he’d always been different. softer, more attentive. it wasn’t lost on her, this subtle shift in the way he treated her, but she never said anything about it. she’d never felt the need to. it felt natural.  

as the night went on, the group slid into their usual chaos, gathering snacks, choosing songs, and setting up for their next game. amid the noise, y/n found herself stepping over a stray cord, tripping slightly before catching herself against the couch.  

“ow,” she muttered, her foot twisting awkwardly beneath her.  

before she even had time to process it, jisung was there, moving with surprising speed. he caught her by the shoulders, steadying her, his hands warm against her skin.  

“you good?” his voice was low, serious in a way that made y/n’s heart skip for a brief moment.  

“yeah, i’m fine,” she laughed, trying to shrug it off. but when she shifted her weight to put pressure on her foot, she winced.  

“let me see,” he said, kneeling in front of her without hesitation. his fingers moved with care, tracing over her ankle, testing for any signs of injury. the banter from the other boys air distant as he checked her foot, his touch gentle but thorough.�� 

“you’re being dramatic,” y/n teased softly, though her voice came out quieter than she intended.  

jisung glanced up at her, his eyes momentarily locking with hers. there was something in his gaze—something that made her stomach flutter. he didn’t laugh or make another joke. instead, his fingers lingered against her skin just a little longer than necessary.  

“you should be more careful.” his voice was softer now, almost protective.  

“i’ll try,” she replied, her own voice betraying a hint of something that wasn’t quite as playful as before.  

chenle’s voice cut through the quiet moment. “jisung, stop flirting. get up and help me set up the next round.”  

“yeah, yeah, i’m coming,” jisung muttered, rolling his eyes but standing up nonetheless. he helped y/n to her feet, his hand resting lightly on her elbow as if still concerned about her balance.  

the rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and games, but y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. there had been a moment between her and jisung—something almost fragile in its intensity—that lingered in her thoughts long after they’d returned to the chaos of their friends.  

eventually, the group began to filter out, one by one, until it was just y/n and jisung left sitting on the porch. the night had cooled, the cicadas’ song now more distant than before, their chorus fading into the background as the stars overhead blinked faintly in the vast sky.  

neither of them spoke for a while, the silence stretching out between them like a quiet understanding. y/n could feel the weight of jisung’s presence beside her, his shoulder barely brushing hers, but it was enough to send an inexplicable warmth flooding through her.  

“you okay?” she asked, her voice soft, almost hesitant.  

“yeah,” jisung replied, but there was a note of uncertainty there. he leaned back, resting his hands on the wooden steps beneath them. his eyes turned to the dark sky above, but it didn’t seem like he was truly looking at the stars. it was like he was searching for something—something far more elusive.  

“i don’t know,” he continued after a moment, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “sometimes i feel like i’m just… living in someone else’s story. like i’m not really me…. just a background character to someone else’s plot.”  

y/n felt her breath catch at his words. there was an honesty in his voice that she wasn’t used to hearing. jisung was always the quiet one, the observer, but tonight, there was a weight to his words that felt almost too heavy for the night air.  

“what do you mean?” she asked, her voice soft with concern, her hand finding its way to his without thinking.  

he flinched at first, but didn’t pull away. instead, he gave her a sad smile, the kind of smile that made her heart ache.  

“i don’t know,” he repeated, shaking his head as if the words weren’t coming out right. “it’s like i’m always second place to someone. like… i dont know who i am anymore.”  

y/n felt the truth in his words like a physical sting. she had seen it—the way jisung had always lived in chenle’s shadow, quietly holding back while the others made themselves known. but she hadn’t realized how much it affected him until now.  

“you’re not second place, jisung,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “not to anyone. not to me. you’re so much more than that. you’re…”  

she hesitated, unsure how to finish the sentence. her words felt like they weren’t enough.  

“more than enough?” jisung’s voice was almost too quiet, but it was there, hanging in the air like a challenge.  

y/n’s heart pounded in her chest. she wasn’t sure why, but she felt a sudden impulse to lean in closer, to close the distance between them. “yeah,” she said softly, her fingers tightening around his hand. “you are. you’re everything, jisung.”  

for a moment, they just sat there, their hands intertwined, the silence between them no longer uncomfortable but somehow meaningful.  

“i wish you could see yourself the way i see you,” she whispered, her breath hitching in her throat.  

jisung didn’t answer, but his thumb gently brushed over the back of her hand, and for a fleeting moment, she thought that maybe—just maybe—he understood exactly what she meant.  

the stars above seemed to flicker brighter as they sat together in the stillness of the night, but neither of them could find the words to break the fragile quiet that enveloped them.  

the days stretched out in a haze of summer heat, but beneath the surface, something was subtly shifting between y/n and jisung. it started small—an extra second of eye contact, a lingering smile—but the signs were undeniable. every time they interacted, there was an unspoken tension in the air, an electricity that neither of them could quite explain.  

at first, y/n tried to ignore it. she told herself that it was just the closeness of their friendship, the comfort that had always existed between them. but the truth was, the more time they spent together, the more she noticed the subtle changes. 

jisung began texting her more frequently, separate from their usual group chats. at first, it was just casual things—memes that made her laugh, random observations about their day—but soon it turned into something more. he would check in on her after long days of school or ask how she was feeling when she seemed a little off.  

“how’s your day?” jisung would text, and y/n could feel her heart flutter every time his name appeared on her phone. it wasn’t just the messages—it was the fact that he seemed genuinely interested, that he wanted to know, that he cared. 

it felt different than when he did the same with the others. it wasn’t just about being part of the group; it was about her.

one afternoon, a few weeks after their quiet conversation on the porch, jisung suggested they study together for an upcoming test. “i figured i’d make sure you don’t fail this one,” he joked, though there was something in his eyes that made y/n’s heart skip.  

the library was quiet, save for the rustle of pages turning and the occasional shuffle of feet. they sat across from each other, a shared textbook between them. the scent of old paper and coffee lingered in the air, but it was the feeling of jisung’s presence that filled the space. y/n could hear the steady rhythm of his breath as he helped her go through notes, his voice low and focused.  

she had always felt comfortable around him, but tonight, the air felt thicker. every time he looked at her, there was a softness in his eyes—a softness that made her wonder if maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same things she had been trying to ignore.  

as the hours wore on, y/n’s eyelids grew heavy. she stifled a yawn, her head beginning to droop. without thinking, she leaned against jisung’s shoulder, her eyes closing just for a moment.  

at first, there was nothing. the silence stretched out like any other, but then she felt him freeze beneath her, his body stiffening in surprise. the weight of his stillness made her pull back slightly, but when she met his gaze, she saw something—something in the way he looked at her that made her heart race.  

for a split second, she thought she might have made things awkward, but then she noticed the way he adjusted his position so that she could rest more comfortably against him. his body was still, his breath a little faster than normal, but he didn’t move away. instead, he leaned into the moment, giving her space to relax, his arm carefully draping over the back of her chair as though protecting the fragile balance between them.  

her heart pounded in her chest, but she stayed there, not wanting to break the delicate silence that had settled between them.  

“thanks,” she murmured, but jisung didn’t say anything in response. he just nodded slightly, his gaze focused on his notes, though his fingers absently brushed against hers.  

it was a simple gesture, but it felt like an unspoken promise. she had to wonder if he felt it, too—this quiet connection that seemed to be pulling them closer and closer.  

the weeks passed, and the air between them grew heavier, more laden with what was left unsaid. then, one evening, when chenle was out of town for a basketball tournament, something changed.  

y/n had planned to spend the night alone, figuring she’d just catch up on some reading and relax in her room. but when the doorbell rang around seven o’clock, she wasn’t expecting it to be jisung.  

“hey,” he greeted her awkwardly, standing on her doorstep with a bag of her favorite snacks and a dvd of one of her all-time favorite movies. “figured you’d be bored without chenle here, so… i brought the essentials.”  

y/n blinked at him, momentarily stunned by the unexpected gesture. she knew jisung was thoughtful, but this felt different. he had gone out of his way—had done something for her that wasn’t part of their usual group dynamic.  

“you didn’t have to do that,” she said, her voice soft as she stepped aside to let him in.  

“i know.” he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “but i figured it might be nice. and i’m not really doing anything either, so…”  

he trailed off, but y/n’s heart warmed at the sight of him. it wasn’t just the snacks or the movie—it was the thought behind it. he wasn’t there because he *had* to be. he was there because he wanted to be.  

they spent the night on the couch, the tv playing in the background while they laughed and talked. for the first time in what felt like ages, y/n allowed herself to feel fully present in the moment. there was no pressure, no expectations—just the comfort of jisung’s presence beside her.  

at some point during the movie, their legs brushed against each other. y/n didn’t move away, and neither did jisung. instead, he shifted closer, his body warm against hers. there was something about the way he did it that made y/n’s pulse quicken. it wasn’t an accident—it was deliberate, and it sent a thrill of excitement through her.  

“jisung,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.  

“yeah?” he turned to look at her, his eyes darkened by the dim light of the tv. there was a heat in his gaze, something that made y/n’s breath catch in her throat.  

“i… i don’t know what this is,” she confessed, her heart pounding against her chest. “but it feels like something is changing.”  

jisung’s eyes softened, his lips parting as if he was about to speak, but before he could, y/n closed the gap between them. she kissed him—softly at first, hesitant, but when jisung didn’t pull away, she deepened the kiss.  

the world around them fell away. all the tension that had been building between them—those stolen glances, those lingering touches, those moments of unspoken understanding—faded into the background. there was only jisung. only the way he kissed her back, his hands tentatively resting on her waist as if afraid that if he moved too quickly, she might slip away.  

y/n didn’t want to pull away. she didn’t want to stop. but the moment was fragile, and she could feel the weight of everything they hadn’t said yet. they broke apart slowly, their foreheads resting together as they breathed deeply, trying to steady themselves.  

“i didn’t think you felt the same,” jisung confessed, his voice low and raw. “i didn’t think you would want to… this.”  

“why wouldn’t i?” y/n whispered, her fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. “i’ve wanted this for so long, jisung.”  

and for the first time in as long as she could remember, everything felt right. the shift in the air wasn’t just a change in how they looked at each other. it was a realization that this moment had been coming for a while—silent, inevitable.  

but jisung didn’t say anything else. instead, he pulled her closer, and this time, when they kissed, it was with the certainty that everything between them had changed.  

unbeknownst to y/n, jisung had been struggling with these feelings for weeks. every time she smiled at him, every time she said his name, he felt like he was crossing an invisible line—a line that, once crossed, couldn’t be undone. but in that moment, with her in his arms, he didn’t care anymore. he had crossed it willingly.  

and for the first time, he was ready to see where it would take them.   

the tension between y/n and jisung had been building steadily, an invisible thread drawing them closer with every passing day. they could no longer pretend it wasn’t there. the way jisung looked at her when she wasn’t looking, the way his touch lingered a little longer than necessary, it was becoming undeniable. it felt as though their friendship had crossed an invisible line—one that neither of them could go back from. but for the first time, it wasn’t a mistake. they wanted this. they needed this. 

yet, as much as y/n felt the pull, she could also sense something shifting in jisung, as if the weight of their unspoken feelings was starting to take its toll on him. there were moments when his usual easygoing demeanor faltered, his gaze lingering on her for just a second too long, and she would feel her stomach tighten. she wasn’t sure whether it was his growing uncertainty or her own, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was bound to happen—something that would force them to confront what was changing between them.

one saturday afternoon, the group gathered for a basketball game at the park. chenle, ever the competitive spirit, was determined to win, while jisung and jaemin were more focused on having fun than scoring points. the weather was perfect for a game—warm with a slight breeze, the air buzzing with energy. 

y/n sat on the sidelines, chatting with haechan and jeno, but her eyes kept drifting to jisung. there was something in the way he played—his movements more deliberate, his focus more intense. he was always good at basketball, but today, he seemed to be more... distracted. and it wasn’t just because of the game. she noticed how his gaze would flicker over to where she was sitting, his eyes lingering on her longer than necessary before he turned his attention back to the game. she wasn’t imagining it. he was looking at her.

but she wasn’t the only one to notice.

during a break in the game, chenle shot a pointed look at jisung. he had seen it—the way his best friend’s attention kept straying toward y/n. he didn’t say anything at first, but the thoughts gnawing at the back of his mind wouldn’t go away. something had shifted between jisung and y/n, something that he couldn’t ignore.  

jisung was sitting on the grass, wiping sweat from his brow, when chenle walked over and dropped down beside him. he didn’t beat around the bush.  

“do you like my sister?” chenle asked bluntly, his eyes scanning jisung’s face with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.  

jisung froze. his heart skipped a beat, and he turned to look at chenle, his mouth suddenly dry. the question hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. jisung opened his mouth to speak, but the words got caught in his throat. his mind raced, and his hands clenched into fists in his lap.  

chenle’s eyes narrowed as jisung stammered, searching for the right thing to say but finding nothing. silence stretched between them, suffocating and loud. chenle wasn’t buying the hesitation.  

“you don’t have to answer that,” chenle added coldly, “your silence is enough.”  

jisung’s stomach twisted in a way that felt like a punch. he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. he hadn’t planned for it to become something real, something he couldn’t ignore. but now, with chenle’s accusatory stare on him, he realized the truth had already been laid bare. he liked y/n—more than just a friend. more than he ever intended to. and the weight of that realization settled on him like a burden.  

“you know, she’s my little sister,” chenle continued, his voice a mix of anger and disappointment. “if i even think you’re trying to cross that line, we’re done. you’re my best friend, jisung, but i won’t let you hurt her. she deserves better than someone who can’t even figure out his own feelings.”  

the words hit jisung like a slap. his chest tightened, and for the first time in a long time, he felt small under chenle’s gaze. he didn’t want to hurt y/n. that was the last thing he wanted. but he also couldn’t ignore what was happening between them, the way he felt when she was near him, the way her smile made his heart race.  

“i’d never hurt her, chenle,” jisung protested, his voice shaking with the weight of his words. “i’m not... i’m not like that.”  

chenle’s expression hardened, his jaw clenching as he stared at jisung. the air between them seemed to crackle with tension. he wanted to believe his friend, but the reality of the situation was undeniable. 

“i don’t care if you think you won’t,” chenle said, his voice low and cutting. “she’s my sister. and i won’t let anyone hurt her. not you, not anyone.”  

jisung’s stomach twisted with guilt. he couldn’t argue with that. he knew how much y/n meant to chenle, and he understood the protective instincts that came with being a big brother. but it was also the truth—he didn’t know what he was feeling, not fully.  

chenle stood up, giving jisung one last, hard look before walking away. jisung stayed frozen for a long moment, his mind racing. his best friend had just given him an ultimatum, and there was no easy way out of this.  

that night, as he lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, jisung knew what he had to do. he couldn’t continue to let things between him and y/n grow, couldn’t risk hurting her or breaking the fragile balance they had. chenle’s words echoed in his mind—she deserves better than someone who can’t even figure out his own feelings.

and jisung realized that maybe he didn’t deserve her. maybe it wasn’t just about what he wanted; it was about what was best for y/n. she deserved someone who could be certain of his feelings, someone who could stand beside her without all the confusion and uncertainty. he wasn’t that person right now.  

the next day, when y/n texted him, asking how he was doing after the game, jisung hesitated before replying. he kept the conversation light, short. he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth, but he knew it had to be done.  

over the following days, he began to distance himself. he didn’t text her as much, didn’t linger during their usual hangouts. he didn’t meet her gaze when she caught him staring, didn’t let his hand brush against hers when they passed each other. every time he saw her, the pain of what he was doing settled deeper in his chest. but he had no choice.  

he couldn’t be the one to hurt her. he couldn’t risk losing his best friend over this, and he couldn’t keep pretending that what was happening between them wasn’t complicating everything.  

so he distanced himself, every touch and every word that had once felt natural now weighed down with the bitter taste of regret. and in the silence between them, he wondered if y/n could feel it too—the space that had opened up between them, a space that neither of them had ever expected to exist.  

but jisung knew it was for the best. even if it hurt. even if it felt like breaking a part of himself.  

and as the days went on, that pain only grew.  

the change in jisung was impossible to ignore. at first, y/n brushed it off. she told herself that he was just busy with school or other things—anything to avoid acknowledging the growing distance between them. but as the days turned into weeks, the absence of his texts, the reluctance to spend time together, and the coldness in his gaze when she caught him looking at her became too much to ignore. it was deliberate. and it hurt in a way that she couldn’t explain.

he wasn’t the same. the jisung who used to laugh at her jokes, the one who would send her random texts just to check in, was slipping away. and with every day that passed, y/n could feel herself slipping away too—into confusion, pain, and a loneliness that gnawed at her insides.

it wasn’t just the lack of communication. it was his avoidance. he no longer sought her out after school, no longer joined her on their usual walks or quiet hangouts. and every time she tried to start a conversation, he would give short, clipped responses and quickly find a reason to leave. it was like he was *purposefully* creating distance, pushing her away.

one evening, the ache of uncertainty became too much. y/n stood outside her house, her phone clutched tightly in her hand, staring at the darkened screen. she had been waiting for his message—for something, anything—but it never came. her frustration and hurt bubbled to the surface, and she knew she couldn’t wait any longer.

when she saw jisung out of their house, down the street, head down, hands in his pockets, her heart skipped. she knew this was her moment—the moment when she would confront him, demand answers.

“jisung!” she called, her voice breaking slightly, and his head snapped up in surprise. his eyes seemed to flicker with something—regret, guilt—but he quickly masked it with a faint, unreadable expression.

“y/n?” his voice was soft, but there was a coldness in his tone, like he was trying to put space between them.

“don’t ‘y/n’ me,” she snapped, her anger and hurt spilling out in the form of a sharp breath. “why are you doing this? why are you avoiding me?”

jisung hesitated for a moment, his gaze darting away from her, clearly uncomfortable. he opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again. y/n wasn’t going to let him off the hook this time. she took a step forward, desperation and confusion written all over her face.

“did i do something wrong?” her voice trembled as the question left her lips, her eyes searching his face for any sign of what was going on inside his head. 

“no,” jisung replied quickly, his words flat. “it’s not you, y/n.”

“then what is it?” she demanded, her chest tightening with the weight of his silence. “because you’re acting like i don’t exist anymore. and it hurts, jisung. it really hurts.”

his eyes met hers then, but they were distant, almost as if he was looking through her rather than at her. the pain in his expression cut through her, but it was too much to bear. she needed to know the truth.

“i’m doing this for you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “and for chenle.”

y/n’s heart sank at the mention of her brother’s name. the words made no sense at first, but slowly, as the pieces fell into place, everything became clear. she took a step back, her breath catching in her throat as the reality of what was happening hit her like a wave.

“for… chenle? this is about him, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice laced with disbelief, her eyes searching his face for any sign of denial.

jisung nodded slowly, the movement almost imperceptible. “he told me to stay away, y/n. and he’s right. i can’t... i shouldn’t feel this way about you. it’s not fair to him. it’s not fair to you.”

y/n’s chest tightened as her throat constricted, the realization dawning on her like a cruel, suffocating weight. she hadn’t imagined it. she hadn’t imagined any of it. jisung had been avoiding her because of chenle—and because of some unspoken, painful truth that he couldn’t bring himself to face. the truth that he had feelings for her. feelings that he couldn’t act on.

tears welled up in her eyes, and she wiped them away angrily, frustrated with herself for breaking down in front of him. she took a shaky step toward him, her voice barely above a whisper.

“but what about what i feel?” she asked, her breath hitching. “don’t i get a say in this?”

jisung’s expression faltered for a moment, as if her words had struck him deep. but he clenched his fists at his sides, the muscles in his jaw tightening. he avoided her gaze as he spoke, his voice low but trembling.

“you deserve someone who can love you without guilt, without hesitation,” he said, his words a quiet plea. “and that’s not me. not anymore.”

the words cut through her like a knife, each syllable a reminder of everything they couldn’t have. y/n took another step toward him, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. she couldn’t let this happen. she couldn’t let him walk away, not without fighting for what they had—what they could have.

“jisung, please,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “don’t do this. i need you. i want you.” 

but jisung was already shaking his head, his eyes downcast. “i’m sorry, y/n,” he murmured, his voice thick with regret. “i can’t.”

with that, he turned away from her, his back to her, his shoulders stiff with the weight of the decision he had just made. y/n stood frozen in place, unable to move as the words—those devastating words—echoed in her mind.

she watched as he walked away from her, every step feeling like a betrayal. each step felt like a piece of her heart was being ripped away, torn by the very person she had thought she could trust the most. 

she wanted to scream. she wanted to run after him, beg him to come back, to explain it all. but she couldn’t. she knew that if she did, it would only make things worse.

instead, she stood there, staring at the empty street where he had disappeared, her tears falling freely now. the world felt impossibly quiet, the weight of the silence settling over her like a heavy fog. 

she had never imagined it would end like this. she had never imagined that the person who had been her closest friend for so long—someone she trusted, someone she loved—could hurt her like this.

and as the minutes stretched on, she finally understood: sometimes love wasn’t enough. sometimes the things you wanted most in the world weren’t the things you could have. and the hardest part was knowing that you couldn’t change it.

and with every step jisung took away from her, y/n felt like she was losing herself in the process.  

masterlist

HEY YALL. first one shot!! very angsty.

ghost written by @narcisstict

[mrghostrat]

some tips for writing flow

i've had a lot of comments complimenting my writing style, most of which don't know how to explain or describe what they like about it. i never really knew either, but i've been paying more attention to the way i write things lately, in the hope of being able to understand and explain it.

a lot of this is "based on feel" with no hard and fast rules, but there's also very tangible techniques you can hopefully work into your own writing, if that makes sense? idk is this anything—

1 - sentence beats, and alternating them.

this is probably the biggest thing in my writing. i've realised my sentences can be measured in beats, based on their length and how many sections they can be broken into. the pattern changes often, and i don't have a concrete rule in how i fill a paragraph (again, i've only just put words to any of this), but it's probably the most important part of my flow. let's have a look:

1 beat: • this is probably the biggest thing in my writing.

2 beats: • i've realised my sentences can be measured in beats • based on their length and how many sections they can be broken into.

3 beats: • the pattern changes often • and i don't have a concrete rule in how i fill a paragraph • but it's probably the most important part of my flow.

it looks like a favour certain patterns, the only real "rule" i use is to construct a paragraph with various beats, and never put two side by side. whenever i'm struggling with my flow, it's usually because i've put two of the same beats next to each other and everything feels either stiff or crowded. i rarely put two side by side, unless it's for specific emphasis.

the other exception are paragraph breaks: these are a pause for breath, and allow us to reset the pattern. i often start and end my paragraphs with single beat sentences, and it doesn't feel like they're running on because there's that lovely breath between them.

2 - short paragraphs

the rule we learn in school is that new paragraphs are for new ideas. convert this to prose, and we can consider "ideas" to include the character's thoughts, new narrative tangents, and physical movement around a scene.

one of my biggest struggles reading "bad" fanfic is when paragraphs are too lumped together. crowley will walk into the bookshop, see aziraphale across the way, wander over to a shelf, select a book, then pour himself a drink all in one big chunk. i can't parse that. there doesn't have to be a new line break for every new action, but grouping the relevant ones together and breaking in between broad motions (i.e. walking across a room, acknowledging a character) can help ease readers through the scene.

paragraphs are a breath, not only for sentence flow, but for processing the action within a story. similarly, purposefully keeping multiple actions confined to a single paragraph can make them feel quicker, while breaking them up into multiple paragraphs will slow down the pacing (even if the amount of detail describing each action is the same). included some examples because i'm struggling to explain this one

3 - mixing metaphors

this might sound less flow related, but i used to struggle with it a lot as a young writer, and paying more attention to it has definitely helped clean up my flow and writing overall.

i love a good analogy, but it can be easy to get carried away, and this can bog down the prose. my personal rule is that i can get silly with my metaphors (see: the mon chéri magnet), but i can only use one at a time. no talking about the magnet in aziraphale's chest and the angel and demon on his shoulder within the same scene.

if i'm getting silly and long winded with a metaphor, i also try to limit the length of it to one or two paragraphs. paragraph 1: set up the metaphor, establish the analogy. paragraph 2: come back to the reality of the scene, then mention the metaphor once more to link it all together. if i'm feeling cheeky, then i mention the metaphor again ONCE in passing, a couple of paragraphs or even chapters later

the magnet was a fun one, because i kind of flipped how i would usually present a metaphor, with the long winded tangent coming last instead of being the set up. and even though i used the metaphor 3 times, it felt like 2 because the set up was really just a planted seed for what i'd be mentioning later in the theatre. referencing the "whispered curse in the dark" also helped tie the scenes together and keep the analogies neat and tidy in our heads

meanwhile i got a little more carried away with the space metaphor in postcards (i feel like there's probably a 4th and maybe even 5th mention during the bookshop scene), but each one was blink-and-you'll-miss-it brief that didn't slog down the prose.

4 - avoiding repetitive pronouns

we're all going to struggle with this, and i don't have a secret hack for avoiding a wall of "he this, he that, he then," and i honestly try not to beat myself up over it too much. but there are two things i check to make sure it's not getting too repetitive:

1. looking within a paragraph

apparently everything revolves around paragraphs and the breath between them lmao. i don't have a strict rule like "use the character's name once per paragraph, then 'he' for the rest" or anything like that, but it's in that kind of vein. i simply pay attention to one paragraph at a time to watch for too much repetition, and if i notice it's been one or two whole blocks without switching from 'he' to a name, i'll chuck one in to break it up.

2. paragraph starters

this is so picky. and i don't know if it does ANYTHING, but it bugs me when i'm writing and i notice every paragraph starts the same way. maybe it has no effect on the flow at all. but i like to make sure my paragraphs aren't starting with the same "he" "he" "he", and that forces me to go back and switch around the pronouns in recent sentences, so the next paragraph can flow on more smoothly.

5 - use interruptions appropriately

edit: sneaking this one in here as a final thought! i just want to mention the use of em-dashes, semicolons, footnotes, and parenthesis mid-sentence. it's common to favour one in particular, but each have spectacular uses and can add miles to the pacing and flow of your prose.

em-dash (—) interruptions, cutting off dialogue— pausing to make a point — like this — in the middle of a sentence.

semicolon (;) helps with making lists and continuing a compound sentence that doesn't really link with 'and' or 'but'; when you want to pause, but a new sentence would break the flow of things.

footnotes (¹) these should be optional additions to the text imo. you should be able to keep reading without looking at the footnotes and not lose an ounce of story. they're additive, not necessary.

parenthesis ( () ) a great way to interrupt yourself (less sharply) than with em-dashes, include longer pieces of information (like what you might put in a footnote, except more crucial to the narrative that you don't want people to miss!) and adding sass (lol) and tone to your prose.

[sammrapp]

CHAPTER TEN: A SECRET UNTOLD

CHAPTER NINE HERE

Her breathing is steady beside me, still tangled with sleep. My hand drifts across the sheets toward the nightstand, fingers closing around the strap of my backpack. It’s stupid—muscle memory, probably. I’m not even sure what I’m looking for. A charger maybe. Lip balm. Something small to do with my hands while the quiet stretches on. I unzip the front pocket. Dig around. The feel of my toothbrush case, gum wrappers, Regina’s pen. While i'm rummaging I tug my backpack closer, and in doing so i reveal a polaroid underneath my bag. I blink at it, confused, and pull it up while I set my backpack down. The image is dark, but I know what I’m looking at instantly. Our hotel room. From the doorway. It’s night in the photo. The lamps are off. The glow comes from the bathroom light—left on, the way I do when Regina sleeps. In the bed closest to the window, two figures. One under the blanket—me. The other sitting beside them, back to the camera, just a silhouette in the dim. Regina. And whoever took it had the door cracked open just enough. Just wide enough. I stare at it for a long moment, not moving. My brain feels like it’s refusing to process. I flip it over. Nothing written on the back. No smudge of fingerprint. No date stamp.

“Regina,” I say, voice thinner than I expect.

She shifts, eyes blinking open. “Mm?”

I hold it up without a word. She sits up fast.

“What the fuck—” She grabs it from me, holding it under the bedside lamp now. Her eyes dart. Her expression doesn’t change—just goes more and more blank the longer she looks.

“That’s from outside,” she says. “That’s—he was inside.”

I nod once. My mouth is dry. I still haven’t fully zipped my backpack. I don’t remember ever taking a polaroid. I didn't.

Regina’s fingers tighten around the print until it creases. She throws the blankets back, already swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

“We’re going to the group,” she says.

I don’t ask if she’s sure. I just follow.

The hallway feels like it stretches out forever, each step feeling longer than the next. the ding of the elevator rings in my ears as I stand by Regina in silence. The elevator comes to a stop and the doors open. And again, I just follow.

The group’s room smells faintly of leftover fries and too-sweet soda. Janis answers the door before we knock—like she was waiting. Damien’s pacing. Gretchen’s on the floor, knees to her chest again. Karen’s sprawled on the bed in gym shorts and a faded hoodie.Regina doesn’t say a word. She just holds up the photo. Damien stops moving. Karen sits up straighter.

“What is that?” Janis asks.

Regina doesn’t blink. “He was in our room.”

Janis crosses the space fast, takes the print gently from Regina’s fingers like she’s afraid to smudge it. She squints at the image under the ceiling light. Her mouth tightens.

“You’re kidding,” Damien mutters. “Tell me that’s a joke.”

“That’s me,” I say quietly. “Sleeping. And Regina. Sitting up. Look at the angle. The door. That’s not from inside. That’s from the threshold.”

Karen’s jaw clenches. “So what—you think he used a spare keycard or something?”

“We don’t know how many times,” Regina says. Her voice is dangerously level. “We don’t even know when this was taken.”

“Check the door logs,” Gretchen says quickly. “You can do that, right? Ask security—”

“They wipe the data after twenty-four hours,” I cut in. “Unless there’s an active incident logged. There wasn’t.”

There’s a long beat of silence.

Then Janis: “So you’re telling me this freak was playing house, creeping in and out of your space like it was normal—and now there’s no record.”

“We don’t even know what else he left,” Regina says. “What he saw. What he touched.”

Karen’s face twists. “I hate this. I want to find him and—”

“He’s gone,” Damien says sharply. “That’s the problem. They checked out. He walked away clean.”

Gretchen murmurs, “Not clean. Just… quiet.”

Regina folds the photo in half. Cleanly. Without flinching. “He wanted us to find it. That’s the only reason it was there.”

She looks around at all of them. Her eyes are blazing, but her mouth is flat. Tired.

“No one breathes a word of this,” she says. “Not unless we decide. Together.”

Janis nods. Karen sighs through her nose. Damien looks down at his shoes like he wants to hit something.

I sigh as i glance around the room, suddenly realizing something, "Where is Cady?"

Janis sighs and Damien speaks up first, "She left not too long after Aaron, said she had to go."

Regina clenches her jaw before opening her mouth for a spilt second then she shuts it again. So, instead, Gretchen asks, “What do we do now?”

I don’t have an answer. Not one that feels real.

“We go back,” Regina says.

“To what?” Karen asks.

Regina doesn’t blink. “To each other.”

We leave without another word.

-

The door clicks shut behind us with a soft finality. Back in our suite, the air feels heavier. Like the photo didn’t just come with us—it settled in here. On the sheets. In the corners. In our chests. Regina tosses her hoodie onto the back of a chair, then crosses to the bed without looking at me. The photo is still in her pocket. She doesn’t take it out. I drop my jacket onto the floor and sink into the desk chair, facing her. The mini fridge hums louder in the quiet than it should. She pulls her phone out and sits cross-legged, screen tilted away. Her thumbs move fast—scrolling or texting, I can’t tell. Then she stops, staring down. Like whatever’s on the screen is stuck. Like she’s stuck. I don’t say anything. Just watch her from across the room. Her face is neutral. Too neutral. I’ve seen Regina furious, and I’ve seen her break, but this blank stillness—is new. She locks her phone, tosses it onto the mattress, and leans back on her hands. She starts to say something—inhales, mouth parting—but nothing comes out. Instead, she exhales and closes her eyes.

“You okay?” I ask, softly.

Her eyelids twitch. “No.”

I nod, even though she can’t see it. “Me neither.”

She opens her eyes. Meets mine. There’s a tightness around them that doesn’t go away when she tries to soften.

“I just…” she starts. “Never mind.”

“What?”

She looks away. Shakes her head like she’s trying to rattle something loose in her skull. I get up and sit on the edge of the bed near her, close enough to feel the warmth of her leg next to mine but not touching yet.

“Regina,” I say. “What is it?”

She doesn’t answer. She just stares at her phone again—like whatever she didn’t say is still living there.

-TEN MINUTES LATER-

We’re both lying down now, the room dipped in low lamplight. The photo stays folded and untouched on the nightstand. I can feel the edges of it—psychically—like it’s radiating heat into the air. Regina’s staring at the ceiling. Not blinking. Her hand rests against the hem of my sleeve but doesn’t move.

“You almost said something earlier,” I murmur.

She doesn’t answer right away. Her voice, when it comes, is low. Measured.

“He left something in my locker. Weeks ago. Maybe longer.”

My breath catches.

“A note?”

She nods once.

“What did it say?”

There’s a pause. Not long. Just long enough to feel it settle between us. Then she says it flatly. Like quoting a curse.

“Only I can love you the way you need. Not Sam.”

It takes a second to register. My name in his mouth. My name in her voice now, repeating him. My stomach flips.

“Jesus.”

“I burned it,” she says. “Didn’t tell anyone. I thought if I didn’t give it air, it’d die.”

“And it didn’t.”

She sits up abruptly, legs swinging over the edge of the bed. Her hands are gripping the edge of the mattress now, hard enough her knuckles go white.

“I didn’t want him in my head,” she says. “Didn’t want him to feel important. I thought—if I told you, it’d scare you. And if I told anyone else, they’d make it a thing. Report it. Stir it. Make it real.”

I sit up slowly behind her. “It was real, though.”

“I know,” she says quietly. “I just didn’t want it to be.”

I reach out, hand resting lightly on her back. “You weren’t protecting him. I get that.”

She leans into the touch, but only a little. Her shoulders still feel braced. Tense. Like if I let go, she’d launch straight into orbit.

“I just keep wondering how long he was watching,” she says. “How much he thought he knew.”

“Long enough to think he could choose for you.”

Regina lets out a short, bitter laugh.

Then, softly, “I never even looked at him that way.”

“I know.”

Her head tilts just enough to rest against my shoulder.

“I should’ve told you.”

“You did. Now.”

We sit there in the low light, both of us half-dressed and half-awake, feeling too many things and saying too few.

But I don’t press her. Not tonight.

Some truths only arrive once you’re ready to carry them.

The silence is longer this time.

She doesn’t apologize. I don’t ask her to.

The photo sits untouched on the nightstand, half-shadowed by the lamp’s dull glow. Beside it, the leather notebook. Still shut. Still heavy with everything we haven’t yet named.

Regina curls under the blanket beside me, her back against my chest. My arm drapes over her waist without thinking, my fingers curling instinctively in the fabric of her shirt. She doesn’t flinch. But she also doesn’t shift closer.

Outside, the hallway’s quiet. No footsteps. No doors. No distant voices.

The kind of quiet that should feel safe.

But it doesn’t.

We lie like that for what feels like hours. Not speaking. Not pretending this feels the same as it did before.

She breathes slow, even. But I know she’s not asleep.

Neither am I.

Eventually, she says it—low, like she’s testing the weight of it in her mouth.

“He thought I belonged to him.”

I whisper back, “You don’t belong to anyone.”

Regina nods once. Doesn’t move otherwise. “That’s what scared him.”

I don’t respond. Not because I don’t agree, but because I’m afraid if I say more, I’ll shatter this quiet we’ve fought so hard to keep intact.

The light stays on.

The photo stays by the notebook on the nightstand.

And we stay like that—together, but not untouched.

Still here.

[elaofarc]

highschoolbf!satoru cannot help but have the biggest crush on you. he knows that it's wrong, well, maybe it's wrong—but he's past beyond that point. whenever a joke is made, his gaze finds you to see if you're laughing. whenever he cannot see you in your usual spot in the garden with your friends, he's just taking a stroll around, definitely not to find you.

and you let him get close, always.

never pushing him away, letting him drag you into the stupidest shit you've ever encountered and handling it like a champ and saving his ass every time.

the weight of his feelings hit satoru during a camp-trip before your graduation. the midsummer night's breeze caresses your skin, your hair, taking and carrying your dizzying sweet scent to satoru, and it fills his lungs fully—he's all too occupied with you to the point where he's closed to anything else. it's sweet, it's addicting, these little moments that feel real, as if this is not a high school adventure but something that has the potential to be real.

yet, given satoru's annoyingly teasing attitude, you've never once suspected that he might have feelings for you—you always think of him as a really close friend who loves to tease you. this shared moment evokes no different ideas even though that whipped gaze of his enticing blue eyes fall heavily on you, capturing you in a sweetly suffocating embrace. you want to ask him what's going on, but you're sure that he'll find a way out of it and just tease you to get on your nerves. he adores that pretty expressions decorating your face.

this is a rare occasion, really, satoru never stays quiet when he has the chance to annoy the shit out of you. unless it's like this, you don't know what it is, but times like this satoru seems... different, almost distracted, unwillingly.

you take a deep, exaggerated breath through your nostrils with that sweet smile plastered all over your pretty face. your features appear to be enhanced by the roaring fire right in the middle of the circle of students, even though shadows of the long, long trees fall on your face, your eyes are able to compete with a clear night sky; adorned with millions of stars, shining brightly in those eyes. "what a rare occasion for me to have the chance to pick on you!" you whisper, wanting to keep the conversation to yourselves. "cat got your tongue, ’toru?"

the way you call his name ignites a flame in the depths of his stomach, making his heart beat a little faster. he always loved the way you said his name, and hearing you speak in that gentle whisper makes his head spin.

the flame from the roaring fire in the center of the group licks at his face and body like a serpent, its light casting a hazy red tint over everything in its path. the warmth it brings is comforting, but the way it dances on your face makes him feel dizzy.

"sorry to disappoint, miss," he murmurs softly. "but nothing's got my tongue."

to hear Satoru calling you miss makes you laugh, a little bit louder than you'd like to let out, one of your hands immediately flying up to cover your mouth. a few heads from the circle turn around to see what you and satoru are up to, but you two have always been like this—lost in a bubble you share with each other, always making time and space for each other even in a crowded setting. to a third eye, it's all easy to read; you two have soft spots for one another, it's just you and satoru who stay blind to this fact.

"aww," you snort. "bummer. i thought i could have some fun," your voice is back to being a whisper, not wanting to draw any attention to the conversation you and satoru are having.

it's always fun and it always feels like a routine whenever you and satoru snicker and have those silly little banters.

the crowd, the laughs and the atmosphere is genuine, but it tires you out pretty easily; you're not the most social one, after all—that's satoru, the social butterfly of your invincible duo. with needy eyes you give a quick call to satoru, and it's easy to read what those pretty eyes of yours say: save me! You clear your throat, clearly wanting to go back to the tent you're forced to share with satoru since he forgot to bring his own. the sudden, gentle tug on his sleeve is enough to get his attention, and as he turns back around to face you, satoru is quickly reminded of why he loves your eyes so much.

he's also glad for the escape opportunity you're offering him, since if he didn't leave the group, he's not sure what the hell he'd even say to you. you're so damn close to him, like you always are, that if he so much as twitched the wrong way, he'd be touching you, really touching you. "don't look at me like that, shithead," you whisper without moving your lips at all, this always makes you look funny, but it's a skill that comes handy during times like these; SOS situations, where satoru has to get you out of overwhelming and overstimulating social interactions, and you saving his ass from whatever the hell he gets himself into.

it's a known fact that you easily find yourself suffocated in large social settings, it leads to a breakdown if anyone pressures you into communicating with them and this, right now, is no different. "get me out of here," you whisper, and the desperation in those eyes almost drips all over to your pretty face. still, your body seems relaxed with satoru being so, so close to you.

"don't call me a shithead," satoru playfully complains, the words slipping effortlessly past his lips. "i'll look at you however i damn well please. you're the one who called me over."

despite his teasing, satoru can see that your behavior isn't just normal shyness. from the way you're speaking without even moving your lips and the tension evident in your muscles, he knows that for some reason, you've reached your limit.

thankfully, he's gotten good at reading your body language.

[olannder]

Random! Creepypasta Headcanons - Part 1

- Zero gave Eyeless Jack her kidney. Willingly.

- Brian loves Tyler, the creator. Change my mind.

- Freddy’s like a dog. He likes chewing on people.

- Nurse Ann is like a mom to a few pastas. She’s also really sassy and tired of everyone’s shit.

- Sally is the scariest and most powerful pasta.

- Puppeteer has wooden arms, so they can come off and/or be put back into place.

- Pretty much everyone steals Jack’s clothes like help wtf.

- Kate once shot Tim in the leg when him and Toby were getting into a serious fight.

- Brian adopted Kate and Toby.

- Skin taker is just the most casual guy ever. He talks and acts like he an adult man with goals in his life and shii.

- Toby and Clockwork hate each other more than anything.

- Lifeless Lucy likes beating tf outta adults…for like no reason either. (She will stalk, hunt, and torture them for the fun of it)

- Puppeteer is the type of person to eat cupcakes with a fucking fork.

- Ann and Diana (Rewrite of judge angels) will just randomly throw hands at like 7 am and wake everyone up from their yelling. (Sadie has had to lecture them about it)

- EJ, Brian, and Puppeteer all know how to play the guitar.

- Crystal can’t be seen by most regular humans unless they are spiritual or very very religious.

- Korbyn and Jeff are like siblings.

- Nancy is like a squirrel or dog with rabies. You can’t stop this girl from doing nothing.

- Kagekao likes pranking and scaring the living shit out of anyone he can.

- Kagekao and Zero b twinning fr fr

- Bloody Painter road rages :3

- Kate likes stalking EJ sometimes to learn more about medical stuff. She also steals some of his supplies when he’s not in the medical room.

- Rouge will do anything to protect the other proxies, because she sees them as her children/siblings. She has great leadership skills, and takes charge of dire situations when she needs to.

- Every 1 week, Nurse Ann selects a trusted pasta/proxy to look after Lulu. It’s usually EJ or Kate. (Inspired by @crushedsweets )

- Lulu is Vietnamese.

- Lulu’s mother figure is nurse Ann, who takes care of her in the old abandoned hospital.

- Dr. Smiley loves to make dad jokes. But no one finds him funny.

- Jason needs anger management, like seriously. He’s also autistic asf.

- Sally loves torturing other pastas, like Toby or Jeff. They’re genuinely scared of her. Especially when they’re alone with her, cause she switches her personality so fast. She goes from a sweet innocent little girl to fucking SATAN.

- The only people Sally treats well is most of all the girls, EJ, LJ, Lost silver, sometimes Ben, Blake, Kagekao, and Brian. (And anyone younger than her physical age, like Oliver.)

- Laughing Jack was the one who found Sally after she killed her uncle.

- Rouge likes pop and electrical music, like cutesy music and stuff. She has a black jeep van and whenever she’s driving, she’ll put on her playlist :3

- Crystal is a sister figure to most of the other younger ghosts.

- Lazari, EJ, and Judge Angel’s backstories all connect with each other.

- Liu is a detective hehehe and Jane is not only a detective but also a government agent.

- Sadie enjoys sitting in fields full of flowers whilst the sun sets.

- Kate absolutely hates the rain.

- Nina has only ever murdered a few people, being a group of people from her high school who would bully her and her brother. She regrets it.

- Papa Grande is high 24/7 and smells like nothing but cigarettes.

- x virus is Colombian and a 16 yo who killed a bunch of kids from his high school that would bully him. He’s a nerd.

That’s all I have for now :3

[dannyphantom1234]

Reborn as Dan Phantom.

A fan of the show is reborn as Dan, the evil version of Danny just as he was created— but what no one knew was a fangirl had taken over the body and knew just what to do to help her family that would suffer what she just went through unless she did something to help. So— she creeped towards Clockwork, stole the time medallion, went to the timeline of the original, and immediately took over as big brother figure to help these poor children from suffering the future they would have to endure alone without adult supervision.

She— now he— didn’t care for gender, and just wanted to help and protect his new(ish) family from bad people. What he didn’t know was he was also thrown alongside the dc universe, which was an awesome discovery on his part later on.

Dan— or Dante— as he wished to be called, came to the group with sorrow in his heart as he explained what would happen in the future if Danny cheated on his test, not that it was anyone’s fault but fates. He explained how no one was at fault and it could all be avoided if he could help it.

He took over the ghost fights, and had a long talk with Clockwork about what would happen and his real purpose for being there.

His original timeline was obviously erased, and the only reason he survived was because of the medallion, so later he had to go through ghost magic and make himself his own person, gained a whole butt load of tattoos intertwined with ghost time magic and becomes the next king of the infinite realms after defeating the old guy easily after seeing him beat up his little bro.

Dante became king instead of Danny and took over all the overloaded paperwork along the way.

What he didn’t know, was that he would be summoned because of his status. He really thought the fan fictions were just exaggerating what would happen if he was ever given the position and power. Well, it was all true from what he read.

(I’m making this a Dante/King Phantom x Jason Todd/Red Hood).

He made an actual legal identity for himself with the help of Technus and Tucker, who became better pals after they set aside the fact that they attacked each other at some point or another.

Danny became a little brother to him, Jazz became his little sister who likes to treat him as if he were still Danny at times, and Danielle became his daughter.

Dante legally adopted Dani after they got his papers in order, and made her an identity as well. Elle was much younger than he remembered, but then again, she was deaged recently and just came back into contact with the group, who couldn’t take care of her because they were still children as well.

Vlad was still a little evil but leveled out after a huge diabolical involving Maddie, their so called mother.

Madeline Fenton had thought her son and daughter conspired with the ghosts and attacked them in their own home, Danny was greatly injured with multiple blast wounds and Jazz suffered a concussion while trying to push him out of the target zones.

Jack had football tackled Madeline and the rest was history.

Vlad had fallen out of love with her after seeing what she did to her own children, and instead got his head out of his butt and realized he was in love with Jack all along.

Jack divorced Madeline, took custody of his kids and decided they should move, all while Vlad made plans to take down GIW with Team Phantom.

Jack and Vlad met him and decided to emotionally adopt Dante as well in their messed up family.

Dante got a job as a mechanic and started his own business in Gotham. Very cliche from all the fanfics he read in his past life but he wanted to do something he knew and loved. He loved fixing things and his side job as the king of the infinite realms was basically being like a father to ghost children while scolding those who thought it was a good idea to attack innocent mortals.

He mainly spent his time raising Danielle. Giving her everything she deserves and making her happy now that his family was safe.

He was randomly summoned by the Justice League who were ready to full on attack him until they saw him reading to his child, not realizing he was summoned until someone cleared their throat. He was literally in his own little bubble, reading his two year old daughter a storybook while holding her against his chest as he floated above the ground, laid back in a relaxed position.

How it would go:

I looked up from the book after feeling a sudden shift in my surroundings, seeing multiple very brightly dressed people in front of me. I glared, shifting completely into my ghost king form while holding my daughter close to my chest. The storybook I was reading had disappeared into a pocket dimension for later, as I had to deal with this madness.

“Who in their right minds would summon the Ghost King? I literally burnt all those summoning books to ash.” I grumbled, and looked down to see Elle had slightly woken up at the sound of my deep voice.

“Dada?” She mumbled, rubbing her right eye as she sat up from my chest.

“It’s alright, Elle,” I rumbled, kissing her forehead as she plopped back down to take her nap again at my reassurance. “We can finish reading time later today.” I murmured to her as she went back to snoozing.

“What do you want, mortals?” I asked nonchalantly.

“Why does the ghost king have a child? And how in the hell are you not attacking us as the books state?” Zatanna asked, looking on at me in shock.

“You willingly want to be attacked after summoning me? That’s idiotic. “ I state, looking bored with their conversation. I still held Elle close, not answering their questions about my child just yet.

“No, a bloody idiot summoned you just as we defeated him as a last defense!” Constantine spat out, looking hysterical.

“Well, sorry to break the news, coward, but the last king was defeated by me after trying to take over the world, he is now locked away in forever sleep until we can find a way to get rid of him completely.” I explained to the coward looking at me in shock on the ground, bruises across his face and the usual weird looking villain costume on him.

I looked around for a quick second before stopping at the Batfam. Who were all here in a more relaxed formation seeing a child in my arms. My favorite fandom family in my last life.

I looked them over before spotting the Red Hood, my celebrity crush I had on him was no secret to my family, but they had no room to judge for themselves.

His aura admitted contaminated ectoplasm, and I knew I had to heal him sometime in the future.

“May I ask what your goals are? And who is this child?” Superman spoke up after a moment of digesting my information about my new position.

“I protect both living and the undead. I don’t have a world ending goal in mind, just to raise my daughter and give her the life she deserves.” I said, looking down at my daughter with a small smile that would be unnoticeable to most.

I looked back up to see the large group had softened at my words and I was about to ask a question about Red Hood, when my daughter suddenly decided this was taking too long and too much noise for her to take a nap.

“Dada! Where puppy?” She demanded answers, smacking the side of my face with her chubby hands, as I floated there, unmoving with an emotionless face towards the group.

“Cujo is with the twerp, remember? He will come by later for playtime.” I answered, which was slightly muffled as she squished my cheeks together and smiled at me happily.

“Dada! Fishh—“ she squealed out, looking happy with herself as she giggled at my face.

“You gremlin—“ I muttered out, tickling her sides as she squeaked, her flying out of my arms and turning into her young ghost form, looking ready to play.

“Playtime?” She asked, bouncing a little in the air, clapping her hands a little.

“Not yet, blob ghost. We need to head back home for snack time.” I explained, crossing my arms as she pouted, my arm muscles bulged a bit as I crossed them, and I still always forget the fact that I’m taller than most, alongside bigger. In my past life, I was a stick of a girl that had spaghetti arms, much different for sure.

Her pouting turned into the famous puppy eyes, and I turned back to the group to avoid them, only to see amused faces all around.

“Do you guys need anything before we head back? I’m sure you don’t want to deal with a Princess tantrum.” I rumbled out, looking on in disinterest as Elle decided to hug the side of my face like an octopus. She probably still had the puppy eyes on.

“You have an adorable daughter!” Princess Diana exclaimed soon after I was finished speaking. “How old is she?” She asked, looking at me curiously as I lowered myself to the ground, Elle now floating behind my head as she played with my low ponytail.

“She is now two years old.” I answered, swiftly nabbing Elle from behind me while reaching the back of my head. I lowered my arms to see I had her upside down now, her hanging like a sack of potatoes as she giggled.

“Dada!” Elle exclaimed, waving her arms around her in glee as she looked up at me.

“You don’t feel like a ghost completely… neither does she, what are you exactly?” Constantine asked, waving his hand at me in confusion.

“I don’t know if I can trust you with that information, Constantine.” I growled a little, glaring at him as he stepped forward while Elle hid behind me.

“Hey now! Let’s calm down, no one needs to start anything!” Nightwing stepped in front of the glaring Constantine who looked more and more like a bug the longer I looked at him.

“There isn’t anything to start, really. His soul is in shreds at the moment, not very powerful compared to my kind anyway.” I stated, crossing my arms once again as Elle peaked out from over my shoulder.

“Now, I need to speak with a Mr. Red Hood.” I said, looking on at the Batfam who tensed at my words.

“Why?” Batman growled out, stepping in front of the confused Red Hood.

“To heal him, of course.” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I heard sounds of confusion from everyone else.

“His ectoplasm is very corrupted. He has the ghost flu, in which case makes my kind very moody and in need of pure ectoplasm to filter it and his emotions.” I briefly explained, unpinching my nose as I looked up from the ground. Willing my headache away for now.

“So his pit madness is basically the ghost flu?” Red Robin murmurs out hysterically, almost giggling in disbelief.

“Yes, I have heard of his haunt, Crime Alley, that being under his protection, I have never stepped foot on his property because I didn’t want to seem like a threat to a sick person who can’t control themselves completely with such a sickness.” I explained myself a bit nervously, rubbing the back of my neck a little with my right hand as Elle now sat on my left shoulder, swinging her legs.

“Wow, the ghost king is a dork…” I heard Spoiler mutter to Orphan, who nodded in agreement.

I huffed, crossing my arms and floated once again. “I can come back another time. I just wished to help a little. My doctor can probably fix him quicker than I, but I know what to do as I have studied under him for more than over a year now.” I informed them.

“So the pit madness can go away…?” Red Hood asked, stepping from around Batman to speak to me clearly.

“I’m unsure of what this “Pit Madness” is, but yes, I can heal you and make sure you properly get the help you need from your emotional roller coaster sickness.” I said, looking down at him as he took a few more steps to me, his family following behind him.

“Well, when can you fix me?” He asked, his voice modifier cutting all emotions from his voice, but I can clearly feel his emotions bursting from his almost formed core. It seems this sickness had stopped him from forming his core completely and left him sick for many years.

I could feel his hope, his rage and especially his bursts of want for some reason.

“I can fix you right now, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted privacy or not. It’s very…. Intimate. I can take you somewhere private if you would like?” I rumbled out, the burst of want came out more clearly, and I could tell Red Hood was clearly not expecting that word choice.

“Take me anytime—“ I could clearly hear his muttered out answer behind his helmet with my enhanced hearing, but I don’t know if I was supposed to hear that.

“Nope! Little Wing— you are not going with the ghost king—“ Nightwing suddenly yelled out, the whites of his mask bigger as Spoiler, Red Robin, and Signal burst into loud laughter. Batman sighed loudly in disappointment. Robin just “Tt” and sighed alongside his father, looking like a mini bat. Orphan just smiled at me.

“By intimate, I mean having a look at your soul, I will essentially have to take a closer look at that and cure you.” I fixed my words, making it seem as if I didn’t hear anything and I could feel a little disappointment coming from Red Hood but he nodded at my explanation.

[amore-reads16]

Liam Mairi x fem reader

Overview- Liam and Y/N have been spending a lot of time together over the past few months and feelings between the pair have developed deeply however there is a betrayal under the surface that is uncovered leaving only heart break behind.

Note- okay so this is and idea that came to me and is meant to be like the turning point of an enemies to lovers story where the protagonist has been betrayed and finds out so mainly the feelings of hurt and betrayal. So yeah have fun with that one if you can! Also listening to I love you I’m sorry by Gracie Abrams might set the tone…

Liam had been missing from dinner which was strange as he always made time to sit next to you even if it was to talk about trivial things. Even though you had only begun properly getting to know each other five months ago there had not been one day where you had not seen to him, spoken to him, laughed with him and for the last few months exchanged and sneaked kisses in the hallway away from prying eyes. So for Liam to be missing from your side tonight was beyond weird. In fact he always was by your side you suddenly thought. Strange how one person can go from not knowing another to being completely and utterly consumed by them. It was a feeling you had tried not to become dependant on but the strange feeling in your stomach told you that you had failed miserably at that task.

After finishing dinner and having seen everyone else, including your friends and brother leave, you knew something wasn’t right. Something was out of place. It wasn’t just Liam missing from dinner you had observed. His friends had also been absent including Xeden Riorson, which yes was nothing new, but tonight was different- they were all gone. Finally picking yourself up from the bench you had been sitting at hopefully and wistfully waiting for the blond haired, bright eyed boy to stroll by in the cocky, childish way he usually did, you quietly exit to dining room.

Wrapped up in your thoughts you suddenly realise that your body has taken you to the outskirts of the building to a small garden that Liam often took you to- a place he called his ‘secret little spot, away from nosey people’. However it must not be that secret you think as you catch a glimpse of five hooded figures, some in incredibly tall and one shorter signalling a mix of men and women within the group. Using the stealth you have fostered from years of sneaking around your family home as a child, you creep around the corner within earshot of the group hiding in the dark shadows the crevice provided, curiosity taking over your mind. The voices are muffled of course, but there is one distinctive boyish voice that stands out. A voice that often soothed you and whispered sweet nothings in your ear now sounded serious, concerned and ultimately regretful.

“She’s different to what you think Xaden” so Xaden is one of the hooded figures, you think, makes sense.

“Liam, I couldn’t care less if she is an angel sent from the heavens herself- she’s dangerous. To us. To everything we’ve been working for.” Xaden replies. Who is she?

“So what? We just kill her? She’s innocent Xaden” Liam responds angrily. That tone is a tone you have only heard a couple of times. Never directed at you of course unless you do something stupid that puts you in harms way. Istead that tone is used towards people that disrespect you, sexualise you, try to hurt you.

Xaden tuts and lets out a short breath “don’t tell me Mairi that you’ve actually fallen for this girl.” Suddenly the identity of this girl is becoming clearer unless Liam has been cheating on you, which would be extremely out of character, this mystery girl the cloaked figures have gathered to discuss is indeed you.

Liam pauses for a long moment before answering and you swear you can hear your heart beat in your chest so loudly it will give your identity away. “No. Of course not” he eventually replies.

Heart ache consumes your body. Although you have never told Liam you love him and he has never uttered those three words to you, you have felt it. You have felt how much you love him and in return how much he loves you. And that had been enough for you. But now hearing him deny the affection you was sure he felt, your heart felt like it had been crushed under your own dragon’s foot.

“Her signet is just as dangerous as Aetos’. She is a valuable weapon for them, one they will never let go. Liam you know who her parents are. Her dad cut half of us down during the rebellion and her mother was the greatest healer of all time and it seems she is set to follow in her foot steps. Are you sure her signet is healing?” Xaden asks

“Yes. I have seen it. It is impressive but not at its full potential yet. She told me that she has been advised that is will manifest even deeper and only grow stronger. With the right training she will be able to heal a body that is on the brink of death” Liam says in a quieter voice then he used before- he almost sounds defeated you think as you refuse the sudden urge to scoop him into your arms and comfort him. Comfort the man who has just betrayed you and your secret. The man who has just signed your death sentence.

“She can’t ever expand her powers. It is too dangerous to have her running around healing everyone we try and take down. We will never win when the number of us decreases and theirs stay the same” another voice speaks and you immediately recognise it as Imogen’s. She has always hated you. You have always been able to sense it, see it in her eyes. Not that you blame her. Your dad killed a significant number of their people before he was killed himself, and your mother did nothing to help. She could have healed them all but yet she didn’t and kept on healing the men and women on the other ‘right side’ of the rebellion as your father used to quote to you.

“Liam you need to gather more information from her before we take her down. We need to know more about Aetos. They are still training together?” Garrick asks. So this is where they all were you think, instead of eating pie they were plotting your downfall. Liam was plotting your downfall. Betrayal curses down your spine. The heart break that had initially struck you has now been transformed into anger. Pure loathing anger. You gave your heart to that boy, you have everything up for that boy, and he used you. For information, for knowledge, for the secret you were swore to protect but gave away so easily to a pretty smile and twinkling eyes. Pathetic. You have been pathetic. But no longer you think.

“Yes they train every-“ he begins but you have had enough. Even if it gets you killed you cannot bear to sit here in the shadows, like a coward, another moment longer. Standing up Xaden immediately notices the movement.

“Shit. Shut up” he commands

“No need” you reply “I’ve heard everything” you emerge from the shadows that just before kept you hidden in your heart break. The anger you feel in this moment is a feeling you think you will never forget. To have loved someone and then been stabbed in the back by the same hands that held you at night. To have trusted in someone so profoundly only for your trust to have been built on lies and deceit. To have sacrificed your families beliefs, honour and status only to have them proven right and you painted as the naive love struck girl. It was sickening. It was transforming. Love turned into a bitter gall of hatred.

Storming up to the group, dagger in your hand, the faces of the cloaked figures run towards you but you can only focus on Liam’s surprised, hurt eyes. His mouth is agape and he somehow despite his betrayal looks guilt stricken. “Y/N please, I can explain” he pleads with his hands but you are not giving in.

“Keep your nerves quick one!” Rhella, your dragon encourages, as you focus on your movements ducking out of the way as Bodhi tries to restrain you followed by Imogen who you elbow swiftly in the windpipe chocking her causing her to fall to the floor gasping for breath. But that doesn’t matter as you have swiftly reached Liam and without hesitation you raise your dagger to his throat. Your breath is heavy. Your eyes are wild with anger. Your breath is ragged.

“Please let me explain Y/N” Liam says again

“NO!” You yell back and press the dagger harder drawing the slightest bit of blood. Perhaps you might have drawn more if it hadn’t been for Xaden’s shadows flinging the dagger from your fingers and Garrick restraining you whilst the others watch in shock.

Squirming in Garrick’s arms you try and wriggle free but it is no use, he has both your arms locked, and you suddenly begin debating if these will be your last moments on earth.

“Jesus Christ you came out of no where” Bodhi mutters helping a still winded Imogen up who has already set a deadly glare on you. Not that you care. She is the least of your concerns at the moment.

“Fuck” Xaden mutters as he places a hand on his head and begins to pace as if thinking very deeply.

“Let me go you fucker” you yell at Garrick.

“Shut your mouth” Xaden storms over to you grabbing your chin in his strong hand causing your mouth to shut immediately as he commanded.

“Xaden” Liam interrupts in a harsh tone almost as if he is warning him.

“Liam I think it’s best you leave” Xaden says in a low deadly voice making you shudder.

“No” Liam bluntly says causing Xaden to turn around still holding your chin strongly. “I mean- no I’m not leaving you to kill her in the middle of the bloody school. Do you know what kind of message that will send? They will know it was one of us or at least blame us for ease. We are done if you kill her now and you know it.” He says convincingly but the way Liam just coldly bargained for your survival without any compassion for you or your life causes a tear to roll down your face. He want a you alive to save their own treacherous necks. Not because he loves you and can’t bear to be in the world without you. Fucker.

“Well what do I do with her now then Liam ? She knows too much” Xaden says

Liam sighs and groans “just- just all of you go and leave her with me I can talk to her, make sure she keeps this a secret.”

Imogen lets out a shrill strangled laugh “and HOW are you going to do that Mairi? She won’t trust a word you fucking say now”

You let out a grunt in agreement to that statement causing all eyes to fall back on you. Usually Liam’s eyes are the only ones you meet however the darkness in Xaden’s are hard to look away from in this moment. He wants you dead, that much is clear, and you aren’t sure he is going to let you leave this garden without claiming your life.

“I’m going to talk to her Imogen. We clearly can’t kill her now” we is the word that stabs you “so we will have to keep her alive and on our side” Liam angrily explains finally walking forward to where you stand putting his body only a few inches from yours where Xaden still stands manhandling you. “Let her go” he tells Xaden. Xaden looks reluctant but lets go. The relief to have his strong hands off you is unmatched, and you are sure your jaw will be deeply bruised from the strength of his grip.

“Leave everyone” Xaden commands and although the rest seem reluctant to go they do. Clearly Xaden is their leader. Now only Liam, Xaden and Garrick, who is still restraining you, remains.

“Listen and listen closely” Xaden whispers “you will not utter a word of this to anyone. You will not let anyone know we are aware of your signet and you will not tell anyone what you saw or heard tonight” he explains blandly as if it was that simple.

“And if I do not comply” you practically spit at him.

“I will personally kill your brother. Jude is it? He seems sweet, naive much like you, but kind and caring. I will crush him with my shadows and rip his soul out of him” Xaden says- no hint of any emotion on his face making his words more haunting. “Do you understand me?”

Water swells in your eyes as you quickly spare a glance at Liam who looks mortified. How dare he? This is your life, your brother’s life that is at risk not his.

“Yes” you whisper.

“Yes what?” Xaden demands.

“Yes Riorson I understand and I will not utter a word to this to anyone” you reply.

“Brilliant-“

“On one condition” you add.

Xaden laughs but it is not humoured. It is bitter and hateful. “You aren’t exactly in the position to be making demands Y/LN” he grabs your chin again causing Liam to finally interfere somehow pushing his hand away.

“Enough Xaden” he says in a tone so demanding and sure it frightens you. “What is it you ask Y/N” Liam asks you.

You look into his eyes hoping to see some glimmer of what you used to see- love, admiration, respect. But there is only desperation. Desperation for you to not anger Xaden further.

“You must promise that you will not harm my brother nor me. You will let us both live despite whatever vendetta you unjustifiably have against me as an individual. I am not my family. I am my own person with the right to prove all of you fuckers wrong. Let me live and leave my brother be” you ask Xaden avoiding Liam’s penetrating gaze at all costs. To look into his eyes now would be to cry and look weak in front of the shadow lord in front of you- being weak will get you killed. So you keep your gaze strong, focused and unfaltering.

“Deal” Xaden agrees “but if you break this deal your brother will die and you will watch. Once you have processed your grief I will kill you also” he says plainly before signalling to Garrick to let you go which he does immediately.

“You have ten minutes then you both need to leave before we all get caught” Xaden says to Liam as him and Garrick turn around walking back inside not sparing you another glance, like you have now become worthless to them.

It is now just you and Liam. You and the backstabber. The silence is deafening and makes you want to cry. Liam sighs and attempts to reach for you but you step back wrapping your arms around your body as if to shelter yourself from anymore hurt he could inflict.

“Y/N” he says softly.

“Please Liam spare me your lies” you say, your voice raw and full of emotion.

“You don’t understand. I had to. Xaden needed the information and at first you didn’t mean anything to me but as time went on I started to like you and then I started to catch feelin-“

“Stop” you cut him off meeting his desperate gaze “don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare stand there and tell me that you felt anything for me whilst betraying me and lining me up like a pig to slaughter”

“I don’t want you dead!” He shouts “I never did! I- I- I love you for gods sake! I love you and don’t want you dead” he yells loudly.

You still. He has never said that to you. “It is amazing the lengths you will go to keep my mouth shut” you reply coldly “if you ever loved me you would have never have done this to me. Love shouldn’t include betrayal and you have betrayed me in the worst way possible.”

“You think I wanted this? Wanted to lie to you? To seduce you? To make you trust me? To fall hopelessly in love with you? I didn’t! But it happened and it’s real! I would have NEVER of let them kill you. You must know this” Liam sobs, he actually fucking sobs.

“I know nothing.” You say numbly “Infact that is a lie I do know this, I know that I now regret every moment spent with you, every word I spoke to you, every kiss I gave you, every night I let you have my body. I know that I hate you Liam and will never forgive you for this. I know that if you so much as look in my direction again I will not hesitate to kill you, consequences be damned. I know that I loved you and now I detest your existence” you deliver the lines with such confidence that you almost believe them yourself. Tears that you once shed have already dried on your face and your body feels heavy ready to collapse at any moment but you know you must stay strong.

“You don’t mean that” lean chocks out. Trying to come closer to you but you just step further away

“Get out of there quick one before you take back every word you have just said” Rhella warns and you heed.

“But I do” a hateful smile falls on your face “you fuck yourself Mairi” you say as you turn around ignoring Liam calling your name over and over. The last sound you hear his him sobbing and a thud that sounds a lot like a body collapsing to the floor as you speed walk to your room.

Making sure no one is lurking in the halls ready to rip you to shreds means it takes longer to get to your room but eventually you get there collapsing on the floor immediately as you shut the door. Your room still smells of him making it harder to breathe. Funny, you think, not only 24 hours ago the man you loved led in the bed in front of you and now that bed is empty alongside your heart. Only one thought manages to keep you going as you prepare for bed.

‘I will kill Liam Mairi if it is the last thing I fucking do’

[kissingfinelines]

High School! Nanami headcanons

(ac: mineco000 on twt!)

(emo nanami x gn! reader)

A/N: If no one else is gonna pump out emo kento content ig I’ll do it :/

Gets teased constantly about being emo (mainly by his peers Gojo, Geto, Haibara, etc.) It’s all in good fun and it doesn’t really get to him but when he catches feelings for you it makes him wonder if he’d be your type.

He wonders if you’d like boys like him because he’s noticed that outgoing fun guys like Gojo are typically seen as more attractive.

You’re oblivious to his crush on you because he’s always quiet unless he has something worth saying. But Haibara noticed immediately because…

Nanami is usually quiet but does small gestures that show his true feelings towards someone. Like whenever you talk Nanami gives you his full attention but when you look at him he immediately turns away and just nods. Haibara notices this and giggles about it.

YU HAIBARA NUMBER #1 WINGMAN

He’s always telling Nanami to shoot his shot w you!

H: “C’mon I’ll set up a date and everything! We could go to a cafe [as a group of 3] but then I’ll lie and say I left my stove on or something. Then I’ll leave and it would just be the two of you!”

Nanami says it’s the stupidest idea he’s ever heard (but he considers it for days.)

He doesn’t try to flirt with you because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable (but he practices what to say to you in the mirror and Haibara caught him one time 💀)

NK: “So um, Y/N, what… kind of music do you like?” He mumbles to the mirror, awkwardly fixing his hair. He tries to imagine your response in his head.

“Oh, I love the same music as you, Ken! Take me to a concert so we can rave and make out!” Haibara teases from the doorway, making his voice high pitched. He wraps his arms around himself and makes kissing sounds.

Nanami threw a pillow at him and jumped him.

But when he is alone with you…

For example, if it’s just you two on a mission, he’ll try to make small talk even though he hates it.

He’ll bring up anything he knows you like (shows, movies, music, etc.) because even if he knows nothing about it, he likes watching the way you light up when you talk about your interest.

If you’re walking next to each other and your hands touch he won’t visibly react but he will scream internally.

If you flirt with him even as a joke, he won’t know how to react and he will blush like crazy. His face will be so red you’ll ask if he’s having an allergic reaction.

Constantly fights the urge to look at any part of you

Finally confessing…

If you confess first:

He’ll ask if you’re joking. Even if you confirm that you’re not, he’ll ask 10 more times.

He’ll start to smile but quickly cover the corner of his mouth with the neck of his uniform jacket.

He finally makes eye contact with you and softly says “I like you too.”

He’d like to kiss you on the spot, but thinks it’d be more romantic to wait for the first date.

Instead, he asks to hold your hand. When you accept, he holds it tightly, wondering how he got so lucky.

If he confesses first…

It would probably be after a long mission. It’s late at night and you’re both pretty beat.

You’d be covered in scratches and cuts, bleeding lightly. But to Nanami, you’re still the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

Without thinking, he’d reach forward and wipe a drop of blood from your chin.

When you ask him why he did that, he’d just shrug and give a small tired smile. He’s usually stoic, but how could he not smile after a job well done?

And in all honesty, he’s just glad he didn’t lose you.

It’s late and you’re both exhausted, so he suggests going to a local bakery he loves and insists that he’ll pay.

It doesn’t matter if you order a pastry or a sandwich, he’s happy to treat you.

On the walk back to campus, he watches as you eagerly chow down on whatever he bought you. He decides to use whatever adrenaline he has left to confess his feelings for you.

NK: “Hey, there’s something that’s… been on my mind for a while. I’ve tried to ignore it but, it’s pretty difficult to do when it’s about someone like you.”

He rambles on how about how much he likes you. His words sound like a poet but they’re basically verbatim with the lyrics of his favorite song.

Once he’s done he goes quiet and looks at you. “So… what do you think? I don’t expect you to feel the same, but if you do…”

When you tell him you feel the same, his knees go weak. He can’t even believe the words you’re saying.

“I’ve always liked you, Kento.” You laugh, placing a hand on his arm.

“You’re lying.” Nanami’s eyes are wide with surprise.

“I’m not, I swear! I thought I made it obvious. Even Haibara noticed.”

“He what.”