#watching it like we did before on the projector

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

5 Times You Are Not Dating Bucky Barnes (and the one time you are) | Bucky Barnes x Reader | One shot - 2.6k words |

You're sick of saying it, Bucky is not your boyfriend, you are not dating you're just friends. Until...

Warnings: 18+ for some canon typical violence and for Sam and Joaquin being pains in the arse (affectionate). Friends to lovers vibes, idiots in love, dating but not dating.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics & @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

1

Bucky Barnes is not your boyfriend.

At least once a day these words come out of your mouth in some form and it's becoming so frequent now that you're considering just recording yourself and playing it back on your phone.

Colleagues, partners in the field, friends.

Not a couple.

Not dating.

"Did you hear that, Wilson? She said —"

"Yeah, yeah, sure."

Sam rolled his eyes at Bucky, sighing dramatically in a way that only Sam is really allowed to get away with. Bucky hadn't taken his eyes from your laptop screen or the secure file you were scrolling through.

"Look awful close though."

You looked up this time, the top of your head brushing Bucky's cheek, his breath was warm against your own and the contrast between his exhale and the cold glass of the table gave you goosebumps.

"We're reviewing the data Joaquin sent us, what do you want us to do?" You snapped, scrolling to the next page of mind numbingly boring KPIs and MIs. Just your luck to get the management files and nothing juicy.

"Perhaps you could use the projector?" Sam clicked a button on the table and the details on your screen lit up the plain, white wall of the conference room.

Embarrassed heat flared up your spine and you shivered.

"Not very secure though, is it, Captain?" Bucky picked up the remote and switched the projector off, his eyes on the laptop screen.

The plastic of your chair squeaked as he tightened his hold on it, and the door slammed shut behind Sam.

2

You followed your nose from the cool darkness of the operations room to the open living area. Tedious as it was to be stationed in the middle of nowhere for recon, you couldn't fault the accommodation, it was almost like being on holiday, apart from the gruelling shifts staring at monitors every day.

Somewhere further along the corridor the sound of good-natured arguing grew louder, Bucky's voice rising above the others and warning them not to disturb you. There was a brief pause before you heard Sam and Joaquin start laughing and Bucky's heavy sigh.

"Morning," you gave a small sleepy smile to the assembled team. Joaquin smiled back, raising his coffee cup in greeting. Sam grinned and you knew instantly that there was something going on. "What now?" You sighed, sending both men in to fits of laughter.

Bucky handed you a cup of tea and bowl of yogurt and granola, a handful of blueberries and raspberries on top.

"Thanks, I'm starving." You bumped his hip as you wandered past to join your teammates at the kitchen island and earned yourself a rare smile.

"What've you got there?" Sam asked, peering into your bowl.

"Usual," you mumbled, sipping your tea. Perfect.

"Uh huh, the usual." He looked up at Bucky, whose face was slowly turning the same colour as the raspberries.

"Can I have some yoghurt, Bucky?" Joaquin asked, innocently.

"Nope." Bucky said, watching you take the first bite and allowing the corner of his mouth to turn up in a smile when yours did.

"Oh, did we run out?"

"Nope."

Bucky put the almost full pot back into the fridge, fixed his coffee and sat down too, shuffling his stool a little closer to you. His hair was still a little damp and you could smell the familiar scent of his shampoo, his bare arm bumping against yours as he took a sip of coffee.

Sam and Joaquin emptied out the last of their coffees into the sink and slunk away, whispering and laughing conspiratorially about "special treatment for girlfriends."

Bucky was, as usual, ignoring them and flipping through a week old newspaper and sipping his coffee. He caught you watching and gave you a mock glare, nothing like the hard stare he'd given Sam and Joaquín earlier.

Then he turned the pages slightly so you could see and you let your head rest on his shoulder, still sipping your tea.

3

"I'm sorry, okay, please stop giving me the cold shoulder." Sam followed after you as you picked your way back to the jet, trying to catch up so you could walk together.

"Absolutely not, I want to be angry for at least two more hours." You grouched, squeezing water from your tactical gear.

"C'mon, it's a little funny," Joaquin laughed, taking up space on your other side.

"Fuck off, Torres, if you had fish swimming in your tac suit you'd be mad too. "

Bucky met you at the cargo door, towel in hand and glaring at your team mates.

"Hell happened to you lot? And why are there fish in your suit?" He scanned you all quickly for serious damage, but it was just your ego that was bruised really.

"Someone, told me it was totally safe to cross this rickety fucking bridge back there," you scowled again.

It really wasn't Sam's fault, it looked perfectly safe or you wouldn't have started to cross, but it was clearly rigged to fall and that's exactly what you'd done, straight into the stagnant water below.

In their gear Sam and Joaquin had been fine. You, on the other hand, had been soaked from head to toe.

"Let's get you in something clean and dry," Bucky gently ushered you into the cool darkness of the jet, soothing your embarrassment with his own stories and wiping mud from the back of your neck as if it was an everyday occurrence.

"I don't think there's anything left in my locker after we got caught in that storm a few weeks back." Embarrassment made your skin itchy and your blood cold. You had spare underwear, maybe, at best.

"Don't worry," Bucky put his back to the door of the small bathroom while you stripped off your dirty clothes inside, "I've got something."

When you reappeared fifteen minutes later, cleaner, dryer, it was in a pair of Bucky's spare sweat pants and the black t-shirt he'd been wearing.

Joaquin raised his eyes but made the decision not to comment and incur your wrath any further.

Sam, on the other hand, chose to tease Bucky instead, their arguing bouncing around the jet while you tried to get comfy on the thin flight seats.

"Got your territory all marked then, Barnes?" He laughed, eyes darting between the two of you.

"Don't know what you're on about, Wilson." Bucky snapped back.

"She's in your clothes, couldn't find any spares? Nothing of mine of Joaquin's back there? You're getting more possessive." Sam shot you a look, "you need to tell him to fuck off."

"I'm good, Sam, thanks for your concern."

"Ahh so you are —"

"We're not dating!" You shouted in unison.

Which only made Sam and Joaquín laugh harder.

It was okay though, you were safe again now and, snuggling deeper into the body warmth of Bucky's t-shirt and definitely a lot less angry than you had been, you really felt safe too. How could you feel any other kind of way, when you could smell his body wash, when he had dried your face so carefully and helped you into your clean clothes.

He looked over at you, eyes still checking for injuries.

"You okay over there? Warm enough?" You nodded and he nodded back, smiling.

4

Joaquin woke with a jolt when the plane hit turbulence, there was a crick in his neck and a sore muscle in his back screaming for a soft bed and his favourite pillow. But no such luck, just an army evac in the dead of night.

Beside him Sam had spread out a blanket and his jacket on the floor, using his rucksack as a pillow and snoring soundly. He could always sleep anywhere, you all could, especially after the day you'd had.

Bucky had taken up a spot sat on the floor like Sam, but with his back to the thin benches, his pack holding up his head. In the gloom he could see Bucky's left arm rigidly holding his body up, elbow locked, because on the right you were leaning into him. His arm was around your shoulders and you'd curled your body into his, pressing into his side, face tucked into his neck and hand under his shirt.

The plane rattled again and Bucky blinked one eye open, his body still as he scanned around quickly before locking eyes with Joaquin.

"You two comfy?" Joaquin whispered and Bucky scowled back. He'd expected Bucky to push you away, but instead he tugged you closer.

Joaquin made a tiny heart shape with his fingers and then mimed kissing.

Bucky flicked up his middle finger and then closed his eyes.

5

"So, Playboy, got any plans tonight," Sam asked, scuffing Joaquin on the back of the head while you pulled your bag out of the gym lockers.

It'd been a long day and you couldn't wait to order a ridiculous amount of food, put your pyjamas on and forget the world existed.

"You know me, Sam. Keepin' my options open." The younger man grinned back.

"Lotta fingers in a lotta pies, have you Torres?" You snickered.

Bucky shut his locker with a slam. "Don't be crude," he grouched, but you saw the way he smiled when he rolled his eyes.

"Something like that," Joaquin shrugged.

"What about you man, hot date?" Joaquin asked,

"Nah," Sam turned away and Joaquin finished towelling his wet hair and started digging his clothes from his bag before wandering off for some privacy.

You slid your trainers back on, tucking your boots in your locker and wondering why they were both suddenly so interested in each other's dating life.

"Not even Leila," you needled, breaking the silence and poking him in the side.

"What's it got to do with you anyway? You seeing anyone tonight?"

"Nope, just me and some Chinese takeout tonight, maybe a little flirt with Netflix," Sam gave you a slightly sad look, but what did you care, it wasn't the only Friday night that would ever happen and you were exhausted.

"I was going to get noodles, do you want to come back to mine, we can split an order?" Bucky asked, fishing his keys from his gym bag and nodding his head towards the door.

"Ohh yes as long as we can get dumplings."

"Obviously we're getting dumplings."

"And maybe fried rice?"

"Rice and noodles?"

"You get one, I'll get the other, we'll split it."

"Fine."

"Shall I follow you —"

"Leave your car by the hanger, I'll drive you back in tomorrow."

"Perfect, let's grab a bottle of wine from the store on the way back."

Bucky groaned, holding the door open for you, "how many times have I said, the only acceptable drink with Chinese takeout is Tsingtao."

The door shut as Joaquin rounded the lockers again, a confused look on his face."Do they know it's Valentines Day?"

Sam laughed, "I don't think so but I can't wait to see their faces tomorrow when they figure it out."

+1

"I've got him, Bucky, you watch the trucks?" You put your sight back to your eye, shuffling your shoulders, settling lower into the ground, you breathed deeply as you prepared to take the shot.

"You'll give away your position, you're too close, fall back." Bucky's voice was surprisingly frantic in your ear.

"Quiet, please. I can do this."

"Leave her, Buck, she's got this."

"Cap's right, gotta have a little faith."

"It's too risky —"

You turned your comm off. You'd been watching this gang for weeks hoping to catch them in the act and you had the perfect chance.

Sam and Joaquin had been leading your infiltration of their den and everything had been going swimmingly — until their leader had walked out and thrown everything into chaos.

You caught the kickback from your rifle with practised ease, your aim perfect, the apparent leader of the group crumpled to the ground, bleeding from his now shattered kneecap. Nothing fatal, you wanted to see him on the stand as did the rest of the team.

You touched your ear piece again ready to gloat about your excellent hit but Bucky's panicked voice found you instead.

"Run, I'm coming but you've gotta run, go —go! Why aren't you going!"

You turned, surrounded by three armed guards, and did the only thing you could do. Fight back.

This wasn't the best time for close quarters combat, but you needed time to reach your handgun or your dagger or something.

Dodging around you gained enough time to slip a knife from your thigh holster.

"I've got it, Buck. Go to Sam."

"No you fucking haven't."

Your arm moved, swiping at your first assailant and leaving a splatter of blood behind. Still low you lurched for the second man's legs, jabbing upwards as he bent down to you. The blade pierced the top of his thigh and blood gushed out as you twisted your wrist and tugged.

"Don't kill anyone." Sam admonished.

But you were too focused to care. The third guard was huge, broad and carrying a knife to match. But it was the gun pointed at your temple that had your heart pounding.

"Put the gun down little lady, we don't want any more messes for you to clean up." The man leered forward, pressing the hot muzzle of the gun into your skin.

"Fuck off." You spat back.

He bent closer, sliding his dagger back into its holster, giving him a free hand to pinch your cheeks. "Such a dirty mouth, what will I do with you."

"She said, fuck off."

The man looked blank, turning his head to find Bucky towering over him gun pressed to his back.

"You okay?" He asked, glancing at you quickly.

"Fine."

"You're a lucky bastard today." Bucky pulled the trigger and you closed your eyes against the spray.

The man shouted, clutching at his shoulder where blood was pouring between his fingers, the wound wider at the front.

"How's that lucky, Bucky?" You chastised, brushing leaves and dirt from your tactical suit and grabbing your rifle.

"If you were hurt, I'd have shot him in the head." He answered, simply, and you felt yourself go hot all over at the thought of what he'd do for you.

Sam and Joaquin landed behind you and rushed forwards.

"We heard more shots, is everyone okay? — What the hell guys I said minimal damage." Sam groaned.

"Would've been easier if someone—" Bucky looked at you, "had left their comms on and run when I'd said."

You rolled your eyes, "I was fine, look." All three patrol guards lay bleeding on the ground.

"That guy had a gun to your head, you were not fine."

"I had him on the ropes." You smiled, but it wavered, you had been scared and your heart had been racing seeing Bucky sneak up on him. "Plus, I've got my knight in shining armour to shoot people for me." You grinned up at Bucky, blood painted on your uniforms and across your cheeks.

"Good thing too." Bucky threaded his fingers through your chest holster and tugged you forwards, pressing a deep kiss to your lips. You hummed happily and leant into him before he set you back down

"If you're done, Sam, can we go back to the jet? I've got bad guy blood all over me, yuck." You made a face and wiped your cheek with the back of your hand before strolling off with Bucky, rifles over your shoulders.

"Did they just—" Joaquin looked over at Sam.

"Yeah —"

"How long?"

"No idea."

As you rounded the corner Bucky took your hand again, tugging you closer and pressing a kiss to your head where the imprint of the gun still lingered.

"Does this finally mean I'm your boyfriend?"

"Because you shot someone for me?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, sure." You smiled, resting your cheek on his shoulder.

[imsojules]

Imagine surviving a zombie apocalypse with JJ

Hey y’all! So I had a dream a few weeks ago after binging The Walking Dead and The Last of Us, and it inspired me to get back to writing after a long time! While I’m working on the actual fic (I would like to make it into a series), I’d like to share with you some headcanon teaser-imagine-type thing. 1.2k

Any feedback is really appreciated!! ♥

TW for typical zombie apocalypse violence, established relationship, mentioned extreme violence/death, hurt/comfort, Pogue fem!reader, English is not my first language!

• The day they announced it as a pandemic, JJ rushed home and waited for his dad to come home; he never did.

• When everything went to hell, JJ was already running on instinct. He heard the news, saw the panic, and didn’t even stop to think. He found you in your driveway, confused and holding your phone like it still mattered. He didn’t even say hello, just grabbed your wrist and said, “We need to go. Now.”

• His voice was shaking. JJ Maybank does not scare easy — so when he looked at you like the world was ending, you believed him.

• John B hotwired a truck. Pope showed up with a first aid kit and four cans of soup. Kie had a machete and murder in her eyes. Sarah was already screaming at rich people to get off their yachts. And just like that, the Pogues became your apocalypse family.

• You’ve all got roles. Pope’s the tactician. John B’s the scout. Kiara’s the fixer. Sarah’s the backup. JJ’s the shield. You? You’re the glue. You’re the reason they haven’t splintered. You remind them there’s still something worth fighting for. Even if it’s just each other.

• JJ's survival strategy? Vibes and violence. He’s got no long-term plan, no route on the map, just a baseball bat, a stolen switchblade, and the promise he made to you: “I’m not leaving without you.”

• You’re in charge of rations, because JJ is not to be trusted around the food, and he’s not too proud to admit it.

• He deadass wants to go live in the mountains until all this has passed, and you’re like ?? “I’m not starving to death, Jay, forget it.”

• You constantly have to remind him he’s not Bear Grylls.

• He names his weapons. It’s dumb, but you let him have it. The bat is "Lucille 2," and the knife is “Karma.” You once caught him talking to them like they were teammates. “Nice work today, Karma. You really showed that corpse who’s boss.”

• You once found an abandoned community center with an old projector. Pope rigged it to work off a car battery. You all watched The Goonies while eating expired popcorn. It was the first time you saw JJ cry. He blamed it on “zombie dust.” No one called him out.

• Every new safehouse, he carves a tiny mark into the wall. A tally of the days survived. He never talks about it. You only saw it once—his name, yours, and a little plus sign between them.

• He taught you how to throw knives using an old road sign as a target. You beat him once. JJ claimed the wind was emotionally targeting him. “That was sabotage. Atmospheric betrayal.”

• Kiara taught you how to use a crossbow. JJ said it was hot. John B agreed. Sarah threatened to throw both of them into a walker pit if they kept being annoying. They shut up. (But JJ kept sneaking glances.)

• You kept a Polaroid JJ found—two strangers, smiling in some sunny-before-time. You call them "the ghosts." It’s silly, but sometimes you imagine they made it somewhere safe. That you will too.

• If there’s a tree in your path, you bet JJ’s going to fucking climb it. Passing an abandoned playground? Before you can blink, he’s on the jungle gym like “Look at me!!”

• He will insist he’s “scouting.”

• And it’s the little things that keep you sane.

• You both use humor to cope with the world.

• He can joke about the end of the world all day, but when you’re laughing, you’re reminding him that there’s still some piece of it left.

• You joked once about who’d be the first to die in a horror movie. “Definitely me,” he said without hesitation. “I’d trip saving you and get eaten with zero regrets. Classic heroic dumbass move. Five stars.”

• You started calling yourselves Team Cockroach—because no matter what came at you, you were still standing. JJ said it made you sound invincible. “Sexy little apocalypse cockroach power couple.”

• He made up a game called “Guess That Gunfire!” where you both guess what kind of weapon is being fired in the distance. Winner gets a protein bar. Loser has to cuddle him during night watch. You always lose. Mysteriously.

• You keep a small, battered notebook filled with sketches of places you’ve passed and letters you’ll never send.

• When things are quiet, the Pogues talk about what they miss most. Kie misses her garden. Pope misses his dad’s pancakes. Sarah misses showers. John B misses his freedom. JJ says he misses peace. You know he means it. He means you’re the closest he’s come to finding it again.

• At night watch, JJ exercises to stay awake. Like, you wake up in the middle of the night because you think you heard a zombie groan, but it’s just JJ doing sit-ups next to you.

• He senses you stirring and starts muttering, “Hundred and six, hundred and seven, hundred and—” but let’s be real, he only did like twelve.

• And you’re like, “How? Why? You’ve only had a can of tuna to eat in two days, where do you even get the energy??”

• “Gotta stay in shape if I’m gonna keep saving your clumsy ass.”

• JJ is the king of petty, spite-fueled motivation. “I’m not dying before I get to punch Rafe one more time.” “I didn’t live through the end of the world to starve to death. Not happening.” “I got bit by a duck, babe. A duck. I’m surviving out of spite.”

• He is terrified of losing you. Every time you two are apart, JJ is borderline homicidal.

• “I need to know you’re breathing. That you’re right there.” If he loses sight of you for more than ten seconds, it’s search mode activated. No one’s allowed to joke about it.

• There’s a comfort in knowing he’ll always fight for you. When the others doubt, when they hesitate, JJ’s always the one who steps up first, his fists clenched in a promise he’ll do whatever it takes to keep both of you alive.

• When you get to shower for the first time in a while, you suggest you just shower together and make the best of what little water you have.

• Imagine cuddling for comfort and warmth.

• Or patching him up after another close call.

• You once told him he was your home. He didn’t say anything, just looked at you like it physically hurt to love someone that much. That night, he held you like the world was ending all over again.

• You forget what day it is. Once, after spotting wildflowers sprouting through asphalt, you decided it was your anniversary. You didn’t know the real date, but you both agreed it felt like love.

• You have to be the responsible one, the decisive one, but in return, JJ will be your rock, your protector, steadfast and strong. Not even the weight of the world ending can faze him when he has you to worry about.

• When he says “I got you,” it’s never just words. It’s a promise. It’s a prayer. It’s a desperate, messy vow he’s never going to break—even if it kills him.

• After almost losing you once, he confesses that without you, he doesn’t have a reason to keep going. He survives to protect you.

• Never whines that he’s hungry or tired because he knows you are too, so whenever you ask if he’s alright, the answer is always going to be that he’s “okay if you are.”

• You once asked him what he’s fighting so hard for. He didn’t even blink. “You.” Then added, with a grin, “…and, like, definitely revenge on the duck.”

[trashpocket]

Return of vi brainrot

[wolfofansbach]

BEING A LIST OF THE THIRTEEN GREATEST RIVERDALE LINES, ON THE OCCASION OF THAT SHOW'S TERMINATION

As our much loved/hated show comes to an end, I feel compelled to record, for posterity, the greatest thirteen pieces of dialogue to spring from the pens of RAS and his henchmen. It was, of course, originally a top ten list, but I simply could not exclude a few of these treasures. Without further ado: 

13. 

“I dropped out in the 4th grade, to sell drugs, to support my nana.” 

“That means you haven't known the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of high school football.” 

Spoken by: an inmate of Leopold and Loeb Juvenile Detention Center, and Archie Andrews. 

In: 3 x 2 

Yeah, okay, this one had to be on the list. It’s funny, I’ll admit. It’s a great example of the overwrought semi-sincere melodrama that helped make this show so special. It’s low on the list largely because The Normies got their hands on it, so every time I hear someone make a reference I get all “do not cite the deep magic to me, witch.” 

12. 

“No! No! What are we supposed to do now? I’m horny as heck!”

Spoken by: Archie Andrews 

In: 7 x 16

Season 7 is undeniably dreadful, and yet there are diamonds in the rough. The occasion is the failure of a projector, just as Archie and Reggie prepare to watch a pornographic film. The utter desperation with which KJ Apa delivers this line is exquisite. One is made to feel they are witnessing a genuine tragedy. 

11. 

“Tonight, they’re making an exception and debuting a cover of the song my parents claim they were listening to the night Jason and I were conceived.” 

Spoken by: Cheryl Blossom. 

In: 1 x 1 

Really a fantastic line. A wonderful encapsulation of the casual absurdity of Cheryl’s character, and a foretaste of the lunacy we would plumb in later episodes and seasons. 

10. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m weird. I’m a weirdo. I don’t fit in and I don’t want to fit in. Have you ever seen me without this stupid hat on? That’s weird.” 

Spoken by: Jughead Jones

In: 1 x 10

A genuine classic. “High school football” before “high school football.” One is never entirely sure just how sincere the line is meant to be, both on a meta-level and in-universe. A perfect illumination of Jughead’s pretentiousness. It is made all the better by the occasional cuts to Lili Reinhard’s agonized face. 

9. 

“At the last dance, multiple students were murdered.” 

Spoken by: Principal Holden Honey. 

In: 4 x 2

Delivered as an explanation to Toni and Cheryl, as to why there would be no school dance this year. Principal Honey is in fact supremely rational in the cancellation of this dance. This being Riverdale, he is of course treated as an unreasonable tyrant. 

8. 

“Bro, I know all the secrets of this universe.” 

Spoken by: Archie Andrews (evil version)

In: 6 x 5 

Spoken as evil Archie reveals his evil plan to keep the parallel universes apart. KJ Apa’s delivery once again makes this line. He is comically sinister. Strangely, he sells it. 

7. 

“A Vughead kiss, right now, in the present might be precisely what it takes to save a future Bughead from imploding.” 

Spoken by: Jughead Jones. 

In: 2 x 14

One of those lines that both makes me laugh and makes me genuinely angry. This was a fairly early season, and this may have actually been the first line to get me asking, ‘did they genuinely write and deliver that?’ Extra points for use of the atrocious ‘Vughead’ portmanteau ship name rather than ‘Jeronica.’ 

6. 

“I’m the ultimate wild card. I am the daughter of The Black Hood. The nightmare from next door. I’m training with the FBI and I’m coming for you, you psycho bitch.” 

Spoken by: Betty Cooper

In: 4 x 14 

Just delicious. Another one of those lines that leaves you somewhat unsure whether or not the writers understood how genuinely hysterical it was. “The Nightmare from Next Door” sounds like an announcer hyping up a wrestler. Spoken with a raw sincerity by Lili Reinhart. Also points for the heavy homoeroticism between Betty and Donna. 

5. 

“For I am Cheryl Blossom, Queen of the Bees.” 

Spoken by: Cheryl Blossom.

In: 5 x 16. 

This one really doesn’t require any elaboration. 

4. 

“Elijah ascended…and I will, too.” 

Spoken by: Edgar Evernever.

In: 4 x 5. 

Admittedly, this one is only spectacular with context. But in context—the context being that Chad Michael Murray delivers this line while dressed like Evel Knievel and standing in a cartoon rocket right out of a Warner Bros cartoon—it becomes utterly magnificent. 

3. 

“It’s not queer baiting, it’s saving the world.” 

Spoken by: Veronica Lodge. 

In: 6 x 22. 

It’s actually hard for me to decide whether this one is funnier with or without context. Without context it’s wonderful, but it possibly becomes even funnier when you know that the context is that Veronica needs to kiss Cheryl to transfer superpowers into her body so she can turn into a Scarlet Witch knock-off and stop a magic comet summoned by Sephiroth an English wizard who is also the Devil. 

2. 

“If there’s no wedding reception, it means the Gargoyle King has won.” 

Spoken by: Kevin Keller. 

In: 3 x 12.

One of my personal favorites. This is a perfect line because like #3, it requires no real elaboration. There is absolutely no context in which it isn’t hysterical. 

1 .

“Word of my exploits serving Nick his comeuppance has seeped into the demimonde of mobsters and molls my father used to associate with, so the five families are sending their youngest and brightest, their ‘princes,’ as it were to, well, come court the rare Mafia Princess who can belly up to the bar with the big boys.

Spoken by: Veronica Lodge. 

In: 2 x 20. 

This is, in my opinion, the all-timer. Every word is perfect. The rapid-fire alliteration. The use of the word ‘demimonde.’ The entirely unnecessary addition of ‘as it were.’ This is borderline Dr. Seuss. The fact that Camila Mendes delivered it without cracking a smile should have won her an Emmy. No. An Oscar. This line is Riverdale. 

[beautysamour]

ok, confession time.

pairing: miguel o’hara x reader

summary: confession time ٩( ᐛ )و

warnings: none.

a/n: I caved…

“Alright, hear me out.” “No.”

Miguel interrupts without missing a beat. You scoff as you watch him turn his back to you as he refocuses on the many projectors in front of him. “All that technology is going to rot your brain,” you mumble out under your breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. Anyways,” you curl your two middle fingers inward towards your palm as you direct a web to the floating island Miguel was on. “As I was saying, hear me out.” You hear a distressed sigh coming from the man in front of you but decided to brush it off. He was going to hear you out.

He remained silent, an indirect indication for you to continue your thoughts.

“Being stressed all the time is going to do no good for the spiderverse.”

“Arachnoid humanoid poly multiverse.”

“Yeah, that, so as I was saying… having one dinner wouldn’t doom the multiverse.”

Another sigh was let out this time, but this time it was out of exhaustion. He calls out your name causing your back to straighten as he finally turns to face you.

“The fate of the multiverse,” he begins before getting cut off by a web, coming from you, connecting with his torso and jerking him towards your direction.

He tilted his head at you once you stopped pulling him closer, leaving probably three centimeters of space between you two.

He wasn’t surprised by this action, no, you’ve done this multiple times. Pulled him too close for comfort, causing all logical thoughts in his brain to short circuit as it filled with thoughts of you.

You could hear his heartbeat. It’s one of the pros that come with being a spider person, your heightened senses. In moments like these where your own heartbeat was far too hard for you control you’d rely on his to calm you down, however it seemed to have done the opposite.

Why was it so fast?

Hearing your name managed to take you out of your momentarily dazed self.

“Is everything alright?” Miguel, whose body was practically leaning on yours, lightly shook you for he was disturbed by your suddenly quiet self.

“Yeah,” you replied far too quickly as you forced yourself to take a few steps back to create some distance between you two.

“Anyways,” you stuttered out, “I was just going to say how you always loose me whenever you start talking about the multiverse. Yeah, always manages to make my brain shut off.”

Miguel stared at you confused as you start to awkwardly ramble on about how the very premise of the multiverse is strange.

“And it’s so weird how technically-“

“Stop talking.”

You immediately close your mouth.

For the third time tonight, Miguel lets out a sigh as he closes the distance between the two of you. One second your mouth is opening to question why he’s taking more steps than necessary, and the next it’s occupied by the mouth of his.

When you don’t push him away and instead lean into his body, his hand travels up to your neck and his thumb presses against the area where your adams apple would’ve been to tilt your head up slightly more.

The one to end the kiss first is you, Miguel attempts to follow and close that distance once again but gets interrupted by the hand you put on his chest to stop him.

For a second Miguel starts to think he read the entire situation wrong. But you leaned into him so what does that mean-

“Miguel,” you begin saying softly and you looked up at him, “how did you know,” when he gives you a blank expression you let out a small snicker before continuing, “that I liked you.”

He tilts his head again as he looked down at you, “You thought I wasn’t able to sense your heartbeat? Cariño, even though I don’t have the spider sense that you have, my senses are still heightened.”

“Oh,” you say dumbfounded. Right.

“Yeah,” he says quietly as he tries to kiss you again.

“Wait,” you interrupt. “So, do you…like me too?”

“…We just kissed.”

“Yeah but, friends with benefits exist-“

Miguel groaned as you began to ramble on about how kissing doesn’t mean requited feelings, and while he understood what you were saying he’d much rather feel your lips on his than watch them speak about a scenario that wasn’t the case with this situation.

“Ok, then how about we get dinner.”

You widened your eyes at his words, a smile threatens to show on your face but you try to keep your composure, “…Ok. So…is this a date?”

“Yes,” he exhales, “Yes, it will be a date.”

“Ok.” You say excitedly before connecting a web with the ground beneath you two and jumping down, “See you in…?”

“Does thirty minutes sound good?”

“Yeah,” you start to smile, “yeah, thirty minutes sounds good.” You give him an actual smile before turning around getting ready to run through the halls of hq to tell Peter and Mayday all about this interaction.

“Ok,” Miguel says under his breath as he watches you leave.

“Why are you so awkward?”

“Lyla shut up.”

[ducksido]

Sweeter then Donuts- Ruggie Valentine

Valentine’s Day at Night Raven College was… chaotic. Between Azul’s overpriced couple’s deals at Monstro Lounge, Floyd’s relentless teasing, and Vil throwing a fit over last-minute beauty preparations, you’d spent most of the day dodging the madness.

That was, until Ruggie Bucchi found you near the Ramshackle Dorm, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

“Oi, Prefect. Got a sec?”

You turned to see him standing there, ears perked up and tail swaying lazily behind him. “Yeah, what’s up?”

He hesitated, rubbing his neck before glancing away. “Well… I figured since it's Valentine’s and all, maybe we could—uh, y’know—hang out?”

You blinked, surprised. “Are you… asking me on a date?”

Ruggie huffed, his cheeks slightly pink. “Pfft, don’t make a big deal outta it! It’s nothin’ fancy, but I got somethin’ planned. So, ya in or what?”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “I’m in.”

Ruggie’s dorm room in Savanaclaw was surprisingly cozy. Messy, but cozy. Blankets were piled onto his bed, and the scent of something faintly sweet lingered in the air.

“I, uh, don’t got a fancy setup like Monstro Lounge or whatever,” he admitted as he sat on the floor, propping his phone up against a stack of books. “But I did figure out how to use my phone as a projector! Pretty neat, huh?”

You sat beside him as he adjusted the angle, and soon, a cheesy romantic movie flickered onto the blank wall.

It was one of those movies—the kind where the couple meets by accident, goes through a series of misunderstandings, and then confesses in the rain.

Ruggie snickered at a particularly dramatic scene. “No way people actually talk like that.”

You laughed. “I dunno, maybe we should try it. ‘Oh, Ruggie! My heart beats only for you!’” you exaggerated, clutching your chest.

He gave you a playful shove. “Yeah, yeah, real funny, Prefect.”

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence, watching the movie while sharing some snacks—well, what little snacks were left.

Ruggie suddenly sighed, looking at the empty plate beside him. “Sorry we don’t have donuts, though. I swear I had some, but I think Ace stole ’em.”

You chuckled, leaning a little closer to him. “I don’t mind. I have something sweeter right next to me.”

Ruggie froze, ears twitching, and you could practically see his brain short-circuiting.

“Wh—” He barely got a word out before you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

For a second, he didn’t react, completely stunned. But then, his tail flicked, and he grinned against your lips before kissing you back, the warmth of his touch sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

When you pulled away, his smirk was back in full force. “Heh… well, ain’t that somethin’?”

You grinned. “Happy Valentine’s, Ruggie.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to be all mushy about it.”

Despite his words, he didn’t let go.

And honestly, you were fine with that.

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

Walking through campus the next morning, you and Ruggie strolled side by side, your fingers loosely intertwined. The warmth of his hand was comfortable, and despite his usual tendency to be cautious about PDA, he hadn’t let go once.

You were starting to think he was enjoying this more than he let on.

“Oi.”

A deep voice rumbled from behind you, making both of you pause.

Leona Kingscholar stood there, arms crossed, emerald eyes glinting with amusement. His tail swayed lazily behind him as he took in the sight of your joined hands.

“Well, well. Looks like Rugs finally stopped being a coward,” he drawled.

Ruggie immediately bristled. “Oi, what’s that s’posed to mean?”

Leona smirked. “It means you’ve been making moon eyes at the Prefect ever since they helped us with my Overblot.” He yawned dramatically. “Didn’t think you’d ever actually do something about it.”

Your eyes widened as you glanced at Ruggie, who was now sputtering. “That’s not—” He huffed. “Shut up, Leona.”

Leona let out a lazy chuckle. “Took ya long enough.”

You turned to Ruggie with a teasing smile. “You’ve been pining after me since then?”

Ruggie groaned, ears flattening. “Ugh. This is the worst day of my life.”

Leona’s smirk widened. “Sure don’t look like it.”

Despite his grumbling, Ruggie still hadn’t let go of your hand.

And, honestly, you kind of liked knowing he never wanted to.

[jinx-isha-forever]

Movie night

(Jinx x fem!reader)

Summary: Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Isha, and reader are having a movie night.

Warnings: none.

A/N: Another silly idea! Hope it’s an enjoyable read!

“I don’t know how to get this stupid thing to work.” Vi shouted annoyed. She’d been trying to get the movie projector to turn on for over an hour now.

Caitlyn was trying to find some “clean” pillows and blankets.

You roll your eyes at Vi’s words, watching her from a distance push random buttons. You knew she meant well, but she just wasn’t really good at tech stuff.

“Just wait till Jinx gets back with the movies.” You shout back to Vi from the other room.

You and Isha were making movie snacks.

“Like I’ve been saying this whole time.” You mumble the last part under your breath.

Isha giggled. Clearly catching your comment. You ruffle Isha’s hair, giggling slightly as well.

“Fiiiiine.” You hear Vi hit the couch.

Caitlyn returns with the pillows and blankets.

“Okay. These smell the best out of the pile.”

She says hitting Vi with a pillow. Laughing softly. Vi looks up at her surprised. Before retaliating. Hitting her back and laughing.

You and Isha both look at the time. Both of you were missing Jinx. She’d only been gone for a couple of hours. But still, you both agreed it felt waaaay longer.

You let out a deep sigh.

“Okay.” You look down at Isha in a playful demeanor.

“Last thing we need is some popcorn seasoning. And then our fortress of snacks will be complete.”

You say in a funny voice. Making Isha laugh.

You reach up to grab the seasoning when-

“Guess who?”

Hands come over your eyes.

It was Jinx.

“Hmmm……”

You say, playing along with the biggest smile on your face.

“Is it…….. Vi?”

“Nope.”

“What about some trouble maker off the street?”

“Oooo…getting warmer.”

She chuckles.

You grab her hands spinning around.

“Hey’a toots!”

“Jinx!” You punch her arm playfully.

Before giving her a hug.

“Wow! I wasn’t gone that long.”

She smiles. Leaning into the hug. You knew she loved the attention. Isha runs up hugging Jinx from behind.

“Isha!”

She turns around doing there fun handshake.

“Grab all the snacks kid. We got some movies to watch.” Jinx says excitedly, making her way over to the projector.

“Hey, Jinx.” Vi sits up.

“Sooo I don’t know why, but I couldn’t get that stupid thing to start.” She says motioning to the projector.

“Welllll…….did you try…. I don’t know…….”

Jinx pauses, picking up a tiny cord hiding underneath the couch. She then plugs it in to an outlet.

“Plugging it in?”

Light immediately comes out of the projector.

Jinx turns around folding her arms looking at Vi with a “you’re an idiot” look on her face.

Vi’s mouth is kinda open. Caitlyn moves closer to Vi on the couch.

“Don’t worry. I still love you. Even if you are a complete imbecile.” She leans in giving her a kiss on the cheek.

You and Isha bring in the rest of the snacks. Jinx puts the first movie in. It was something about a killer shark. Jinx had mentioned.

You decide to nestle yourself down in the blankets and pillows on the floor, since Vi and Caitlyn were clearly comfortable on the couch.

Isha follows your lead sitting right beside you, grabbing your arm and putting it around her. You chuckle at her cuteness. Letting her snuggle in.

Jinx starts the movie before joining you both on the floor.

She sits on your other side, grabbing a blanket and rapping it around you both.

You all snuggle in together.

-little time skip-

You and Isha jump as the huge shark on the screen pulled another swimmer down under the water. Jinx chuckles at you both, rapping her arms around you. Holding you tight.

“Is this classic too much for you toots?”

You nudge her playfully.

“This is actually like my favorite movie.”

You whisper back.

You look over at Isha, feeling her move around.

Isha had given up on hiding behind a blanket and turned her head towards you, using your arm instead.

“Hey, you okay kid?”

You whispered.

She nods while still holding your arm over her eyes.

“It doesn’t even look that real.”

Caitlyn announced. Sounding annoyed.

Vi pats her head. Whispering.

“Then why did you almost jump in my lap cupcake?”

You could see the blush on Caitlyn’s cheeks even on the floor.

Jinx rolled her eyes.

As the movie goes on.

You slightly turn your head to look at Jinx. You admire the way the light from the movie bounced around on Jinx’s face. The way her eyes focused on the screen.

“You know you’re beautiful right?” You whisper in her ear.

She looks at you, grabbing your hand under the blankets, squeezing it lightly.

“Not as beautiful as you are trinket.” She whispered back.

You could see the love in her eyes.

Jinx looks over at Isha….

(Still hiding behind your arm.)

Before leaning closer to your face. Giving you a kiss. She pulls back. Cupping your cheek.

“I want you to stay here forever.” Her voice is soft but serious.

You smile. Rubbing your thumb softly against her hand.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[corner-in-corner]

Breath of spring

desc: James Lee finds discovers something new about your, Jinrang returns home from prison

obsessive!(yandere) James Lee x reader

established relationship and simp!(maybe) Jinrang

mostly fluff, kinda open ending

notes: this is kinda a sequel to this story

Happy Valentine’s Day!

If somebody had ever asked James Lee (currently known as Diego Kang and formerly know as DG) about your flaws, despite being a genius, he wouldn’t have found an answer.

Even so, there was one.

Your horrible taste in men.

He could find no other explanation for why you sat so happily by the cafe window, sipping your coffee before the start of your workday. While you effortlessly warmed the whole place with your presence, DG ached—because he knew the reason behind your happiness.

The Wolf.

The King of Busan.

The man adored by all.

Your only flaw.

Jinrang.

You counted the hours until you would finally see your lover again after his long imprisonment. The mere thought of it made your heart beat faster, your smile widen, your eyes glow with anticipation. Oh, how you had missed him. You couldn’t help but think about him.

Little did you know that you longtime admirer had plans of his own for today.

Diego Kang slipped off the gold signet ring, the one so similar to those work by Jinrang’s gang higher-ups. It’s too soon, he thought. You’ll notice.

---

“Thank you for choosing us”, the head of the department said, his voice cautious as he stole glances at DG—the man infamous for leaving the music industry at the peak of his career behind to build his own empire. He couldn’t shake the unease creeping his spine. There was something about the way Diego Kang sat there, utterly indifferent to the meeting. Something that made the air feel colder.

Then came a knock at the door. You entered with a smile, carrying a tray of drinks.

To James Lee, you were the first breath of spring after a brutal winter. Not a single detail escaped his notice. The way your eyes flickered in brief confusion, the second where he was almost caught—before you dismissed it.

Your senior struggled with the projector, the machine refusing to cooperate with him. It was a trivial inconvenience, but for Diego Kang, it was a gift from above. It meant that the task of entertaining him fell to you.

And for the first time in this endless, agonizing crush, he had you—smiling, speaking, focused entirely on him.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing, sorry”, you chuckled. “It is strange to say, but you just reminded me of someone.”

James Lee’s heart pounded.

“And… who might that be?” he asked., masking his excitement with a smirk.

“Oh, just a classmate of mine.” You laughed, brushing the thought away. But DG caught something in your expression—a flicker of nostalgia.

“You even smirk the same way! If I didn’t know who you were, I’d swear you were him.”

“And what was he like?”

“Oh,” you looked away, smiling fondly. “He was… a genius. Sorry, it’s not like we were close. He was kind of a star at our school. Imagine a guy whose trophies filled entire shelves—our local celebrity, every girl’s dream.” You laughed, lost in old memories.

James could still remember those days—passing by your classroom just to steal a glimpse of you through the window, wondering how he looked in your eyes when he stepped onto the stage to claim another gold medal.

“And did you love him?” he asked, his smirk deepening.

“You bet! He was literally EVERY girl’s idol!” You laughed, waving it off.

To hear you speak of him so fondly—to hear you praise him, without even knowing he was right in front of you—oh, how it thrilled him. If not his self-control, he would have revealed himself that very moment, even if every King of Korea were watching.

The projector was finally fixed, and DG turned his attention back to the meeting. Half-heartedly.

Because now, he was certain.

He will steal you away from the Wolf.

---

Meanwhile, in Seoul, the gates of the prison creaked open, releasing the King.

Baek was there to greet him, just as expected. But Jinrang barely acknowledged him—his mind was elsewhere. His thoughts were of you.

Baek handed him a piece of tofu, a symbolic fresh start. Jinrang took a large bite, silently making his wish.

A new beginning. With you.

As they drove, Baek spoke, but Jinrang barely listened. His thoughts wandered, flickering between anticipation and dread.

Would you still be there? What if you had moved on?

You had loved him when he was just another fighter clawing his way to the top of the Arena. You had nursed his wounds after brutal battles, crying for him even when he swore he was fine. You had stood by his side when he became a champion, when he became the King of Busan.

He was a man loved by everyone. But the only love that mattered is yours.

And what if you no longer loved him?

What if someone else had taking his place? Someone who could cherish you the way you deserved? Someone who hadn’t left you behind.

It wasn’t that he doubted your love. No.

Jinrang never admitted it out loud, but if you were to stab him in the heart, he would accept it as a blessing from his goddess.

But the thoughts of you leaving him?

Unbearable.

As they neared Busan, Baek asked, “Where to first?”

Jinrang’s answer was unexpected.

“To the office.”

This wasn’t a whim. He refused to return to you like this—straight from prison, still tainted by the filth of that place.

A real man loves his lady. That was the first lesson his teacher had taught him. (Though he had conveniently tweaked it a bit and overlooked the fact the his teacher was a manwhore)

---

By the time he reached your shared home, the sky was awash with hued of deep violet and gold.

You had been pacing for hours, anxiety gnawing you.

What if he wasn’t the same man anymore? What if prison had changed him beyond recognition?

The door creaked open.

And there he stood.

Your breath caught.

He was the same. The same stoic face—only now softened with guilt for the time lost.

Before he could say a word, before he could extend the flowers in his hand, you crashed into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

“Y-you’re back… F-finally, you are back!”

Jinrang let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his arms tightening around you.

The flowers were crushed between you, their scent mixing with his. But neither of you cared.

For the first time in years, the world faded away.

He lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Will you… allow me?” he murmured.

You pulled him down into a kiss.

Jinrang’s hand slid to the back of your head, his grip firm—desperate to close the distance between you. The moment stretched, everything else ceasing to exist.

When you finally pulled away, he brushed his lips against your tear-streaked cheeks.

After a long silence, you mumbled, “I should have let you in first.”

Jinrang chuckled, holding up the slightly crushed bouquet.

“These are for you.”

You laughed softly as you took them, your favorite flowers. The sight of you, blushing, was like a breath of spring after a long winter, and made something in him settle. For the first time in a long, long time—Jinrang felt at peace.

---

“How was your day?” Jinrang’s voice was low, gentle, as his fingers threaded through your har. The moonlight bathed you in silver, making you look almost ethereal, as if you might disappear with the breeze.

The pendant he had finally gifted you rested against your chest, rising and falling with your breath. The day he had intended to give it to you had never come. Instead, he had been dragged away in chains, left to rot in a prison cell. And now, after all those years, it was finally where it belonged—resting against your heart.

Jinrang pulled you closer, his grip tightening ever so slightly, as if to make sure you were real, that you wouldn’t slip away like a fading dream.

Your head lay against his bicep, face buried in his chest, comforted by his warmth. A small smile played on your lips. It had been so long since you felt this—the warmth of his presence. How many nights you spent sleepless, staring at empty space beside you, heart aching for the man who should have been there?

“Nothing serious. Just embarrassed myself,” you murmured, your voice drowsy. “Told a client he reminded me of the most popular guy from my high school”

Jinrang hummed, continuing to stroke your hair, listening, indulging in the lull of your voice. But when you started reminiscing about your old high school crush, the wolf couldn’t resist baring his teeth in amusement.

“Do you still like him?” he mused. “More than me?”

You scoffed. “Do you even believe what you just said?” A breath of laughter escaped your lips as you shook your head. “You’re the only one for me.”

You pressed a kiss against his lips, and he deepened it, as if savoring your words. The warmth of him, the sheer presence of him, pulled you into a quiet lull. Your eyelids grew heavier, sleep crept upon you.

“And what was his name?” Jinrang yawned. The warmth of you, the security of having you in his arms again, made the past few years feel like a distant nightmare.

He traced the curve of your collarbone and lifted the pedant. The golden ring meant to accompany it, the one he had planned to give you as part of his proposal the day he was imprisoned. Your engagement ring still lay hidden in his belongings. It would remain there for now. The time wasn’t right. Not yet.

First, he would destroy James Lee and his bitches.

First, he would ensure your safety.

First, he would make sure nothing—not even death—could take you away from him again.

“Don’t remember,” you murmured sleepily. “We never talked. Maybe one time”

Jinrang chuckled under his breath. Only you can give such a naive answer.

“It was something like James Lee I think…”

Notes: only at the end I realized how I fucked up the timeline

Please ignore this and think that James started his hunt for gen 1 later🥺

[nnight-dances]

FOR LOVERS WHO HESITATE.

PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader (ft. xu minghao)

GENRE: fluff, some angst

TROPES: best friends to lovers, reader is oblivious and an idiot sometimes, kinda he fell first and she fell harder, reader is a moa lol and also a hopeless romantic, wonwoo is in photography school and a youtuber.

it's raining cats and dogs when you step out of the shower and the burst of thunder that follows has you thanking that your commute from work to home hadn't seen any such rain. it's a big night for you, after all, you can't have anything spoiling it. it's txt's comeback night and for once, your schedule's freed up in time for you to be able to enjoy the coming weekend with some brand new music from your favorite kpop group. what's more is you had a date on saturday and where usually you would be shaking with nervousness, you actually quite liked this guy. his name was minghao, and he made you feel a calmness with him that you had yet to feel with another man on any dating apps. maybe there was hope after all…

you apply your prized lavender-scented body lotion as you re-listen to some old albums that have been close to your heart and hum along happily. you're about to turn the kettle on for some tea when you hear the doorbell ring. with a sigh, you glance at the time. there were only a handful of people who'd drop by your place at 9 on a friday. 

"wonwoo," you murmur when you start to vagule recall texts from him about coming over for ramen and ice cream. you pad over and open the door to the tall man peering at you through his glasses, "you didn't read my texts again, did you?" 

you gasp in feigned offense, "wow, you're really just gonna assume i didn't? of course i did! and that's why i knew it was you barging into my house this late at night."

"late?" wonwoo questions your wording as he lets himself in and then pauses when he catches sight of the elaborate set-up in your living room. the tiny projector you had bought ages ago and long-forgotten about is now out and function, displaying your laptop screen on the white wall, open on txt's youtube channel. 

"ohhh," he slowly turns around in realization, "are they coming out tonight?"

"coming back, yes," you call out from the kitchen, turning the kettle on like you'd planned, "i'm making some tea, you want any?"

"no, but i'll have the ramen you promised me." 

you narrow your eyes at him, "you do realize you promised yourself ramen, right?" 

"come on, y/n!" wonwoo starts whining, "you never hang with me anymore! it's always just work, home, txt, hinge boyfriend, work, work with you. what about jeon wonwoo time? what about best friend bonding hours?"

you can't help the chuckle that escapes you, watching the tall man slumped against your light blue fridge with a pout on his lips. he pushes his glasses back with sleeve of his black hoodie to stare you down. 

"...i hear you, sir," you start, "but to be fair, we did hang earlier this week when i took you out to lunch for getting a million subscribers on your youtube channel." 

"that doesn't count!" he complains, "that was like, duty-based hangout."

"right," you laugh, "listen, woo, i do wanna hang but you did see my plans for the night in the living room. so i mean, if you wanna grab some ramen and watch five men being silly before their new music drops… you're more than welcome." 

this time wonwoo's quiet, mouth moving undecidedly as he weighs his options. then, he shrugs, realizing he wasn't going to change your plans for the night. "eh, sure. it's not like it's my first time anyway." 

"cool! we have a plan!" you clap, "glad we came to an understanding." 

wonwoo laughs as he watches you take out to packets of ramen and start preparing the soup for them. now that he knows he gets to spend time with you, he relaxes, taking in the light blue pyjama set you have on. it matches the scrunchie in your hand and the hairclips that hold your bangs back in place. he notices how in the silence you naturally start humming a song under your breath, the melody vaguely familiar to wonwoo from the time he's spent listening to txt with you. 

truth be told, wonwoo really needed this tonight. he's had a long week of juggling classes and content creation, now that he had the new burden of pleasing a million people who had put their trust in him to speedrun and try out the newest video games. he's also had to meet up with friends, old and new, who reached out to him thanks to his new milestone. while he was always so grateful for the support, at the end of the day, he was an introvert and it was only in solitude he could gain back the energy he'd spent. 

except of course, solitude came back when it was with you, nevermind the real definition of the word. easy to say, over the years of your friendship with wonwoo, he'd become used to finding comfort in your warmth, though it changed with time. when you were both in college, it meant studying together and holding each other through the hard times. when you graduated and went on to get a job at a publishing company you'd always admired, wonwoo continued school to get a masters in photography like he'd always dreamed. now, comfort meant escaping his dorm room to drop by your place so he could bother you. 

sometimes, he hesitated, worried that he might actually be bothering you. you were an actual working adult, after all. but then, he'd find you sending him stupid memes in the middle of the night on a working night and he'd change his mind, knowing he couldn't go another week without seeing your face. 

"hello? you're just gonna stand there and watch me do all the work?" 

your stern voice breaks wonwoo out from his daydreaming and focus on the two steaming bowls of ramen that have appeared on the kitchen counter. "oh, sorry," he says, "just zoned out."

"not that you would've been much help with your hands of disaster."

"hey," wonwoo calls, "that's unfair, i'm a perfectly competent cook."

you raise a brow at him, "really, woo? would you say a perfectly competent cook would cut his thumb on a potato peeler? or, what was it the other time, would he spill boiling hot soup all over himself?"

wonwoo purses his lips. "whatever. i can just wash dishes if you're gonna be so mean about my cooking skills."

"sorry, woo, but there are no skills to be mean about," you murmur as you top the ramen with some fried egg. "anyway, here, take these and i'll bring us drinks. beer good with you?"

"you know it, sir," he confirms as he carries out your orders, balancing the bowls in each hand and making his way to the living room. he takes a seat on the couch, when something on the screen catches his attention. though your youtube screen is crowded with suggestions related to txt on different variety shows, there's a video in the corner that shows wonwoo's face. he recognizes it as one of his newer videos this week, one he made to thank his followers for their overwhelming support. he's honestly surprised to the red bar under the video indicate that you'd already watched the whole video. he didn't think you'd have the time to watch an hour long video.

he can't help the satisfied smile that creeps up his face, feeling a new level of accomplished knowing you were so up to date with his content.

"you're really just gonna grin like that to yourself?" your voice calls out, "i'm scared, should i keep a weapon close?"

wonwoo shrugs, "i don't know, would you really have the guts to kill your favorite youtuber?" 

you're caught off-guard and when you see wonwoo's video on the screen, you redden, averting your gaze as you place two cans of beers on the table. "so much for supporting my best friend," you mumble, adorable pout on your lips as you break open your chopsticks, stirring the hot ramen around. 

wonwoo keeps his smug excitement over the fact that you didn't deny his claim to your favorite youtuber and simply joins you in cooling his noodles. "anyway, i thought that txt was releasing new music? why would that include them being silly?"

"the countdown live, obviously," you inform him before slurping some ramen.

"ahh, right, i forgot those were a thing. when does the live start?"

you turn your laptop to yourself and scroll till you find the link to the countdown live, "hmm, let's see. it says here that there's 33 minutes." 

"wanna watch an episode of demon slayer while we wait?" wonwoo asks gingerly, ready to be rejected immediately. but you seem distracted by your phone, your quick typing indicating you were texting someone. "hm? texting a new guy?" he asks, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. 

you hum out a yes and after a minute, you put your phone down, smile on your lips. "you must really like him if you're texting him back that fast," he comments.

you look at him with a chuckle, "i met him last week on hinge. woo, he's stunning and genuinely nice. how rare is that combination?" you sigh, "i honestly still think he's a little too good to be true but i guess i'll find out tomorrow."

"tomorrow?" he asks, "where's he taking you out?"

you cough, "we're going to a museum and then to lunch at an italian place."

"damn," wonwoo mutters, "he's rich then, i presume?"

you hit wonwoo's arm, "what's your next question? how much does he make a year? his criminal history?"

"i mean, does he have one?"

"wonwoo," you warn him, "he's a perfectly nice guy. or so i hope. anyway, wanna watch this episode of txt's show? it'll warm you up for the live." 

wonwoo quietly nods as you click on the recommended video. he takes a deep breath to settle the storm in his stomach and sips his ramen soup to clear his head. he was here to spend time with you, not fight with you over questionable dates you found on hinge. 

"that one's soobin, right? he's my favorite," wonwoo smiles when the guy's dimples deepen with a joke another member cracked. 

"i thought you liked beomgyu!" you laugh, "you're a really unfaithful one, aren't you?"

he shrugs, "i don't know what you're talking about, i've always been biased toward soobin." 

"you didn't even know his name till five minutes ago, but sure, woo, if you insist."

the episode ends with both of you weak with laughter, partly because of the goofy nature of the games txt was playing but mostly because throughout, one of you would make a remark that would get the other laughing and build from there. it really was a never-ending battle with laughter when wonwoo was around. 

"oh, i must know what happens next! i know soobin's gonna win this thing," wonwoo says. 

"ahh, as much as i want to watch the second episode, we should tune into the live or we're gonna be late," you tell him. "we can watch the second one some other time?"

"it's a date," wonwoo teases back before he can stop himself from filtering his thoughts. but it's too late, you've turned to him with a look of scrutiny, wondering if he was joking or not. 

"right, okay, here it is," you pull up the live, which has been on for about five minutes. soobin is in the middle of talking about the album when you tune in. "ohh, look, your favorite boy's talking about the album."

"i see that," wonwoo smiles, "where's your favorite guy at?"

"hmm, wait… ah, there he is, yeonjun with his new haircut," you gasp, "god, black hair suits him so well." wonwoo narrows his eyes at the black-haired guy you've pointed out. you're right, he looks amazing, though he can't tell if it's the hair or just his general abundance of beauty. 

the rest of the countdown live goes not unlike before, with you helpfully supplying wonwoo with any context he might missing behind the member's comments. at exactly midnight, wonwoo watches their new music video with you, laughing when at its end you immediately click the replay button. after its third re-watch, you switch to spotify and listen to the entire album once before nodding in satisfaction.

"that's a solid album," wonwoo comments, smiling at your half-contained excitement. "it's everything i need to get through life till their next comeback," you say, "the title track's my favorite for the first time. although that might change as i relisten to the album."

"the title's the catchiest so that's probably right," he says. wonwoo's about to say some more about the album when he catches the look in your eyes. "what's wrong?"

"sorry, i feel bad for making you sit through that for like, three hours."

wonwoo's heart melts a little when he catches you fiddling with the hem of your pyjama top. he lets out a lighthearted chuckle, "you didn't force me. i had fun, y/n."

you smile, "i had fun, too. i always do with you." wonwoo's heart skips a beat at your admission, his cheeks warming up, "oh, right, i should show you the new speaker i bought the other day." you stand up and run over to your room excitedly. 

a few minutes pass and wonwoo sighs, hand at his chest, trying to calm himself down. he rests his head against his arm, slumping against the sofa, as his mind races. this won't do, he thinks, closing his eyes to shut out his bothersome thoughts. 

perhaps, he calms down a little fast because when you return with the speaker clutched in your hand, you find him dozing off on the couch. you smile at the sight, plopping down next to him. "always falling asleep anywhere, aren't you?" you mumble under your breath, eyes drawn to the portrait of serenity that wonwoo was. you watch him breathe steadily for a while before you rest your head against his arm, inexplicably drawn to the sight before you. 

you felt… weird, almost itchy, when you're this close to wonwoo. his eyelashes were longer than you expected at this distance and you have to contain the desire to brush your knuckles against them. you wonder what he must be thinking, to appear to be so at peace. you let out a hum unknowingly and wonwoo stirs. 

he comes to with a start, feeling a weight on his arm that hadn't been there when he fell asleep. and then he opens his eyes, almost convinced he's still dreaming when he finds your head against his hand, blinking solemnly as if you had been watching him sleep.

wait… hadn't you actually been watching him sleep? wonwoo starts to wonder but you cut him off when you whine, "you dozed off, jeon wonwoo." 

"sorry, i didn't mean to," he mutters, unusually shy. 

"well, it's fine. it's getting late," you say. then, after a moment, "do you just want sleep over? it's kind of a trek to your dorm from here."

wonwoo hesitates, blood rushing to his face at the idea of sleeping over at your place. "no, it's fine, i'll just go back."

"no, i would feel too bad letting you do that," you insist with a pout, "plus, it's saturday tomorrow so you don't have to worry about rushing back to class or anything."

he pauses. you were right, it was a pretty reasonable proposition once he thought about it with straight mind. "then, i will," he agrees, "but where do i sleep?" the question comes from the knowledge that you did only own one bed, the one that was in your bedroom. never mind that it was big enough to fit you both, the fact that it was in your bedroom made it off-limits in wonwoo's mind. 

"my bed?" you ask.

wonwoo sits up, "absolutely not."

"damn," you mumble, but don't think much of it, "i guess you'll have to take the couch then?"

"that works for me."

you narrow your eyes at him, not wanting to push him to sleep in your bed if he really was that strongly against it but you can't help but pry a little more. "you sure you don't prefer a soft mattress with proper pillows?"

"you forget that i can fall asleep anywhere at any given moment with minimal trouble," he shrugs. "but i will ask of you to lend me one of your plushies."

you chuckle at that, "alright then, if you insist. i'll bring you a blanket and a plushie." when you leave to accomplish said missions, wonwoo takes a second to marvel and… well, panic at his situation. 

he'd only ever slept over at your place once and that was when he passed out from drinking too much soju. that didn't really count, especially since that time hoshi and karina had also passed out next to him on your floor. so this really felt like a big deal to wonwoo. 

you come back with a pile of a soft pink blanket and a matching pink bunny in your arms, dropping them next to wonwoo on the couch. "there," you say, "you want tea before you sleep?"

"nope."

"anything else? water?"

"oh, is there a toothbrush i can borrow?"

"ah, right. i should have some spare ones lying around. come, i'll show you."

it's nearly 2 am by the time wonwoo's in bed (couch), changed into some oversized shorts you had and sporting the same skincare that you used every night. it's all a little much for his poor heart, doing these domestic things with you as if he hasn't been down bad for you since he can remember. 

"okay~ goodnight, woo, sleep tight!" you call out. you pat his cheek, crouching next to the couch as you watch him settle down for the night. he mumbles back a goodnight somewhat quietly and you can't help but laugh to yourself at how adorable wonwoo looked.

"tell me if you need anything, okay?"

you stand up, ready to head to bed yourself and really, wonwoo should be thankful he can be alone at last, perhaps, collect his thoughts and rest his brain for the day. but being up so late must be getting to his reason because he reaches out to hold your wrist when you're about to leave, with a hurried, "wait!"

you stop with a raised brow, "what's wrong?"

"my goodnight kiss!" he blurts out with a sudden rush of courage. "i need one to fall asleep."

silence follows his words and wonwoo's ear slowly start to burn up when he hears the echoes of his absurd request playing back in his mind. he lets go of your wrist just as quickly he'd reached for it, covering up with a half-laugh, "i was just kidding. good night!" 

a beat passes and he thinks you must really find him ridiculous to not respond to anything he's said but before he can dig himself any further into the hole he's made, he feels your hair brush against his skin. he barely has time to register your body leaning over him when he feels you lips press against his cheek. the moment should last forever but it's over all too quick. wonwoo can't see your face in the darkness but he hears your voice near his ear, breath soft, "good night, woo."

he could die now, he really could, and he would die a happy man. he muffles the sound that escapes his throat when he hears the door to your room creak as you close it behind you. you, on the other hand, stare at yourself in the mirror in disbelief at what just happened. 

you really didn't know what to make of wonwoo's request out of the blue, but something about the way he looked so cozy, hair sticking out every which way in the moonlight that spilled into your living room, something about this night in general had you feeling strange. you felt the same itch you'd felt when you found yourself unable to take your eyes off a sleeping wonwoo. it's like when you encounter a beautiful cat lounging in the sun and had to drop everything so you could take in its joyful existence. you couldn't move an inch, completely fascinated by this being before you.

"what the fuck am i thinking…" you mumble, feeling your cheeks warm up. "i must be really tired." 

turns out even after a night's sleep you feel as confused as you did when you fell asleep. with a grunt of frustration, you roll over in bed and choose to scroll on your phone to distract yourself for a bit. it's almost 11 when you hear a knock on your door. you contemplate pretending to be asleep but then there's another knock, followed by wonwoo's, "y/n?"

you feel too bad leaving wonwoo to fend for himself in your home so you force yourself out of bed, patting your hair down as you pad over to the door. "hey, morning–" 

your greeting is interrupted mid-way when wonwoo's face moves close to you – hilariously close until he's kissing your cheek. your breath catches in your throat and you freeze up. wonwoo stands back up, arms on the doorway, a small smirk on his face. what had possesed him overnight? 

you could only ponder in defeat when he merrily called out, "good morning! did you sleep well?" 

"i… did…" you start and then stop, hand coming up to the cheek where wonwoo had kissed you. "what was that for…" you wonder more to yourself but wonwoo picks up your flustered question and shrugs.

"i was only paying you back for your goodnight kiss," he smiles, unsettling you to your very guts, "that was your good morning kiss."

you groan, suddenly losing all clarity. frustrated, hiding the blush creeping up your neck, "you know that's not a real thing…" but where you mean to sound harsh, you simply sound bewildered. wonwoo swallows his chuckle and pats your head, "i'm hungry. can you make me breakfast?"

you glare at him, trying to figure out what his real plan was but he simply follows up with, "pretty please? you wouldn't let a guest in your home leave on an empty stomach, right?"

"i- uh, let me wash my face and i'll make you something," you say, pausing for a split second befroe shutting the door in wonwoo's face. you speedrun your morning routine despite your very best efforts to act and thus, feel normal, you wash your face and brush at your teeth at an abnormal speed. you stare at yourself in the mirror when you consider changing out of your pjyamas and mentally scold yourself for acting like an idiot.

"stupid," you tell yourself as you leave your room to find wonwoo cackling at his phone screen. no matter how you look at it, wonwoo's acting different… he seems more confident, or rather, full of conviction, though you couldn't think of any reason why that would be. 

etiher way, in an attempt to act normal, you start making eggs for breakfast, scrambled and slightly runny the way you know wonwoo likes them. "toast?" you ask him as you whip the eggs onto a plate. "yes,," he calls out, "with some butter, please!"

you sigh as you place a slice of toast on his plate, sliding it toward him. you plop the stick of butter next to him with a knife and tell him with a sarcastic smile, "you can butter your own toast." 

"i sure can," he says with a satisfied smile. you really can't understand what he was thinking and it pisses you off, but not nearly enough to sit next to him as you dig into your own plate of eggs.

"as thanks for feeding me two meals in a row," wonwoo starts, swallowing a mouthful of food, "can i do anything for you? buy you a new pan? go grocery shopping with you?"

"i'm good, thanks."

he frowns at your curt reply. "ohh, how about a movie? it could make for a solid saturday night."

"sorry, i've a date tonight, remember?"

"ah, that," he says, flatly, "i mean, if you have time later right?"

"i'm pretty sure i'm gonna be beat by the time i'm done with the date. maybe tomorrow," you say but you know he can tell you're only half-heartedly saying so. he gives up after, thankfully for you. 

"all right, i should get going! as it turns out i forgot my clothes in the dryer for two days straight and someone threw them onto the floor…" you let out a horrified gasp at wonwoo's casual confession, "so i should probably deal with that."

"dude, please, why aren't you running back to your dorm right now?" 

"alright, alright, i get it! see you later, y/n!"

with that, the man's off, seeming somewhat appropriately concerned for his clothes now. you sigh once you hear the door close after him, resting your forhead on your fist. your head hurts and it's not even noon. you're mostly just having a hard time comprehending the last 12 hours you spent with wonwoo. 

it's not out of the ordinary for you to do impromptu things with him like this but you feel strangely empty now that he's gone. what's worse is your mind keeps replaying this morning when he kissed your cheek like a broken record. it makes you feel like a pervert, thinking about the kiss as if it wasn't wonwoo, your best friend for life. plus, there's that itchy feeling that won't let up every time you think about him. "man, this sucks," you groan out, opening your phone, "and i still have to get ready for that date." 

in an efffort to clear out the weariness you feel, you hop into the shower and take extra long in there, singing along to the new txt album and letting your worries wash away with the new vanilla scented body wash you'd bought earliere that week. without a doubt, you feel much better after, patting your damp skin down with some skincare.

that's when you're suddenly reminded of how last night wonwoo had crouched next to you, ridiculously focused on applying the products you handed him all over his face. he looked adorable, straining to get every pore covered as his fingers ran over his face. he had to squint of course since you'd told him you wouldn't stand him getting your precious skincare all over his glasses. after he was done, he'd elbowed you lightly, "how do i look?" 

"so clean and healthy, my princess," you joked as you patted him on the head. the proud look on his face made you swoon a little–

what the actual fuck. "fuck," you curse out loud when you realize you'd lost your newly regained sanity to the walk down last night's memory lane. "what the fuck," you repeat under your breath as you through your last steps in a hurry. you feel yourself spiralling again when a ping on your phone saves you. 

it's minghao.

minghao: afternoon, y/n! hope u slept well last night :)

minghao: just wanted to tell you i might be a little late cuz i forgot i had to run an errand for my mom! sorry

you melt a little at how sincere he is in informing you of every little change in your plans and can't help but feel a little guilty for viewing the date as a burden. that's right, you owed it to minghao to respect the date and approach it with an open mind. confusing feelings for your best friend for another day. 

you: hey!! thx for telling me but don't worry about it 

you: i'll text you when i get there so you know where to find me 

minghao: that would be great yay

minghao: can't wait to see you 

you: me either :) 

— 

minghao is amazing, exactly as you expected him to be. he shows up at the exact ETA he'd texted you earlier and not without a whole rose in his hand. when you turn impossibly red and shake his kindness away with a, "...but i didn't get you anything," he smiles and tells you to take it, "it's an apology for me being late to our first date." 

you inwardly lose it over his emphasis on first date and calm yourself down, accepting the rose with a thankful smile. you had to keep it together if you want there to be another date, for real. he's incredibly sweet the whole time, walking through the museum at a comfortable pace – enough that you'd be able to admire the piece but not too long that you ended up staring into nothing. 

after over an hour of perusing the museum's collection, your feet start to hurt a little, no thanks to the uncomfortable loafers you'd brought out for the special ocassion. it's like minghao senses your discomfort and offers to rest at the museum's in-house cafe and get some refreshments. "ahh, i'd love that," you mumble shyly, embarassed that he could see through you so well. 

over coffee, you try not to stare at minghao, noticing the few strangers who would pass by your table and do a double take at the man in front of you. he did catch the eye, what with his blonde hair which sat just right by the nape of his neck. you couldn't think of the last time you'd seen someone pull off a mullet so well.

"sorry if i'm a little out of it today," minghao starts with a small smile, "i slept much later than i usually do because my friend came over without notice."

"wait, you won't believe it but something really similar happened to me last night too," you say with a grin. "what did your friend want?" 

"really?" he asks with a similar smile. "also, well, he's not really a friend, more like a former roommate who can't get over the fact that i got a job and now have my own place. he likes to cope by barging in and having meals with me or watching a movie."

"wow, it's insane how similar your story is… my friend's still in college so he likes to also barge in and eat my food that i cook and watch stuff with me."

the two of you share a laugh, thrilled at the newfound similarity. "that's cool, we're like each other in a lot of ways, huh?"

"yeah, that's pretty cool," you agree. this is bad. you can't stop smiling. was minghao always this charming?

not that you would know, you remind yourself, laughing at his blunt sense of humour all throughout lunch, barely focused on the taste of the pasta minghao had ordered. you feel unlike yourself. like you're floating and all you could feel was minghao's magnetic charm, keeping you focused on him and him alone. or maybe that was the wine talking. 

that's how you end up at your place, kissing his face, before you can comprehend the situation. "fuck," you breathe between kisses, "i don't usually kiss on the first date." 

minghao pulls away with a small grin, "i don't either." with that, he kisses you again. and again. eventually, you make it to the couch, each somewhat recovering in their own way. now that you're back to your senses a little, you're more than glad things didn't go any further with minghao. it really was only the first date. you would hate to regret any of it later. 

"oh, i'm so rude, i didn't even offer you a drink or anything," you stand up, embarassed, "can i get you something? water? tea? coffee? um, i also have beer but i don't know if that's to your taste." 

minghao chuckles, "you don't have to worry, y/n. i'm good as it is."

"no, that won't do. we've been here for like 20 minutes and i haven't even gotten you water," you say, walking over to the kitchen.

"to be fair," you hear minghao say smugly, "we were kinda occupied for a hot second."

"...right," you mumble, reddening a little, "well, i'm gonna get you something whether you want it or not, so what will it be?" 

"some tea would be great," he admits finally. "nice, two teas coming up in five," you call out. you spend another 30 minutes just talking to minghao over tea, when you hear a knock at your door. you frown. 

you try to excuse yourself but minghao gets a phone call at that very second so you silently gesture to the door and he nods in understanding. you open the door and almost close it right back when you see wonwoo on the other side. he's grinning, all merry as if he didn't just interrupt your date. 

"wonwoo?" you question, "can i help you?"

"wow, that's cold," he says. "am i interrupting something?"

"actually, yes. remember the date i had today?"

"i thought that was just some boring stuff like museum and italian food?? now, he's followed you home??" 

you shush wonwoo urgently, thankful that minghao was still on the phone and couldn't hear his rude comments. "wonwoo, i'm busy. i'll hang tomorrow–"

"no, i wanna say hi to your date," wonwoo declares, pushing by you and into the living room where minghao talking on the phone. "rude, bro's on the phone in the middle of a date."

before you can ridicule wonwoo's stupid reasoning, minghao turns around, apparently done with his call and raises a brow when he spots the new figure next to you. you grimace apologetically, "sorry, minghao, this is the friend i was telling you about earlier. i tried to stop him but he wanted to say hi–"

"you've been badmouthing me behind my back?" wonwoo interrupts you with an unimpressed look, shaking his head. "whatever she's told you about me, i'm sorry. i'm wonwoo, nice to meet you."

minghao stands up and strides over to shake wonwoo's hand like the nice guy he is and introduces himself. "nice to meet you, too. i'm minghao." 

"i just came by because we had plans tonight," he says, with a side glance at your perplexed face, "but i guess i must've gotten the time wrong or something."

"oh, no, no, you're probably right. i've been here longer than planned," wonwoo doesn't miss the small smile minghao throws at you. "but i should head out, too. i also have some guests coming over later tonight."

you look deflated at how things are going, "are you sure?" minghao nods as he gathers his things – things such as a brown leather jacket that looked more expensive than any item of clothing wonwoo owned – and heads for the door. you follow him like a lost puppy. 

when you reach the door, out of wonwoo's earshot, you apologize to wonwoo again and he brushes your sorrys off, "don't worry about it. i'm the one who should be sorry for taking off like this. i would've liked to spend time with your friend."

"i don't know how that would've gone down," you say uneasily, "but thank you for today. really. it was great."

"i'm glad to hear that," minghao says with a grin. he reaches close and hugs you, a warmth radiating between you when he pulls away. "thank you for letting me take you out. i hope we can do it again some time." with that he places a kiss on your cheek and takes his leave. 

once he's gone, you go back inside and sigh, a mix of feelings in your chest. on the one hand, you feel uneasy now that your date with minghao is over, doubtful of whether he really meant his words about wanting to go on another date with you. your past experience had taught you can never tell with men, even if they told you they loved spending time with you with the sweetest smile on their lips. 

on the other hand, you were now alone with wonwoo, which was a whole another problem on its own. a problem you didn't feel equipped to handle right now. not when you still hadn't sorted your feelings about him out. whatever it was, it wasn't easy and it sure as hell didn't become any easier when wonwoo was staring you down, intently. 

"...wonwoo," you start, voice low, "i'm really sorry but i don't have the energy for this right now. i just want to head to bed now."

wonwoo doesn't hide the look of hurt on his face. "what? it's like six right now."

"yeah, but i've had a long day and–"

"is this because i interrupted your date with minghao?"

you feel an rush of annoyance rush to your head but reign it for the sake of your friendship. "it's not about anything other than the fact that i'm tired."

"you seemed perfectly energetic when minghao was here. why'd you invite him over anyway? i thought you kept it chill on the first date." 

"well, have you considered that i just genuinely liked him enough to bring him over? more importantly, i don't see how any of this is your business, wonwoo."

"of course it is! i care about you–"

"if you care about me, maybe don't cut my date short next time!" 

the silence is resounding, following your silence and you hate yourself when you see the grave look on wonwoo's face. he was being for real right now. but you really can't bring yourself to understand him.

"wonwoo, i'm sorry, i just don't know what you want from me, okay? i thought you would support me when i'm finally have some luck finding a boyfriend–"

"what i don't understand is why you want to find a boyfriend so bad. i think you're happy enough as it is and you only seem to become upset over men. why invite heartbreak into your life–"

"because i'm a romantic, wonwoo. i just want to fall in love!" you tell him, "i got degree my parents wanted, settled for a job that makes me enough money and maybe a little happy sometimes, but the one thing i want to do for myself is find someone i can love. i want to experience love, at least once in my life. is that really so bad?"

wonwoo scoffs much to your utter disbelief, "some romantic you are…"

"what the fuck did you just say?" 

you see him visibly inhale deeply and sigh. "y/n, i don't have a problem with you finding love." 

"really? because it sure looks like you do? i know you don't really care about love but–"

"why would you think that?" 

"well, have you ever been in love?" you ask him incredulously. 

"of course i have!" he cries out, "i'm in love with you, y/n." 

"you wouldn't–" you start when he says he's been in love and then stumble over your words when you hear his next words. you stop short with your mouth hanging open, "you're– wait, what?"

over the recent years, wonwoo had thought about whether his feelings really needed to be said out loud at this point – he felt like he was crazy obvious. but looking at the shocked look on your face right now, it was clear that if you would never have figured out his feelings without him telling you. which is fair, he can't expect you read people's minds but what really got his heart in a twist was the fact that you hadn't even remotely considered him liking you, which meant you were far from liking him back. 

though this a fact he's gotten used to, he feels the sting stronger than usual, maybe because the last day has him confused. to be honest, when you'd kissed him without a warning, it got to his head. thought maybe he had a chance after all. it was that high he'd been riding the whole time; that morning when he shamelessly kissed your cheek, this evening when he invited himself into your place when he knew you had a date over. 

but now he's positive he was delusional because all you have are platonic feelings for him at the end of the day.

"wonwoo, i'm sorry, i had absolutely no idea that–" you don't even know what to say, you cut yourself off, "i'm- i can't give you a clear answer right now. but if you give me some time, i promise i can."

"you don't have to answer me, y/n," wonwoo says with a bittersweet smile, "i know how you feel about me. but i had to tell you at least once before i gave up. i don't want you to feel burdened by my confession, just– why don't you forget about it?"

you blink at his words slowly, "but–"

"i should probably leave," he says, "i've long overstayed my welcome here." with that, he heads for the door, not heeding your requests for him to wait a second, "sorry for ruining your date by the way," he calls out as he leaves without another glance. 

– 

it takes you a whole day of overthinking your entire life – after all, that's how long you'd known wonwoo now – to come anywhere close to an answer. and really, it's not much. so far this is what you have: 

a week ago, you had never once considered wonwoo as more than a friend. maybe the best friend you'd ever have, perhaps a rare and special connection that you wouldn't have with another person. while the idea had come up, through other people doubting the purely platonic nature of your relationship, you had truly never entertained the thought. not because you had something against it, but because you were convinced a link like the one you had with wonwoo was only possible in a friendship. 

but then last night had happened, and something had possesed you to kiss him on the cheek – that something might've something to do with the itch in your body every time he was closer than normal, something to do with the way you'd been captivated by his sleeping form. 

and reflecting back, you were dumbfounded by how many times wonwoo had tried to hint at his feelings. a few years ago, when you'd gotten drunk with friends back in college, they'd dared wonwoo to kiss the person he liked and he'd politely declined, muttering that he couldn't kiss someone who was being pursued by someone else. as it turns out, and as you had been too stupid to realize, you had been the only one there in a talking stage with a guy you'd met at your part-time job. 

then, there was the way he always responded to you quickly, no matter what, ready to do things he was otherwise reluctant to do. always asking to spend time, always trying to stay close. there was also the eye-contact that he barely made with other friends, even other people – the way you'd look at him to find him already looking at you. 

"i'm an idiot," you tell yourself as you stare at wonwoo's contact on your phone, wanting to hear his voice but not when you still were so undecided. 

that's how it gets all the way to friday and you still haven't reached out to wonwoo. if you're daft reaction to his feelings hadn't closed the deal, your radio silence for the past week sure did. but unwilling to accept that truth, you call him, only a little surprised when he doesn't pick up. 

he must be mad, you think. but as much as that thought scares you, you can't stand giving up already. you end up making your way to his college campus, hoping he'd be in his room, even though it was 6 on a friday night. 

uncertainly, you knock on his door. and then louder a few more times when you don't hear a response. you're close to giving up and walking yourself home when you hear faint voices inside. "--sick of you making me open the door every time—" it's wonwoo's roommate, mingyu. he stands before you, in boxers and incredibly shirtless, and you think you should've at least texted wonwoo that you were coming over. 

but despite your apprehensions, mingyu doesn't seem embarassed, just amused. "oh? it's noona." 

you can't help but smile lightly at mingyu's use of the honorific, as if you weren't only a few months older than him. but him continuing the yearslong tradition reassured you, though you were sure he'd heard some foul things about you from wonwoo over the past few days. 

"hey, mingyu," you wave uncertainly, and try to get a look into the room past him with no avail, "sorry to show up like this, but is wonwoo around? i was trying to reach out to him but he didn't pick up." 

"ah, right, wonwoo…" mingyu says as if he didn't quite know who you were talking about. you can see the gears turning in his head, probably considering if he should tell you the truth or not. the choice is made for him when wonwoo's voice reaches you. he's screaming, "KIM MINGYU, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS BACK RIGHT NOW— WE'RE FUCKING LOSING OUR LEAD BECAUSE OF–" 

you stifle a laugh at mingyu's guilty expression. "right, so he is here," you comment in what you hope is a neutral tone. "you think i can see him?" 

he pauses, looking unsure, "listen, i don't know the full details of what happened with you guys, but wonwoo's been really quiet the past week and i'm not sure if seeing you right now– if he's in the right state of mind…" 

"is that so…" you mumble disheartenedly, though this was a fact that you yourself had been grappling with. "i guess i should leave him alone, then." you're about to take your leave when an arm drapes itself over mingyu's bare shoulder, wonwoo's face poking into your view. 

you freeze up when you lock eyes with wonwoo's face, his smile visibly disappearing. "y/n? what're you doing here?" 

"i was just–" you rub your neck, looking away in an attempt to come up with a credible excuse, "i was just taking a walk around here and thought i'd drop by to say hi. but um, since you guys seem busy, i'll just find another time. anyway, good night!" 

with that, you take yourself out of their sight, rushing down the stairs to the room so fast that you almost trip over and die. thankfully though you've made it to the door that leads out without actually leaving a crime scene on the poor residents' hands. 

"y/n! wait!" 

you stop in your tracks when wonwoo's voice echoes in the stairwell and almost lose all feeling in your knees when you see him run after you, out of breath. "god, woman, since when have you been this fast?"

"sorry," you say quietly, though you're not sure why you're apologizing. 

"can we talk?" 

you look up at him in surprise, "...that should be my line."

"i know, gyu told me why you actually came by," wonwoo admits with a deep sigh, "that idiot, i can't believe he tried to shoo you away without even letting you in. sorry about him."

"no, he was just trying to protect your peace. i get it."

"really? in what world is keeping a guy from the girl of his dreams 'protecting his peace'?"

you gasp at wonwoo's blatant admission and swallow against the lump in your throat. wonwoo looks tired, you can tell from the bags under his eyes and the way his shoulder is set, and you feel guilty for adding to his exisiting stress. you owe it to him to give him a proper closure. 

"wonwoo, i'm so sorry i didn't reach out to talk this past week. i was just so in my head figuring things out and i kept losing the guts to face you. i truly can't express how much i treasure what we have, and honestly, i'm starting to doubt if it was always platonic. because somewhere along the way, i got so used to being around you, i didn't think about what it meant to be that close to someone.

"that being said, i still can't wrap my head around how i feel. i know it's not the clear answer i promised you, but if you give me a little bit more time, i will be able to think it through. but i understand if you wanna keep your distance with me while i do that. sorry." 

"why do you keep apologizing?" wonwoo asks you, brows set in confusion, "you're maybe the sweetest person ever to even think so hard about your feelings for me. and i understand if you need time, it's years' worth of feelings after all… but, there's one thing…" 

you perk up at the last part of his words, "yeah, what is it?"

"i don't think i can keep my distance from you," he says, eyes dropping to his feet for a few beats before meeting yours again, "i thought about it and honestly, the worst thing about the past week was that i couldn't just thoughtlessly intrude into your house and eat with you after a long day. maybe that's on me for having quality time as my love language, but god, y/n, i think i'd be a miserable man if i had to live without you."

"wonwoo, i…" 

"i'm warning you, if you say sorry one more time, i'm gonna do something bad. plus, i feel much lighter now that the cat's out of the bag. i can finally be the truest version of myself around you."

swallowing the millionth apology on your tongue, you say, "then let's not avoid each other. maybe spending time with you will help me understand how i feel–" you stop yourself mid-sentence when you hear what it sounds like, "wait, no, that sounds insensitive… what i meant was–"

"wait, no, you might actually be onto something," wonwoo says and you feel a chill run down your spine at the smirk that takes hold over his face. "perhaps i can find a way to make you sure about me? like, seduce you?"

"what? that's not what i was suggesting–" 

"i know but it's what i am suggesting!" he says, slowly closing in on you, hand coming to rest atop your head. "maybe i can finally let go and do the impulsive things i've wanted to do– don't worry, all within a limit, of course. think of it as the talking stage?" 

"the talking stage?" when he puts it like that, you can see some reason behind it. it wasn't serious enough to be a relationship but still served as a step up from your normal friendship with wonwoo. "i guess that wouldn't be not fine…"

"wouldn't be not fine…" wonwoo repeats your words under his breath, "so you're fine with it??" he sighs in relief, fingering coming to brush through your hair before they returned by his side. "alright then! glad we came to an understanding! now, i'm sorry i must excuse myself for i promised kim mingyu i'd be back at game night in no time." 

"oh yeah, you should definitely get back to game night," you say with a soft smile, but then catch him by the wrist as he turns around, "oh, wonwoo! thanks for letting me say my thing, by the way… and i'm sorry."

he sighs lowly at that, pulling you into a hug, "what did i say about apologizing again? now i have to do a bad thing or i'll be someone who doesn't keep his word." before you can protest, he pulls apart and leans in close to kiss your cheek. then he kisses your other cheek– and then, your forehead. you're turning beet red by the time he stops at your nose, laughing at your struck expression. "alright, now we're good. and i should be the one thanking you for taking my feelings seriously. i'll see you later, yeah? we should do something tomorrow since it's a saturday." 

"yeah," you agree and give him a slight push away, "okay, now go do your thing with mingyu or he's gonna hate me even more."

"he doesn't hate you, he's just–"

"don't wanna hear it! go play your games, gameboy!" 

"alright, miss, whatever you say."

– 

"watch it," wonwoo warns you, eyes fixed on your screen, "no, no, don't go that way, the turret's gonna hit you."

"i don't understand," you whine, "there's too many things on my screen." 

when you'd agreed to let wonwoo teach you how to play one of his favorite games, league of legends, you hadn't forseen the amount of stress would running in your veins. your head hurts and your vision is blurry. you've just started and you're only up against the easiest level of bots but every time you step outside the safety of your base, you seem to get immediately obliterated. 

"okay, y/n, here, let me show you," wonwoo shifts closer to you and if anything, it makes it harder to focus when you feel his shoulder come to rest against yours. at the same time, his warmth soothes you somewhat when he calmly instructs you where to go and how to attack the enemy. his tips help you drastically and in the next ten minutes, you've gotten to the enemy's turret, eventually scoring a kill.

"wonwoo! i got my first kill! did you see that?" you turn to him with a bright grin and find him sporting a similar grin, his hand coming to pat your head. "you did so well!" 

that's how you slowly make it through the first game, securing a victory, mostly thanks to wonwoo's overpowered skills, destroying his own lane and getting to the base in no time. "god, you're such a show-off," you mumble when you see the dramatic difference in KDAs on the final stat summary page. "i don't think i was built to be a gamer." 

"now why would you say that?"

"look at me, woo! i'm sweating my balls off and that was only against bots! i won't last a day in the real world," you complain with a pout, "plus my fingers aren't fast like yours. i take forever to cast my skill and by that time, it's too late."

"y/n, it took me like a week of playing to get my first kill against a bot," wonwoo tells with a grimace, "so the fact that you got through that with a decent KDA is incredible. and my fingers got because i played so much, i didn't get good in a day."

you sigh, resting your head on the couch, "hmm, you have a point."

"but we can call it day if you're tired," he says with a smile, coming back to rest his shoulder next to you and following your resting figure, "thanks for trying though."

"it was fun, but i'm gonna need a week before i can touch this game again."

you feel the laugh that leaves wonwoo in your own chest, the sound filling you with his joy, as if it were your own. without thinking about it, you shuffle closer to him, a soft sigh escaping you when you feel his bicep harden against your arm. 

"you good?" he asks you in a low voice when you stay unmoving for a while. you nod with your eyes still closed. "i'm doing great," you say, "just recharging." when wonwoo doesn't say anything in response, you take a peek at him to see him looking at you sideways, with a goofy smile. 

"mind telling me why you're looking at me like that?" 

"nothing, i just thought it was cute how you volunteered to play league for our date when you don't even know how to play."

you flush, "well, i figured i'd have you teaching me the ropes. and i've been wanting to play with you because you said it's one of your favorite games." 

"that's sweet of you, isn't it?" wonwoo says, unable to stop smiling. "you always treat me so well." 

"i do, for some reason. it's almost like i'm attached to my best friend or something."

you bite your tongue when you accidently let the words slip, tensing up as you start to correct yourself. "i didn't mean it like–" 

"y/n, don't worry about it," wonwoo shushes you with the same smile he's had this whole time. "i know what you meant. and i'm flattered." 

you sigh in relief as you drop your eyes to your lap, fiddling with your fingers, somewhat nervous for no real reason all of a sudden. maybe it's because you're conscious of wonwoo, afraid to slip up again and say something hurtful.

"you don't have to be so careful around me, you know?" he starts, "i've lived with this feelings for a while so it takes a lot for me to sway. and remember no matter what happens between us, i'm always gonna be your friend at the end of the day." 

"thank you for saying that," you say quietly, eyes still on your hands, feeling guilty. 

"hey, at least look at me if you want to show your gratitude."

"i can't. i'm…" you trail off, and then, "i'm sorry." 

"there it is again," wonwoo groans, "now you've done it. i'll have to punish you again for apologizing." his hand comes to rest atop your restless ones, slowly stopping your uneasy movements and intertwining his fingers with yours. and then steadily, he takes your hand close to his lips, placing a soft kiss against the knuckles. "the more you say sorry, the more i'm gonna have to work harder to make sure you fall in love with me, okay? and it's honestly pretty bad for my heart if i keep having to do things like this, so spare me."

bad for your heart? you question him in your head but don't voice iti, shaking your head at wonwoo's sly words. "you're insane," you murmur. 

"alright, that's more like it." 

– 

the following week, you see new sides of wonwoo because he takes it on himself to do all kinds things that are out of the blue for him. for one, he's been labelling every hang-out as a date, even when that day entailed perfectly normal activities you'd done a million times over with him. "it's an attempt to rewire your brain," he tells you with a foxy grin, "i'm making sure you don't forget to view me as a love interest."

speaking of love interests, he'd been straightforward with you that if you wanted to go out with minghao that would be fine. but you'd declined the possibility because you wouldn't know what to do with yourself around him now that you were immersed in the uncertainties of your relationship with wonwoo. and on thinking long and hard about the date with minghao, you'd gotten the feeling that you were interested in his looks more than anything. sure, he'd been so charming but it was wonwoo that was keeping you up at night. 

that's why you find a way to turn him down when he asks if you'd like to go on another date with him:

minghao: hey, y/n! there's a night market near where i live this weekend

minghao: i've never been able to go but i've heard it's super pretty

minghao: so i was wondering if you'd like to come with me? :) 

you: hey, minghao

you: i'm sorry, i don't think i can see you again

you: i really enjoyed our date but there's someone else i'm talking to atm

minghao: oh

minghao: i see

minghao: dw about it! it was nice to see you either way!minghao: but just out of curiosity, is this new person your friend from the other day?

you: huh??

minghao: you know the one who came to your place when i was over

you: …it is him

you: how'd u know

minghao: hehe i just got a vibe

minghao: he looked at you like you were lovers in another lifetime

you: girl what 

you: i mean that's so sweet but really?? didn't he just look at me like i was going to feed him for the night?

minghao: no way, when a guy looks at u like that… i don't know how else to say it but he'd love if you were a worm

you: interesting

you: thanks? idk

you: you're cool for a guy that just got rejected 

minghao: it's ok, i'm sure i can land another date in time for the night market ;)

you: of course you can 

you: goodnight minghao :)

minghao: night, y/n! maybe we'll meet as friends someday 

you: maybe…

"damn it, he's smooth…" wonwoo whines when you show him your screen the next day, only after you've made him promise you that he wouldn't jump to conclusions. "i don't think i can stand you being friends with him. like ever."

"wonwoo, i don't think that's gonna happen. but even if it did, i don't know, i think he'd make a great friend."

"oh he most definitely would. that's precisely the problem. i can't be outdone by another man like that," he says in a ridiculously grave tone, "he's too cool. i wouldn't stand a chance against him."

"you realize that the only reason i'm not going on that date with him is because i'd rather go on a date with you?" you poke wonwoo's arm with a soft smile.

the man hesitates, processing your words before a smile breaks out onto his face. "wait— i mean, of course i know i'm– wait, does that mean you–?"

"i'm in love with you, wonwoo. i think i've always been. i was just too much of an idiot to understand it."

wonwoo's imagined you saying something along these lines a lot but what he's been far more prepared for is you rejecting him. for the longest time, he's lived with the reality of you not reciprocating his feelings and that's honestly what became normal for him along the way. so when you look into his eyes, it's like you're looking into his soul and leaving him completely starstuck. all he can see is you before him for a solid few seconds before he truly comprehends you. 

"don't look so shocked! i thought this whole week was for this exact outcome!" you laugh at his speechlessness. 

"right," wonwoo swallows against his dry throat, suddenly shyer than he's ever been, "i'm just shocked. i didn't expect for it to actually work? i don't know, are you sure you love me? it's not just as a friend? like, i'd understand if it's just because we've known each for the longest time and seen each other through hard times."

"wonwoo…" you exhale, "are you rejecting my feelings right now?"

"no! of course not!"

"then why are you doubting me? i know how i feel about you. that's the whole reason why i took so long to give you an answer."

"i know," his gaze drops to the floor, head reeling a little. this is what he's wanted deep down for the longest time so he can't help but feel like he's dreaming right now. 

when you hear the doubt in his voice, you take his face in your hands, forcing him to look back at you. "wonwoo," you shake him, "i love you." you peck him on the nose. "i want you to be my boyfriend, if you'll have me."

"of fucking course," wonwoo seems to return to his senses when you press your lips against his skin. cheeks red and eyes wide, his hands find your body, fingers already by your jaw, pulling you closer. "i love you so much, i think it'll kill me one day. but for now i think being your boyfriend will do." 

you giggle at his dramatic statement and close the distance between you, feeling the warm of his breath like never before. he kisses you back immediately, letting out a low groan at the action, the hand at your waist, squeezing you lovingly. 

"can't believe i waited so long to do that," he says when the two of you pull back. 

you kiss his cheek with a soft mewl, "you're so warm, woo." 

"am i?" he wonders, arms moving on their own as they bring you closer to his chest. he kisses your forehead, "now we can both be warm." 

— 

"okay, okay, i'm ready to leave," you call out victoriously as you step out into the living room. wonwoo looks up from the projector screen where he's currently rewatching a run-through of a new game was gonna try out for his channel. but he immediately loses the smart comment he was gonna throw out there when he sees you, all dolled up and showing off the dress you're wearing with a smug smile.

it's a simple blue dress with a modest neck and long skirt that hugged your hips perfectly. and it also happened to be the dress wonwoo's birthday gift to you last year. you'd worn it out with him before but this is definitely the first time you'd taken it out on a proper date. and how appropriate for it to be a date with wonwoo himself. 

"you like?" you ask him as you walk closer to him, running a hand through his hair. 

"i love," he replies instantly, arm coming to your lower back, "you look heavenly. god, do we have to go out? i don't mind just staying here and watching you in this dress."

"no," you decline his ridiculous request firmly, "i've been wanting to visit this bookstore for the past year. so i'm sorry, love, but you'll have to do with watching me read if you really want to be creepy."

"it's not creepy if i'm your boyfriend, is it now?"

"...maybe."

"alright, i think i'm good to go then! let's go!" 

at the bookstore, you genuinely have to shake wonwoo off your back and force him to find a book he likes before you leave. he complains and whines about how he just wants to enjoy his girlfriend's taste in books but when he does finally wander off, you find him engrossed in a book he found in the science-fiction section.

you sneak up onto him with a grin, "enjoying yourself?"

he looks up, "...surprisingly. but only because i got kicked out…"

"you wanna get that?" you ask him, taking a glance at the book cover. "just drop in here," you show him your basket that already has a couple of your picks in it.

"you're buying?"

"mhm, think of it as a token of our first real date?"

wonwoo smiles, eyes bright, "alright then. thanks." 

after that, the two of you walk over to the restaurant wonwoo had had reservations at. it was also a fairly new place but had gotten popular for being a couples' hot spot. and wonwoo understands why when the waiter shows you to your table for the night– it's secluded by a corner on the porch, with nothing but a candle illuminating the surroundings. 

"ah, we can also move the table so that both chairs are next to each other?" the waiter says with a polite smile, "would you like that?"

"yes, please!" wonwoo calls out enthusiastically and you squeeze his hand with a chuckle as the waiter nods and shifts for the rearrangement. 

"this is perfect," he says when you sit next to him. "this way, i can still hold your hand," he mutters. 

"you're cute," you tell him with a soft grin, "i love you."

wonwoo leans in to kiss your lips softly, leaving you a little breathless when he slips in a quiet, " and i love you more than you could imagine." 

author's note:

oh my god this fic took everything out of me to get out there... took a whole entire week but she's here, i really hope you guys like it!! i'm really down bad for wonwoo recently, to the point that he might've joined my bias line haha... more reason why tomorrow's gonna kill me. honestly though, this man will keep me going through some tough times (aka jeonghan and wonwoo shortage).

also, i lowkey fell in love with minghao while writing him here so expect a fic soon??? lol idk for a moment there i was confused who this fic was really for (sorry wonwoo i love u tho). as always, thank you for reading and i love reading what you think so please do let me know <3

[scoutofmymind]

Saw that someone said Luigi’s Reddit had a post where he eluded to a pretty heavy drinking habit in college, which then makes me think about drunk ex!luigi. I’m sorry, but you write angst too well

Unlearn Me — { Luigi x Reader}

Content: SFW, angst, yearning, slight pining, mentions of canon back pain, ex’s reminiscing, heartbreak all over again.

Wc: 4,336 (holy shit)

Notes; Two semesters of carefully crafted distance crumbles at 3AM in the computer lab when your final project implodes hours before the deadline, leaving you with no choice but to seek help from the one person you've been avoiding since the breakup.

Before we continue, I cannot ignore that wildfires continue to ravage Los Angeles, countless families have lost their homes and livelihoods. I urge you to consider supporting those affected through any of these donation links, additionally, Roadogs on Instagram is looking for fosters for mass evacuations of shelter dogs in California.

Foster or donate if you can. xo.

Now, let’s go.

"Mother fucker," you curse, attacking your keyboard with increasingly desperate keystrokes.

Each combination might be the one to salvage this disaster, but deep down you know it's hopeless — your software has corrupted itself into oblivion, taking six months of work with it.

"You can ask for an extension," Emma suggests, her voice carrying the weight of exhaustion that matches your own. Your roommate had burst into the media center still wearing her pink silk pajamas, immediately launching into a nervous tirade about after-hours permissions and potential expulsion risks.

Her constant hovering and worrying grates on your last nerve, and you tell her to leave.

Predictably, she refuses.

"Listen, I'm not just gonna leave you here on your own." She leans across your workspace, her body pressing against your laptop screen until it tilts halfway closed. You freeze, fingers suspended above the keys, terrified of losing what little progress you've made in this digital archaeology expedition. "There's - like - a murderer on campus."

"One girl said she was followed home," you gently remind. Under normal circumstances, Emma's mother-hen routine would be endearing — charming, even. But right now, with your project in shambles and deadline looming, her protective hovering feels suffocating. "Not murdered, Em."

"May as well have been." Emma fixes you with that look — the one that screams why am I the only rational person here? While her nails tap nervously against your desk. "Probably hasn't left her room since. And you know what? Smart girl.”

You scrub your hands over your face, your eyes fixed on the projector's word vomit — an endless stream of error messages and unintelligible code painting the drywall from a tired projector like some twisted modern art piece.

Not exactly what you were going for.

Emma stands mesmerized, "How did you even do this?" She watches the cryptic display crawl across the wall, her eyes tracking each line as if she could decode it. "This reminds me of-" she catches herself, the name hanging unspoken between you. She's learned that lesson the hard way. "This is wild.”

You can't help but notice.

Notice how she almost speaks his name, how these meaningless strings of letters and numbers somehow bridge the gap to memories you've tried so hard to bury — promises whispered under star-sprinkled skies, fingers intertwined beneath the cosmic glow.

Moments that felt eternal then, ephemeral now.

Your gaze drifts to your phone, lying face-down like a surrender.

You blink several times, trying to clear the ghosts from your vision before speaking, your voice emerging barely above a whisper, as if the words themselves might shatter something in the air, "Should I text him?" You ask, offering the idea as if it was something too controversial to be spoken aloud.

Emma shifts her weight, both from exhaustion and the sudden weight of responsibility.

Your night's trajectory now rests in her hands — she who has witnessed every shade of you, from triumph to devastation. Her own memories of him surface: the way he'd raid her ice cream stash only to replace it with a premium pint the next day, how he'd tackle the dish mountain without prompting, those small gestures that made him feel like family.

"He was my favorite boyfriend of yours," she'd told you once, in a moment of wine-honest conversation. "He was a good boy."

A good boy who made a couple mistakes.

But those mistakes had compounded like interest on a debt you never agreed to pay, until the rift between you and Luigi widened into an ocean.

Everything good had been pulled out with the tide — your trust, your shared future — swept away to depths where no light could reach.

"I-" Emma's hand finds the back of her neck, her expression cycling through a slideshow of conflicted emotions. You can see her internal struggle; the desire to crawl into her bed warring with her loyalty to you. And she knows you well enough to realize you'd stay here until sunrise if necessary. "I mean — babe, I love you, but you can't fix this." The admission seems to pain her, as if acknowledging your limitations feels like betrayal. "We aren't techies."

You stare helplessly at your gutted gallery, stripped bare by your own accidental digital vandalism. Your artwork, your portfolio, your future — all reduced to incomprehensible strings of code projected onto an indifferent wall.

"Do you think he'd come?" The question escapes before you can stop it, your eyes magnetized to your phone as if your stare alone could resurrect that old text thread, buried beneath months of careful silence.

"Of course he would."

A soft, defeated whine escapes you as you turn back to glare at your corrupted work, as if you could intimidate it into fixing itself through sheer force of will.

Emma's voice softens, "Hey, he's mature enough to understand you've exhausted your options."

A violent shudder runs through you at the thought of Luigi being your last resort.

You'd managed to exile the visceral memories — the heated arguments that left you gasping for air, the promises that turned to vapor in the morning light.

"Which are?"

Emma looks down at her Pokemon-clad self, then back at you. "Me." She gestures vaguely in your direction, "and you."

The campus sleeps around you, everyone else lost to their dreams or late-night calls home. Just the two of you remain, trapped in this dimly-lit purgatory on a Wednesday night, while error messages mock your existence with their endless scroll.

"Slim pickin's," you mutter as your fingers betray you, finding Luigi's contact with muscle memory that refuses to die.

How many times had you pressed these same digits before?

But this is different.

Different because you haven't spoken since that night in your kitchen, when you stood with your back to him, voice steady despite the trembling in your hands, "So, we aren't going to try to figure this out?" You asked, and he’d responded with some pretentious comparison about your relationship being like corrupted code, fundamentally flawed, destined to fail its own quality test.

The irony isn't lost on you — the very metaphor he used to end things is now the thread that might pull you back into his orbit. Your only connection besides the elaborate dance of avoidance across campus, treating each other's paths like holy ground neither dares to tread.

Opening the thread, you're greeted by your last exchange — your final words to him blazing across the screen in angry blue bubbles: "I want my fucking shit back or I'll make your life a living hell." Such poetry. Your new message hovers in the text box, simpler, desperate in its brevity.

Hey need help with somethin. U up??

You thrust your phone at Emma like it's burning your fingers, watching her eyes widen as they catch on those months-old texts — digital artifacts of your rage that should have been scrubbed before tonight's desperate plea. "Jesus," she whispers, amusement dancing in her expression. "I'd still be licking my wounds if I were hi-"

The familiar buzz cuts through the air, a notification chime that once made your heart leap but now makes it sink.

"What'd he say?" You mumble, gaze fixed on the mocking projection that bathes the room in its sickly digital glow, code continuing its relentless march across the wall.

Emma settles into a chair, hunching over your laptop's makeshift altar. "Said he's at Ruddy's." She squints at a fresh message. "He said 'what do you want?'" She deepens her voice into a cartoonish baritone, making him sound like a caveman discovering text messaging for the first time.

You can't blame him for the cold response — you’d scorched that earth thoroughly.

But a selfish part of you wants to delete the whole exchange, pretend this moment of weakness never happened, go back to the careful choreography of avoiding each other's existence.

But you can't.

The corrupted gallery looming on the wall is a stark reminder that pride is a luxury you can't afford right now.

His icy reception is the natural consequence of your scorched-earth campaign, those venom-laced messages sent in the throes of heartbreak and confusion.

You'd played the role of the woman scorned perfectly, even though you'd written your own tragic script.

"Just send him a picture." You wave listlessly at the wall, where your work continues its digital decomposition, folding in on itself like a dying star. The error messages stretch into an endless serpent of nonsense, each iteration making less sense than the last.

The artificial shutter sound of Emma's photo breaks the silence, followed by the soft swoosh of sending. The wait feels eternal until-

Ding

Emma's attention snaps to your phone resting on her thigh, her eyes widening. "He's typing like he-"

Sorry;m,, I’m fucked uo

Up

I am

fucked up

Emma clicks her tongue and rises, crossing the room to lob your phone into your lap, screen up. "Guess some things don't change." You manage a weak half-grin, memories flooding back unbidden — Luigi stumbling into your dorm in the small hours, wrapped in whiskeys warmth, all soft edges and desperate hands.

"Well, make up your mind." Emma's yawn threatens to unhinge her jaw, arms wrapping around herself like armor. "Are we done here, or are you gonna have him come take a look?"

I’n be there son

I’ll be rherw soo

I’ll be there soon

You stand to wrap your arms around Emma’s shoulders who reluctantly curves her arms upward to squeeze your shoulders. “Go home.” She seems reluctant to listen, staring at your phone screen as if it would take her home itself. “I promise, I’ll be just fine.”

The space between you pulses with that unique warmth reserved for someone who shares your roof, your darkest secrets, and the monthly struggle with Con Edison. "Just don't make any brash decisions."

"Oh, Em." You press a kiss to her forehead. "You think I'm so much cooler than I am."

Emma's laugh follows her as she spins toward the door, collecting pieces of herself like breadcrumbs — the scarf draped over a chair, the coat hung forgotten, the backpack abandoned when the day still held promise.

Each item a marker of how long this digital nightmare has stretched, from sunshine to moonlight.

And as if summoned by cosmic irony, the lab door swings open to reveal Luigi. "Oh - hey, E." The surprise flickers across his face before he schools his features back to neutral.

"Hey, Lu." Her greeting carries the easy familiarity of their old routine, like NPCs in a cozy game exchanging preset dialogue, their paths crossing exactly as programmed.

"You g'na help me with this?"

Emma shakes her head, patting his shoulder as she passes — a gentle handoff. "I did my time." You want to protest, but words fail as you absorb the sight of him, eight months of careful avoidance crumbling in an instant.

"Ahh-" Luigi waves, feigning disappointment through the druken haze. "Need a walk back home?"

Ever the shepherd, guardian of late-night wanderers.

It didn't matter who you were — friend, stranger, ex-lover’s best friend and roommate — his self-appointed mission to ensure everyone's safe return never wavered.

You'd once wondered if it stemmed from some deeper anxiety, his mind unable to rest until every sheep was accounted for in its fold.

Tonight though, the alcohol has mercifully dulled that protective instinct. Emma's potential disappearance into the night ranks lower on his list of concerns than usual, although Emma herself had been the one earlier to warn you of the murderer on campus.

"You still got my location," Emma reminds him — a callback to conversations past, to the day she'd granted Luigi permanent access to her whereabouts, a level of trust you'd wisely withheld.

"Right."

She presses a kiss to her fingers, flashing you a peace sign with the same hand before it briefly lands on Luigi's shoulder. Then she's gone, disappearing into the snow-globe world he'd just stumbled in from. He stands before you now, arms hanging like dead weight, his eyes somehow both wide and narrow.

"Hey," you whisper.

"Hey."

You gesture weakly at the wall where your work writhes in digital agony. "So, uh — remember that time you salvaged Professor Wren’s entire thesis when her drive crashed?"

Luigi's eyes follow your hand, professional interest temporarily overriding the awkwardness. He steps closer, squinting at the corrupted display, "Jesus," he mutters, "what did you do to it?"

"Would you believe me if I said nothing?" The laugh that escapes is more nervous than you'd like. "It just. - it started disintegrating during final checks."

He's already pulling out his laptop, muscle memory from countless late-night tech rescues. The familiarity of it hits you in the chest — how many times had you watched him do this same thing, hunched over his keyboard, bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration?

"I can try," he says finally, not quite meeting your eyes. "But no promises. When's this due?"

"Tomorrow at nine."

"Of course it is." He drops into the chair beside you, close enough that your elbows almost touch, but enough of a distance to still feel far away. “Okay, walk me through what it's supposed to look like when it's not — uh - whatever this is."

For a moment, Luigi stares at the corrupted display where red pixels bleed and stutter across the wall. His fingers hover over his keyboard, then pause. "Wait. This is your circulatory modeling project? The one you were-“ He cuts himself off, remembering this was before the eight months of silence.

"Yeah." You swallow. "It was working perfectly until an hour ago. Real-time hemodynamics, pressure differentials, vessel elasticity. Everything." Your voice cracks slightly on the last word, feeling more helpless when you verbalize it.

He nods, already typing with uncanny precision despite the slight sway in his posture. "Show me the base code. Did you save any backups?"

"Three. All corrupted." You lean forward, careful not to crowd him as you pull up the mangled files. "It's like something got into the core simulation and just - I dunno - started rewriting them."

"Hm." His eyes scan the screen with that laser focus he somehow maintains no matter how much he drinks, that familiar furrow appearing between his brows. "These values are cascading. One corrupted variable triggering a chain reaction through the whole system." He glances at you, slightly overshooting before correcting. "When's the last time it ran correctly?"

You check your phone. "6:43 PM. I have a screen recording from then."

"Good. That's good." He pulls up a second window, his typing still flawless even as he reaches with his free hand to steady himself against the desk. "We can compare the execution logs, maybe isolate where it started going wrong." His fingers fly across the keys with a precision that seems to mock his clearly inebriated state, and for a moment, it feels like those eight months never happened. "I'm going to need coffee for this." He looks up at you from where he sat, “Or more booze.”

You land on coffee, your feet carrying you down the familiar path to the kitchenette.

The fluorescent lights flicker dimly at this hour, casting strange shadows across the linoleum, the lab's overpriced espresso machine hums to life under your touch, its gentle whirring a counterpoint to the distant sound of Luigi's typing.

Suddenly you're back in that first year, both of you hunched over at 3 AM, him teaching you the proper way to pull a shot: “You're murdering it, stop torturing the beans”, your quiet laughter echoing through empty halls.

"Got it.” His voice carries down the corridor, slurred but triumphant, snapping you back to present.

You return to find him illuminated by screen-glow, his tie loosened and dark hair disheveled. The paper cup lands in front of him — double shot, one packet of raw sugar.

He doesn't stir it, never has.

Instead, he tips the cup back, and you hear that familiar crunch of sugar crystals between his teeth, a sound that used to drive you crazy, until somewhere along the way it became endearing.

Still, the jumbled code taunts you from the screen, though its chaos seems less threatening now. Under Luigi's touch — steady despite the alcohol — your final project is slowly remembering its original shape.

"You should have texted sooner," Luigi murmurs, tilting his head back to collect the last sugar crystals from his cup. The movement exposes his throat, his collar wrinkled where he's been tugging at it all night.

"Well," you say, watching the way his fingers dance across the keys, each stroke precise despite his obvious intoxication, "takes a minute to swallow something as big as my pride."

The corners of his mouth twitch upward, eyes never leaving the screen where broken code is knitting itself back together under his attention.

"Oh," he huffs out a laugh, the sound low and dangerous in the quiet lab, "I've seen you swallow far bigger things before."

It strikes like summer lightning — quick, bright, and leaving the air charged in its wake. The innuendo lands with no real bite, yet you find your jaw slack, a startled laugh shaking loose from your chest.

"Kidding," Luigi says, his eyes flicking from screen to you and back again. There’s a ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, softened by the alcohol but still sharp enough to cut. You wave him back to his work, grateful for the blue glow of monitors that hides your flush. "You kinda set that up perfectly, though."

He squints up at the projection where your broken code still bleeds across the wall, letting out a soft grunt of frustration at some digital roadblock. "Just mean — ya know, you could have caught me two beers deep instead of seven."

You shrug a shoulder, watching as the projection slowly crystallizes into something recognizable. "Seems you work better under such conditions."

The lie tastes metallic.

You both know the truth.

Luigi would have come if he was sober as sunrise or drowning in bourbon. Would have come with broken ribs or pneumonia or his heart barely beating. Would have traced these familiar hallways blind, deaf, or dying — because that's what the two of you do.

Have always done.

You've seen him at rock bottom, curled into himself on cold bathroom tiles at midnight, trembling hands pressed against his mouth as if he could physically hold back the pain that wracked his body. Watched him try to explain to puzzled doctors how someone so young could hurt so constantly, the frustration in his voice when they suggested it was all in his head.

You were there through the trials of medications, the nights when existence itself seemed too heavy to bear.

And you've seen him soar; standing tall in that charcoal suit that made him look older, more polished, shaking hands with tech giants who saw in him what you'd always known was there, his future spreading out before him like a golden road, brilliant and boundless.

Now he sits here, seven drinks deep but coding like he's never been clearer, and you realize that maybe both versions are equally true.

Maybe that's what makes him Luigi — the ability to contain multitudes, to be simultaneously broken and brilliant, wounded and wonderful.

He catches you watching him and raises an eyebrow, the gesture slightly delayed, which means you must have been a bit too obvious. "What?"

"Nothing.”

His fingers pause on the keys, and even through the alcoholic haze, his gaze pins you like a butterfly to cork. "No, really. What?" The words have a slight blur around their edges, but his focus is knife-sharp.

You could deflect again, but there's something about 4 AM and code that glows like dying stars that makes honesty feel less dangerous, perhaps you’re finding comfort in the fact that Luigi is drunk, although you’re stone cold sober.

"Just thinking about that time in the Thompson building bathroom." Your voice comes out softer than intended. "When you couldn't stand up, and I had to convince the janitor you had food poisoning."

He doesn't flinch from the memory like he used to.

Instead, his mouth curves into something caught between a smile and a grimace. "You told him it was from the cafeteria." His fingers resume their dance across the keyboard, but slower now. "Got the whole place investigated by health services."

"Yeah, but got us three days off while they checked fucking everything.” you remind him.

"Got me through that week," he corrects quietly, and for a moment, the mask of that brilliant-drunk-techie slips, showing the man underneath who still remembers what it feels like to be held together by nothing but someone else's faith in you.

Then he blinks, and the vulnerability is gone, replaced by that familiar crooked grin. "Though I maintain the cafeteria deserved the inspection anyway."

The projection flickers, another section of code healing itself under his touch, and you wonder if he knows you'd do it all again.

Every bathroom floor, every late-night crisis, every moment of putting him back together - you'd choose it every time.

"Speaking of which," you venture carefully, watching his hands move across the keyboard. "How's the new treatment working?"

His right shoulder shifts in what might be a shrug, but there's a shadow of a real smile playing at his mouth.

Not the sharp, defensive one he wears like armor, but something softer, more genuine. "Six months post-op and I actually slept through the night last week. First time in -“ he pauses, considering, "Fuck, I don't even remember how long."

The admission hangs in the air between you, weighted with the two years of 2 AM phone calls, of nights spent pacing, of pain medications that never quite touched the core of the problem.

Watching him try to code through hands that wouldn't stop shaking.

"Still hurts sometimes," he adds, almost absently. "But it's different now. More like background noise than a scream." His fingers still on the keyboard, and for a moment he looks almost surprised by his own words. "Guess that's what normal people feel like all the time, huh?"

The question carries an edge of wonder, like someone who's lived in darkness suddenly discovering dawn.

You watch him roll his shoulder — a gesture that used to be followed by a wince but now flows smooth and unconscious — and think about how strange it must be, learning to live without constant pain after it's become part of your identity.

"Though I kind of miss having an excuse to drunk-code at 4 AM" he adds, but you both know it's a lie.

The code blurs on the projection as silence settles between you, charged with something that's been building for ages — through bathroom floors and hospital visits, through triumphs and failures, through pain and healing.

The alcohol has stripped away Luigi’s careful boundaries, leaving raw honesty in their place.

"You know," Luigi says slowly, finally turning from the screen to face you fully, "I never thanked you properly. For all of it."

"You don't need to-"

Your diagram pulses back to life, the holographic heart rotating lazily against the wall.

Its red glow bathes the room in a surreal warmth, catching on the sharp angles of Luigi's face, softening them into something almost dreamlike.

The light flickers across his cheekbones, turns his eyes to amber, makes the whole moment feel suspended between reality and imagination.

"I do." His voice is quiet but firm, steadier than someone seven drinks deep should manage. "Because I've been thinking — now that I can actually think clearly without-“he gestures vaguely at his back, at all the years of pain, "I've been thinking about how you're the only constant. The only person who never-“ He trails off.

You lean a little closer, drawn by the vulnerability in his voice. "Never what?"

"Never saw me as broken." He turns himself toward you, and there's something desperate in his eyes, something the alcohol has finally given him the courage to show. "Never treated me like I needed fixing. Just stayed. Through everything."

Your lips part, but the words catch in your throat. He takes your silence as a sign, turning back to the screen with a sharp exhale that might be resignation or relief — you're not sure which would be worse.

"Lu,” you say softly, and something in your voice makes his fingers still on the keyboard. "Look at me."

He does, slowly, like he's afraid of what he might find.

The neon bathes half his face in crimson, leaving the other half in shadow, and you see the moment his carefully constructed walls start to crumble.

"Time hasn’t changed that much about me.” you say, each word deliberate, heavy with meaning.

His breath catches audibly. You watch the impact of your words ripple across his face — surprise, understanding, and something else, something that makes your heart race against your ribs.

"Hasn’t it?” Luigi is focusing on you now, the reason he really came here now practically completed but pushed aside until further notice. “Eight months is a long time to hold onto -“ he gestures vaguely between you, as if he can’t quite say what it was. Hopeless devotion, the right person, wrong time.

“Not long enough to forget.”

“Forget what?”

“You.”

His breath catches again, a sharp inhale that seems to pull all the oxygen from the room. When he speaks, his voice is rough and ragged, “Maybe that’s the problem.” His gaze drifts down to watch as you lick your lips, and back up again. “Maybe you should have.”

[peachiejeongin]

Christmas Eve with Stray Kids | OT8!

Day 11 of the 12 Days of Staymas!

Synopsis: Headcannons of spending Christmas Eve with the Stray Kids members.

Pairing: ot8!SKZ x reader

Genre: Fluff!

Warnings: None!

Notice: On the 11th day of Staymas, PeachieJeongin gave Christmas Eve headcannons to her darlings! We are nearly at the end of this advent series, so enjoy the second to last day, lovelys!

Bang Chan:

・❥ Chan would make sure the house is decorated to perfection. Christmas lights would be draped everywhere, including the staircase rails and even upon the fireplace, items such as throw pillows and comforters would be swapped out for Christmas-themed versions, and a festive light projector would adorn the exterior of the house in swaying, colorful illumination.

・❥ Chan would spend hours decorating the Christmas tree with you, ensuring that every ornament and string of garland is perfected. Afterwards, he would stand back with you in awe of the beautiful decoration you had put together.

・❥ Chan insists on baking cookies together, even if his baking skills are not the best. He would laugh at the messy icing blobs he would pipe out on the cookies, and he would playfully pout at your teasings referring to his misshapened gingerbread men; however, he is not too worried about the turnout of the cookies so much as he is making the memory with you.

・❥ Hot chocolate is a must on Christmas Eve night, and he would go all out for you both with whipped cream, marshmallows, and any other toppings your hearts so desire.

・❥ Expect a full marathon of Christmas movies. Chan would play everything from classics such as 'A Christmas Story,' to animated favorites like 'The Polar Express.' He would snuggle close to you under a large, fluffy blanket, laughing the night away at the comedic aspects of the films.

・❥ Bonus: You would insist on watching at least one cheesy holiday romantic comedy; Chan would tease you about it, but secretly, he enjoys the movie just as much as you do.

・❥ You and Chan would wrap your presents prior to Christmas Eve, that way you could focus on spending the day with one another; however, Chan would probably insist on opening one present early, since he would be too excited to wait.

・❥ Chan sneakily hides a sprig of mistletoe somewhere around the house each year, and you always manage to find yourself right underneath the trap. He would grin mischeviously the moment he finds you standing underneath, pulling you in for a quick kiss afterwards and mumbling how it is your, "early Christmas gift."

・❥ After the festivities of the night clam down, Chan would sing you softly to sleep, humming Christmas songs or lullabies as you lull off in his arms.

・❥ If he catches you awake, he would jokingly scold you and tell you that if you did not get to sleep, Santa would not come tomorrow.

Lee Know:

・❥ Minho is not one to overdo the Christmas aesthetic, but he would surprise you with how thoughtful he is about setting up decor. At least a few candles smelling of apple spice, peppermint, or cedarwood would be lit, and a playlist of jazzy Christmas songs would softly play in the background as the two of you snuggled in for Christmas Eve.

・❥ He would pour you both a glass of wine or make some hot cocoa, sitting with you on the couch by the Christmas tree while the cats lazily wander around.

・❥ If it is snowing outside, Lee Know would suggest a nighttime walk to enjoy the peacefulness of the night before Christmas. He would tug on your scarf gently in order to ensure that you are bundled up; he would also keep your hands tucked in the pockets of his coats in order to keep you warm.

・❥ He would enjoy how quiet the streets are, pointing out Christmas lights on houses and making dry yet funny comments about the houses that went over-the-top on decorations.

・❥ True to his nature, Minho would save wrapping gifts until the last minute. He would call you over for "help," but he would forgo the wrapping in order to spend time with you by the fire place.

・❥ If you guys did end up wrapping presents, it would end in a wrapping paper war, complete with bits of tape being stuck to each other's faces and arguing over whose wrapping job looks better.

・❥ Soonie, Doongie, and/or Dori would inevitably knock something over, such as an ornament or a bow from a wrapped gift. Instead of getting mad, however, Minho would chuckle, joking that the cats are, "adding their own touch to Christmas Eve."

・❥ Spontaneous living room slow dances are a given. Minho would either bounce around the whole house with you if the song is more upbeat, or he would grab your hand as a slower carol plays, pulling you close and swaying side-to-side with you.

・❥ Minho would make a huge deal about waiting for midnight as if it was New Years Eve rather than Christmas Eve. He would tease you if you fell asleep early, tickling at your side to keep you awake.

・❥ At 11:59, he would hold you close to his side, leaning in for a kiss as soon as the clock hits 12:00. He would smirk and say, "Merry Christmas," at the perfect moment.

・❥ The night would end with you both curled up on the couch, the lights from the tree softly lighting up the room. Minho would snuggle you close, just as you are about to doze off, and mumble, "This is how Christmas should be. Just us," as the Christmas music remains quietly blaring in the background.

Changbin:

・❥ Changbin would wake up on Christmas Eve buzzing with energy and determined to make the day feel magical. By evening, he would be dragging you into a whirlwind activities, from last minute gift-shopping to blasting Christmas music as you clean up the house to prepare for the next day.

・❥ True to his personality, Changbin may sneak in a swift workout before the festivities. He would jokingly challenge to partake in, "holiday-themed exercises," like seeing how many push-ups you could do during the chorus of 'White Christmas.'

・❥ If the Christmas tree is not fully decorated by Christmas Eve, Changbin would take charge. He would grab ornaments with reckless enthusiasm, cracking jokes about his, "artistic," placements, even though the aforementioned decor is hilariously lopsided.

・❥ Wrapping gifts would turn into a fit of pure chaos. Changbin would have absolutely zero patience for accurately cutting wrapping paper or neatly folding the edges, opting instead for a, "get it done," approach that ends with wrapping paper scraps and bits of tape all over the living room.

・❥ He would playfully complain when you point out his mess and challenge you to a wrapping duel. If he loses, which he most likely would, he would claim he "let you win" in order to make you laugh.

・❥ If you leave the house for anything, Changbin would blast Christmas music in the car and turn it into a karaoke session. He would belt out every note with over-the-top dramatics, causing you to laugh excruciatingly to the point where you would not be able to sing along further.

・❥ Bonus points if he takes a ridiculously emotional approach to 'Last Christmas,' dramatically clutching his chest and pretending to cry.

・❥ In absolute Changbin style, he would realize last minute that he forgot to buy someone a gift. He would drag you out to the shop, claiming that he would just buy the one present and be done quickly; however, you quickly realize that his claim is not so as he comes back to the car with the one gift, along with about five or six other "small gifts" for you.

・❥ He would beg you to open his presents early to absolutely no end, and when you decline, he would force an "angry" pout, to which you would just retort with a kiss, telling him that the presents were for tomorrow and tomorrow only.

・❥ Neither you nor Changbin would be able to sleep much on Christmas Eve night, too excited for the following day that awaited. In particular, his heart would be pounding as he laid down, absolutely enthusiastic as he imagined your reactions to the presents he bought for you.

Hyunjin:

・❥ Hyunjin would wake up on Christmas Eve and immediately begin working on his specialized gift for you; a lavish, extraordinary art piece. Whether it was a painting, a handmade card, or even just a personalized sketch, he would want to pour his heart into something meaningful.

・❥ You would catch him moments after he is finished, smudged with paint and rushedly attempting to clean up. You would ask him what he was working on, only for him to say, "You'll see it tomorrow."

・❥ Similar to Minho, Hyunjin would take you on a romantic walk through the city or neighborhood to look at the Christmas lights. You would end up at a cozy little cafe he "just happened" to plan for, sharing warm drinks by the window as the snow (or stars if it is not snowing) glisten outside.

・❥ Unlike the others, Hyunjin would take serious pride in wrapping presents. Every edge would be perfect, the ribbon tied just right, and he would even add a touch of creativity such as a hand-drawn tag or pressed flowers for decoration.

・❥ Hyunjin would suggest making a festive meal together, but he would get distracted half-way through as he attempted to make the plating look perfect while forgetting about something in the oven.

・❥ You would unseriously scold him for burning whatever was heating in the oven, and the two of you would most likely end up ordering takeout for the night.

・❥ At some point in the evening, the weight of the next day would get to Hyunjin and he would get dreamy and reflective, sharing his thoughts about the year or reciting something poetic about how much you mean to him.

・❥ If you tease him about getting sentimental, he would smile softly and say, "I'm just being honest. The Christmas season just makes me feel like this."

・❥ He would get a burst of childike excitement and suggest building a pillow fort near the Christmas tree. He would drape fairy lights over it and bring in blankets, snacks, and your favorite drinks.

・❥ You would spend hours talking, laughing, and sharing memories of the year while the glow of the tree lights flickers around you.

・❥ You would eventually doze off to sleep in his arms, and Hyunjin would hold you close, kissing your forehead and mumbling about how he would make this the "best Christmas ever."

Han:

・❥ Christmas Eve with Han is no dull moment; the moment you wake up, he is practically pouncing on you with excitement, surprising you with a pair of matching Christmas pajamas he sneakily bought the night before.

・❥ He would drag you to the Christmas tree shortly after, ignoring your complaints about it being way too early for this type of thing. You would spend the next hour taking silly selfies and videos to document how cute Han thinks you look.

・❥ Ever the jokester, Han would set up harmless pranks to make you laugh, like hiding the gifts around the house for you to find or surprising you by throwing a pile of fake snow at you.

・❥ Han would get creative and suggest making homemade ornaments for the tree. He would gather random craft supplies, such as paper, markers, and glitter, and get to work on his laughable designs. You would insist upon them being masterpieces, however, and hang his creations front and center on the tree.

・❥ Han would essentially drag you outside, balling up a wad of snow and chucking it at your backside before you could even comprehend what he was doing. Chaos would break lose from that point, and the two of you would look like miniature snowmen from the impact.

・❥ If there is no snow outside, Han would improvise by balling up white pairs of socks and starting an impromptu fight in the living room.

・❥ He too would attempt to make a Christmas Eve feast; however, he would go about it in a completely different manner. He would raid the kitchen for snack foods, making a "feast" with whatever he finds.

・❥ The counter would look like a disaster of mismatched foods, like candy canes, chips, and leftover pizza slices, but he would still show it off to you as if it were a gourmet meal.

・❥ Despite insisting that gifts are for Christmas Day, Han would not be able to resist giving you something early. He would wait until close to midnight, acting nonchalant before handing you a small, meaningful gift.

・❥ When you open it, Han would nervously ask if you like it, getting ridiculously giddy when he sees your joyous reaction.

・❥ As the night winds down, Han would curl up with you, whether in bed or on the couch, clinging to your side with a smile in optimism for the day to come.

Felix:

・❥ Naturally, Felix would dedicate a large chunk of Christmas Eve to baking every sweet treat imaginable, from gingerbread cookies, to cupcakes, truffles, and much, much more. He would urge you to join in, assigning you tasks such as cutting out cookie shapes or taste-testing the batter for him.

・❥ Felix would have a stack of Christmas cards ready to write, wanting to send heartfelt messages to his family, friends, and bandmates. He would ask for your help on brainstorming sweet or comedic messages, occasionally leaning over to read what you are writing on your own cards.

・❥ Felix would most likely set up a hot chocolate station at home, complete with marshmallows, whipped cream, chocolate chips, and every other topping. He would carefully make each cup, topping yours with a tad extra whipped cream just like you prefer it.

・❥ Sitting by the Christmas tree with your mugs, he would lean his head against your shoulder and say, "I don't I've ever felt this cozy in my life."

・❥ Felix would turn Christmas Eve into a festive karaoke party. He would sing his heart out to 'All I Want for Christmas,' encouraging you to join in with the extravagant enthusiasm.

・❥ The two of you would mess up horrendously trying to hit the high notes, causing you both to topple over on the floor from wheezing so hard.

・❥ Out of nowhere, Felix would pull out a Christmas-themed puzzle, insisting you work on it together. He would concentrate adorably, sticking out his tongue as he tries to find the right pieces.

・❥ When you finish, he would take a photo of the completed puzzle and proudly declare that you make the best puzzle-team.

・❥ Felix would want to make a gingerbread house, or perhaps an entire gingerbread village depending on how much energy he has. He would carefully pipe frosting in intricate designs while you adorned the house with candy whereever you pleased.

・❥ "You've been my brightest light this year," Felix would say, an arm around you in front of the fireplace as the both of you prepred for Christmas Day.

Seungmin:

・❥ Seungmin would act all cool and collected about Christmas Eve, but you would catch him sneaking prolonged glances at Christmas decorations or humming carols under his breath.

・❥ When you call him out on his behavior, he would deny it with a playful smirk, claiming that Christmas Eve is another normal day...just one with a tree in the middle of the room!

・❥ He would suggest a cozy board game night by the Christmas tree, pulling out games that are just competitive enough to spark his sarcastic demeanor. He would smugly point out your mistakes, but when you eventually catch him slipping up, he would laugh in your face and give you the point, claiming it is only because of the season.

・❥ Seungmin would play Christmas songs in the background but insist he is, "not in the mood to sing." Yet, he would start humming along absentmindedly, and before long, he would be singing the entire song.

・❥ Seungmin would take charge of making warm drinks for the evening, experimenting with different ways to create hot chocolate, mulled cider, or festive tea blends.

・❥ He would pull out a book of Christmas stories and offer to read one aloud. He would deliver the lines with a perfectly dry, sarcastic tone at first, making you laugh.

・❥ While he is not the type to get overly indulgent in the kitchen, he would agree to bake something simple, such as cookies or gingerbread snacks. They would surprisingly turn out delicious, and he would say, "See? Perfection takes effort. You're welcome."

・❥ Seungmin would choose to watch a classic Christmas movie, but instead of simply sitting through it, he would provide running commentary the entire time, making you laugh incredulously hard ("Why are they acting like snow is surprising? The movie is literally called 'White Christmas.")'

・❥ Just before midnght, Seungmin would bundle you both up to step outside and look at the stars, a tradition he started a couple of years ago, "because Christmas Eve deserves a moment of peace."

・❥ He would point out the constellations and share stories about how the stars can make the Christmas spirit truly feel real.

Jeongin:

・❥ You would wake up on Christmas Eve to a hilarious sight: Jeongin, dressed in a Santa hat, carrying a bag of small gifts and declaring himself as, "Santa Jeongin."

・❥ He would make a big production of handing you each gift, adding funny commentary such as, "This gift is for the funniest person in the room...wait, that's you!"

・❥ Later in the day, Jeongin would come up with some goofy Christmas game on the spot, like balancing presents on your head or seeing who can place a certain number of ornaments on the tree the fastest.

・❥ The loser would have to do something silly, like dress in a Christmas costume or sing a carol in a certain voice. His competitive edge would show, but he would always let you win just so he can see you smile.

・❥ He would keep the festivity going, however, by setting up a playful scavenger hunt around the house, hiding little Post-its with clues that lead to Christmas candies or notes.

・❥ Jeongin would suggest watching Christmas cartoons instead of movies, insisting that they are more nostalgic and fun. He would laugh at the goofy parts, but surprisingly invest himself in the heartfelt moments.

・❥ Instead of store-bought presents, Jeongin would present you with an envelope of handwritten "Christmas coupons." They would include things like, "One moie night of your choice," or, "unlimited hugs for a day."

・❥ Inspired by the lack of snow outside, or just his own creativity, Jeongin would stack pillows and blankets to build a makeshift "snowman" in the living room. He would then raid the kitchen for accessories, like a scarf or even a carrot for the nose, while you stand by cackling the entire time.

・❥ At the end of the night, Jeongin would pull out paper and pens, suggesting you both write letters to Santa, but with a twist; you make the letters as hilarious as humanly possible.

・❥ "Dear Santa, please give me the ability to cook better instant noodles," he would write causing you to laugh so hard you would not be able to finish your own letter.

・❥ Jeongin would finish the day off by wrapping the two of you up in a big blanket on the couch, claiming it is a "Christmas cocoon" where only good vibes are allowed. You would discuss the best parts of the day, and the power of the blanket and of your words, would cause Jeongin to doze off, mumbling about how this was the best Christmas Eve ever.

---

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght, @amararosesblog (If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

[theoceansluvr]

Multi-Character x Nerd! Reader

warning; none except my endless yapping !! author's notes; *comically loud gulp* it's finals season so i decided to drop this before grinding my grades and whatnot😿 gave all the characters different random interests of mine sooo yay !

PERCY JACKSON- Flowers

i like to think percy is pretty neutral about flowers; not his favorite, but doesn't hate them

but when you stepped into the picture ? ALLLLL of that changed !

probably has a flower language book sitting on his bedside table just because of you to be totally fair

because of you, he buys really specific colors (or asks the Demeter cabin to grow him some) of flowers for you because of their meanings

for example, he ABSOLUTELY got you yellow tulips when he asked you out :3c

as much as he's a blue guy, he knows what they stand for (hopeless love) and thought it'd be sweet

sometimes you name a flower he knows NOTHING about like what on earth is an azalea ??

listens to you carefully regardless since he finds it cute how often you ramble about why orchids are associated with royalty

received flowers for the first time from you and he's kept them ever since, claims it's because he keeps forgetting to get rid of them but he's just a sap like that

very supportive of your interests and WILL stay up for hours to hear you talk !

ANNABETH CHASE- Astronomy

at first she thought you were talking about astrology and wasn't all that interested, but then she saw the massive amount of books you had on the stars and understood

dare i say she takes you on stargazing dates where you just point out all the constellations and all the stars we'll never see

has watched about 8 space documentaries in one week, and still isn't tired of it

also ! when ever she's drafting up home designs, she ALWAYS puts a room with a glass ceiling or balcony so you can put your telescope there

she swears it's just for the visuals but she not very good at hiding it(i love you sappy annabeth chase <9)

bought you one of those little star projectors when you guys moved into New Rome !

you guys also made paper lanterns of all the planets + pluto and hung them up on the ceiling since you rarely get to go out much one you go to college

speaking of pluto.. you guys didn't speak for three days over an argument over the basis of it being a planet or not. annabeth refuses to say it is because scientifically it's not, but you say it is because "emotionally it's a planet to me !" (real conversation i've had btw)

takes you to the planetarium whenever you guys have the spare time mainly just to see to get all animated over all the facts you've probably already told her

she absolutely adores you no matter how many times she's heard about all the dwarf planets..

CONNOR STOLL- Comics

deep in my heart he's a flash or spiderman nerd, so it's perfect !

safe to say, if you like anyone else, you guys might dispute who the best superhero is every other day- lovingly of course !

dates probably consist of walking around comic books shops and talking about your favs or reading them in your cabin

swapping off comics whenever you finish one so you can talk about them

has absolutely stolen merch for you on numerous occasions because he can he let the love of his life go without that batman mug ?

definitely makes up insane theories about what happens whenever his favorite character dies..

"no, no, no, he's gonna come back in the next one, trust me !" "con.. he literally blew up." "SO DID JASON TODD BUT HERE WE ARE"

dare i say y'all have matching spider man and gwen or batman and catwoman keychains ?

you probably got him really into young justice on accident because you mentioned him reminding you of wally west(PLS TELL ME SOMEONE SEES THE VISION-)

honestly, you guys are just nerd for nerd but he won't admit to it as easily

LEO VALDEZ- Sharks

scratch what i said about connor being nerd for nerd, you and leo are THE nerd for nerd couple !!

made you a wind up shark toy as a gift because he was bored, and it was basically a marriage proposal to you

has definitely fallen asleep to you talking about sharks before ! not out of boredom, just because he likes your voice

moving on ! y'all know those cardboard sharks people were making ? well, he made you a metal version of your favorite shark !

takes you to aquariums whenever he can, which is rare, but he thrives off of hearing you get excited.. like a kid in a candy store

he also has a crazy supply of gummy sharks in the bunker now for whenever you come over

he has also made you shark shaped string lights because why would he ever let you buy anything ?!

let's you cover his well, everything with shark stickers ! workbench ? sure ! festus ? might protests, but if festus like it, alright !

you told him he'd be a hammerhead shark, and he now has a keychain of one on his belt loop at all times

he rambles to you about mechanics, so in turn you talk about sharks; it's a win-win situation :3c

YAYYYYY PSOTING AGAIN AND IT'S ABOUT MY INTERESTS !!!! this was actually in the drafts for a minute and WAS supposed to drop saturday but i got impatient- love y'all and uhh see you after finals !

[thefemmefatalexo]

Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us

Chapter 1 - Assigned Fate

Summary: Kento Nanami was perfect—disciplined, untouchable, and entirely focused on his future. Emotions didn’t fit into his plans.

You were everything he avoided—bold, warm, and impossible to ignore. You told yourself he didn’t matter, but you couldn’t stop watching him.

He never looked your way. Not until the day his perfectly controlled world unraveled, and you were at the center of it.

{Introduction} ; {next}

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @getovibesonly @inthedarkshadows000

an: Thank you for the overwhelming support and amount of votes I received from all of you! Nanami won the poll so here you go! Some info before hand:

- reader has a healthy relationship with her parents (yay!)

-momma reader is french (I included this so that I could show off my french skills)

-I love angsty stuff so even though Nanami isn’t an asshole like Toji is: have your tissues ready.

Enjoy!! 💋💋

The hum of conversation filled the lecture hall as students shuffled into their seats. You slid into your usual spot near the front, balancing your notebook and coffee. Glancing around, your eyes landed, as they often did, on Nanami. He sat a row over, posture rigid, eyes already fixed on the blank screen of his laptop.

“Good morning!” you greeted him with a cheerful smile.

His gaze flicked to you, cool and composed, before he gave a polite nod. “Morning.” His voice was low and smooth, completely neutral, but it sent a small thrill through you nonetheless.

Before you could say more, the professor strode in, clapping his hands for attention. “Good to see everyone awake! Today, I’m assigning your semester project—a team effort, whether you like it or not.”

Excited murmurs broke out around the room, but Nanami’s expression didn’t change. He sat motionless, his fingers hovering over his keyboard.

Your hand shot up. “Will we get to choose our partners?”

The professor smirked. “Nope. Partnerships are pre-assigned. Check the board.”

You turned eagerly toward the projector as the list popped up, scanning for your name. There it was, right beside—your heart skipped. Nanami Kento.

You glanced over at him, and he was already looking your way, his expression unreadable. He gave a small, courteous nod, as though confirming the pairing before returning to his screen.

Your smile widened. “Looks like we’re partners!”

“Seems that way,” he said, his tone calm and measured.

You leaned in slightly, resting your chin on your palm. “This’ll be fun! I’m sure we’ll make a great team.”

Nanami’s fingers tapped once on his keyboard before he looked back at you. “The goal isn’t fun. It’s results. Let’s aim for efficiency.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness, but your smile didn’t waver. “Of course! Efficiency and fun, though. We can do both.”

His brow twitched, barely perceptible, and he inclined his head again. “If you say so.”

As the professor began explaining the project, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. Nanami was cold, detached, and impossibly focused. But for the first time, you had an excuse to talk to him—and you weren’t about to waste it.

[tootiecakes234]

Megumi had picked you up and taken you on a picnic date and he’d gone all out. He’d set up this nice cushy blanket with a plethora of different foods and drinks. He’d also set up small projector and backdrop for the two of you to layout and watch your favorite movies and brought of couple books along because he loves to read to you.

At this point, you don’t even know how long you guys have been sitting out there but you were having a great time.

You’re laying with your head in his lap right now while he’s playing in your hair and slightly scratching your scalp.

“I still have your surprise to give you. Don’t fall asleep.”

He’d caught you because yes, your eyes had started feeling heavy.

“Surprise? I thought this picnic was the surprise.” You grumble while turning your head slightly to look up at him.

“No, this is a date . I-uhh. Well I got you something earlier while I was out with Nobara. It’s not a big deal but- here.” And he placed a velvet box in your hand.

This made you shoot up straight. Megumi’s never given you jewelry before. You felt like this was a very big deal.

“Thank you so much ‘Gumi” the excitement in your voice taking over and brightening your tone.

He’s looking at you and the blush has already started dusting his cheeks. “Idiot. You haven’t even seen what it is yet.”

“I know but you bought it for me so I know I’m gonna love it.” Your smile is so bright when you look at him it’s like looking into the sun, so he turns his head slightly.

You get on with opening the box and you let out a gasp. It’s this beautiful silver necklace with a moon engraved on it. It’s stunning.

“Megumi, it’s gorgeous. I-“ and you look up at him.

He looks you in the eye and speaks. “It’s part of a set. I gave you the moon so you uh- have something to remind you of me and” he lifts a new necklace you hadn’t even noticed around his neck, “and I have the sun so I always have something to remind me of you. The lady at the shop said they were promise necklaces or whatever. I thought you’d like it.”

And by this point there are tears just spilling out of your eyes that you have no intention of stopping. You throw yourself into his arms and wrap your arms around his neck and he holds you. He figured youd get emotional like this.

“This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever gotten me.” You pull away from him enough to wipe your eyes a little. “Will you put it on for me?”

He nods his head and takes the necklace from your hands and slips it around your neck to latch it.

Once he’s done you reach your pinky out and lock it with his. “We promise to be together as long as the sun and moon chase each other.”

You are wearing the exact smile right now that made him pick these necklaces but this time he didn’t shy away from the brightness beaming off of you. He embraced.

“As long as the sun and moon chase each other.” He repeats back to you. Then he leans in and seals the promise with a kiss.

How on earth did you get this lucky.

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @i-literally-cant-with-this @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223

*let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list💕💕

[rebelliousstories]

Faces of Old, Faces of New

Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Insecurities, Suggestive Themes, Strong Language

Word Count: 1,268

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Part Two of: Not On My Watch

Summary: Holing up in some abandoned movie theater, Cooper is shocked to find one of his old films still in the projector.

“Ooo, we hit the mother load, baby. Look! Our very own movie theater!” She giggled as she ran inside like a child. There were still bodies scattered about but what place in the Wasteland did not have them? Cooper followed after her and chuckled as he watched his partner sprint to the theater.

He looked around in the lobby at the abandoned food and drink stations that had long since been wiped cleaned. It was sending him back in time; back to before the bombs and life was simpler and safer. To when he would take his daughter to the theater to see a picture, sometimes even his, because “daddy was her hero.” Premiering his new picture at a theater and being able to meet his adoring fans. The thought alone made his feel self conscious.

Cooper turned his head to see his partner stalking her way up a set of stairs that led to the projection room. His spurs clicked as he followed her up the old stairs. Surprisingly, the theater’s projection room was left seemingly intact, save for a bit of dust coating the surfaces. She giggled as she sat in a chair and began to spin around in it.

“Well, we can have us a little movie night, darlin’.” The Ghoul drawled, stopping her spinning with a mischievous grin on his face.

“You don’t know how long I have waited to be able to have one. I’ve always heard about movies but I’ve never seen one.” She commented, looking wistfully out to the theater room.

“Well, let’s see if we can’t get this baby to work.” He replied, beginning to dust off the different surfaces across the room. It reminded Howard of his very first job at the movie theater in his home town that allowed him to be paid to watch movies. He could not hear the dialogue for the most part, as the speakers were not n the projection room, but it did not matter. Cooper could quote most of the movies he saw word for word with deadly accuracy.

Finding familiar switches and knobs, he began to fire up the old machine. When it roared to life, he was shocked by the startled scream let out behind him. Turning, Cooper locked eyes with his partner.

“Sorry. Didn’t expect that sound to come out of that machine.” She muttered sheepishly. Cooper turned back to his work of getting the film up and running. He got the film starting its projection and flipped the speakers on.

“Come on, let’s go find us a seat, darlin’.” And with that, while the previews were going, Cooper took her by the hand and led her down the rickety stairs. They snagged their seats and waited for the feature presentation to start. It once it did, Cooper’s giddiness disappeared. He saw his name and face pop up on the silver screen, and saw how the story began to unfold. Even after all these years, he still remembered some of the lines.

“Hey, it’s you baby.” She pointed out happily. Her eyes glazed over as she watched her partner from years ago in the western.

“That ain’t me no more.” He grumbled, unable to keep his eyes off of the screen.

“Course it is. You’re just taking the role more seriously now.” She joked, finally looking at the current state of her lover. His deep voice echoed through the theater, throwing her off since she had only heard it right in front of her before.

“Hey,” she rubbed his arm gently, “what’s goin’ on in that head of your handsome?”

“Now how can you say that?” Cooper abruptly got up from his seat and began to pace in the isle beside them.

“Baby, what is going on?” Following his lead, she abandoned the moving picture in favor of trying to calm down her partner. Grasping his arm gently in her hands, the woman slowed his pace till he was just standing there, looking at the floor.

“You gotta talk to me, Coop. Ain’t gonna drive me away and it’s just us. We are the only ones here to hear this.” Her hand moved from his arm to his face in a delicate cradle. Far more delicate than he was expecting.

“You can’t say that to an old, ugly cowpoke like me. I ain’t deserving of that.” He lamented. Howard sounded so unlike himself. He sounded defeated. Like he has finally come face to face with his worst fear after all these years.

“Now why in the hell do you think that? I think you’re handsome, and attractive. Is it cause of your film?” Turning around, she saw the face of her lover up on that silver screen. His skin was smoother and his nose still in tack. Teeth pearly white, a gorgeous crop of har underneath his Stetson.

“Don’t look like that no more. Ain’t that same man. Not even close on the inside or the outside.” Cooper still had yet to pick his eyes up off of the floor below them when she turned around. Taking a deep breath in, and letting it out just as slowly, she began to speak.

“Coop, I don’t care that you don’t look like a movie star anymore,” he looked up at her with her words, “at least you still got the eyes. You got the voice. Sure as shit still got the build. You’re still you baby.”

“How could you still think that after looking at that and then looking at me?” Cooper looked so sad as he mourned his previous life.

“Because I don’t know that version of you, Coop. But I do know this one. The most badass, gunslinging, son of a bitch Ghoul to ever stalk the Wastelands. And I don’t care if you had everyone doting on you and now you feel that’s gone. But that doesn’t matter. I just want you right now. Not you of two hundred years ago.” She hugged him so close to her that he thought he was going to pop a radiated lung. Wrapping his arms around her, he squeezed her tight with the same force she gave him.

“Now, you gonna make this old cowpoke go soft again. Can’t have that.” Cooper pressed a kiss to the side of her head, and let her draw back.

“Never goin’ soft. Still as hard and beautiful as ever.” She pressed her lips to his.

“I’ll show you something hard and beautiful.” He smirked as he drew her into yet another kiss, this time deeper, and she smiled with him into it.

“Oh no, no, no. I wanna watch you be a sheriff for the next hour and then you can show me that something hard and beautiful, huh?” Teasing her partner, she took his hand to drag them back to their seats. However instead of occupying two, Cooper sat down first and dragged her into his lap. They wiggled around just a little bit to find a more comfortable position, which only made Cooper growl lowly into her ear.

“You stop that wigglin’ right now if you want to continue this picture right here.” Sending a swat the the outside of her thigh, she stopped for a brief second as the pain registered, but continued to find the right spot. Once she did however, she looked over her shoulder to her partner.

“Shh! The movie is playing.” Her harsh whisper caused a chuckle to come out of the ghoul behind her. He tightened his grip on her waist, before settling down to watch the feature presentation when his features were more present.

@imtherain

~

Tags:

[sirxaibs]

Hizashi Yamada X Reader Drabble/Crack

🖇️✩ +̊🎧 MOMMY?!?? 🖇️✩ +̊🎧

masterlist

a student calls you mom

·+̊🖇️✩ +̊🎧⊹♡ Setting up for Hizashi’s English class was something you did often as his TA, but today, you felt particularly playful. The classroom was empty, the morning sunlight casting golden rays through the windows as you arranged papers on his desk. Hizashi stood near the whiteboard, adjusting the projector settings, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose.

“You know, Y/N,” Hizashi mused, tapping at the keyboard, “I think these kids would riot if they knew how excited I was for today’s lesson.”

You chuckled, glancing over the syllabus. “They always riot when it comes to English.”

You smirked, stepping closer until you were right behind him. Your fingers ghosted over the fabric of his vest as you leaned in, breath warm against his ear.

“Oh, they always riot when it comes to english,” you murmured, voice dripping with mischief. “But lucky for you, I’m here. and the faster this lesson goes means we can finally have some… fun.”

Hizashi stiffened for half a second before he turned to you, eyes slightly wide behind his glasses. His ears, hidden beneath his wild blond hair, were definitely burning red. “Oh? Is that so?” His voice cracked just a little, and you bit your lip to hold back a laugh.

Before he could recover, the bell rang, signaling the start of class. The door swung open as students began filtering in, chatting amongst themselves. You took a casual step back, arms crossed, watching as Hizashi cleared his throat, adjusting his collar as if it would help hide his flustered expression.

“ALRIGHT, CLASS! LET’S GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD!” he boomed, though you could hear the slight edge in his voice.

A collective groan cut him off.

“Not English…” one student muttered, resting their forehead against the desk.

Another let out a dramatic sigh. “Why do we even need to learn this? Can’t we just use our quirks in other countries and let a translator handle it?”

You smirked, stepping forward. “Actually, no. A lot of hero agencies overseas require their heroes to have at least basic conversational skills in English. And trust me, you don’t want to be that one hero who has no idea what’s going on in a mission briefing.”

A few students exchanged glances, though the enthusiasm was still lacking.

Hizashi nodded. “Yeah! Plus, how are you gonna do interviews with foreign news outlets if ya don’t know what they’re askin’?”

“That’s what subtitles are for,” a student shot back, earning a few chuckles.

You sighed, shaking your head. “Look, I get it. English can be frustrating. But it’s not impossible. And since I actually spent time in America, I know the best ways to help you guys get comfortable with it.”

One student perked up. “You were in America?”

You nodded. “Yeah. A few months, actually. Lived there, worked there, and had to use English every single day. Trust me, I made all the mistakes you could possibly make, so I know exactly what you’re struggling with.”

“Wait… So you were, like, an American hero?”

“Not exactly,” you admitted. “More like I was there for a temporary collaboration. But I did patrols, worked with some American heroes, and had to communicate with civilians. So if you want to hear some embarrassing stories about me messing up English in public, now’s your chance.”

That seemed to spark some interest.

“Did you ever say something really bad by accident?”

“Oh, definitely.” You smirked, crossing your arms. “I once tried to compliment someone’s shirt and accidentally told them they looked like a banana.”

A few students laughed. Even Hizashi chuckled beside you.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” he said, gesturing dramatically. “Language isn’t just about books and testsit’s about communication! And sometimes, communication is messy, but that’s how ya learn!”

The class groaned again, but at least this time, it was with less resistance.

You smirked. “Alright, let’s start simple. Let’s go around and have everyone introduce themselves in English. Just a basic ‘Hi, my name is ____, and my quirk is ____.’”

The students groaned again, but one by one, they hesitantly began their introductions, stumbling over words and laughing at their own mistakes. You and Hizashi guided them through the pronunciations, offering encouragement where needed.

Midway through the lesson, as you walked between desks helping students with their pronunciation, a sleepy voice mumbled, “Mom, how do you say ‘speed boost’ in English?”

Silence.

You blinked, turning slowly toward the student who had spoken. The entire class went dead quiet as the realization hit them. The student, wide eyed with horror, turned an impossible shade of red.

“I I mean uh” They clamped their hands over their mouth, mortified.

The room erupted into laughter. Even Hizashi doubled over, his laughter echoing through the classroom. You couldn’t help but smirk, arms crossed as you arched an eyebrow.

“Well,” you said, grinning, “at least you said it in English.”

·+̊🖇️✩ +̊🎧⊹♡

The final bell rang, signaling the end of class. Students packed up their things, still chuckling over the earlier slip up. The poor student who had accidentally called you “mom” had bolted out of the room the second they could, face burning red. You were still amused by it, though.

“Alright, see ya next class!” Hizashi called after the last few students, waving as they shuffled out the door.

Once the room was empty, you sighed, stretching your arms over your head. “Whew. That went better than expected.”

“Oh yeah?” Hizashi drawled, turning toward you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You sure about that, Mommy?”

You froze. Then you turned to him slowly, narrowing your eyes. “…What did you just say?”

He grinned, far too pleased with himself. “What? I’m just embracing my student’s interpretation of our dynamic! I mean, you are helpin’ me teach, you keep ‘em in check feels pretty parental to me!” He stroked his chin dramatically. “Maybe I should start callin’ ya that more often”

You smacked his arm firm, but playful.

“OW!” He laughed, rubbing the spot where you hit him. “What?! It’s a term of endearment!”

You shook your head, grinning. “Oh, you think you’re funny, huh?”

“I know I’m funny.”

You crossed your arms, smirking. “Well… I could be a mommy.”

Silence.

Hizashi just stood there.

His expression froze completely like his brain had just cut out. He wasn’t even blinking, just staring at you with his mouth slightly open.

You bit back a laugh at the way his mind was clearly racing at a million miles per hour.

And then, just to mess with him even more, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away and sauntering toward the door. “See you later, Daddy.”

You barely made it out of the room before he exploded.

“WH WAIT! HEY! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!”

You laughed as he stumbled after you, his voice rising in sheer panic and excitement.

“Babe, hold on WAIT A MINUTE” He caught up, following you into the hallway. “Are you just messin’ with me, or ? ‘Cause, like, if you’re serious”

You threw him a teasing look over your shoulder. “What? You want to make me a mom right now?”

His face went completely red, but his determination didn’t waver. “I MEAN IF YOU’RE DOWN I’M JUST SAYIN’”

You only laughed harder, enjoying how flustered he was. you had no doubt this is going to be a topic of discussion when you get home today.