#you ever see someone smile and say to yourself “Oh no”?

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 14

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: as always please consider leaving me a comment/reblog ok. OH AND I NEARLY FORGOT. THANK YOU SO MUCH TO ALL OF THE LOVELY READERS SHO SENT ME INFORMATION ABOUT CPR/MEDIEVAL HEALTHCARE. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH YOU DONT EVEN KNOW. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones @ashton-trashton

You clutch you chest as you walk into your bedroom. You lean back onto the wooden door after closing it and slowly sink to the ground. You gasp for air as a myriad of emotions cut through you.

You stare off into space, reeling from the entire interaction. You start when you hear a knock on the door. You hear the voices of your servants. You turn to the knob, reach up for it, and slowly open it from where you sat.

"Princess?" worried voices call.

Your voice is small, "I'm here."

A servant peeps her head through the small opening and gasps when she sees you. She slinks her way in, and soon does the other one. They both help you up and fuss over you. You tell them you only need help getting dressed, nothing more.

Your servants manage to make you look like a princess after dressing you and fixing your hair. They even paint your lips and cheeks with rouge, making it as though you weren't look so ghastly.

You feel ghastly as you make your way to the maester's ward though. Dread grows with each step you take, thus why you move so sluggish. You only snap out of it when you hear someone call for you.

"AUNT!"

You come alive at the sight of Aegon running over. You find his mother smiling behind him, clutching her belly as she followed after the boy. You crouch down and reach for him.

Aegon giggles as he jumps into your arms, "AUNT!"

You kiss his temple and embrace him fondly, "sȳz ñāqes, ñuha valītsos." Good morning, my boy.

You grunt as you stand with the young prince in your arms. Alicent is soon before you, "good morn," she smiles, though it flattens when she sees your eyes, "sister..."

You shake your head, "it's Daemon."

The queen clenches her jaw.

Aegon finds interest in the jewel on your neck. He takes it in his hand and tries to eat it. You turn to him and shush him, moving his hand away.

"What did he do to you?" your sister asks.

"Not to me," you turn to her, "to my wards."

Alicent knits her brows.

"They..." you sigh. The image of Daemon's bloody face haunts you, "they brawled outside my bedroom."

"What?" she pulls her head back.

"His face was bloody..." your voice shakes, "and... he said things to me-"

"Aunt, cake!" Aegon announces, grabbing your cheeks.

Alicent turns to her son, pushing his hands off you, "darling, mummy said you'll get cake later."

Aegon whines, "cake!"

You turn to Aegon, shushing him momentarily before turning back to Alicent, "I slapped him."

Your sister freezes, a line forming between her brows. She takes a moment before replying, "you slapped Daemon?"

You simply stare at her as Aegon throws his head back and whines, "CAKEEEEE!"

You watch as the boy begins to squirm whilst crying out for cake. You try to calm him, but eventually, Alicent takes him from you. She manages to calm the boy by offering to play with him instead. Aegon scratches his teary eyes, turning to you. He points.

You stroke his head, "I'll play with you later."

He whines, "NOOOOO!"

"My love," Alicent whispers against his cheek, "aunt has to go-"

"NOOO!"

"I just have to go get cake for you, Aegon," you shush him, "you want cake, right?"

Aegon pouts as tears stream down his face.

"Why don't you go play with mummy and aunt will get cake for us?"

Alicent kisses Aegon's tears away and he nods. The boy sighs, "no long."

You nod in understanding, "no, sweetheart. I will not take long."

With that, you leave your nephew and sister, continuing your walk to the maester's ward. When you arrive, your stomach drops as the arguing you hear coming from inside.

When you open the door, the room goes silent. You immediately lock eyes with Daemon who was standing next to your maester.

"Oh, thank the gods," the old man says.

You walk in with knit brows, "what is happening?"

"The prince refuses that I tend to his wounds," the maester says, handing you an iron tray that had both a damp and dry cloth, "he insists only on receiving care for you, my princess."

Of course. You stare at the tray, recalling years ago when he did the same after his tourney, the wordlessly take it. You examine the room, quickly finding your wards sitting on cots.

They stand to attention when you turn to them and nod, "princess."

Daemon feels his hand tremble as you walk towards them.

"Are you two well?"

The twins examine your demeanor before nodding slowly, "yes."

"Have you any injuries?"

"No."

"Good," you nod, "you may leave."

Their eyes widen.

You walk towards Daemon grabbing his arm, "sit."

"Princess?" Erryk asks, "do you mean-"

"Both," you spare them a glance, "both of you may retire."

Daemon turns to them, slowly sitting on the cot.

You turn, "I beg your pardon, maester, but would you do me a favor?"

Erryk is silenced. Arryk feels dread in his stomach as he nods, "we shall away then, my princess."

"How might I serve, princess?" the maester asks.

Daemon watches the twins walk out, awfully pleased with himself, until he feels his head begin to throb.

"Would you please go to the kitchen and request cake be delivered to Aegon?"

The maester is taken aback by the request but otherwise nods, "of course."

"Thank you," you nod, watching him leave.

Daemon does the same.

The moment it's just you and him, he turns to you, finding your eyes are already on him. He clenches his jaw, regretting it when it makes the pain in his nose flare.

Your sigh, walking towards him. You start when he touches your hip.

His lips part as consequences, "I-"

"Don't speak," you take the damp towel and hand him the tray, "I do not wish to speak to you as I tend to your wounds."

Daemon withdraws the hand he had on your hip in lieu of taking the tray. The metal thing felt blistering and heavy. He lowers his head.

"Don't move," you snap, grabbing his chin. When he lifts his head, you quickly retreat your hand, realizing you were about to force his gaze up which would have hurt him. You didn't want to hurt him, regardless of how he made you feel.

Daemon does not think this is why you pull away; he thinks the look of him disgusted you, especially in this state. His grip on the tray tightens.

You could tell his nose was broken from how his eyes were swollen. Many an occasion has this happened to Gwayne. You sigh and shake your head, "you should have let the maester see to your nose at least."

It was strange that now that you were before him, he could barely feel the pain on his face, not because it was gone but because felt it every where, most especially in his chest.

"It's broken," you mutter, placing a hand on his cheek.

Daemon leans back to allow you more access to his face. He so badly wanted to lean into your touch, but he was afraid you'd pull away again. Instead, he closes his eyes, "is it crooked?"

You examine his nose, "no," you trace his bridge with your thumb.

His breath hitches and his skin pricks with goosebumps.

"But a vein must have ruptured from the hit," you say as you wipe the blood off him.

Daemon involuntarily winces.

You immediately pull back, "I-"

He opens his eyes and snatches your hand.

You stare at each other for a long moment.

He brings your hand to his cheek, "think nothing of it," his eyes are watery. His thumb rubs your skin, "do not pull away."

When he releases you, you finish off wiping the red off his skin until all that was left on his face were purple bruises and split skin. You comb his hair back with your fingers and it makes his brows furrow. You sigh, take the tray from him, and set it aside, "I did not mean for that to hurt."

"It didn't," he mutters, watching you go through the objects on the maester's table. You take the ointment and turn back to him. He adds, "I liked it."

You grit your teeth and swipe a dollop of salve on your finger.

Daemon notices your reaction, "are you angry with m-"

"I told you not to speak," you snap for the second time.

His lips part, but only a sigh comes out.

You inhale sharply.

He can feel your hand tremble as you rub the ointment on his wounds. It hurts, not because of the pressure you apply on his skin, but because he knows your anger is the cause of your tremors.

You look him once over after tending to his cuts then examine his body, "anywhere else you're injured, prince?"

"Daor," he mutters, shaking his head, "sepār ñuha prūmia." No, just my heart.

You chuckle dryly at his words, quickly turning away from him to shake your head in disbelief.

Daemon swallows a lump that forms in his throat, "kostilus." Please.

You turn to him, scratching your eyes. The last thing you wanted was to cry in front of him. "Skoros yno?" What of mine?

His eyes follow you as you sit down next to him. He shifts in his spot to face you.

You grip the cot, "gaomagon ao pendagon ñuha prūmia ēza daor ōdrio." You take a deep breath before turning to him. Do you think my heart has no wound?

He sees the tears build in your eyes. He reaches out to wipe it, but you recoil and do it off yourself. He curls his hand into a fist and rests it on his lap. He whispers your name and licks his lips, "it was not my intention."

"Then what was your intention then?" you quip, eyes refusing to leave his though it blurred with tears, "if not to sear holes into my heart?"

What was his intention? What was his intention? Why was it that he found your letters so gut-curling and unseemly? Why was the thought of reading your words while he was seas apart so sickening? He opens his mouth, "I do not know."

You are stunned by his response. It makes you stiffen in your spot. Your stomach sours and your breath hitches, "... you do not even know why you resent me so?"

"I do not resent you," he raises his voice slightly, "but I did bare resentment." He shakes his head, "perhaps for my brother, for your brother, for your father."

You scratch your eyes again. You sigh and nod, "I see."

Daemon's hands flinch.

"So," you knit your brows, "you cast your resentment onto me because..."

His throat tightens though his jaw slacks, "why do you insist upon this?"

"What do you mean?!" you raise.

"You insist to misunderstand me."

"I insist the opposite, you fool!" you snap, coming to a stand, "every day I wrote to you, even after I knew for certain you would not!"

The balm on Daemon's face is washed with the salt from his eyes, "I've read them."

You tense but then you shake your head, "liar."

The word makes him whimper, "last night. I read them all. I read about how you ate cake, and went to the sea, and wrote to Laenor, and-"

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" you blurt, feeling your breath grow short, "those letters were not meant to be read that way."

"But, I know your heart now," he slowly stands.

You laugh, "know my heart!"

"Or the parts you opened up to me," he reaches a hand. He sniffles; it feels like a blade up the nostrils. "If it pleases you, I would write a thousand letters in return."

You scoff, taking a step back, "you would survive three years of silence from me?"

The thought shatters him.

You watch as red drips from his nose to his lips. You do nothing but wait for his response.

He shakes his head, "I would not."

You shake your head and grab the dry towel for him. He takes it and feels his stomach drop when you begin to pace around. The closer you get to the door, the more uneasy he feels. He cannot help himself, "kostilus gaomagon daor henujagon nyke." Please do not leave me.

The thought makes you laugh, so you do. You turn to him, nearly moved to spit at his face. He so brazenly requests such a thing from you when he paid you no heed when you requested the same from him. You do not act beneath yourself though, "iksan daor tetan lēda ao." I am not finished with you.

He does not like the tone with which you speak this, and yet he says, "iksan biare." I am glad.

"Why did you ambush my wards?"

Daemon tenses.

"How did you come into my chambers if they were keeping watch outside?"

He wipes the blood off his lips, "there are secret passages to nearly every room in the castle."

You shrug and cross your arms, "did you attack them because it would be too easy to attack me?"

He pulls his head back, "do not vilify me," he shake his head, "do not presume I would ever atta-"

"YOU ARE MY VILLAIN!" your splintered resolve finally breaks. You unleash your rage by the hurtling your heel at him. Your right shoe misses Daemon by a hair, but your left shoe hits him in the shoulder when he turns to dodge your assault.

You charge at him with a guttural screech, fully intent on battering his body, but he does not let you. He grabs your wrists and easily overpowers you, calling your name out.

Daemon traps you in his arms and in return, you begin kicking him. He yelps when you kick his shin, but does not release you. He shudders as he tightens his arms around you, "kostilus, kostilus keligon. Gīda ilagon, ik—" please, please stop. Calm down, I—

"LET ME GO!" you shriek, exerting all of your strength into elbowing him.

You can't though, his hold on you was too strong. And though he hated that this was how he got to hold you, he could not help the way his face leaned into your nape to breathe in your scent. He weeps against you, begging you to calm down.

And you do, not because you want to, but because you could no longer breathe.

Daemon feels it, the exact moment you tense just to go limp. His hold on you loosens in an instant. It was a mistake because of how you flop forward. His heart leaps into his mouth as he feels your body spasm and gasp for air.

He lays you down on the cot and his eyes go wide at the sight of the veins popping out of your neck. He immediately rubs your chest and frantically calls out your name.

You looked like you were choking. A drowned man in the Stepstones immediately comes to mind.

He takes your jaw and breathes air into your mouth. A string of snot mixed with blood is drawn out between you as he pulls away to examine your face.

He had only seen it once. One of the men from the fleet was found washed up shore. When he was dragged out, they fully intended to bury him, until an Iron Born came forward.

Daemon presses his hands atop your ribs and begins to pump your chest. He does this a few times before pinching your nostrils and breathing into your mouth again. He remembered what the Iron Born called it: the kiss of life. He brings to mind the explanation the Iron Born gave when he had asked how he did it.

And as he did it on you, he could only pray that he remembered it right.

The prince could barely see from how his tears blurred his vision. It looked like you were going grey and whatever he was doing wasn't working. His voice shakes as he blurts, "kostilus, gaomagon daor henujagon nyke!" please, do not leave me.

You eyelids begin to close.

"KOSTILUS," he pumps your chest again, "vestā īlē daor tetan lēda nyke!" He shudders as he wills you to come back to consciousness. PLEASE, you said you were not finished with me!

You feel your lungs deflate. You can't seem to feel anything else.

Daemon grabs your cheeks and breathes into your mouth again, and again, and again. He presses his head to your chest and listens closely to your heart beat. Tears rush down to your skin as he screws his eyes shut. He can't hear anything. He can't hear anything.

He scoops you into you his chest and sobs into you. He mutters your name repeatedly. He cannot seem to do anything else but weep.

He takes your hand, cold and clammy, and squeezes it as he brings it to his mouth to kiss it, "please, please, please, don't leave me."

He sniffles and straightens up. Help. He should call for help. "MAESTER! MAESTER!" He comes to a stand, but his knees are weak and he crumples down to the floor.

A few moments later, a maester from one of the inner offices emerges. Seeing the distraught prince with a bloody nose, he is taken aback, "my prince-"

"HELP HER!" he howls from the floor. He tries to come to a stand, but even his arm gives in and he slips down to the floor. He resigns to his misery and lays on his back, "HELP MY WIFE!"

The maester runs to you, nearly tripping on the legs of the prince.

As Daemon groans helplessly, the maester that had gone to have cake delivered to young prince Aegon arrives. He runs up to the prince, "my prince, what has-"

"My wife is dead, isn't she?" Daemon mumbles through a sob.

The maester stiffens and turns to the other maester with wide eyes, "what has-"

"Her heartbeat is weak," the other maester blurts, "she succumbed to her affliction, no doubt."

The old man walks over Daemon and comes to your side. The one who had inspected you turns to the prince, "rise, your grace. She is not overcome. Her heart persists even in weakness."

Daemon lifts his head and scrambles to his knees. He calls your name, lips wobbling, cheeks wet with sorrow, a red streak trickled down from his nose.

"However," the same maester says as he gives way to Daemon, "I fear there is nothing else we can do but pray her heart keeps persisting." He offers the prince a towel.

He sniffles, opting to wipe his face on his sleeve. He shakes his head, "she will persist. She is not finished with me."

The maesters look at each other. One says, "we shall give you your privacy, Prince Daemon. I shall have the sept pray for her health and strength."

Daemon kneels beside your cot, squeezing one of your hands, "a blanket, maester. She is cold."

"Of course," he offers him the blanket neatly folded on the other cot.

The two maesters leave after Daemon cloaks you with a blanket. He tucks you in and brushes your brown hair away from your face. He sniffles as he looks upon you. Another bout of sobs arrest him.

He rests his head upon your lap, unwanting to put pressure upon your chest or belly. He embraces you as he despairs. His voice his broken as he says your name. He dries his tears on the blanket before coming to a stand.

He finds the maesters, all huddled up and muttering to each other in the office room.

"My prince," one says, walking over, "what is—"

"Is th-ere truly nothing to be done?" his voice cracks, low and pained.

They look at each other for a moment. One replies, "forgive us, your grace, but no."

Daemon makes a pained noise as he sniffles.

The maesters all look upon the troubled prince with pity.

"Right," he wipes his face on his sleeve, "I will bring her to our chambers then, that I may share in her embrace. Perhaps my heat and desperation with strengthen her body."

They nod as Daemon walks off.

The prince gathers you in his arms. You feel lighter than he remembers. He gazes upon your face, thinking of the day he had carried you home from the temple. He remembers your terrible prayer and gulps, "the gods do not grant such cruel things."

He walks down the halls that presently felt haunted. He can barely feel your breathing on his neck. He prays it is because has been thickened from the burns he suffered in the Stepstones.

He stops in his tracks when he sees Alicent with her son lingering in one of the halls. He and her stare at each other heatedly for a good moment. He continues walking.

Alicent turns to Aegon, "my darling, we should go inside."

"No!" Aegon whines, "AUNT!"

Daemon's chest tightens.

Alicent distracts him as Daemon comes closer, "later, my love we will-"

The distraction does not work. Aegon spots you and recognizes you too easily, "AUNT!"

Alicent tries to hold him back, but she can only do so much in her pregnant state.

Daemon stops in his tracks once more as the young boy runs up to him. Aegon, with his tiny hands and big violet eyes, reaches out for you.

Alicent runs over, "Aegon, no!" She pulls him away.

Aegon whines but stops when Daemon says, "issa ēdrure, valītsos." She is sleeping, boy.

Alicent clenches her teeth. Aegon furrows his brows, "ēdrure?" Sleep?

"Kessa," Daemon mutters, "issa olvie ēdrugī." Yes. She is very tired.

Aegon pouts, "cake!"

"Tolī. Ziry teptan ao iā kivio, gōntan ziry daor?" Later. She gave you a promise, did she not?

Aegon blinks at him and points, "sad."

Daemon tenses.

"Mundagon sodjisto ēdrugon." Sad aunt sleeps.

Daemon adjusts you in his arms as he looks off. He hastens in his way back to your shared chambers.

Alicent watches the man walk away with her sister in his arms. A shiver runs down her spine as she begins to think the worst.

Daemon changes you out of your dress and undoes your hair. He tucks you in bed before changing himself. He lights a single candle by the bedside table before lying beside you.

He nuzzles into your neck and throws his leg over yours. He rubs your bare sternum, glad to be able to feel the thumping of your heart.

His stream of tears do not seem to cease. He can now feel every fibre of pain on his face and body. He aches and aches; He aches mostly for you.

He thinks back to your last conversation. He recalls the explanation he owes you, "I did it because you spoke their names in your sleep."

You sigh heavily.

Daemon lifts his head up, hoping you would wake. You do not.

He sighs, wiping his face on his dress shirt and clarifies, "Arryk and Erryk."

He looks upon your form. Your face shines under candlelight. He longs to see it under the light of the sun and moon.

"I cannot bare to know you dream of them," he mutters, propping himself up on one arm, "you moaned their name."

Your arms are already warm but Daemon rubs them still.

"Gods know how I surely moaned your name in my sleep," he sighs, "... as I fucked other women."

You remain unmoving.

"Did they sate you, I wonder?" his throat tightens. He feels a hot tear run down his nose, "... did you moan my name when they fucked you?"

Jealously, anger, and hurt force more tears out of him. He rests his head on your chest, awfully defeated. He clutches the fabric of your nightgown as he laments with his eyes screwed shut.

"Do you dream of me?"

Warmth spreads across his cheek. He feels his snot begin to drip. He moves to wipe his nose, but feels something in the way.

You fool.

His eyes open. His lips part when he realizes your hand is on his cheek. He lifts his head, placing his hand atop yours.

"D—mon."

His breath trembles. He squeezes your hand, "I'm here." He kisses your palm.

Your eyes slowly open.

Daemon's heart skips. He laughs but quickly breaks into a sob.

You can barely see his face in the darkness, but you can feel the way his head shook as he wept. You brush your tears with your thumb and repeat the words Daemon thought he imagined you say, "you fool."

He shudders as he watches you knit your brows.

"I dream only one dream," you whisper. You grunt as you feel your head pound, "and it is neither of my wards or you."

He shifts slightly to better see you, careful to keep your hand on his face. He asks, soft and careful, "what do you dream of?"

He tenses when you pull away. He is about to beg for forgiveness for even asking, but then he realizes you merely wished to sit up. He helps you lean back on the headboard and sits beside you, hands fidgeting with the blanket, for he did not know if you wanted to hold his hand.

You don't. Your hands go to his beaten face. You sigh, "our children."

Daemon's expression slips.

"Alaeric and Alyrie," you add, gently rubbing his cheeks, "it was not Arryk nor Erryk's name I muttered, but theirs."

His hands come atop yours again. His eyes are red with tears.

"They-" your lips tremble, "-they were a moon too early."

The sound of your name spilling from his lips is horrible.

You lower your gaze and slowly pull away from him. You clutch your chest when you feel it begin to tighten. You take your time to draw in deep breaths to calm yourself.

Daemon brushes your hair back and rubs your arms.

You whine when he touches you. You pull away, "please, don't."

It is worse than a kick to the teeth how you move back. He is frantic when you look as though you wanted to leave bed. He calls out your name and immediately begins to apologize, "please. Forgive me. I will not tou-"

"I need to go for a walk," you mutter as you come to a stand.

Daemon immediately springs into action, taking your arm, helping you keep yourself upright. You grip his bicep and point to the chair, "my robe."

He immediately takes your robe and helps you put it on. He proceeds to help you slip your shoes on and you whine at the tightening of your chest. Daemon is frantic, "what is it? What is happening? What do you need?"

You shake your head and sigh, "a walk... just a walk."

Neither of you speak as you walk outside of your room. You saunter down the now dark halls holding Daemon's bicep. His gaze barely leaves you. He is focused only on your conditions.

You feel exhausted, and you turn to the prince, figuring he probably felt the same way, "it's not much farther."

He shakes his head, "where you go, I will follow."

You see the worry on his face. You do not have it in you to try and comfort him. You turn away and rub your chest.

Soon, you arrive to your destination. The gardens are lit up by the light of the stars and the moon. You move past the thick rose bushes and find the fountain that rest behind them.

Daemon is surprised by its existence.

You take notice, "my father had it commissioned for me."

He gasps when you release him and chases after your hand.

You watch as he squeezes you and shake your head, "I will just walk around the fountain, Daemon."

He turns to the said fountain, watching leaves and blossoms flow with the trickling water. He nods, "then so shall I."

Daemon secures your hand on his bicep. You do not argue, "very well."

The two of you walk around the large, rounded stone. Daemon is one again focused only on you. On the other hand, you are solely focused on loosening the tightness in your lungs.

"Will you tell me more about them?"

Them? You didn't not want to talk about them, lest you faint. You reach for a rose bud that fell into the water and fish it out. You take a moment to decide on your answer and end up shaking your head, "another time."

Daemon is disheartened by your response for he did not know if you did not want to speak of your children because of how greatly it hurt or because you simply did not want to speak to him. Still, he nods, "of course."

It does not take long for you to completely circle around the fountain. You look at the flower in your hand, "you do not have to trace all my steps."

"I do."

You turn to him.

His breath hitches.

"Why?"

He momentarily looks at the flower in your hand, "I do not want you to go where I cannot follow."

You stop in your tracks; so does he.

He stares at you, hoping you had something to say.

You don't. You continue walking.

[stuffeddeer]

Idk if your like still taking asks since your last one was 2 whole weeks ago but i really just wanted to talk about 15!Dazai cause i miss my pookie and i reread your first kiss hc’s and ughhh being Dazai’s first ever crush, hes so smitten with you and doesn’t even understand why, maybe also forces Chuuya to be his unwilling wingman because he deadass uses cringey one liners on you and chuuya is sick and tired of it.

15!Dazai deserves to be a giddy infatuated teenager and kicking his legs like a schoolgirl when you give him your attention 🤧

Smitten 15!Dazai needing a wingman | Bungo Stray Dogs | Dazai x reader

nearly 8 months later i am here to complete this request!!! hope this is what you wanted (and was maybe worth the wait lol)

Chuuya doesn't really get the whole "Demon Prodigy" thing. Oh, Dazai is just soo smart and soo scary - what a joke. Chuuya has seen him spend ten minutes trying to figure out how to open a cereal box. Sure, the ginger didn't know either, but he figured it out quickly once the brunet gave up.

On the battlefield, Dazai can be quick-witted and ruthless, a foe worthy of his title. Yet right now, Chuuya watches with his arms crossed as the man beside him stumbles over his words while trying to talk to you about the weather of all topics.

It's sickening, almost - seeing the "genius" Dazai so blatantly ignore every signal you're sending. It's true, of course, that the brunet teen is exceptionally off-putting and non-socialized. The bandaged kid with unruly black hair and one emotionless eye (the other bandaged up and hidden away) is the type of weird befitting a title such as Demon Prodigy. While he is a mere 15 year old, his presence rouses unease wherever he goes.

Or so Chuuya was told. With him, the 15 year old is just that: a 15 year old. Dazai is bright but childish, boisterous and witty, ready to spar verbally until Chuuya has to walk away to calm himself down. The Dazai that Chuuya had come to know during their relatively recent partnership would never falter like this around someone his age - someone of equal standing. He isn't one to falter with those of higher standing, either.

Lackeys fear him, new recruits find him off putting and so on. But there are a few in the mafia - Chuuya and yourself - that are privy to see what he can really be like. Or, Chuuya, more exclusively. You... get an interesting version of him, to say the least.

“So that’s why it’s actually bad that it’s sunny out,” Dazai finishes, cheeks dusted an embarrassed red and hands wringing together. Is that… sweat? Dripping down his forehead? The man is always annoyingly cold, usually shoving a freezing hand onto Chuuya’s neck just to laugh while watching him recoil.

Jeez. Chuuya already knows how smitten Dazai is for you, but this is a new low he wasn’t expecting.

You politely smile, trying to act like his rambling made any lick of sense. “Well, I suppose I like flowers enough to concede. A little rain is good now and again.”

“We both like flowers!” Dazai points out. You idiot; everyone does.

Chuuya takes one hand out of his pockets to readjust his hat. “Dazai’s been tryin’ to get me to go to some flower garden on the other side of Yokohama,” he decides to lie. As if it wasn’t clear before, you pretending Dazai’s argument held any merit only proves that you like him back. Helping you is all he’s trying to do, because that stupid mackerel will never make a move on his own. “But I keep tellin’ him I’m not interested. Would be nice if you took my place.”

Eyes widening ever so slightly, you turn to Dazai with a timid expression. “I didn’t know we had one.”

“Wait, I— “

“It’s free admittance. Paid for by the government to clean up our city or somethin’ - Kouyou told us about it,” which is true, minus the part where Kouyou told Dazai as well.

The excited smile you give causes Dazai’s usually-controlled heart to leap into his throat. “That’s super cool! I totally wanna go, if you’re still up for it, Dazai.”

He doesn’t reply. The stupid, idiotic strategist that supposedly has been bolstering the Port Mafia’s defenses is left defenseless by a pretty smile. Seriously? This is what Chuuya has to put up with? He should just smack Dazai and take it all back. He’s never helping this lost cause again.

With one gloved hand, Chuuya slams it against Dazai’s head to force it into a nod. The slam is hard enough for Dazai to snap out of his stupor, but soft enough that you don’t notice how rough the ginger is being. “Say yes, idiot.”

And Dazai quickly follows through. He swats Chuuya’s hand away with an “I was gonna do that,” before clearing his throat. Looking back at you clogs it up once again and he gives an awkward smile back and a nod of his own this time. “Y-yep! I wanna go. With you. Well! Not like with with you, but like, with you. So, not like a date, just— I wanna go and you should come.”

Chuuya did his part. Can he leave yet? God, remind him to never help Dazai ever again. This was embarrassing for Chuuya and the short man is just a bystander. Though, the flush on Dazai’s face and the excited grin on yours helps to keep Chuuya’s annoyance at bay. At the very least, now the two of you can finally move on from this awkward crush stage and he won’t have to see Dazai metaphorically drown himself in every conversation with you.

And when the two of them got back a week later out of breath from running, Dazai’s hands covered in dirt and you holding an uprooted bouquet of fresh flowers, Chuuya realizes that maybe he chose the wrong location.

[notlhecxzsa]

I'd Marry You With Paper Rings - N.R

Summary: Natasha is many things but a person who knows comfort and care. But, with you, why does it come off naturally? As if, all her life, it is what she was trained to do—to you and only for you. She could feel it on the way home and her friends surely could hear it in the silence, but things happened. Would she still be the greatest warrior in this game of terror and save you or...?

Author's Note: Ahhhh, finally, here we are! 5k words, not proofread (im really sorryyy, i wanted to give it to you quickly since you guys have been bombarding me ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ)

Warnings: simp!natasha, soft!natasha, tooth rotting fluff, happy y/n=happy natasha, ahhh Beefy!natasha, literally the calm before the storm, Y/n having some adult... thoughts about Natasha's hands

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3rd Person's POV:

Natasha was never the one to show sympathy, maybe for her friends who treated her more like a family than her own. They are the boundary between Natasha's humanity and Natasha's out of this world characteristics of a human.

Not that Natasha would care enough if millions of people would see her as a monster—hell she doesn't even care enough about the downfall of hundreds of companies before hers while she makes it to the top.

But, even with all that, it doesn't mean that Natasha doesn't tend to show her once in a blue moon kindness. Not 'show' show, as it is often done through the dark, in the silence of her name being labeled as anonymous. Doing things like donating half of a million to different charities—giving extra when it is Christmas.

Even so, Natasha couldn't careless to hear how grateful those people are for her, already being contented when Maria would say that it was already given.

All that only for her to show such care for a girl she was forced to marry—the same girl that caught something inside her she didn't know existed. How could she? When all she's ever known is how to hold a gun? How to fight raw with her trembling body until she passed a test that no teenager should got through? How to not prioritize how she feels?

She's grown to believe that her calloused hands are never meant to hold someone so dearly. For her mouth that ended life after life to never speak with such care and mold with gentleness. For her mind that only craved for revenge and thought of unholy things to and never those comforting words that left her mouth when she spoke to you.

Never believed that her heart could ever feel things that she felt for you.

"Do you want some juice to go with that?" She analyzed you carefully, as if you would break even with just a wrong glare of a pair of eyes.

She reminded herself to make up those words that left her mouth with a certain gentleness—witnessing how you would tensed visibly when she or Maria would speak out of nowhere, especially after what happened 3 days ago.

"N-no... water's good." You spoke quietly, looking at her briefly before you focused on the food again.

Natasha stood up, going to the fridge to get the orange juice that she often sees you pouring yourself with before eating. Also pouring herself one, she brought those two tall glasses on the table, offering you a small smile that she seemed to be wearing oh so often whenever you would look at her.

"T-thank you..." She watched as a certain light sparked in your eyes, almost the same one she found herself yearning to get a glimpse of again.

Clearing her throat, Natasha was close to feeling embarrassed with how long she set her gaze on you, turning back on her food once again. "Maria bought some fresh fruits earlier, you can just get some in the fridge if you would want." She said before taking a bite of the rotisserie chicken you made.

Even with all your energy seemed to be wiped off of the face of the earth, you still managed to give her the best of your cooking and never failed to make her stomach grumbled in happiness. Natasha could swear that all the foods you make is enough to make her work non stop without being tired, but she would never tell anyone that.

Even if the foods you make are against her diet and workout routine.

But, then again, she would never ever tell a soul about that.

Natasha saw in her peripheral vision how you only nodded, a very small tight lip smile—almost invisible, stretch its way out of your face, but still, Natasha could clearly see that.

Inhaling a bunch of air quietly, Natasha shook her thoughts away and decided to eat in silence once again. "Mr. Clint and the others... when will they come here?" Natasha heard you asked quietly.

"Oh... I don't know..." Natasha answered, gazing up to your face only to notice how you shoulder deflated. "It's been so busy in the company, but I'm sure they'll come visit soon." She almost cringed with how she rushed to add that answer, but felt a wave of contentment when she saw you nodded.

Having small conversations with Natasha seemed to become easier these past few days, and you are more than happier to entertain it while it lasts. Pushing aside your shyness, taking advantage of every seconds talking with her.

Silence once again covered the atmosphere before she heard you clear your throat and started to talk. "W-when are we getting married?" A question that never left your mind ever since you got there, having no idea what no idea what will even happen.

Or how things will happen. It felt right to ask that—to talk to Natasha about the barely spoken matrimony that will be happening to the both of you, or what you thought to be happening.

Natasha stopped moving, it felt as if her blood also stopped flowing. What Yelena said came rushing inside her head, feelings and emotions came clashing with each other in just a mere split of a second.

You didn't know. You never knew.

"Uh..." Natasha started speaking, not wanting her silence to bring more questions inside your naive mind. Remembering how she sometimes treated you so low just because of the forced marriage that came upon her door. You are more of the victim than she was in this. "My parents... and yours, are still working on it." She offered you a glance, not knowing if she's trying to reassure herself you're believing her.

You slowly nodded, looking at her in the eyes. "Hmm, okay... we just... haven't really talked about it... and I- I mean, I..." You slowly looked down, as if it makes you feel embarrassed to admit what you were about to say. "I just wanted to... uhm, know more..." Looking at her through your eyelashes, the same look that makes Natasha's heart wince with something she would never dare to name what.

Natasha nodded, not knowing anymore what to say. She is a woman full of words, knowledge and everything.

Shame on her parents for giving her the only person who could bring her to her knees, but that would be something that Natasha will never let herself admit, even to herself.

She just knows that she will think of something about the case of your marriage. Something that doesn't involve disappointing you more than you might already have.

Thinking of an escape, she inhaled, remembering the question she wanted to ask ever since she watched you too long while you were gazing out in the balcony. "Would you like to get out of here?" Your gaze snapped up at her, your eyebrows raised in an adorable manner—well, Natasha thought so.

"Go...? Out?" You asked as if in disbelief.

You've never be out of this huge penthouse ever since you step a foot in here—not like you weren't also caged back in Hawaii.

"Yeah..." Natasha answered, cutting herself a piece of the chicken as if she just asked something casual. For othe first time, she was gonna take you out. Not like how she felt when she saw you longingly look out in the window. "You know... mall? or, wherever you want to go."

It made you feel giddy, having to finaly roam the place you only gaze at on the big windows and spacious balcony that Natasha has inside the penthouse. "Yes." Natasha could hear the visible high pitched tone in your voice, making her heart swell hearing a certain joy in your voice.

Looking into your eyes, you're surprised to see how a small smile could reach her green eyes. "Would you like to go out today?" Your mouth was agaped, looking at the clock.

"N-now?" You asked, hesitating. As if you're not believing what she was saying.

"Yeah, I mean, if you're in the mood. But, if you're not, I'm sure I can settle my busy schedule for you." Oh how she would do anything to spend time with you—what she would do to give you everything.

Perking up, you dismissed her offer, your hands clasping together in front of you as if you're pleading to her. "No!" Her small smile slowly stretched widely. "We can go now, Natty!" If you were both in a cartoon show now, the way her ears perked up at the nickname would be visble, almost as visble as the flush spreading from her neck up to her cheeks.

You didn't seem to mind the adorable nickname you've just given her, she thought. So, she kept it behind her thoughts, noting to deal with it later—when you're out of sight.

"Are you sure?" She said, slowly taking a bit of the food, as if it was to hide her smirk.

You head shook up and down, Natasha couls see how tight you're gripping the utensils beside your plate like a chile. How you're trying to suppress a huge smile she wished she could force out of you. "Yes... yes, Natty."

God, shame on her parents for giving her the only person who could bring her to her knees—who could make her do impossible things.

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Natasha glanced at the back of your head for the nth time, only to avert her gaze on the road. Not sure if it was because of the fear of getting caught or the new rule she made earlier. Always keep you safe.

"There's a park near at the 2nd stoplight ahead..." She started, her pointed gaze staying on the road but she could see how you turned to look at her. Did she forced herself not to gaze back into your awaiting eyes that sparkles as if she held the stars in the sky? "But, there's also a Mall a few blocks away from it with an amusement park behind it. Many options are laid out everywhere, where would you like to go?"

As she explained, her tone was surprisingly soft. Not the one she would use to her people—not even the one she would use to her friends and especially to her family.

"I-I don't... Where do you want to go?" She heard you say, as if scared to make a decision. A decision that's big. There was a certain edge in your tone, but she could hear it from the tip of your tounge.

She had seen your eyes that big ferris wheel from her balcony, always facing the way towards it as if your biggest wish is too touch it from miles away.

She turned to look you in the eyes, taking advantage of the red lights stopping the motions of the flowing cars. Your hair was down, a spectacle hanging on the arch of your nose, since you were having a headache earlier as you said, saying it just might be your visionary problems, she watched as you put it on.

"You choose, detka. I promise, I'm fine with wherever you want to go, yeah?" She said ever so gently before reaching out to pat your head, as if you were some child.

Natasha is good with so many things, really, but not when it comes to physical touch. Only knowing how to knock out people with a punch and kill with a gun.

She watched as you look down and fumbled the ends of your blue dress, that fits oh so perfectly well with your body, hugging all its curve. It took her all the will power she has to not check you out and make it weird with hwo long she was staring earlier. Only if you knew what you do to her.

She averted her gaze when her eyes catch a couple of faint bruises that seems to be healing already. It kept her awake at night wondering what your body has been through for the bruises to stay for that long.

She was surprisingly happy when she saw you wore a dress, even with the cardigan on top that you forgot to wear earlier, giving her a chance to see you. Clearly, Natasha would rather for you to take it off, but she found herself prioritizing you as her heart ached seeing you fumble the cardigan, fastening it around you.

Whatever you're comfortable with. She thought.

She caught herself staring at your lips a little too long before averting her eyes and inahling deeply, making sure she's quiet while doing so.

"How about we go to the park first? After that, we can eat at the mall and if you would like to buy something, we can do that also?" She caught in her peripheral vision how you snapped your head towards her, making her turn to you once again, hoping for time to slow down. "Then after that, we can go around the amusement park and do whatever you want?" She watched as you took in everything she said, with that same expression you always wear whenever she's talking.

The same one that makes Natasha feel so seen... and heard.

She's a woman of her words, giving people no choice but to listen, obey and watch everything that she does. But with you, it feels different.

You nodded, giving her a small shy smile before settling your hands on your lap. "I'd like that."

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Y/n's POV:

Clutching the cardigan in one hand, I hold the melting ice cream in the other that Natalia had bought me. It made me laugh thinking that she might've been reading my mind since I was just looking at the ice cream truck, with so much longingness to get a taste and she insisted on buying the both of us.

We walked side by side, letting her lead me as my eyes trailed everywhere. My heart jumps in happiness at every person I see, every structure that fascinates me, and every joyful moment I witness.

This scenery can't be seen from the balcony at the penthouse—god, how much I wish I could see it from there.

"Here..." Turning to look at her, I saw her wiping the bench with her bare hands for any invisible dirt before standing up straight. "Sit. We could see everything from here and so your feet won't get tired also." She explained, wiping her hand from the back of her pants.

I smiled, suddenly feeling giddy for some reason. She waited until I was seated, taking a seat beside me, unconsciously making me get a whiff of her expensive perfume that I grew accustomed to. I could smell it everywhere in the penthouse, making it weirdly feel more... comfortable.

"Thank you, Natalia." I mumbled, looking at her even though she just kept her gaze towards the scenery in front of us, only nodding as she ate her ice cream that is almost finished already. I haven't even eaten mine halfway!

I rummage through my small sling bag, taking out a hand sanitizer and bumping it to her biceps that are finding inside a black polo that she paired with some slacks. "Your hands are dirty, you shouldn't have wiped the seat." I murmured, catching her gaze for a moment before taking the sanitizer.

I took her ice cream so she could use both of her hands. "Oh, thanks." I heard her say almost inaudibly and she went on to sanitize her hands. "You could've gotten dirt on your dress, detka. It's light." She said, and I only shrugged, nodding as I watched her hands while licking the ice cream.

Even her hands looked so expensive. I found myself staring at it for too long, feeling something I've never felt before. I bet it would be larger than mine. The veins around it are visible, but it didn't change how... cool I see it.

"You have beautiful hands, Natalia." I blurted out, offering her a small smile as I showed my adoration.

I caught a glimpse of her throat's movement of swallowing, as her gaze snapped to mind. She didn't smile but kept her lips in a tight line and nodded a little. She's the one who put the sanitizer back in my bag before taking her ice cream as I lick mine, catching her eyes sticking to the movements I made before looking back towards the scenery in front of us.

I did the same, minding how she cleared her throat a couple of times and the way her shoulder moved as she inhaled deeply.

"Do you often go here?" I asked, and her head moved to the side, not meeting my gaze but a sign that she listened to me and is paying attention.

I watched as she shook her head. "Hmm, no. It's my first time here. I just passed by the same road on the way here very often." Narrowing my eyes, I was surprised.

"What? Really?" If I lived here before, this would be my favorite place! There's a breathtaking fountain in the middle, trees surrounding the area that provides fresh air, food truck vendors littering almost everywhere. "I'd go here everyday, that's for sure." Giggling a little, I stared at my ice cream, looking at the certain side that is already melting and licking it all the way up, tilting my head to the side as I did so.

While doing that, I caught Natalia's gaze since her head is still facing sideways. Once again, her eyes stick to the movements I made before she looked away as if my gaze shot laser beams at her face.

Clearing her throat once again, she answered, "You like it that much?" She said, already finishing off the cone.

I nodded even though she couldn't see me with a smile playing on my face. "I love it." I said with a certain enthusiasm that I made sure she heard.

Her head moved in satisfaction. "Good."

"Why do you not come here?" I asked further, checking if I'm not annoying her with my questions.

"Hmm, not the... kind of places I like to go to." She confessed and I slowly nodded, jumping in to reply.

"We could go now if you would like." I offered, watching the side of her face.

I found myself almost insecure with how well defined her face is, her nose is so perfect and how her lashes seemed to be so well cut even though it's so full.

Her eyes met mine, only then did I realize how intently I was staring at her. My gaze fell down on her lips that looked as soft as the clouds to avoid her eyes. "No—I mean, it's fine... I'm enjoying it." She gave me a smile that warms my heart, it felt like I was hugging Tamtam.

Nodding with a content smile on my face, I caught how her gaze on me softened a little more before I looked back at the scenery and finished my ice cream.

I am loving this day more and more!

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I felt a hand circling around my waist as we walked inside the mall—a very huge one, and seemed to be so expensive. There are a lot of luxurious brands around that I have seen my Mom and Dad have back at home. There were a lot of guards more than usual when we entered the place, but it seems like it was normally like that as Natalia guided me inside.

There's so many people, but it's not crowded either. It doesn't look like the malls that Lucy would take me to. It could not be an ordinary mall.

"Would you like to buy something? Or should we eat first, hmm?" Turning to look back at Natalia who was looking around the area, only then did I realize how close she is to me, but I didn't make a big fuss about it—finding it rather... comforting.

"I-I..." Looking around, I caught a glimpse of restaurants that seemed to be very expensive too. Well dressed people going in and out, walking past us. "I don't know, Natty..." My attention is getting everything and capturing everything.

Not used to going out and being with so many people in foreign places is not something that felt comforting to me, though it is not bad either. Things just tend to... overwhelmed me.

"Okay, how about we eat first hmm? Then we can go buy whatever you want." I felt a hand tucking the strands of my hair behind my ear, out of my face making me look back at the owner of the same calloused hand.

She's smiling down at me, urging me to make a decision but doesn't make me feel pressured at the same time. "I'd like that, Natty." I said, grinning up at her as I clutched her hand.

"Okay then, come on, detka. I have a favorite restaurant around here, you'll like it." We started walking as she pulled her hand away from mine but kept her other hand around my waist, keeping me close.

"Oh, you go here a lot?" I asked, looking up at her.

Without returning my questioning gaze, she answered. "I own the Mall."

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"Ms. Romanoff."

"Good afternoon, Madam."

"Great to see you again, Ms. Romanoff."

Greetings after greetings from people from the restaurant and until now in a very big shopping area where she lead me. I smiled through it all even though I haven't heard them saying my name, noticing as Natalia did not even seem to acknowledge all of it, only nodding in the air.

"You pick whatever you want, alright?" She said to me, leaning down as her hands stayed put around my waist, as if whispering a secret. "Here..." She turned and pulled out a cart that was behind here.

"I-I..." Looking up at her hesitantly. "I don't think I need anything." It took her a moment to respond, looking at me with what seemed to be an amusement or surprised in her eyes.

It is true. I don't think I need anything. I have clothes. I brought a couple of my outside bags and shoes.

"It's..." She trailed off, making me look at her confusedly before she turned and motioned a person to come. They started talking, so I took the chance to wander my gaze around the floor, still staying in her hands that seemed to be glued around me.

There's so many... things in here. I feel like everything can be found here. Bags, alcohol, necessities, clothing, jewelry, I could also see a food shop at the end of a hall—just everything.

There were lots of workers too, buyers going in and out and around.

"...No, I want the best one. Give me the latest one you have..." I overheard Natalia talk but my attention quickly went to a stuffed toy that looked so cute! Oh god, now I missed my stuffies back at home.

I suddenly felt giddy and my hands itched to touch them. Thankfully, I brought my wallet with me and Natalia had insisted on paying for the earlier payments. Maybe I could buy her one too!

I turned to check on her if she's already done talking to the man, as soon as I heard them finishing up the conversation, tha man walked away and I quickly tugged on Natalias arm. "Natty." Her gaze immediately went down to meet mine, her eyebrows narrowing in question. "Can I go over there?" Turning as I point towards the pack of stuffies that comes in different kinds, sizes and colors. "Please?" I added as soon as I look back to her, she was already looking at me with her lips turning upwards on one side—smirking.

"I mean—if it's okay with you—but if not! We can just go and look at some other things." I immediately said, pulling away from her.

Quickly, in return, she took ahold of my hand again. "Come on, detka." The cart on one hand and mine on the other, she tugged me towards it. "Would you like to buy those?" She asked as soon as we got near towards it.

Forgetting to answer, my hand quickly reached out to take a hold of the biggest one in the center before leaning towards it to give it a squeeze. "It's so adorable! It's so fluffy!" I squealed, making sure that only Natalia and I could hear. "Natty!" Calling out as I turned to look at her, "Come! Take a look—hold it, it's so fluffy!" Catching the smile from her face fade quickly as she stood up straight, looking around as soon as I reached my hand out.

"I don't—I don't think..." She sounded hesitant as she continue to look around, as if checking if people are looking at us, but as soon as her gaze met mine, her shoulder relaxed a little and I watch as a small smile stretch its way out of her face.

Taking my hand in hers as she walked slowly, I tugged her until she's just as  close to the stuffy as I am. "Squeeze it! Like this." I hugged the huge brown teddy bear, only to be stopped by a voice.

"Sorry, Miss, but you're not allowed to do that." It was flat and seemed to be upset, looking back I saw one of the worker here. She was looking at me with one of her eyebrows raised as her gaze trailed up and down my figure.

Quickly pulling away, I bowed my head down. "Oh! I'm-" I was going to start apologizing but Natalia's booming cold voice cut me off.

"Go. We will be buying this, don't worry." The woman stammered as soon as Natalia walked in front of me, putting her hands around my shoulder.

The woman stammered the apologies that slipped her mouth, walking away quickly after finishing. "N-Natty, I-I'm really sorry, I didn't know-" With my heart almost beating its way out if my chest, thinking that Natalia might have been so disappointed at my actions.

"Hey, hey, stop with those. Touch everything you wanna touch, try everything you want, don't mind them, alright?" I coyly looked up to her, my hands wringing together in hesitation.

"Come on now, pick what else you might like, okay? I'll get this delivered in the penthouse, I don't think it will fit with us in the car." Her small laugh made my smile, before I frowned.

"Wait, how much is this?—" Again, I was cut off.

"Something you shouldn't be worried about, baby." With that, she called a new worker and started discussing about the delivery transaction, leaving me gazing at her.

"Now, what else would you like?"

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Natasha's POV:

"What- What is this?" Stopping my movements to start the car, I looked down to Y/n's outstretched hands with what seemed to be a wallet in her hold.

"You didn't let me pay..." She turned her head down, as if scared to meet my gaze. "I wanted to buy you those other stuffies earlier. Here, take my wallet and take how much it costs or... or... oh, also the other things that you got me from the store. It was so many and expensive, it might've cost you a lot." Looking back to me, she forced the wallet into my chest as I gaze at her in disbelief, smirking as I did so.

This girl never fails to surprise me. Chuckling, an idea came up to me.

Taking a hold of her arm, I took her wallet. "Those numbers comes back to my bank account every minute, darling. But... I'll take this." Her eyes widened a little as I put her pink wallet inside my blazer.

"Oh- a-all of it?" She asked, and I start the car.

"Yeah... all of it." Smiling at her as I pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, holding it on her lap.

The blush on her face didn't go unnoticed as I smiled, gazing towards the way.

"O-okay..." She settled down on her seat, both of her hands holding mine.

"Are you tired already, solnechnyy svet?" I could feel her confused gaze burning holes into the side of my head but I didn't bother explaining what the word meant just as she didn't bother asking what it is.

"Not really, no." I heard her say as she leaned back to the seat, gazing back at the road where the city lights laid out before us.

Looking towards her, catching a glimpse of how the lights reflected over her face. I could feel myself breaking a smile, which I let on, going back to looking at the road.

"Are you sure, detka?" I asked once more, my tone playful.

"I just want to rest already, but not yet sleepy." She explained, her voice soothing my ear.

"Hmmm." I hummed in acknowledgement. "Not yet sleepy. Alright, princess." I added, turning the wheel around the corner.

I felt a tug on my arm before she started speaking. "Can we watch a movie later?- I mean, only if-if you're not tired... but also if uhm- if you would like to. But, it's fine if you won't." Gazing back at her face, I reached my hand to caress the side of her face on the skin that I could reach for a few second, calming her down.

"We could do that, I'll cut more fruit for you for snack. I don't think Maria got us some popcorn." Before turning away, I catched how she perked up, making me smile unconsciously as my heart seemed to jump, which I ignored.

"That's awesome, Natty!" She said in delight. "I would really love that."

I have felt that killing people who deserved it is fulfilling. Watching companies and people burn down as they tried to pick up a fight with me brings the spark of happiness and contentment to my insides.

And, I never knew there will be much more greater things than that.

Now, I found out, only a voice is enough to explode such a thing inside me.

Enough to make me feel as if I'm on top of the world.

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Author's Note: Ahhhh, finally! I apologize for making you all wait, I did see the multiples of asks that have been sent to me, I didn't have enough energy to answer them, I'm really sorry. I was sick for days, but I'm doing a lot better now! I also got the next chapter on the works already, and I'm sorry in advance for it 乁⁠༼⁠☯⁠‿⁠☯⁠✿⁠༽⁠ㄏ

[sturn777]

there's a new neighbor in town . | ( female reader ) wc 1.5k + ( masterlist ) II next ▷ ↺

YOU WERE USED TO ALWAYS PLAYING the perfect, prim little girl with a spoiled attitude and a fake smile. your dad’s a ceo, and that means you’re expected to always look put together, even if it means dealing with things you absolutely don’t care about.

like delivering a tray of homemade cookies to the new neighbor.

it’s not that you care about the new neighbor. it’s not even that you really care about your dad’s request. you don’t. you’re doing it for the sole purpose of proving to your parents that you've matured now, and are able to fulfill their requests. so, cookie tray in hand, you march over to the sturniolo’s doorstep, making sure to flash the biggest, fakest smile you can muster.

you knock on the door, adjusting your hair one last time. when the door swings open, you are greeted by the sight of him.

chris sturniolo. pretty tall, with a smirk that says he knows exactly what you're thinking. his light blue eyes take in your presence, but he doesn’t look all that impressed, like he’s already used to people acting like this around him.

"hi, sir! welcome to the neighborhood!" you say, your tone dripping with sweetness, but the fake smile you wear says otherwise.

he raises an eyebrow at you, his lips curving into that cocky smirk again. he's probably laughing at you in his head, but you don’t care.

"sir?" he says, his voice low, amused. "really?"

you blink, the fake smile wavering for a moment as you glance up at him. "well … i mean, you look older than me," you say, trying to save face. you can’t tell if he’s a few years older or just the same age, but it doesn’t matter. you just want to get this over with.

chris chuckles softly, leaning against the doorframe.

you roll your eyes internally, irritated but trying not to show it. "i brought cookies," you say, holding up the tray with exaggerated grace. "just, you know, to make you feel welcomed."

"how thoughtful," chris replies, his voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. "why don’t you come inside and make yourself comfortable, doll?"

your heart skips a beat at the nickname, but you keep your cool. “thanks, but no thanks. i've got things to do.” you say, ready to leave. but the way his eyes seem to twinkle with mischief makes you hesitate for a second longer.

“c'mon, it's the least i can do, y'know, returning the favor and all.” he continued, tilting his head softly. “just, come inside and get a drink.”

you sighed, handing him the tray of cookies as you stepped inside carefully. “oh, well, thanks.” you muttered, silently cursing at yourself for taking on your parents' wish in the first place.

“don't mind the mess, sweetheart. had a, uhh, guest over.” his voice mused from behind, closing the door and walking to place the tray on the countertop.

guest, my ass. you could smell the faint lingering women's perfume as you looked around the spacious living area, marble floors and high walls. nothing out of the ordinary.

you glanced around, seeing a pair of black panties tucked underneath the couch, eyebrows furrowing softly as you turned back to look at him. chris appeared to be rummaging through the kitchen cabinets in search for something, probably glasses. “no maids yet?” you inquired.

chris turned at the sound of your voice, a smirk already playing on his lips before he even registered what you were asking. he leaned casually against the counter, a glass dangling from his fingers, his relaxed demeanor as infuriating as ever.

“nope,” he replied smoothly, his voice carrying that teasing edge you’d come to associate with him. “why? you offering to help out?”

your eyebrows raised at his audacity, lips twitching into a sharp smile. “not a chance,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “just seems like a guy would’ve hired someone by now. you know, to deal with… things lying around.”

you tilted your head ever so slightly toward the couch, your tone dripping with fake politeness.

his gaze followed yours, his smirk widening when he spotted the black panties half-hidden under the couch. he didn’t even flinch, his confidence unshakable. “ah,” he said, dragging out the syllable like he was amused. “didn’t think you’d be so interested in my... décor.”

“interested?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “hardly. just don’t want to sit down and find someone’s—”

“relax, doll,” chris interrupted, stepping closer, two glasses of lemonade in his hands. “you’re the only one i’d ever let touch that couch.” your breath hitched at the sudden shift in his tone, his words smooth and low, laced with something that sent a shiver down your spine.

"here you go," he muttered casually, handing you the drink with an ease that seemed second nature, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment. the contact was fleeting, but enough to make you glance up at him, studying his unreadable expression as he took a sip of his own drink.

chris’s gaze wandered across the room, his sharp eyes flicking over the spacious mansion like he was inspecting it for the first time. the pristine white walls, the expensive art pieces, the sleek, modern furniture, it all screamed wealth, power, and a life that didn’t need anyone else.

“nice place,” you said after a beat, your voice light, trying to break the heavy silence that had settled between you. he huffed out a small laugh, low and almost cynical. “you think?” he asked, not looking at you, his tone casual.

“most people would kill for a house like this,” you said, gesturing around with your glass. “yeah,” he said, finally turning to meet your eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips. “but it doesn’t feel like home, does it?”

you paused, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone, the vulnerability that lingered beneath the surface of his cocky exterior. “no maids, no warmth, and apparently no decorum,” you quipped, nodding toward the couch.

his smirk deepened, the momentary crack in his façade gone as quickly as it appeared. “what can i say? i keep it real.”

“real messy,” you shot back, taking a sip of your drink. “messy’s not always a bad thing,” he said, leaning against the counter, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip.

you didn’t know whether to roll your eyes or blush under his gaze. instead, you took another sip of your drink, your pulse quickening as his smirk widened, like he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

"anyways," he muttered, his voice casual as he took another sip of his drink, "’m gonna hire some help soon. just haven’t had the time, yet."

your brows raised at his nonchalant tone. “oh, right,” you teased, setting your glass down on the counter. “must be exhausting having all this… space to yourself. can’t imagine how you cope.”

he smirked, leaning a hip against the counter as his eyes lazily trailed over you. “you’d be surprised,” he replied, his voice low, laced with a subtle challenge. “but you’re welcome to stick around if you’re so concerned. lend a hand.”

“concerned?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “i’m not concerned. just trying to figure out how someone with all this doesn’t even have the basics figured out.”

he chuckled, the sound deep and warm, as though he found your attitude amusing. “basics aren’t my style,” he said, his smirk widening. “i like to keep thing spontaneous.”

“right,” you deadpanned, though the way his gaze lingered on you made it hard to keep your composure. “because leaving underwear under the couch screams ‘spontaneous.’”

he tilted his head softly. “depends on whose it is.” you rolled your eyes, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed your cool demeanor. “you’re impossible.”

“nah,” he said, setting his glass down beside yours and stepping just a little closer, his presence overwhelming in the best and worst ways. “i’m just honest.”

"how old were you, again, doll?" chris asked, his tone as casual as if he were asking about the weather.

"nineteen," you replied, watching his reaction closely. "ah," he muttered, nodding softly, his gaze briefly flitting to his watch. "’m twenty-one."

he shifted his weight, scanning the room before looking back at his watch again, his expression suddenly changing. “shit, ’m sorry. gonna have to finish this great conversation another time, got a meeting right now.”

“yeah, no worries. thanks…” you muttered, forcing politeness into your tone even though irritation simmered beneath it.

“don’t mention it,” he mumbled carelessly, not sparing you a second glance as he quickly moved to the counter, placing his glass down with a clink before heading toward the stairs.

"don’t forget to close the door on your way out," he called over his shoulder, disappearing upstairs without so much as a backward glance.

you stood there for a moment, staring at the now-empty staircase, your fake smile dropping as annoyance bubbled to the surface. grabbing your things, you made your way to the door, letting it click shut with more force than necessary.

"what an ass," you muttered under your breath as you walked away, already plotting what to do the next time you saw him.

© STURN777 all rights reserved .

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divider : @issysh3ll

[bamgyuuuri]

⤷ this side of paradise ┈ cbg.

sypnosis. choi beomgyu had every quality you hated—loud, obnoxious, and endlessly infuriating. this school trip was supposed to be your chance to escape him, but your hopes were crushed when you found out you’d be sharing a room. however, the more you spent time with him alone, the more you began to see a side of him you never expected—one that made you question everything you thought you knew about him.

pairings and tags. classmate!choi beomgyu x reader (f/m) . enemies to lovers . slowburn . so much tension !!! teasing . mutual pining . fluff . forced proximity . fleeting glances . grumpy x sunshine if you squint . angry confession . incredibly cliche at times hehe

word count. 10.6k

short note … i rly liked how this one turned out too ngl,, an immediate favorite as well !!!! especially since personality wise, i relate to beomgyu a lot ^_^ ik it’s pretty lengthy but i hope u guys like it nonetheless !! do tell me ur thoughts <33

if there was one person in the entire school who could single-handedly ruin your day without even trying, it was choi beomgyu.

he wasn’t just a thorn in your side; he was the entire rose bush, complete with sharp thorns, swarming bugs, and pollen that made you sneeze. beomgyu was the human equivalent of nails on a chalkboard, an untimely alarm clock, or a fly buzzing around your head when you were trying to focus.

he had this uncanny ability to be everywhere all at once, like a human embodiment of murphy’s law. quietly reading in the library? he’d show up out of nowhere, leaning over your shoulder and reading the words out loud in a ridiculous voice, making sure to butcher every single one.

if you were trying to focus in class, he’d find some way to get your attention, tapping your shoulder incessantly, passing you notes with doodles of your face and exaggerated scowls, or “accidentally” kicking your chair leg just hard enough to jolt you.

and if you dared to ignore him? he’d double down, whispering your name repeatedly until you snapped and glared at him, only for him to flash that infuriating grin.

it wasn’t just his actions, either. it was his entire existence. the way his laughter was always a decibel too loud, drawing attention wherever he went. the way he seemed to have an endless supply of energy, bouncing between conversations and cracking jokes that were somehow always at your expense.

“say, do you ever smile? or is the grumpy face just part of your brand now?” he’d say with mock concern, tilting his head like some concerned friend while you resisted the urge to smack that smug expression off his face.

yet, somehow, for reasons you hated yourself for, he was annoyingly attractive. it wasn’t fair. how could someone so insufferable look like he’d just walked out of a magazine?

his hair always had that perfect, slightly tousled look, as if he’d spent hours on it when you knew he probably just rolled out of bed. his eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint that promised trouble, and his stupid, lopsided grin had a way of making your stomach flutter despite your better judgment.

but none of that mattered, because his personality was insufferable enough to cancel out any appeal he might have had. and oh, how you despised him for it. you despised the way he always seemed to know exactly how to push your buttons, how he lived to tease you, and how he always left you simmering in frustration while he walked away, laughing like it was all just a game to him.

choi beomgyu was, without question, the absolute worst person you’d ever met, and you were determined to keep as much distance between you and him as possible during this school trip.

you walked into the room with a spring in your step, already fantasizing about two days of peaceful solitude. no obnoxious laughter, no teasing remarks, no beomgyu. for once, the universe had done something right.

that peace, however, lasted all of three seconds. your smile vanished the instant you spotted him. beomgyu. in your room. unpacking his duffle bag like he belonged there.

you froze in the doorway, disbelief hitting you like a slap to the face. this had to be a mistake, right?

“what the hell are you doing here?” you demanded, narrowing your eyes at his hunched form.

beomgyu didn’t even look up. “unpacking,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“no, no, no.” you stepped into the room, pointing an accusing finger at him. “you’re in the wrong room. there’s no way we’re roommates. you must’ve walked into the wrong room. you’re stupid like that, after all.”

he turned his head to give you an amused look. “nice try, but i’m not wrong this time.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “prove it.”

with a sigh, beomgyu fished his keys out of his pocket, holding it up as if it were the holy grail. “room 313. same as the one on your key, right?”

your stomach dropped, and you reluctantly pulled your own keycard out to confirm. room 313. damn it. “this has to be some sick joke,” you muttered under your breath.

beomgyu smirked, leaning casually against the bedframe. “aw, don’t look so heartbroken. i’m flattered you care so much about where i sleep.”

you groaned, throwing your bag onto the bed with more force than necessary. “why you, of all people? this trip was supposed to be my escape, and now i’m stuck with you.”

“relax,” he drawled, stretching his arms behind his head. “i’m not that bad. i’ll even let you take the bed closer to the window. generous, right?”

you glared at him, too annoyed to appreciate the so-called ‘gesture.’ “oh, how kind of you, your highness. truly, i’m honored,” you retorted, voice laced with sarcasm.

beomgyu laughed, the sound grating on your already-frayed nerves. “you’re awfully cute when you’re sarcastic.”

“don’t call me cute,” you snapped, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“okay, grumpy,” he shot back with a wink.

you clenched your fists at the nickname, one he liked to use on you, muttering (loudly) as you stomped over to your bed. “this is my nightmare. why couldn’t i have been paired with literally anyone else? even that kid who collects bugs would’ve been better than this.”

but to your surprise, there was no snarky retort. no obnoxious laugh or teasing remark. not even a single snarky retort, or any witty one-liner.

beomgyu had simply gone … quiet.

you frowned, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. he was sitting on his bed, unpacking his things methodically, almost… calmly.

it was suspicious. he was suspicious.

for a moment, you were tempted to ask if something was wrong, but no, this was beomgyu—he was probably just lulling you into a false sense of security so he could spring some ridiculous prank later.

deciding not to risk it, you kept your mouth shut and started unpacking your own things. still, the silence between you two felt unnatural. it hung heavy in the room, and despite your better judgment, you found yourself sneaking another glance at him.

he looked… normal. no devilish smirk, no gleam of mischief in his eyes. just beomgyu, quietly organizing his stuff like any other person.

weird. really weird. and unsettlingly… not unpleasant.

⁺ ༄ ༝ ₊

as soon as the class regrouped in the common area later that day, you were reminded of exactly why choi beomgyu was public enemy number one in your book.

“i told you, taehyun, there’s no way you can out-eat me,” beomgyu crowed, arms flailing animatedly as he reenacted some ridiculous lunchtime escapade. his voice carried above the chatter of your classmates, loud enough that everyone turned their heads to either laugh along or roll their eyes.

you snickered under your breath, shaking your head. of course, the subdued version of beomgyu you’d seen in the room was just a temporary glitch in the system. he was back in full force now, throwing exaggerated gestures and laughing so hard he almost toppled over.

“i knew it,” you muttered to yourself, crossing your arms. “as if he’d ever stay quiet for long.”

“knew what?” one of your friends asked, nudging you.

“oh, nothing,” you replied, still eyeing beomgyu’s theatrics. “just that a tiger can’t change its stripes.”

but any smug satisfaction you felt was short-lived.

“you’ll be paired with the person whose name is written on the card you pull,” the teacher explained, holding out a basket of folded slips.

as luck would have it (or misfortune, rather), the name on your card was the one person you’d been hoping to avoid.

“choi beomgyu,” you read aloud, your voice flat with resignation.

“ah, lucky you!” beomgyu grinned, leaning toward you with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. “guess you got the best partner, huh?”

“more like the worst,” you muttered, earning a mock gasp of offense from him.

to make matters worst, the two of you were sent off into a different section of the campground, far enough away that the sounds of your classmates faded into the background. it was a simple task—gather specific items from the forest for a scavenger hunt.

at first, you braced yourself for the usual barrage of beomgyu’s teasing remarks and incessant chatter, but as you walked along the winding trail, something strange happened.

he was quiet.

too quiet.

you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. his head was down, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets as he kicked at the dirt path absentmindedly. the beomgyu who had been commanding the group’s attention just minutes ago now looked… thoughtful.

“what, did you finally run out of things to say?” you quipped, your voice tinged with sarcasm.

he glanced at you, the corner of his mouth tugging into a small smile. “nah, just… thinking.”

you raised an eyebrow. “you? thinking? must be serious.”

“ha-ha,” he deadpanned, but there was no bite to his tone. unusually so.

the silence that followed stretched on, long and unbroken, like a thread unraveling endlessly between the two of you. the gentle rustle of leaves underfoot filled the space where beomgyu’s usual chatter should’ve been. it was almost disorienting—this odd, fragile quiet.

you bent down to pick up a small, flat stone from the ground, turning it over in your hand. it was smooth and cool to the touch, one of the items on your scavenger list. “this should work,” you murmured, not expecting an answer.

“nice find,” came beomgyu’s voice, soft and low.

your head snapped up, eyes narrowing at him in surprise. there was no sarcasm in his tone, no teasing glint in his eye. just a genuine acknowledgment, plain and unadorned. it threw you off more than you cared to admit.

“oh, uh… thanks,” you said, fumbling over the word like it was foreign.

he offered a small smile—an actual smile, not the cocky, lopsided grin he usually wore—and it made your chest tighten for reasons you didn’t want to dwell on.

as the two of you continued down the path, the quiet didn’t dissipate. instead, it grew heavier, more tangible, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it wasn’t tense, either. it was something else entirely, something softer and… stranger.

you found yourself stealing glances at him, unable to help it. there was something almost… calming about the way he moved. his usual energy—the constant bouncing steps, the exaggerated gestures—was gone. instead, his pace was measured, his gaze sweeping the forest floor with a calm focus. it was unsettling. but more so confusing.

you crouched down again, this time picking up a pine cone half-buried in the dirt. brushing it off, you tucked it into your bag before standing again.

“so,” you began, trying to sound casual, “are you… okay…? did you hit your head before we went out or something?”

beomgyu glanced at you, and for a moment, you thought you saw the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “i’m fine. why?”

you gestured vaguely toward him. “you’re… quiet. really quiet. it’s weird.”

he raised an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “weird, huh?”

“yeah,” you said, crossing your arms as you started walking again. “what, did someone finally tell you to shut up and you actually listened?”

he chuckled under his breath—quietly, not the loud, boisterous laugh you were used to. it was a softer sound, almost… warm.

and then he didn’t say anything else. he didn’t rise to your bait, didn’t fire back with one of his usual snarky comebacks. instead, he just kept walking, the faint smile lingering on his face as his eyes swept the path ahead.

the longer the silence stretched, the more it started to unnerve you. this… wasn’t the beomgyu you knew. the beomgyu you knew would’ve already made three jokes at your expense and found some way to drive you to the brink of exasperation. this version of him—quiet, calm, almost thoughtful—was an entirely different person.

and the strangest part? you didn’t hate it.

in fact, you found yourself relaxing in his presence, your usual wariness slipping away without you realizing it. without the relentless teasing and constant chatter, it was almost… peaceful.

but the question lingered, gnawing at the edges of your mind. why was he like this now? where was the loud, insufferable boy who had been the center of attention just an hour ago in the canteen? why did he only act like this when it was just the two of you?

the thought made your stomach twist, and you found yourself glancing at him again, searching for some kind of answer in his expression. but beomgyu’s face was unreadable, his focus entirely on the trail ahead.

when you reached a small clearing, he paused, crouching down to inspect a patch of moss. “think this counts as ‘soft greenery’?” he asked, holding it up for you to see.

you blinked, startled by the sudden question. “uh… yeah, probably.”

“cool,” he said simply, tucking the moss into his bag.

and just like that, the silence resumed, wrapping around you both like a thick, heavy blanket. but this time, you couldn’t shake the strange, nagging warmth blooming in your chest.

it wasn’t fair. choi beomgyu wasn’t supposed to make you feel anything except irritation. and yet, here he was—quiet, calm, and somehow disarming you without even trying.

not too long after, you both finally found every item required on the list. with your bag heavier and your mind filled with unanswered questions, you followed beomgyu back toward the meeting point where the rest of the class had gathered. there was an odd weight to your steps, a strange feeling tugging at you—a weird, quiet disappointment that you couldn’t quite shake.

you glanced over at beomgyu as the two of you walked in silence. he carried his bag slung casually over one shoulder, his expression as neutral and calm as it had been the entire time.

when you reached the clearing where everyone was waiting, the energy of the group hit you like a wave; loud voices, laughter, and the chaos of friends recounting their scavenger adventures. you barely had time to process it all when the instructor called everyone’s attention to announce the winners.

and much to you and everyone else’s surprise, the instructor called you and beomgyu out.

your head whipped around to look at beomgyu in disbelief. he was already smirking, the corners of his mouth lifting in that infuriatingly familiar way.

“well, look at that,” he said, his voice now laced with amusement. “teamwork makes the dream work, huh?”

you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your cheeks heated under his gaze. “don’t get used to it. this was pure luck.”

he laughed—loud and full, the sound cutting through the noise around you. and just like that, the calm, subdued version of him from earlier was gone, replaced by the beomgyu you knew all too well.

you groaned, stepping away as his friends swarmed him with congratulations and playful jabs. as much as you wanted to revel in the small victory, the shift in his demeanor made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t fully understand.

you lingered at the edge of the group, watching as beomgyu fell seamlessly back into his usual role—loud, boisterous, and always at the center of attention. the difference was jarring, like a switch had flipped the moment he rejoined the crowd.

and it felt… weird.

you couldn’t stop thinking about how different he’d been when it was just the two of you. the calm, quiet side of him wasn’t something you’d ever seen before. it was like a secret he’d accidentally let you glimpse, only to tuck it away the moment you weren’t alone anymore.

why was he only ever like that around you? did he hate being around you so much that he didn’t even want to bother teasing you anymore? the thought made your stomach twist unpleasantly.

but then, why did that calm side of him… comfort you? why did it unnerve you in equal measure?

you didn’t get it. none of it made sense.

as the group began to disperse for the next activity, you felt someone nudge your shoulder. you turned to find one of your friends grinning at you.

“so, what’s the deal with you and beomgyu? you guys actually worked together without killing each other?”

“barely,” you said with a huff, trying to mask the strange cocktail of emotions swirling in your chest. “he was… different.”

your friend raised an eyebrow. “different how?”

“nevermind,” you mumbled, brushing past them as you tried to shake the thoughts from your head.

but even as you joined your friends, laughing and chatting as though nothing was wrong, your gaze drifted back to beomgyu.

he caught your eye from across the clearing and smirked, giving you a two-fingered salute.

and somehow, that simple gesture sent a pang of frustration—and something else entirely—through you.

⁺ ༄ ༝ ₊

the day had been long and exhausting. after hours of team-building activities—most of which involved more yelling and chaos than actual teamwork—the announcement of some “healing time” around the campfire felt like a blessing.

everyone seemed to share the same sentiment, slumping into the circle of logs and folding chairs surrounding the crackling fire, their faces illuminated by its flickering glow.

the atmosphere was light and easy, the warm flames licking upward as students laughed, shared terrible ghost stories, and sang impromptu songs. the campfire’s golden light softened the world, turning the boisterous group into a cozy bubble of warmth and laughter.

you were starting to relax, when someone brought out a guitar, the sleek instrument glinting faintly in the firelight.

“anyone know how to play?” the instructor asked, looking around.

immediately, a group of boys started whispering and nudging one another, and before you could fully process it, one of beomgyu’s friends grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand into the air.

“beomgyu does!” the boy announced loudly, grinning like he’d just won a prize.

your head snapped to the side. beomgyu?

“what—hey, not funny, cut it out…” beomgyu groaned, tugging his hand back down and glaring at his friend.

the group erupted into laughter, some clapping and others urging him to go for it. you leaned forward slightly, intrigued despite yourself.

“come on, beomgyu,” the instructor then encouraged, smiling. “let’s hear it.”

beomgyu shifted uncomfortably, his expression torn between exasperation and embarrassment. “i’m not—ugh, fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair before finally standing up.

he stepped forward and took the guitar, visibly gulping as he adjusted it in his lap. the firelight cast shadows over his face, but you didn’t miss the way he glanced in your direction. it was quick, fleeting, and yet… intentional. like he wanted to see your reaction.

your heart gave an odd jolt. why did it feel like his eyes lingered just a second too long?

the circle grew quiet as beomgyu plucked at the strings, testing them. his fingers were steady, but you noticed the slight tension in his jaw as he took a deep breath. then, without preamble, he began to play.

the soft, melodic chords of “i will give you everything” by lee janghee floated into the night air, delicate and deliberate. beomgyu’s fingers moved fluidly over the strings, coaxing out a gentle rhythm that seemed to wrap around the campfire like a warm embrace.

and then, he started singing.

it began softly, his voice slipping into the quiet like a gentle breeze, carrying with it something raw and achingly beautiful. it was the kind of voice that could hush a crowded room, that could demand attention without ever raising its volume.

it was soothing, unassuming at first, and then it began to grow—layered with warmth, depth, and an unexpected vulnerability that felt almost tangible.

you blinked, your focus narrowing until it was as if there was only him, sitting there with the guitar balanced in his hands, his head tilted just slightly as he poured his soul into the music.

it wasn’t perfect, not in the technical sense. there were moments when his voice wavered, when the raw emotion seemed to outpace his control. but that only made it more captivating. it was authentic, so deeply, disarmingly honest that it felt like a secret he was sharing with everyone in the circle.

you sat frozen, the familiar ache of something unnameable stirring in your chest. the obnoxious boy who teased you relentlessly, who lived to push your buttons, was nowhere to be found once again.

and as the song reached its chorus, he glances up, and for a fleeting moment, his eyes found yours.

everything stopped.

it was as if the world itself held its breath. the fire crackled in the background, but its warmth faded in comparison to the intensity of his gaze. his eyes were tender, impossibly so, brimming with an emotion you couldn’t place.

there was no smirk, no teasing glint, no trace of the boy who drove you insane. just beomgyu, stripped of his bravado, looking at you as though you were the only person in the universe who mattered in that moment.

your breath caught, the air thick and heavy in your lungs. your heart thudded loudly in your chest, drowning out everything else. his gaze was so soft, so achingly gentle, it made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

you tore your gaze away, your cheeks burning, your heart pounding as if you’d been caught doing something forbidden. but even as you looked elsewhere—anywhere but at him—his voice pulled you back.

it was soothing in a way that made you feel too much, its warmth and depth settling into the spaces you didn’t know were empty. you felt vulnerable, exposed, as though he’d reached inside and found the parts of you you didn’t let anyone see.

when the final note rang out, the world rushed back in with a wave of cheers and applause. the spell broke, and beomgyu ducked his head, laughing shyly as he handed the guitar back to its owner.

“happy now?” he muttered to his friends as he sat back down, though his usual cocky tone was uncharacteristically absent.

as the circle erupted into noise and chatter once more, you stole a glance at him. beomgyu was laughing now, nudging his friends as they teased him about his unexpected talent. he was back to being himself—the loud, insufferable menace you’d grown used to.

you went back into conversation like everyone else, but your head felt disconnected from your body, your mind still stuck on that one glance.

those… eyes.

why did it feel like he was singing to you?

⁺ ༄ ༝ ₊

as everyone filtered back to their rooms, you felt a strange mix of relief and apprehension settle in your chest. the day had been exhausting, but not in the way you’d expected. it wasn’t the team-building activities or the endless socializing that left you drained—it was beomgyu.

the memories of him during the scavenger hunt, the haunting softness of his voice as he sang, and, most of all, that fleeting, heart-stopping moment when your eyes met across the campfire… they swirled in your mind like an endless storm.

you walked towards the door your room, your steps growing heavier with each one. and as if sensing your inner thoughts, your heart oddly skips a beat when you turned the corner and spotted beomgyu approaching from the other end of the hall.

sensing your presence, beomgyu’s gaze flicked up, meeting yours. for a split second, neither of you moved, caught in a strange limbo. the tension was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

you quickly averted your eyes, willing yourself to focus on something, anything else. fumbling with your keys, you muttered a curse under your breath as they slipped from your grasp and clattered to the floor.

“great,” you mumbled, squatting down to pick them up.

but before you could, beomgyu was already there, his hand reaching for the keys. your fingers brushed briefly, and you pulled back as if burned, the unexpected warmth of his skin lingering on yours.

“here,” he said quietly, holding the keys out to you. his voice was soft, almost tentative, your heart now pounding against your chest as if it was threatening to fall out.

“oh… thanks,” you murmured, your voice embarrassingly small as you took the keys from him.

before you could unlock the door yourself, he surprises you again. “let me,” he says just as softly, gently opening the door with his own keys. he slid the key into the lock and opened the door with an ease that felt far too intimate for such a mundane act.

you stepped inside first at his silent gesture, your mind racing.

the room was dimly lit, the faint glow of the bedside lamp casting warm shadows on the walls. you moved to your side of the room without a word, setting your bag down and busily pretending to organize your things. the silence stretched between you, heavy and awkward, broken only by the sound of beomgyu setting his own things aside.

you couldn’t stop thinking about how close he’d been, how soft his voice sounded, how his hand had felt against yours. you shook your head, trying to banish the thoughts, but they clung to you stubbornly.

finally, you decided to break the silence, if only to distract yourself. “you, uh… you sounded good earlier. during the song, i mean.”

the words came out more awkwardly than you intended, and you cringed inwardly. you couldn’t even dare to look at him.

beomgyu paused, the air between you tightening. “oh… thanks,” he said after a moment, his tone measured. “i didn’t think anyone would actually pay attention.”

you turned your head slightly, catching the faintest glimpse of him rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze fixed somewhere on the floor. he looked… shy.

you tilted your head, curiosity getting the better of you. “are you kidding? why not? you’re… good. amazing, even.”

his lips quirked into a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “maybe. but it’s not really my thing to show off like that.”

you raised an eyebrow, unable to resist a teasing jab. “that’s a first. i thought showing off was your whole personality.”

to your surprise, he chuckled, the sound low and genuine. “touché.”

you laughed softly, and for a moment, the tension eased, replaced by something gentler. something that made your chest feel a little too tight.

as silence crept back in, you found yourself stealing glances at him, the image of him at the campfire still vivid in your mind. his soft, tender gaze, the way his voice had drawn you in—it all felt too close, too raw.

and then there was this beomgyu, the quiet one sitting just across the room. the one who had gently handed you your keys, who opened the door for you, who seemed to peel back the layers of his loud, teasing persona when no one else was around.

why did he only act like this when it was just the two of you? and why did it make your heart ache in a way you didn’t understand?

⁺ ༄ ༝ ₊

the next day, everything seemed to buzz with activity. everyone was excited for the next round of team-building exercises, chatting and laughing as they gathered their things. but for you? the noise, the excitement, it all felt distant. your mind, it seemed, had other plans. it was stuck on one person—beomgyu.

you couldn’t stop thinking about him. and it wasn’t because of his usual loud antics, no, it was the strange shift in his behavior. the quiet side of him that had shown itself only around you, the one you couldn't quite understand. the one that had made your heart do this... odd thing you hated.

all day, your eyes kept drifting to him, following his movements closely, trying to figure out why he acted like an entirely different person when it was just the two of you. he wasn’t like this with anyone else—no, with everyone else, he was the cocky, annoying, loud mess that had driven you insane since the day you met him. but with you? he was soft, surprisingly calm, almost... shy? it made no sense.

you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the rest of the group moving on, the voices around you fading into the background. without realizing it, you had wandered off the trail, the trees around you growing denser as you turned in circles, trying to figure out where you were. you cursed under your breath, pulling out your phone—no signal, of course. and your battery was almost dead. fantastic.

you couldn’t stop pacing, frustration bubbling up in your chest as you tried to figure out which way to go. each step felt like you were sinking deeper into your own thoughts, but the world around you was becoming increasingly unfamiliar. everything felt... off. and that was when it happened.

you collided with something—someone—and before you could react, your feet slipped out from under you, sending you crashing into the ground.

as you stumbled and fell on your ass, a sharp wince escaped your lips. the grass was rough, and the fall left you a little more embarrassed than you'd care to admit. you groaned, sitting up and rubbing your backside, annoyed with yourself for losing focus like that.

but then, a soft voice broke through your frustration, pulling you from your misery.

"are you alright?"

you froze, and as your gaze lifted, you saw him—beomgyu. his bright and teasing demeanor you saw earlier replaced once more by something else entirely—something softer, almost concerned. he was standing there, looking down at you with an eyebrow slightly raised, as if waiting for an answer.

you blinked in surprise. "you? why are you... here?"

beomgyu took a few steps closer, kneeling down so that he was at eye level with you. his hands were still tucked in his jacket pockets, and there was a quiet warmth to his presence that you hadn’t expected. "i saw you wander off," he said casually, but his eyes didn’t match his laid-back tone. "thought i’d make sure you didn’t get too lost."

his words seemed so... genuine. and yet, you couldn’t shake the confusion that swirled in your mind. he saw you wander off? he was looking at you? following your every move just as you followed his? beomgyu was the last person you expected to show any sort of concern, let alone take the time to make sure you were okay.

"but how did you know?" you asked, still bewildered, glancing at him. "you’ve been with your friends the whole time, right? why would you leave them to—"

"i’m not glued to them," he interrupted quickly, his voice light but with a touch of something else—something uncharacteristically flustered yet calm both at the same time.

without explaining any further, beomgyu stood up first, taking out a hand from the pocket of his jacket before extending one towards you. his hand hovered in the air, palm up, an unspoken invitation that caught you off guard. his expression was soft, almost hesitant.

"come on," he said quietly, his voice low and steady. "we can’t look for the others with you on the ground like that, can we?"

you stared at his hand, your thoughts spinning. the way he looked at you, his eyes so steady and sincere, made your chest tighten in a way that was both unfamiliar and unsettling.

your fingers hovered over his for a moment, unsure if you should take the offer. was this really the same beomgyu who thrived on driving you up the wall? because right now, like yesterday, he felt like someone entirely different.

after a beat, you placed your hand in his. his grip was firm but not overpowering, his hand warm against yours. the touch sent a jolt through your system, a strange mixture of comfort and something far more disconcerting.

as he gently helped you to your feet, neither of you said a word. the world around you seemed to pause—the rustling leaves, the distant chirping of birds, even the whisper of the wind—it all faded into the background. the only thing you could focus on was the way his fingers curled just slightly around yours, like he was holding on for a second longer than necessary.

when you were fully upright, he let go, but the absence of his touch left your hand tingling, like it still remembered the warmth of his.

"you good?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

you nodded, avoiding his gaze as you dusted off your pants. but you could feel his eyes on you, as if he were checking to make sure you were really okay. the air between you felt charged, heavy with something you couldn’t quite name.

beomgyu took a step back, his hand now tucked back into his pocket, but the softness in his eyes hadn’t disappeared. "we’ll find the others soon. let’s just stick together, yeah?"

together. you swallowed hard, nodding again because words seemed impossible right now. something about the way he stood there, a mix of confidence and quiet sincerity, made your thoughts race.

as the two of you started walking, an odd silence stretched between you. it wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. it was charged with an unspoken tension, the kind that made you hyperaware of every step, every breath, every glance he threw your way.

you tried to focus on your surroundings, on finding your way back to the group, but your mind kept circling back to the moment that had happened only a few minutes ago—how his hand had felt around yours, how his voice had softened in a way that felt far too intimate for someone who was supposed to be your biggest annoyance.

and then there was the way he had looked at you. not with the playful mischief you were used to, but with something tender. gentle. like, for a moment, you weren’t just the person he liked to tease—you were something more.

it left you reeling, your heart pounding in your chest as the two of you walked side by side. you couldn’t quite bring yourself to look at him again, afraid of what you might see—or worse, what you might feel.

beomgyu, for his part, seemed calm, though you could swear he stole glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking. his usual cockiness had been stripped away, replaced by a quiet vulnerability that made you feel things you didn’t want to name.

what was happening? why was beomgyu, of all people, making your heart race like this? and why did his words, his touch, linger in your mind like a song you couldn’t forget?

you shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of it. this was beomgyu—irritating, obnoxious, infuriating beomgyu. and yet, as you walked through the forest together, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than you’d ever allowed yourself to see.

⁺ ༄ ༝ ₊

as you continued to trudge through the forest path, the shadows of the trees stretching long in the fading sunlight, you couldn’t help but sigh. your earlier irritation with yourself for wandering off had transformed into full-blown worry. 

what if you didn’t find the others? what if you got stuck out here, lost in the woods, forever? and worse—what if you had to spend your last moments with beomgyu of all people?

your thoughts spiraled, imagining every worst-case scenario, until a sudden pressure on your shoulder pulled you out of it.

"hey," beomgyu’s voice was calm, steady, as he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "we’ll find them. don’t worry."

the simple gesture, paired with his soft reassurance, made your heart do an annoyingly traitorous flip. gone was your panic—replaced by a wave of heat rushing to your face. of course, you weren’t worried anymore, you were now flustered.

you glanced at him, trying to gauge how he could be so calm in this situation. but instead of his usual teasing smirk or overconfident grin, he was looking at you with that same quiet sincerity he’d been using on you since the day before.

determined to shake off the growing tension between you, you cleared your throat and finally spoke. "so… why were you even around to see me wandering off in the first place? you’re not exactly known for being observant, you know."

beomgyu blinked, startled by your sudden question. then he narrowed his eyes playfully, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "well, excuse me for caring, i guess. i happened to notice you lagging behind, and since i’m such a kind, thoughtful person, i figured i’d check on you."

you snorted, crossing your arms. "oh, please. kind and thoughtful? you must’ve hit your head on a tree branch or something."

he rolled his eyes, but there was a faint flush creeping across his cheeks. "believe it or not, i’m capable of being nice."

"mhm, sure." you teased, narrowing your eyes at him. "so nice that you waited until i got lost before showing up. really great timing there, choi."

he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "wow, no gratitude whatsoever. next time, i’ll just let you wander into a bear’s den or something."

"oh, so now you’re a wildlife expert too?" you shot back, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

the banter came easily, easing the awkwardness that had been building between you. but beneath the light teasing, you couldn’t ignore the way your chest still felt tight, your heart still fluttering from his earlier gesture.

"seriously, though," you said after a pause, looking at him curiously. "why did you come after me? it’s not like you to… well, you know, care. for me.”

his steps faltered just slightly, but he recovered quickly, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. "i don’t know," he said, his voice quieter now. "i guess i just… noticed."

you blinked, caught off guard by the honesty in his tone. his gaze stayed forward, avoiding yours, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn there was something unspoken lingering in the air between you.

but then he cleared his throat and grinned, his usual confidence slipping back into place. "besides, someone has to make sure you don’t get eaten by a bear."

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the tiny smile that crept onto your face. "right, like you’d be so helpful in a bear attack."

"oh, i would be. they’ll just think i’m one of them," he says smugly, imitating a bear growling with hand gestures, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

as the two of you continued down the path, the unease from earlier began to fade, replaced by a strange, tentative comfort. maybe being stuck in the woods with beomgyu wasn’t the worst thing after all.

as the conversation flowed between you two, it was almost startling how natural it felt. gone was the sharp banter or pointed glares—replaced instead by an ease you hadn’t realized you could have with beomgyu. and for a moment, as ridiculous as it sounded, it felt like you’d been walking this path together for ages.

but then a chilly breeze swept through the trees, interrupting the moment and sending a shiver racing up your spine. instinctively, you crossed your arms and tucked your hands under them, trying to preserve whatever warmth you could.

“cold?” beomgyu’s voice broke the silence, soft but tinged with concern.

“no, i’m fine,” you said quickly, but the involuntary shudder that followed betrayed you.

he didn’t say anything at first. you glanced at him and saw his brows furrowed slightly, as though he were debating something. before you could question it, he shrugged off his jacket and held it out to you.

“here,” he said, his voice quieter now.

you blinked at him, caught off guard. “what? no, i can’t—what about you? won’t you freeze?”

he hesitated for only a second before shaking his head. “it’s fine. i don’t really feel the cold anyway,” he said, his tone casual, but the way he avoided your gaze told you otherwise. “just… take it. it’s no big deal.”

now it was your turn to hesitate, your fingers hovering over the jacket, but the way he stood there, holding it out so patiently, made it impossible to refuse. finally, you took it, slipping it on and immediately basking in the warmth it provided. it was oversized on you, the sleeves covering your hands, and it smelled faintly of something sweet and familiar—like peach and vanilla.

“thanks,” you mumbled, the heat creeping up your cheeks doing little to combat the chill.

“don’t mention it,” he replied, but you noticed the faint flush dusting his own cheeks as he quickly looked away.

still, you couldn’t help but frown slightly. “seriously, though... aren’t you going to get cold?”

he shook his head, his hands now stuffed into his pockets. “as long as you’re not cold, it’s fine.”

his words were simple, but they hit you harder than they should have. your heart skipped, the warmth of his jacket suddenly feeling like it had seeped into your chest.

neither of you spoke for a moment, the quiet stretching between you. it wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was something charged about it—like there was a question hanging in the air, waiting to be asked.

finally, unable to ignore the question that had been eating away at you, you blurted out, “why are you so quiet around me but not around anyone else?”

beomgyu froze mid-step, his gaze snapping to yours. his eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, you thought he might deflect the question, maybe throw out a teasing remark like he always did. but instead, he sighed, running a hand through his hair in that nervous way you were starting to recognize. when he finally looked at you, his expression wasn’t smug or playful, it was… vulnerable.

“do you really wanna know?” he asked softly, his voice barely audible above the rustling leaves.

your throat felt tight, but you nodded. “yeah. i do.”

he hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as though trying to steady himself. “it’s because you’re… different,” he said at last, his voice tentative, almost unsure.

you blinked, his words taking a moment to sink in. “different?” you echoed, your heart skipping a beat as you stared at him.

he nodded, still not looking at you. “yeah. with everyone else, it’s easy to be… loud, annoying, whatever. because, honestly? i don’t really care what they think. it doesn’t matter if I’m too much for them.”

his words made your chest tighten. “but with me…?” you prompted, your voice softer now, almost afraid to break the fragile moment hanging between you.

beomgyu finally met your gaze, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to find the courage to say whatever it was he wanted to. “with you, i.. i care about what you think, and… actually, i feel like this is who i really am,” he said quietly, his tone raw and uncertain.

your breath caught, and you tilted your head slightly, frowning. “really?” you asked, disbelief lacing your voice. “i don’t buy it. you’re saying the real you is quiet and… shy? come on.”

he let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “okay, maybe not completely,” he admitted, his lips twitching into the barest hint of a smile before it faded again. “but…”

“but…?” you pressed once more, your voice barely above a whisper now.

beomgyu’s cheeks flushed, and he looked away again, his fingers tugging at his sleeve nervously. “when I’m alone with you…” he began, his voice faltering. “i feel like i can be myself, but… i also feel like i need to be careful. like i can’t mess up. can’t mess… us up.”

your breath hitched. “us?” you repeated, the word hanging in the air between you.

beomgyu rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered now. he looked at you, his eyes filled with something so vulnerable and tender that it made your heart ache. “sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “i probably shouldn’t have said anything.”

but you shook your head quickly, your voice steadying. “no, i’m… glad you did.”

he blinked, caught off guard by your response, but the smallest smile tugged at the corner of his lips. and for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you no longer feeling heavy—but something closer to understanding.

before you could ask more about the “us” thing—what it meant, what he meant—the sound of your classmates’ voices suddenly echoed through the forest, distant but unmistakable.

the moment between you and beomgyu shattered in an instant, the bubble you’d unknowingly been wrapped in dissolving into nothing.

you both turned toward the noise, his expression shifting almost immediately. the soft vulnerability that had painted his features was replaced by something more guarded. it was like watching a door close, locking away everything you’d just seen.

“looks like we found them,” he murmured, his voice steady but quieter now.

you nodded, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “right… yay...” you say, trying to mask your true emotions, shrugging off the jacket as you gave it back to him.

as the two of you began walking toward the sound of your classmates, the tension from before had all but vanished, replaced by something unspoken yet undeniably heavy.

but deep down, you felt a pang of something you couldn’t quite name. disappointment? regret? whatever it was, it lingered like a weight in your chest, leaving you more unsettled than you cared to admit.

and as the laughter and chatter of your peers grew louder, you couldn’t help but wish, just for a moment, that you hadn’t found them at all.

⁺ ༄ ༝ ₊

once back with your original peers, the familiar buzz of conversation and laughter surrounded you, bringing a sense of normalcy. the comforting hum of routine should’ve helped ground you, but it didn’t. instead, your thoughts spiraled back to the forest; to the tender and rather intimate moments you shared with beomgyu.

his soft, almost hesitant touch when he helped you up, the uncharacteristic gentleness in his voice, the banter that felt more like a connection than an annoyance… and then there was his small confession, lingering in your mind like an unsolved puzzle.

“us.”

the word echoed in your mind, heavy with unanswered questions. what did he mean by “us”? why couldn’t you shake the look in his eyes when he said it, like it was a truth he wasn’t ready to face?

the day carried on as usual, but your focus was elsewhere. even surrounded by your friends, your gaze would drift toward him. 

and the strange thing was, you weren’t the only one.

more than once, you caught him looking at you. sometimes it was fleeting, his eyes darting away the second yours met his. other times, the moments stretched, and neither of you would look away fast enough.

each glance made your heart thud harder, the silence between those exchanges speaking louder than any words ever could.

as the sun dipped below the horizon and the camp settled down for the night, the realization hit you—you were going back to your room; the room you shared with beomgyu.

your heart rate flared at the thought, your nerves on edge. the memory of earlier replayed in your head—the quiet, the tension, the shared warmth of his jacket.

but this time, you decided you wouldn’t let it all end in ambiguity. no, you’d find out. find out what “us” meant.

as you trudged toward the room, the chill of the night air nipping at your skin, your thoughts raced. this was your last night here, your last night sharing the same cramped space with beomgyu. by tomorrow, this strange, unexpected closeness would most probably dissolve back into whatever it had been before this trip.

if you didn’t do something now—if you didn’t try to get the answers you needed—you might never see this side of him again.

the thought made your chest tighten. you couldn’t let this pass you by.

when you reached the door, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the knob. inside, beomgyu was already there, sitting cross-legged on his bed with his phone in hand. he glanced up when you entered, his expression unreadable.

“hey,” he murmured, his voice low, almost tentative.

“hey,” you replied, your throat tightening as you moved to sit on your bed. the space between you felt heavier than usual, the unspoken words hanging in the air like a fragile thread waiting to snap.

you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, your fingers trembling slightly as you tried to gather the right words. the room was quiet except for the faint rustle of leaves outside the window, the stillness amplifying the rapid thudding of your heart. your eyes flickered directly towards beomgyu, catching the subtle way his fingers fidgeted, the way his gaze occasionally darted toward you and then away again, as if he, too, was battling something unsaid.

finally, the weight of the silence became too much. “so…” your voice cracked, forcing you to clear your throat. “earlier. in the forest.”

his head lifted slightly, though his eyes didn’t quite meet yours. “yeah? what about it?”

you hesitated, your chest tightening as the memories of his words—the softness in his gaze, the tremble in his voice—played over in your mind. “you said something about… ‘us.’” you swallowed hard, the vulnerability in your tone almost too much for you to bear. “i want to understand. i want to know what that means.”

his entire body stilled, his fingers curling into his palms. the tension between you was almost suffocating now, the air thick with an unspoken weight that neither of you seemed ready to face.

he exhaled sharply, a nervous laugh slipping past his lips. “it’s not that big of a deal,” he muttered, his voice lacking conviction.

you couldn’t stand it anymore. the air between you both was thick, suffocating, and every time you tried to get close to the truth, beomgyu just pushed you away again, retreating into his shell. you felt like you were running in circles, chasing a truth that he wouldn’t give you. it was maddening, and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“beomgyu,” you said, your voice firm and filled with frustration as you stood up from your bed, making your way in front of his. “don’t do this. don’t keep brushing me off. you know this is a big deal, and you’re not going to get away with ignoring it!”

he flinched, his gaze quickly darting to the side, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. he was so close to losing control, and you weren’t going to let him hide anymore. you took another step forward, your pulse racing with every second that passed. you weren’t backing down.

“this is a huge deal,” you pressed, your voice rising with each word. “it’s killing me that you won’t just say it. say what it is, what’s been going on in your head, why you’re so quiet and distant around me so suddenly.” your breath was coming quicker now, your patience running thin. “i don’t care what you’re trying to hide, beomgyu. tell me.”

beomgyu was looking anywhere but at you. you could see how frustrated he was, his chest rising and falling with every breath, his fingers twitching like he wanted to run away. but you weren’t going to let him. you stepped closer again, your voice almost a growl. “seriously, just tell me!”

beomgyu’s frustration was starting to boil over, and the mask of cool indifference that he always wore was slipping, revealing the raw emotions beneath as he finally stands too. “you don’t get it, do you?” he spat, his voice low and trembling with barely contained anger. “i don’t know how to say it. i don’t know how to explain this. it’s so damn frustrating, and you make it even worse by pushing me!”

his words cut through you, and the intensity in his voice made your breath catch in your throat. for a moment, you thought he was going to explode, his emotions flooding out in a wave of pent-up frustration. but then, in the middle of all his tension, his eyes snapped to yours, and what you saw there shook you to your core.

“you think i don’t want to tell you?” he demanded, his voice shaking with a mix of anger and something much softer. “you think i don’t want to just come out and say it? i do, okay? but it’s not that simple. i can’t just… i can’t just tell you like it’s nothing! i… can’t do that. i can’t pretend it’s nothing, not when it’s you.”

his words were laced with a frustration that you didn’t fully understand, but it made your heart race even faster. “you’re so damn difficult, beomgyu,” you muttered, clenching your fists by your sides, “why can’t you just say it? what’s stopping you?”

his face flushed, and you could see his jaw tighten as he wrestled with his emotions. and then, finally, it all came crashing down.

he stepped forward so suddenly that you almost staggered back. his hands grabbed your arms, his grip tight and desperate, yet also gentle and tentative. his voice was a low growl, filled with raw, unfiltered emotion. 

“because, damn it, i can’t just tell you like it’s no big deal. it’s not just some stupid crush—i like you. a lot! and every time i try to act normal around you, it–it feels like i’m going to explode! i can’t just act like it’s nothing because it’s everything; when it’s just you and me, i.. i just can’t handle it. y-you make me so nervous, like i’m walking on a damn tightrope...”

oh.

oh.

you were caught off guard, completely speechless. the words hit you like a punch to the gut, and before you could even fully process what he’d said, he kept going, his grip on you tightening.

“i can’t stop thinking about you,” he spat, his eyes blazing with frustration. “when i’m around everyone else, it’s easy to hide; it’s easy to be loud and obnoxious because that’s the only way i don��t turn into a damn mess around you. but when it’s just us, i… can’t pretend. i can’t be that guy. i don’t know how to be. it’s why i followed you when you got lost in the forest—you make me care too much, so much, that it scares me.”

his voice cracked with the weight of the confession, and his words hung heavy in the air between you, charged with so much emotion that it was almost suffocating. for a long moment, neither of you spoke, just standing there, the tension between you so thick you could practically taste it.

finally, he let out a frustrated breath and pulled away from you, running a hand through his hair, his chest heaving with every breath. “i don’t know what to do with myself when i’m around you,” he muttered, more quietly this time, “i just… i want to be careful. i don’t want to mess things up. i don’t want to ruin whatever this is. teasing and annoying you was all i could do to get even an ounce of attention from you.”

you stared at him, your heart still racing as his words settled over you, and it was like everything that had been confusing and chaotic finally made sense. all of his teasing, all of the weird moments, the way he acted around you— it all came rushing together in one big, undeniable truth.

he likes you. beomgyu likes you.

and just like that, everything felt different. the tension that had been building between you finally snapped, and the weight that had been pressing on your chest seemed to ease, but the tension still lingered in the air.

“you’re… so frustrating, beomgyu,” you whispered, your voice trembling with exasperation and disbelief. 

beomgyu stood frozen for a moment, his expression shifting from confusion to a mix of guilt and frustration. his fingers twitched at his sides, but he didn’t make a move to speak, unsure how to navigate the tangled mess of emotions between you two.

“you seriously just… couldn’t say it, could you?” you continued, your voice rising in both exasperation and something deeper, something that made your heart race. “you had to play all these stupid games, mess with my head, act all ridiculous just for me to finally understand what you were trying to say.”

you could see the way beomgyu’s jaw clenched, his eyes flitting away, as if trying to escape the weight of your words. he ran a hand through his hair again, his lips pulling into a tight line, but still, he remained silent. in the face of your frustration, all he could do was look at you.

“but, you know what, beomgyu? you’re lucky,” you muttered, barely above a whisper, but the words hit harder than anything you had said before. “because, if i didn’t know any better, i… i’m pretty sure i like you too.”

beomgyu’s eyes snapped to yours immediately, his breath catching. his whole body froze in disbelief, and for a moment, the world seemed to come to a halt around you. his lips parted, but no words came out. instead, his hands fidgeted nervously, betraying how overwhelmed he was. his eyes darted between you and the floor, unsure of what to do with himself.

the silence stretched out between you, thick and heavy, making your heart race louder than ever. you could barely breathe as you waited for him to react, but it was your turn now. it had to be.

"you’re so damn frustrating," you murmured, shaking your head. you let out a shaky breath, your words tumbling out with an intensity that surprised even you. "how did we even get here? why couldn’t you just tell me? why do you always have to make everything so difficult?"

beomgyu’s face flushed, but he didn’t say anything. his eyes were still wide, and his body remained tense, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. you could see the vulnerability in him, raw and exposed, and it only made you more certain of what you needed to say.

"i don’t know why, but you—" you stopped yourself, your chest tightening with every word. "i don’t know why, but no matter how annoying you are, you still make my heart race like this. it’s ridiculous. you frustrate the hell out of me, you know that?" you laughed weakly, trying to hide the shake in your voice. "but even when you do, i just... i still can’t stop thinking about you. i still look forward to our stupid banter, even when i can barely stand it."

beomgyu’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and he took a step closer, as if drawn in by the force of your words. but you weren't done yet.

"and now... after all of this, after seeing the real you, the person behind the jokes, behind the teasing... it’s like i fell for you even more. it’s ridiculous." you let out a frustrated sigh, but your voice softened, almost tender as you looked up at him. "i hate how much i like you, beomgyu. i hate how you make everything so complicated, but i can’t help it. you’re just... you. and i like you. more than i ever realized."

there was a beat of silence, and it felt like your heart was about to burst from your chest. you finally let out a long breath, not noticing that you’d taken another step closer to him until you could feel the warmth of his presence, the heat radiating off him.

beomgyu’s gaze was still fixed on you, wide-eyed, processing everything you had just said. his lips parted, but this time, there were no words—just a shaky breath escaping him as if he was holding back a flood of emotions.

he opened his mouth again, but you reached up, placing a hand gently on his chest, stopping him before he could speak.

"let me just say this," you whispered, your voice steady now, but full of emotions you could no longer hold back. "i get it now. i get why you act like you do, why you tease me, why you hide behind your jokes. but i’m not afraid of it anymore. i’m not afraid of you." you paused, your heart pounding in your chest. "i just want you. all of you."

and in that moment, you saw it—the relief in his eyes, the vulnerability that softened his entire expression. it was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, as if everything was finally out in the open.

beomgyu took a shaky step forward, his hand reaching for yours, but this time, he didn’t pull back. he let his fingers brush against yours, just the smallest touch, but it spoke volumes. his gaze lingered on your face, searching for any hint of doubt, but all he found was the truth in your eyes.

"you really mean that?" he asked, his voice so quiet, yet full of wonder.

you smiled softly, your heart thumping louder in your chest. "yeah. i really do."

beomgyu’s lips parted once more, and for a moment, it seemed like he couldn’t find the words. but you didn’t need them. you both already understood. he stepped closer, closing the space between you two, and without a single word, he leaned down, his lips hovering just above yours.

the tension that had been building between you, from the teasing, the quiet moments, the stolen glances—all of it hung thick in the air. every single moment, every brush of skin, every unspoken thought, seemed to crash down in this instant. there was no more room for uncertainty, no more hesitation. only the rawness of everything you had felt up until now.

and then, without thinking, you both moved in simultaneously. his lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss, but it quickly deepened, the weight of everything between you pouring into it. the kiss was slow, yet filled with an urgency, a need to express everything you hadn’t said. the teasing, the frustration, the distance—all of it disappeared with each passing second.

his hands moved to cradle your face, his touch tender, as if he was afraid that even the smallest movement might break the spell. you responded in kind, your hands coming to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. it was as if all the moments you had shared—those fleeting touches, the playful banter, the shared silences—came together in this one kiss.

it was everything. everything you both had been holding back, everything you had been afraid to say, all flowing into this one moment. the kiss was filled with emotion, the kind of emotion that words could never fully capture. the laughter, the annoyance, the softness, the longing—everything.

you felt him deepen the kiss, his lips pressing against yours more firmly, and for the first time, you both gave in completely. there was no more acting, no more hiding behind jokes or walls. just beomgyu, just you. two hearts finally in sync, beating in time with each other.

when you finally pulled away, breathless, his forehead rested against yours, and you both stayed there for a moment, silently savoring the connection. the air was thick with emotion, and in that moment, nothing else seemed to matter.

and just like that, everything finally fell into place.

[strnilolover]

painter!matt and a reader,they were going together at the art school and classes but Matt became really good and the only time he had an inspiration to draw and paint was when he was with the reader. it was usually just the drawings of her and little sketches. she was suprised when she saw the room full of her portraits but then she became his muse 🙏🏽🤍

matt always said art was his outlet, a way to make sense of the world—something that brought him peace. he became really good overtime, surpassing you yourself. But the truth? he hadn’t felt inspired like his in years—until you had came along and showed your interest in him.

he didn’t mean to draw you at first. it just happened. a sketch on the corner of his notebook after you laughed at one of his stupid jokes, the curve of your smile taking shape beneath the lead of his pencil. a painting on an old canvas he’d abandoned months ago, your eyes somehow finding their way into every brushstroke.

before he knew it, his room became a gallery of you. charcoal sketches pinned to his wall, watercolors of your silhouette propped against the windowsill, oil paintings of your hands, your profile, the way you looked when the sunlight hit your hair just right. You were everywhere.

you’d never been in his room before—not having any reason to be. not until the day you wandered in, looking for him because you really needed his help on this project of yours. and you froze.

your eyes scanning the walls, seeing all these paintings and sketches of—you. you were taken aback, lips parting as you took in every single one.

“oh…” the word slipped out softly, and matt, who had been organizing his paints, quickly spun around—a panicked expression painted across his face.

“wait—i can explain,” he stammered, moving to block your view, but it was too late. your eyes had already scanned the walls, wide and stunned.

“matt…” your voice was quiet, reverent, as you stepped closer, fingers brushing over a sketch of you reading on the couch. “these are all… me?” you had never seen portraits so beautiful—and so, you.

he swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest. it felt as though his ribs might just break. “yeah,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “i didn’t mean for it to be weird or anything. i just… i don’t know. you’re the only thing that makes me want to create.” he muttered, face reddening as he spoke.

you turned to him, eyes soft, cheeks flushed. “i’m your muse?” you ask quietly, your mind still wrapping around this new found fact. matt chuckled nervously, his gaze dropping to the floor. “i guess you are.”

for a moment, you didn’t say anything. then you smiled, stepping closer until you were right in front of him. “i think that might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

he looked up, startled, only to find you grinning at him. matt realized his muse wasn’t just his inspiration—it was his reason— the reason as to why he still paints. why he enjoys it so much—because you’re someone he cares about. and now, you finally knew.

a/n : au pairing creds to @lockettesstage (go check her out cause her bunny!reader and fox!chris are my roman empire)

[caterkinnie]

I saw that your askbox was open. If i may, can you write a continuation of this ( Reader who cannot lie is put in an awkward situation...) with the rest of the dormleaders. It's so cute kasi eh. Also, can you include Rook, Sebek, and Jade in the place of Idia, Azul and Vil. Thx

Reader who cannot lie is put in an awkward situation...

❥ ⌗ Characters: Rook Hunt, Sebek Zigvolt, Jade Leech.

❥ ⌗ Tags: not really proofread. rook being silly. sebek being sebek. jade being cute<3

❥ ⌗ a/n: hiiiiii i started this blog when i was 15 and now im 18. crazy right???? happy new year!!!! sorry if its a bit awkward. its been a LONG time since I wrote for these characters.... tysm for your request!

Oh, it's Rook's fault this happened and he knows it.

You two were just having fun, he invited you to the forest just to walk around and relax. It was the sort of activity he'd love doing with you.

The two of you were completely alone, Rook loved to show you around his favorite hidden places, places that you imagine no one has seen before other than him….

And he was happy to do so, it was something you've done millions of times with him.

imagined he was hiding something, as his smile was a little bit too wide, his eyes were a little bit too mischievous. You knew when he was planning to mess up with you.

You were not expecting him to ask if you had a crush on anyone though.

“Eh?! What… Yes you do know him but…. ahh!! Yes, he's blond, why do you ask????”

He was giggling as he asked question after question…

What's his eye color? In what club is he? Is he from Pomefiore? How good is he as a hunter.

“Ah~ Mon cheri, don't get mad at me. I fear I know how you must be talking about… although, I imagine the feelings are reciprocated… Oh, such a beautiful expression you have!”

He has way too much fun with your quirk.

In this case, it wasn't directly to Sebek…

Lilia Vanrouge was extremely curious about you, as Sebek had never shown any interest in friendships with anyone. Let alone spending the amount of time he does with you, and even hesitating when he has to choose between aiding Malleus and having fun with you!

No one else had that effect on him, and you deep down knew it but… as a human, would he ever like you back? Would he feel ashamed to love you? Those questions plagued your mind, and stopped you from pursuing the kind hearted fae…

“What? If I like him…? ah… well… he's really sweet and- and…. Ah!!! Maybe a tiny bit but don't tell him!”

“AH?!?!?!”

And then you heard a loud scream of confusion from outside the door.

One you unfortunately recognized instantly.

Lilia chuckled as the door was bursted open, and Sebek was in front of you, his face was red… he wanted to say something… but something weird happened… He was at a loss for words!

You tried to explain yourself but…

“FOOLISH HUMAN! It's- it's bad manners to speak of someone behind their back! If….. If you wished to… If you wished to talk about those feelings, you must have told me directly, IF NOT THEN HOW COULD I PROPERLY COURT YOU?”

You were trying to impress Jade, but maybe you should have gone with a letter or some kind of book about fungi…

You've never cooked octopus before, and the cooking book wasn't helping at all either!

It seemed easy in theory… but you've tried it a million times and it still is not something you'd want to give to him!

He has really exquisite tastes! And if you mess it up maybe you'll mess this chance with him…

Or maybe you're overthinking.

Right as you were tried to finish the dish (which you were unsatisfied with the presentation and overall taste) you heard a chuckle from behind you.

“My, my… Are my eyes seeing this correctly? Who are you making this for?”

“...Of course it's for you.” No, dang it!

“And why, may I ask? what's the occasion?” His voice had a confused pitch, but his smirk gave it away. He was extremely amused by your attempts.

“....I though… maybe I could gift you this and then ask you out on a date….” No!! Why did you say that????

“...Fuhuhu… You're overcomplicating it… Maybe next time we can try to do it together? I can give you a few tips as well…. since it seems you've been trying for a few days, that is…”

He knew all of this time?!

Wait, is that a date?!

Reblogs are appreciated!

[unluckilyimnot]

Okay, but bonten with like a SUPER soft gf. Like, we talk like cry on every sad movie ivies with an animal to be specific). Takes things other says to heart. Often like cry over small things and stops to pet EVERY single animal she sees.

Feel free to ignore if you don’t feel like doing this one 😭 I know it’s lowkey weird.

Bonten with a soft gf!

Characters: rindou, ran, kaku, mikey, sanzu, kokonoi

fluff / no tw / wc: 900+

Note : no way it's so cute don't ever worry !! I love it, thank you sm ! I dispatched it between all the characters. I hope it's fine.

m.list | rules

Rindou never minded more than that the fact that you cry a lot. He loves it a lot and it makes him chuckle and laugh more than anything else. He's always there to wipe your tears away when you cry when the dog dies in the movies, or when you tear up at any inconveniences. You wear your heart on your sleeve, you're sensible, the opposite of him, and he cares and loves you for that.

Yet he's the first one to draw a radical line the second you get hurt, in any way, by someone. It's silly and fun until some abuse it and use it against you or to hurt you. He will find who did this, who made you cry and will burn their house down.

Sanzu sighs a lot when you decide something was wrong when he, in fact, didn't care. Yet his heart always skips a beat when he hears you speaking louder than you usually do, mad at people treating him poorly. He listens to you for a while before he finally steps in and holds your hands when he's feeling cheesy, or your elbows when he's a bit tired or high.

"Babe, it's really nothing. Don't worry yourself like that, you'll get wrinkles." He honestly makes you laugh every time, or at least confort you that he doesn't care about anyone's opinion besides yours. And oh how much you love and care for him everyday, he can't even doubt it. He wished you'd stop hurting yourself over things like this, but recognize that your sweet nature is definitely what he loves the most about you.

Ran laughs at you when you get offended for nothing. It can be about something going your way to work to you spiking your coffee on the counter. It's his own comic relief of the day when you're stroming around, a deep frown on your face making you look like a small, angry animal but still defenseless. His laughter always makes it worse, without mentioning his venom filled remarques, to make fun of your overreacting nature. To the point you can cry and not speak to him for hours – but for sure mentioning it all to Rindou.

Ran hates it when you team up with him, because you wouldn't talk to him but Rindou would, on the other hand, mention you and everything you told him to Ran. He's always making the first step to you and apologizing with probably a hundred wroth bouquet and your favorite snacks – promising you he'll never do it again, when he will most certainly do it again.

Seeing you enjoying small things about life is the reason why Mikey kept you around at first, you reminded him of his younger self and his friends at that time. Every time you stop to pet a stranger's dog, a small smile shows on his lips, one you rarely get to see even if you're always the reason for it.

You listen to him so carefully the few times he does talk to you, it makes him feel alive again. You're doing most of the talking and you're always so sorry to take this kich when that's what he loves about you. He makes sure to tell you that he likes it from time to time, just to be sure you won't stop. Your heart is so soft and warm, welcoming him every time you see him again with new facts you learn and an unconditional love that overflows everywhere, and he gets the chance to be showered with it every time.

Kokonoi gets used to you stopping all the time the second you catch the glimpse of a stay animal. So he instinctively adds ten minutes to every trip you two have to do, even if it's only to walk to his car because there's a few stray cats in the parking lot and he's sure you're gonna stop or even wait for them to walk out from their hide spot.

But he just can't bring himself to get impatient when your eyes light up at the sight of the small cats. The way you jolt in joy when their cold nose finally touches your hand, and you look up to him with the softest smile he ever had the chance to witness. Yes, you're usually late, but he just had to snap a picture of you with the white kitten and everyone is accepting the fact that those ten minutes of your happiness are worth the delayed meetings.

Kakucho's always there to rub your back when you cry in front of a movie. He never sees why you cry particularly, but always listen thoughtfully to what you have to say about it. He brings you tissues, sometimes even wipes your nose for you and lets you dive into his arms when a character you like dies. He can't help but tell himself how sensible you are every time, but also how he loves that. You bring him back to his human nature and what it is to be emphatic about normal things, far from his rough life where his life is at risk every time he steps outside the door.

To that, he hopes he'll never be the reason for your tears, and that he'll always be there to wipe them away and shush you down.

Sorry its rather short, tell me if you want a particular hc with one or a whole os.

Let me know if you liked it !

[lovemybluebully]

Was That A Snort?

Written specially for @whiskeyandcigarsmoke Thank you for supporting my writing! 😭 I always feel slightly awkward when anyone who is not in the t-community reads my stuff because most probably think I'm a fucking weirdo for centering all my fics around tickling, but I appreciate your open-mindedness and ability to see the cute aspect of it all. 🥰

Some snorty, ticklish Logan for your viewing pleasure!

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

Word Count: 6,504 (Sorry it came out kinda long. 😬)

Wade yawned as he wandered into the kitchen one morning in his bathrobe to put on a pot of coffee, cursing as he remembered on his way in that they had run out the day before. Much to his surprise the smell of fresh coffee hit his nostrils as he found that there was a pot already freshly brewed on the countertop.

An explanation of how that came to be was revealed when a rustle of paper to the side drew his attention as he turned to find Logan sitting at the small kitchen table and quietly reading the newspaper. He was already fully dressed and looked like he had been up for a while.

"Well someone's an early riser today. Thanks for handling the coffee situation," Wade toasted him with a mug he had grabbed from the shelf in one of the cupboards before filling it from the bubbling hot pot.

"Couldn't find any here this morning so I went to the store and picked some up. Grabbed some donuts while I was out too. Help yourself," Logan nodded to the pink carboard box on the table without even looking up from his paper.

"Yess! Did you happen to get any of the cream-filled ones?" Wade asked hopefully, sitting at the table next to him as Logan reached over and flipped the box open for him.

"Yeah, there should be a couple in there somewhere. Also got some of those ones with the kiddie cereal on top that I know ya like."

Wade squealed in excitement as he plucked a donut covered in Lucky Charms from the box, moaning over-excessively as he took a large bite.

"Mmmm! Oh God, mmm MM! That's a literal flavor-filled orgasm in my mouth. You're an absolute angel," Wade carried on as Logan huffed through his nose with a small smile.

"I don't appreciate the slander, Wilson. And I was kinda enjoying the peace and quiet so would ya mind keepin' it down a little?"

Wade nodded and replied between chews.

"Yup. I can do that. Mmm hmm. Not a peep from me. Won't even know I'm here," he then began loudly sucking the melted icing off of his fingers before looking up to find Logan giving him a hard stare, "I'm sorry, would you like some?"

Wade offered him his hand as Logan grimaced in disgust and leaned away from him, trying to get back to reading.

"All yours, bub. Couldn't pay me to suck on those fingers."

"Are you implying that I could pay you to suck on something else? Because if that's true then have I got the proposition for you," Wade suggestively spoke in a lower tone, pleased to see he'd managed to get under Logan's skin as he promptly threw down his newspaper with a groan

"Can't you ever just be fucking normal for one day?"

"Let me see.....uhhh nope. I'm afraid there's no changing me. And you, my friend, are lucky to have a front row seat to the amazing world of Wade," he placed a hand on Logan's knee and teasingly danced his fingers up his inner thigh before being slapped away.

"My eternal punishment you mean. If God himself were to take pity on me and strike me down today it still wouldn't have been soon enough," Logan shook his head as he folded up the newspaper to put aside while Wade narrowed his eyes in response to his last comment.

"Say sike right now," he pointed a demanding finger at the other man who only tilted his head in slight confusion.

"What's that mean?"

"It means take it back, you insolent pig!"

"What? Did I actually hit a nerve?" Logan smirked, taking a bite of the old-fashioned donut he'd just selected from the box.

"I'm gonna have to plead the fifth. That's gross by the way," Wade cringed a little at how Logan dunked his donut into his coffee before biting into it, "But in theory if I were to say that you did, would you apologize?"

"Not even on my theoretical death bed, dipshit," Logan flipped Wade his middle finger as he ate the last bite of his donut.

Wade knew he was just playing his game with him, but that didn't mean he couldn't consider options for reprisal.

"Always such a charmer. Well in that case how about if I make you take it back, stud?"

Logan scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Pffft, good one. How the fuck do ya think you're gonna do that?"

"I have my ways. I'm a highly trained mercenary you know and believe it or not I have a plethora of all kinds of torture methods stored inside my pea-sized brain," Wade smiled innocently as Logan just nodded, never one to take anything the man said completely serious.

"Sure, bub. I'm warning ya though, you give me another wet willy and I'm throwing your ass out that window over there," he gestured over his shoulder to the window on the far wall where a three-story drop would await the prankster.

"Dually noted. Do not worry your Canadian cojones about it though, I have no doubt the inspiration will come to me," Wade tapped the side of his head.

"Well don't exhaust your last brain cell tryin' to figure it out," Logan slapped him on the back as he got up from his chair and walked to the counter to refill his coffee, "I've got over 200 years of experience under my belt, and I've been conditioned to resist any kinda torture you can possibly think of."

"Anything, huh?" Wade pondered aloud, observing the man who had his back to him as he filled up his mug and fiddled with the sugar packets at the counter.

He knew Logan spoke with truth as the X-man became a storyteller when drunk and described many instances where he'd been made to suffer by enemies. Everything from as minor as being burnt with lit cigarettes all the way up to more grotesque things like being vivisected while fully conscious. Not to mention the excruciating adamantium process that he had barely survived.

Like Wade, Logan's pain threshold was off the charts and the man really could take a lot of physical abuse. Of course, Wade wasn't compelled to hurt him that badly, or even at all. He really only wanted to get a good response from him that would serve as lighthearted payback.

He just had the urge to put hands on him, though Logan had already warned him against the wet willies, and messing with his hair was also a call for trouble. He'd risk his prestigious reputation for being eccentric if he didn't think of something quick.

"Awful quiet back there, Wade. Shit, must be too late. Not one intelligible thought left in that head of yours, huh? Halle-fuckin'-lujah, I thought this day would never come."

He could practically hear the arrogant smirk on Logan's face and before Wade knew it, he was instinctively out of his seat and silently approaching behind Logan who was preoccupied with trying to clean up the sugar he'd spilled onto the counter space.

"Such a damn shame. Guess we won't be calling you 'The Merc With the Mouth' anymore. You can be the 'The Merc Who Finally Shut His Annoying Fucking-'.....!!!" His words were cut off by a gasp when he felt fingers digging into his ribcage from behind as his legs nearly buckled from the sensations. 

His arms snapped down against his sides while he writhed for a few seconds against the counter before an unfortunate laugh made it out from his lips. He immediately bit it back as he finally managed to turn around and shove the attacking merc several feet away.

Logan's brows drew together as he just gaped incredulously at his daring roommate.

"The fuck are you doing?!" 

Wade was grinning like a predator that had just cornered its prey; his mind racing in overdrive at having detected an actual weakness of the gruff Wolverine, who now had complete alarm plastered all over his face.

"Hmm, looks like I'm the one now who has struck a nerve. A ticklish nerve by the looks of it," Wade rubbed his hands together menacingly, growing more excited by the moment as Logan's eyes widened in unmitigated panic.

"What?! Tickling?! That's ridiculous! You just....surprised me is all!" He stammered out very unconvincingly while Wade delighted in watching him figuratively squirm.

"Funny, I've never seen literally anyone have that reaction to being surprised. But okay, let me try what I just did one more time except now you won't be surprised by it, right? Coming in hot...," Wade had his hands raised into clawed form with fingers wiggling as he started to lunge for the other man, but Logan instantly put his own hands up in defense to halt him.

"Alright Wade, alright. Fuck. You win. I'm a little ticklish. But Wade c'mon, this is asinine. I'm a grown man. You can't just fucking tickle me," Logan tried to reason with him even though he knew it was all for nothing, receiving that confirmation by the way that Wade laughed at him.

"Oh yes I fucking can. There's no age limit for tickling, even for a geezer like you. Besides if there was then people would grow out of it and stop being ticklish, but guess what? Most don't. Which means anyone who hasn't is still fair game, and that includes you, sugar tits. I'll leave it up to you though. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way," Wade began cracking his knuckles for effect as Logan desperately tried to figure a way out of this.

"I swear if you even lay a finger on me.....," Logan cautioned with a deep growl as he swelled up his oversized muscles, this attempt at intimidation normally succeeding in making any sane man back down. But unfortunately for him, Wade wasn't a sane man, along with the fact that Logan hadn't released his claws which Wade had learned to perceive as a full-on green light.

"Is that your way of saying you're picking the hard way? Because you know I'm quite partial to things being hard myse-AAaggh! You dirty skank!!" Wade yelped as Logan had thrown the hot coffee he'd been holding into the merc's face and roughly shoved past him.

Naturally Wade recovered quickly as he tore after his roommate, even more amped than before to make him pay.

"Awww come back Wolviiiiie! I just want to talk!"

"Just fuck off! If you even try, I'll cut your damn head off" Logan shouted in trepidation, picking up a crudely put together Ikea end table and launching it at Wade with the merc easily dodging it as it smashed against the wall.

"It will be all worth it, babygirl. I couldn't think of a more desirable death if I tried," Wade grinned and in his pursuit his robe had come undone, revealing that he was wearing nothing but his My Little Pony boxers underneath as Logan grimaced once he noticed.

"Are you kidding me?! Gross! Do not fuckin' come near me dressed like that! You hear me?!" Logan warned him, jumping over the couch to escape with Wade hot on his tail.

"What in the shit is going on out here?!" Althea yelled as she opened the bedroom door to walk out into the living room where the chaos was ongoing, "Stupid sons of bitches can't even let an old woman sleep-in just one motherfucking day?" 

As they ran past her, Wade tripped and fell to the floor before scrambling back to his feet to continue the chase.

"Sorry Al! But I've got me a Wolverine to tickle the crap out of!"

"I should've never given you caffeine and sugar this early in the morning!" Logan cursed as he circled back around, looking for cover and running to stand behind the smaller, elderly woman.

"Althea! Call him off!" He pleaded while he used her temporarily as a shield between him and Wade for a few short-lived moments before he had to abandon her and make another break for it.

"Wade Wilson you stop picking on that poor boy!" She yelled after them as Wade only scoffed in amusement.

"Ha! Boy?! He's more ancient than your old ass!"

Althea just sighed loudly with a shake of her head as she turned to start shuffling back into her room.

"Well....time to turn down the old hearing aids," she muttered as she fiddled with the devices in her ears, "You two assholes break anything else in this apartment and you're going to have to deal with me!"

Logan paused as he saw she was abandoning him to his fate with the ADHD-riddled man and called after her.

"AL WAIT!! Let me come with you!" But the door slammed shut behind her without another word.

Unfortunately, his lack of attention to his would-be assailant proved costly as Wade was now able to make his move and easily tackled Logan to the floor. He quickly mounted him to sit on his legs in order to keep them out of the way.

"For the record, you can cum with me anytime you want. But let's save the fantasies for later, you naughty boy. Now time to get to the point of why these readers are all here," Wade teased as Logan fought and pushed against him, trying to hold him back.

"Wade get the fuck off me! You're practically naked for fucks sake!" He grimaced when he felt something hard press against his leg, "GOD that had better be a gun in your underwear!"

Wade glanced down at his lack of attire, reaching casually inside his boxer shorts and pulling out one of his golden Desert Eagles.

"Of course it is, silly! Always gotta be prepared for anything, you know. Not particularly needed in this situation though," he tossed it over his shoulder as he continued to struggle with his friend, who grabbed a hold of his arms to keep him at bay.

"Dammit, Wade! This is-Grrrrr! Get your hands offa me!"

"But I haven't touched you yet. You're the one putting your hands on me. So if you insist on being accurate...," Wade slipped an arm free as his hand dove straight for Logan's side to begin viciously squeezing his lower ribs, making the man jerk under him as he ground his teeth together.

"Don't! Rrrrrrgh-Stop!"

"Don't stop, you say? I hadn't planned too, but glad we're on the same page here!"

Logan's grip started to weaken its hold on Wade's other arm with him now being able to easily pull free as his fingers buried themselves into the opposite side. Logan grunted and attempted to hold in all the sounds threatening to come out as he writhed and tried to push Wade off of him.

"I didn't mean thahat! Ahaha! Waitwait! D-Don't do this to mehehehee!"

He was quickly starting to lose the battle as the giggles began to overwhelm him and a wide smile stretched itself across his face. Wade could smell the blood in the water at this point and wasn't letting up for nothing, dying to see exactly how far he'd be able to run with this.

"How come? I'm gonna need a pretty good fucking reason. Is it because you're actually a lot more ticklish than you claimed? And if that's true then that means...," Wade gasped dramatically, "....you LIED to me?!" 

He roughly massaged his thumbs on the sensitive sides of his waist as Logan broke into convulsions and finally bellowed out in thunderous laughter.

"Hahahaha! No!! No no stahahahahaap! Thahahaat tickles!" His head thrashed around as he laughed and bucked in response to the merciless tickles vibrating into his sides. He futilely tried to curl up with his arms, but with Wade sitting on his legs it still left him plenty exposed.

"Duh! It's supposed to, genius! Besides you asked for this Mr. 'I-can-resist-any-torture-you-can-think-of'. Not so confident about that now, are you?" Wade grinned big time as his fingers worked their way back up his victim's ribs, making Logan's arms clamp down uselessly while his body jerked from side to side.

"It's cheheeheeheeatin'! Hehehehehaahaa! T-Ticklin' ain't fahahahaair, you ahahahasshole!"

He was slowly coming around since moving into the apartment, so it was still pretty rare to see Logan laugh this much, but Wade absolutely loved when he did. His whole reserved appearance, including his posture, completely transformed, and it was his entire face that lit up and displayed his smile.

Wade wasn't too keen to let that slip through his fingers any time soon.

"Meh, fair is subjective. Besides I was only like 33.726894% sure that this would even work on you. I've never been a gambling man, but I'm sure glad I took a chance on this because good Lord, you literally have the cutest laugh! Now perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me, where's your most ticklish spot?!"

Logan had not been tickled in a very, very long time and had completely forgotten what it had felt like. Actually, he had forgotten what a lot of non-violent physical contact felt like until he had met Wade Wilson, who was way more affectionate towards him than what he'd been used to over the past several years.

That uncertainty about what it felt like to be tickled initially had him concerned about Wade's prospective threat to do so, but at the present time he now realized that it wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be.

The heightened senses derived from his mutation had resulted in him being incredibly ticklish, and while he had thought it to be a nuisance in his earlier days, he was able to see the benefit of it helping to bond with those he had found himself close to. The other X-men in particular were big time offenders once they found out.

He was never one to laugh freely or even smile all that much, so his teammates were happy to find such a simple way to get that all out of him. And it always felt nice for the laughter to release some of the tension he carried around with him no matter how much he might resist it at first.

It had mainly been his sardonic attitude or defiance that would land him in trouble with the other X-men, and he remembered how he used to egg on and taunt whoever on his team got up the nerve to really tickle him like this.

Only after they were gone had he finally accepted the fact that the X-men were his family and the feelings from those happier times all started to come back to him now. Along with the guilt of having taken all of that for granted.

With Wade currently tickling him he found it was actually a comforting feeling to relive those fleeting moments that he'd had with his old team. And even though it was such a torturous assault on his hyper nerves it didn't really bother him as much as he might have tried to make it seem.

And he wasn't going to let Wade totally dominate the situation as he didn't hesitate to play the tenacious victim.

"Fuhuhuhuck yoooou! Gaahahahahaa! I-heeheehee-wohohon't talk!" Logan spewed out between cackles as a particularly sensitive spot was being probed on his upper ribs just below his armpits.

Wade reeled back a little, feeling more than surprised by his response. He'd thought by this point that Logan would be saying anything to get himself out of this, but it filled him with unrivaled glee to see that he was going to make this a lot more fun than he had originally thought.

"Woah, what the shit is this?! So the Wolverine isn't just going to roll over and take it? Whoooeee! I love it! So not gonna talk, are you? You know I was considering mercy a moment ago, but I don't think you really deserve it. Not to mention you said mean things to me and burnt my beautiful face with that coffee! My modeling career is over before it even started!"

"And-Ahahahand I'd doohooo it agahahahain, fuhuhucker!"

"Holy shit, you cocky little bitch. I guess you really don't want me to stop, huh?"

"I-I do! Hahaahaahaahah! Juhuhust fuhuhuhuck you is ahahahahall! Now gehehet offa meheheheeh!" He kicked his legs about restlessly underneath Wade as he tried to wriggle free.

"Hold your perfect titties there, mister. I still want to know where you're the most ticklish, for future reference. So where is it? Is it....HERE?" Wade stuffed his hands up into Logan's armpits where his fingers spidered around like crazy, making Logan throw his head back and let out a high-pitched squeal of a laugh.

"Aaaheeheeheehee! Th-thaahaat ain't ihihihit! Ohohohahahahahahaa! Buhuhut still...," he paused to wheeze for air, laughing in silence for a few moments while knocking his head back against the floor, "Geh-Gehehet the fuhuhuck outta thehehehere!"

Logan thrashed like a beached fish, trying to squeeze the tormenting fingers out from under his arms but Wade only burrowed in deeper to guarantee the torture would not relent.

"No can do, compadre! I'm gonna find your worst spot if I have to tickle you all day! Don't think that I won't!"

Knowing that really Wade could locate the hot spot at any given moment with how accessible it was Logan decided to swallow his pride and tried to bargain with him.

"If I t-tehehell you-aahahhaha wihihill ya stohahahahop?!"

He was optimistic, but Wade shut that shit down immediately.

"Um NO! Actually, FUCK NO! Once you tell me I'm going to tickle the absolute shit out of you there! So I'm letting you know right now that once I figure it out then you are in big trouble!" He emphasized his last word with a firm jab to Logan's stomach, eliciting a startled squeal from the man beneath him.

Wade instantly stopped tickling him as they locked in eye contact, watching as Logan's pupils quickly began to dilate in panic within his hazel eyes.

"You've got to be shitting me.....Is it really that obvious? You're telling me that this exquisite cobblestone pathway carved into your body is not only the sexiest, but it's also the most sensitive of all?" He smiled unnervingly as he very gently trailed his fingers down Logan's belly, making him twitch violently under him from that action alone.

"Eeheehee-Easy Wade.....Lets b-be reasonable here..."

Logan knew he had to act fast to get out of this. He could hold up against being tickled anywhere else, but an attack on his stomach pretty much guaranteed his downfall.

While Wade was momentarily distracted by the marvel of his discovery Logan took the opportunity to buck his hips as hard as he could to throw the mercenary off of him.

"HEY!" Wade hit the floor before immediately looking up to see Logan attempting to make his escape, "Oh no you don't, you sneaky bastard! I'm not through with you yet!"

Logan tried to scramble away on all fours to get some distance between him and Wade, but the other man was quick to grab his ankle as he dragged him back over with Logan shaking his head and pleading for lenience.

"No no no! For fucks sake! Wade please! Dohohon't you dare!" He was giggling already in anticipation as Wade pulled him close and then crawled on top to pin him again, grinning at the subdued state he was in.

Wade thought back to all the times he had fawned over his often-shirtless friend and made countless attempts to feel up his very pronounced abdominal muscles only to receive a harsh punch along with a threat to keep his hands to himself. But he now realized it wasn't because Logan was being stingy and not wanting to be touched in general, it was because he was trying to hide the fact that his stomach was so unbearably ticklish.

"I've never seen you so giggly like this Logan. It's positively adorable. But tell you what, I'll give you a chance to save yourself if you apologize for being such an ass to me this morning. And I want to hear some sincerity in there or else your tummy is going to get it," Wade waved his fingers in Logan's face as the feral nodded without hesitation.

"Okay okay fine, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I referred to you as an eternal punishment. And that I implied you had no rational thought whatsoever in your head."

"And.....?" Wade lightly rested his fingers onto Logan's stomach as a threat, pleased to see how it made him dissolve into giggles again.

"Aahaahaand I'm s-sorry I buhuhurned your face-Aaahee!" he yelped as the fingers dug in ever so slightly.

"My beautiful face!" Wade corrected with a smirk of victory.

"Okaahaay! Your beautiful faahaace with the coffeeheeheehee," Logan sputtered out the best that he could, grateful when Wade lifted his hand away from the hyper ticklish zone.

"Well thanks for that, pal. See? That wasn't so difficult, was it? I knew deep down you had a little humility in there," Wade tweaked his sideburn and tickled down his neck as Logan wiggled his head away from the touch before meeting his gaze with a defiant twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh yeah, one more thing I oughta mention. I'm also sorry that you are without a doubt, one hundred percent the most annoying, blabbering, dimwitted, lousy excuse for a comedian to ever exist. And I'm sorry I lied about being sorry for everything because the truth is I will never, ever be truly sorRYEEHeeHEeehEEhEE!!"

Logan had tried to prep himself but still couldn't stop from breaking into wild, squealing laughter once Wade's hands descended upon his stomach with lightning speed; his fingers scribbling like crazy all over the hidden muscles beneath his thin t-shirt. Wade just beamed down at him, not taking anything that was said to heart and so glad that Logan had given him the excuse to carry on.

"Whelp. I guess this is how it all ends for you. Tickled to death isn't exactly how most people would have expected the legendary Wolverine to go, but I'll make sure to sing the story of your menial demise," he wasn't holding back since Logan had practically asked for this as he mercilessly tickled the helplessly squirming man beneath him.

"Ihihihihit wahahas wo-wohohohorth ihihihit! Aaahahahafuhuhuhuhuck! Nohohot thehehere! Stahahahahahap-Snnnrk!" Logan's face was already bright red from his ears down to his neck as he laughed uncontrollably with that last sound that came out of him immediately catching Wade's attention.

"What in the-? What the fuck was that?" A quirky smile began to spread over Wade's face as he haphazardly dug his fingers into Logan's abs, eager to duplicate what had just occurred., "Was that a snort?"

Wade already had him in tears as Logan adamantly shook his head, instantly being disproven as another snort rang out of his scrunched-up nose.

"Snnrk! N-No! Yohohohou're hehehehehearin' thihihihings!"

Wade had heard Logan snort before. Many times, as a matter of fact, but he always thought it was something that Logan forced to emphasize his aversion to whatever Wade was currently talking about. Wade was positively enamored to know now that it was all just part of his genuine laugh.

"Are you sure about that? Are you sure you're not just a cute little giggly, snorty Wolverine? Because I think that's exactly what you are."

"Shuhuhut uhuhuhup! Ya-Snnnrk-dihihihick!" Logan felt his face flush even more with Wade teasing him in such a childish manner, too weakened by his laughter to be able to push the hyper man's hands away from his body.

As his fingers rippled into the solid tummy Wade grew more and more amused by this whole situation. He would have never been able to picture Logan in this helpless of a state if he hadn't seen it for himself and when you added in his constant snorting between his laughs it just pushed everything straight into a fantasy realm.

But it was all happening for real. And the more Logan snorted, the more Wade himself began to laugh.

"Wh-Whahat's the matter? Hehehe, the all-mighty anchor-being can be destrohohoyed by mere tickles? Oh, this universe is f-fuhuucked now," Wade giggled, trying to keep his focus and observing how Logan's t-shirt had slid up his stomach a bit. He pushed it up even further so now his hands were scratching at hairy, bare skin as Logan screamed and thrashed helplessly underneath him.

"Naaahahahahahaha! I-I nehehehever-Snnnrk-ahahahasked for-Snnrk-the johohohob! Snnnnrk!" Logan was losing control and unable to stop the snorting now as he would desperately try to get a breath in through his chaotic laughter.

"Are-Are yoohoou just gohohoing to keep doing thahaat?! Snorting lihihike a little pihihiggy?!" Wade was starting to lose it himself.

"Snnnrk! Kihihiss my ahaahaahaass-Snnnnrk!!"

"I'd love too-heeheeheh! Ohohor I could dohoo THIS!" Wade's hands slid down as he targeted the ever so tempting V-line muscles on the Wolverine's lower belly and once he dug into the highly ticklish flesh Logan just about lost his mind in hysterics.

"BAAHAHAHAHAHAHANOOONO! SNNNRK! OKAAHAAHAAY! YA WIHIHIHIN! AAAHAHAHAAH-SNNNNRK! MEHEHEHRCY! I'M-SNNRK-I'M SOHOHOHORRY!" Logan squealed and snorted as he regained a burst of energy and jolted around violently like he was being shocked with a cattle prod.

It had proven all too much for Wade to stay composed as he broke into uncontrollable laughter, unable to keep tickling Logan any longer as he sat back and just got lost in his own laughing fit.

Logan lay under him, now motionless and wheezing as he gasped to take in some big breaths to refill his depleted lungs. When he finally came to his senses, he found Wade was still laughing hysterically, prompting Logan to roll his eyes and shove the merc off of him so he could sit up.

Wade hardly seemed to notice as he fell to the floor, holding his sides while tears ran down his cheeks.

"What?" Logan stared over at him with a brow raised in confused annoyance.

"Th-The snohohohorts! Haahahahahah! Oh fuhuhuhuck, the snohohohohohorts!" Wade struggled to spit out as Logan now began to frown once he realized that Wade was laughing at him.

"It's not that funny, asshole," he growled, starting to feel insecure and regretting that he'd let his guard down so much. With no end to Wade's laughter in sight Logan went to stand up but was stopped as Wade leapt forward to grab onto him as he finally got under control to speak again.

"I'm-I'm sorry I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you embarrassed! Sometimes my brain just processes my emotions in ways I can't control so please don't take it the wrong way. I just got so happy and excited when I saw that snorting is part of your natural laugh. I LOVE it!"

"You're not just saying that shit?" Logan asked, still feeling unsure, though Wade looked absolutely horrified that he had even asked that.

"NO, I'm not just saying that! I'm sorry I'm an idiot and made you self-conscious about it. It's literally the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen! You believe me, right?" He looked hopefully at the other man who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Sure. Whatever."

Logan did in fact believe him. Wade was usually pretty upfront when talking about things like this so he had no real reason to think that he was simply trying to spare his feelings.

Wade however, took his short, blunt answer as rejection as he wailed and threw his arms around Logan's waist to cling to him tightly.

"Noooo don't shut down on me! Please forgive me, Peanut! Pleeeeeease!"

Logan sighed heavily at how overdramatic Wade could be.

"Calm down, will ya? When I said 'whatever' I meant it's okay. You're fine. Now get off and stop groveling," he pried Wade's arms from around him as the merc then flopped onto his stomach, resting his chin on his hands and kicking his feet in the air.

"I'm not kidding, I could listen to your laughing snorts all day and it would never get old," he stared up at his roommate adoringly, "Sorry if I went a little overboard on you though." 

"You call that a little overboard?" Logan's eyebrow crawled up his forehead as Wade's mouth dropped at the implication that he was responsible for everything.

"Hey, wait a fucking minute here, don't put this all on me. You were asking for it with all that shit you were talking, which was....well, surprising. I'd assumed you never got tickled much in your life, but you seemed pretty familiar with it," he sat up and finally retied his robe closed around him.

Logan smiled slightly as he started to wander inside his head.

"It was another lifetime ago, but yeah. My old team used to tickle me sometimes. Been so long that honestly, I was pretty nervous about you trying it."

"Ah shit, I really am an asshole," Wade felt a tang of guilt in his chest, knowing the X-men were still a very sore spot for Logan, "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

Confusion set over Logan's face.

"What for?"

"You know, for bringing up old memories you had with them. Don't worry, I won't do it again. I hope it didn't upset you too much."

Logan's puzzled expression then changed with a soft smile slowly breaking out.

"Wade ya got it all wrong. I'd have literally killed just to share in such mundane moments like that with them again. So once ya started tickling me it just, I don't know....made me think of those good times and...," he stopped as he looked away with a shake of his head, "Ah never mind, it's stupid."

"No no, it's not. Please keep going," Wade encouraged, scooting closer to indicate to Logan that he had his full attention.

"All I'm sayin' is that ya didn't upset me one bit. The opposite, in fact. That whole torture fest that you just put me through made me feel like I was with them again. I haven't felt that close to them ever since they were taken from me. And, well, what I'm trying to say is is that I felt.....happy."

Wade could feel his heart swelling up in his chest as Logan revealed all of this information to him. He instantly felt a lot better knowing that he hadn't caused his friend any mental anguish.

"That's such a big relief. You never seem to want to talk about them much, so I try to avoid making you think about them. The last thing I want to do is make you depressed."

"I know, but I've decided that's not what I should be doing. They don't deserve to not be openly remembered. Hell, I never want to forget anything about 'em."

Wade nodded in quiet understanding before Logan's eyes brightened up, reaching back into his mind.

"Kurt was the worst. He used to always get me bad. Really bad. Teleportation and a prehensile tail? It was always over for me before it even started. Heh, that fucker. Shit, even Jean and Scott would gang up on me once in a while. I tell ya, telekinesis is the ultimate cheat. And Rogue....she loved physical contact so you can guess that tickle fights were one of her favorite things. And I'd let her win once in a while....at least that's what I told myself, hmph."

Wade had never really heard Logan talk about his teammates before. It made him overjoyed to see he was starting to move forward in the right direction towards making peace with himself as Wade listened in silence to everything Logan said before finding his voice again.

"They sound like my kind of people. I think Nightcrawler and I would have made a formidable team-up against you," he playfully nudged Logan's shoulder as the X-man's smile grew from his mind manifesting an image of his old friend.

"Heh, Kurt. Yeah, he was something else. His goal was always trying to get me to snort too. He used to do those.....whaddya call that shit....raspberries. Right on my stomach. Just about damn near killed me," Logan chuckled and shook his head with a faint shiver running up his back; almost able to feel the sensation again as he thought about it.

Wade smirked as he rubbed his chin in thought like a supervillain.

"Ohhh reeeeeally....raspberries, huh? Well that sounds like it could be really fun. Remind me about it the next time I decide to tickle the shit out of you, kay?" Wade reached over and wiggled fingers into Logan's stomach, making him bust out a laugh before shoving the hand away.

"No fucking way. It's pure torture. Ya better not even think about it," he growled, but his words did not sound nearly as serious as he wanted Wade to believe. Of course, the other man picked up on that immediately but continued to play along.

"How can you expect me not to? I've never seen such ticklish abs. But okay. I'll think about not doing it, but no promises. So I suppose that means belly rubs are off the table too?"

Logan laughed again as he looked over at Wade.

"It's funny you say that because Jean and 'Ro used to give me belly rubs, thinking it would relax me, but it always just made me ticklish. I think that's partly why they liked doin' it, but regardless I never tried to stop them. Hell, sometimes I'd even ask for it. As much as it tickled it did feel pretty good."

"Well, I know I'm not nearly as hot as those X-women, but I'll always be here to give you all the belly rubs you could ever want," Wade chuckled, expecting Logan to roll his eyes and vehemently decline his offer, but instead a rare, warm smile broke onto the Wolverine's face.

"Really? You'd do that?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I would! You want one now?"

Logan shook his head as he got to his feet.

"Eh, maybe later. How about ya get your ass dressed first and we'll go out for a beer?"

Wade just stared back at him with both brows raised while he stood up as well.

"......It's 8:30 in the morning, Logan."

"Hey, breakfast beer is a thing, alright? Least it was in my universe. Kurt was always down to go with me so if ya want to.....it would mean a lot," a true, genuine smile was on Logan's face as he looked hopefully to his roommate.

Wade couldn't say no even if he actually wanted to. Logan was finally letting him into that side of his life, and he was not going to deny him. It felt like a new beginning. So he sidled up next to him and grinned broadly, putting an arm around the wide shoulders.

"Alright ya big lug, you talked me into it. Just give me a minute and then we'll go get fucked up."

"Appreciate it."

[airybcby]

hi! may i request shidou ryusei with the 🍓 and🍭 <33

ofc!

a shidou ryusei strawberry lollipop :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° what am i to do ?

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event :)

♡ content — shidou ryusei x gn! reader, gn! reader, reader has strong feelings for shidou, set in high school, unrequited love :)

♡ synopsis — shidou ryusei was like a hurricane of chaos, and you weren't sure your feelings would survive the hit.

You should’ve known something was up when Shidou Ryusei's name appeared next to yours on the list of marriage simulation partners.

The universe had a cruel sense of humor, pairing you with the one person you’d spent the past few years trying not to fall for.

But it was Shidou—a human hurricane, all sharp smiles and chaotic energy. You’d been swept up in his orbit long before this simulation ever began, even though you knew better.

For someone like him, love wasn’t a slow burn. It was an explosion. And you were terrified of being caught in the aftermath.

The first day in the shared apartment was like stepping into a storm.

“Yo, partner,” Shidou drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe with a cocky grin. “You ready to play house, or what?”

You rolled your eyes, dragging your suitcase inside. “It’s only for a week, Shidou. Try not to get too comfortable.”

“Oh, I’m plenty comfortable already,” he shot back, tossing his duffel bag onto the couch. “The real question is—are you ready for this?”

He gestured vaguely between the two of you, a wicked glint in his eye.

You didn’t dignify that with a response.

Living with Shidou was...an experience.

He had no concept of personal space, always lounging too close or draping an arm around your shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Relax,” he’d say whenever you stiffened under his touch. “You act like I bite or something.”

You knew better than to entertain him with a response.

But it wasn’t just the teasing.

It was the quiet moments, too—the rare glimpses of vulnerability that he never let anyone else see.

Like when he’d stay up late after dinner, staring at the city lights through the window, lost in thought. Or when he’d talk about his dream of being the best striker in the world, his voice softer than usual.

Those moments were what made it so hard to keep your feelings in check.

One evening, the two of you were tasked with planning a mock anniversary dinner for the simulation.

Shidou, naturally, insisted on making it “interesting.”

“C’mon,” he said, dragging you into the kitchen. “Let’s cook something fancy. How hard can it be?”

As it turned out, it was very hard.

An hour later, the kitchen was a disaster zone, and Shidou was laughing so hard he could barely stand.

“Okay, okay,” he said between gasps. “So maybe cooking isn’t my thing.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, too, despite the mess.

In moments like this, it was easy to forget that this wasn’t real—that none of this meant anything to him.

As the weeks went on, you found yourself getting more and more tangled in Shidou’s web.

Every playful remark, every fleeting touch—it all felt like something more than it was.

And you hated yourself for it.

Because no matter how much you wanted to believe otherwise, you knew that Shidou wasn’t capable of the kind of love you were looking for.

The breaking point came during one of the program’s mandatory relationship check-ins.

The counselor asked the two of you to describe what you’d learned about each other during the simulation.

You hesitated, unsure of what to say.

But Shidou, as always, didn’t hold back.

“I’ve learned that you’re way too serious,” he said with a grin. “But that’s okay. Someone’s gotta keep me in check, right?”

The room erupted in laughter, and you forced a smile, playing along.

But deep down, his words felt like a slap in the face.

Because while you were falling for him, he was just playing a role.

On the final night of the simulation, the two of you sat on the couch, flipping through the stack of photos from your tasks.

“Not bad,” Shidou said, holding up a picture of the two of you from the anniversary dinner. “We almost look like a real couple.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, your chest tightening.

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Hey. What’s with the long face? You’re not actually gonna miss me, are you?”

You forced a laugh, brushing it off. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But the truth was, you didn’t know how to let him go.

As you packed up the next morning, Shidou leaned casually against the doorway, watching you.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice unusually soft, “you’re not half bad at this whole ‘marriage’ thing.”

You looked up at him, your heart aching. “Thanks, I guess.”

For a moment, it felt like he was going to say something else—something important.

But then he smirked, breaking the tension. “Don’t miss me too much, okay? I’ll see you around.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Weeks later, you saw him on TV, scoring the winning goal for his team.

He grinned into the camera, all sharp edges and uncontainable energy, and you couldn’t help but smile, too.

Because even though he’d never been yours, a part of you would always belong to him.

And maybe—just maybe—that was enough.

he is the SILLIEST BILLY!!

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[mrstevenss]

idek why I have to say this but this is fucking weird

“babygirl is a man who can’t speak english properly” ??? not to be that one friend thats too woke but can the western world be normal about Asians. Like ever.

I swear to god everytime they see someone who can’t string together full sentences in english yet they just think they’re totally clueless about the world- oh and if they dare to SMILE??? dare to be HAPPY??? aww they’re just a little baby. They’re just a little incapable innocent child who needs to be shielded from all the evil of the world.

I’m not even saying don’t call him cute like yeah he is cute and he’s having fun and thats lovely but guys people can be cute and have fun… just say he’s cute and move on but yall HAAAAVEE to make it about race and how anyone whose not from America is just inherently weaker 😭😭 “sometimes babygirl is a 52 year old man” do you know how much more normal you sound

and yeah maybe it’s some human nature bs and it’s a subconscious feeling but just use your head for a second and maybe remind yourself that HE’S NOT EVEN FROM HERE

[theamityelf]

The first time Celeste put makeup on Makoto, he noticed his classmates starting to act differently around him.

Taka kept stuttering and his face was as red as a tomato(from holding in laughter, he assumes). Mukuro wouldn't even look at him(probably because she did wanna laugh). Leon wouldn't stop staring and would always open the door for him(probably because as a joke). Chihiro always carried his bags and books(only because felt bad him). Mondo kept getting angry and frustrated with him and rarely talked to him(okay, he doesn't know why that one happens). And Junko kept calling him pretty boy(to make fun of him, of course).

He sees his classmates different behaviors and didn't think much of it once the whole 'Celeste doing his makeup' kind of becomes a thing, thinking they were probably making fun of him. (What he did not see, however, was his classmates being idiots while trying to impress him)

(previous post: class treating Makoto differently bc of makeup)

Kyoko and Sayaka both try to nudge him closer to understanding the effect he's having on the class.

"You sure are getting a lot of attention today," Sayaka says brightly.

"Yeah, it's pretty embarrassing, but part of my promise to Celeste was that I couldn't wash it off until the end of the day, so I'm kind of stuck with it. Hopefully, everyone forgets about it tomorrow."

"Embarrassing? Why?"

"Well, I know I look silly, and everyone's kind of laughing at me..."

"Not at all! You look cute! I'm sure everyone's just noticing how cute you look."

"Haha, you think so? You always have such a positive spin on everything."

Meanwhile Kyoko's approach is more like:

"Do you have plans for lunch today?"

"Yeah," Makoto replies. "Byakuya's kind of ordered me to go off-campus with him to a fancy restaurant, so he can prove something about how bad my taste is. I was worried we might miss class if we go off-campus for lunch, but Byakuya says the waitstaff will be moving at the speed of light to accommodate him. So now I'm just worried that we won't hear the end of it from Taka when we get back."

"I see. Has Byakuya invited anyone else out to lunch?"

"Not that I know of. Oh, did you want to come, too? I think he's in the library, now, if you want to go ask him together."

Kyoko hides a smile behind her gloved hand. "As tempting as that is, I was more curious to discuss the exclusivity of the invitation. Has he ever invited someone to lunch before?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. From what he's said, probably not."

"Interesting. Then something must be different about you."

"I think it's great that he's ready to start having friends. If I can convince him to take Celeste somewhere nice, maybe she won't put this stuff on my face again for a while."

"You don't like how you look today?"

"I don't know. It's...weird for me. And everybody's staring and laughing."

"Laughing? I think maybe you need to think more about the reactions everyone has had. Try to get past your initial assumptions and really pay attention. I believe you can figure this out yourself."

"Figure what out?!" Makoto asks, as she walks away.

[majoryeager104]

Crush!

Part 1 | Part 2

In the context of this hc post

Dabi x gn!reader!

enjoyyyyy

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”you know…twice told me something real interesting earlier”

Dabi watched with a smile as you reacted- a quick pause, and you glanced away for a moment- the only confirmation that he needed that what Twice said had been true.

“and what’s that?”

you asked quietly, glancing back at him with a tilt of your head. You spoke quietly, and yet he could still hear your voice over the sound of the roaring flames next to you, he could hear the nervousness in your tone.

“he said you had feelings for me”

he spoke slyly, and in the flickering blue light he could see your eyes widen, ever so slightly, before quickly your face returned to I rested expression. Far quicker than he’d anticipated, actually.

“sounds like something he’d say”

you said dismissively, lying away the statement, although mentally you were taking note to talk to twice later, and by talk you meant flick his nose as you usually did when you were upset with him. You could never stay mad with the guy for long.

at your dismissiveness, Dabi couldn’t help but pause. He’d been so certain that what Twice had said was true, but your reactions could mean anything. He found himself feeling…sad. Why? It was a good thing that you weren’t harboring feelings wasn’t it? It meant he didn’t have to be awkward around you anymore, and yet…

“I should head back, I promised Himiko I’d watch some rom-com with her later”

“oh yeah? Which one?”

“10 things I hate about you.. she said I’d like it, so I’ll trust her judgement” (my fave istg it’s too good 👌)

“sounds fun. See you later then”

and with that, he watched you leave, waiting till you turned the corner before he kicked some debris on the ground. He stared at the roaring flames for a long while as he thought about what had happened.

Maybe twice had just been messing with him, or talking nonsense. But why would Twice say that if you didn’t actually like him? Was there something missing? Had Twice misread you? No, he’s always good with people, that can’t be it. There had to have been something about you that Twice had spotted if you hadn’t told him, or- or something about Dabi.

Now it was Dabi’s turn to widen his eyes as it hit him like a ton of bricks. Oh shit. He liked you.

All those hours he hung around the hideout waiting and keeping tabs on you, making sure you came back on time, watching your back during missions, looking forward to your check ins whenever he hadn’t seen you, all your wide eyed smiles when you spotted him, and how you always made him feel comfortable and secure even in the biggest of crowds. Maybe Twice had realized that Dabi loved you.

Now, after the realization had hit him, he definitely couldn’t act normal around you.

He found his eyes landing on you way too often, his gaze darting to you at random hours of the day in hopes you were looking back. He found himself more worried about you when you were gone, always checking his phone for your message. Shit, he found himself asking the others about you multiple times a day like a worried parent. He found himself feeling so enamored, so enraptured, and so, so pathetic.

You had begun to notice his glances and worsened worries, but didn’t pay it any mind. I suppose you didn’t realize his feelings now just as he didn’t realize your feelings before. Ironic, but love often is.

so, when inevitably you found yourself glancing at him as per usual, and caught him staring back, needless to say you were perplexed.

It was driving him crazy. The whole thing. You were so oblivious it could kill him on the spot. Was this how you’d felt? No, Twice had lied, there was no way someone like you could love a guy like him…was there?

Eventually, his pining got to the point where he couldn’t be around you. Once again you found he often disappeared when you had just arrived. To you, it seemed like he was upset, and that had you worried, and so, you asked the two other league members present, Twice and Shigaraki, (ofc lmao) what had been going on.

“Dabi? Upset? He always is.”

Shigaraki said bluntly. Twice shrugged, before piping up. “Yeah, last time he disappeared like this, it was after I told him you liked him- OW!”

Twice rubbed his nose after you flicked it, his pout evident through his mask. But he got you wondering what it could mean. Maybe he was still embarrassed about finding out. He’d not brought it up since, but now-

A message beeped on your phone. Speak of the devil, it was from Dabi.

‘hey. Can we talk?’

you quickly responded

‘yeah, in person?’

‘Warehouse off the highway.’

You said your goodbyes to the other two before leaving. You knew exactly where he meant, It hadn’t been the first time you’d been there, considering you just watched him burn it down a few days before.

You arrived quicker than he’d expected, you saw him absently kicking through the ashy rubble that remained after the city cleaned up most of the mess. “Hey” you called out, and he almost jumped at the sound of you, turning around with wide eyes to look at you before he relaxed once more. “Jeez, y/n, you tryin ta kill me?” he chuckled, hands in his pockets as he walked up to you. You could help but laugh “sorry about that”

once he reached you, his face got rather serious. It worried you for a moment, till he finally spoke “about what Twice said the other day…”

here it goes. He’s gonna turn you down and tell you how dumb you’d be to fall for a guy like him. He’s gonna tell you he never thought of you that way and that you should drop it, that he-

“I feel the same”

he said it so quickly and quietly that you couldnt help but pause to process, blinking up at him. What you saw when you looked at his face would shock anyone. A blush. Creeping across his face, under the scars and staples and piercings, he was blushing. And he was blushing a lot.

He felt dumb for telling you. He actually hadn’t intended to- his goal was to pry your feelings out of you, but he’d blurted his confession without a second thought.

You felt dumb for staring so long. Everything was so quiet around the two of you, except for the quiet sound of his breath and yours. But inside your head you were feeling.

“really?”

you spoke quietly, your own face red with blush now. He nodded sheepishly, resorting to looking anywhere but your eyes. You stayed quiet for a moment as he looked back up at you.

“please tell me that ass wasn’t joking”

Dabi said, nervously laughing as his face got even redder. At this, you couldn’t help but smile and laugh, shaking your head. “No, he wasn’t. I like you too, Dabi”

He stared for a moment, the most soft, happy smile you’d ever seen plastered on his face, like a kid who just got exactly what he’d wished for for Christmas. It was cute. But then, the smile faltered

“great” he spoke sheepishly, shoving his hands even further into his pockets as you too looked away in embarrassment.

“It’s not always gonna be this awkward right?”

you laughed, shaking your head “no, it’ll get easier, I think” you blushed, and he smiled back at you, stepping a bit closer. He looked like he wanted to lean in, but stopped himself, instead ruffling your hair. “Good…we should probably get back” he said quietly, tilting his head. You nodded, smiling back.

“…yeah!”

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I love shy Touya so much I can’t even explain it

[aritsukemo]

Comfort at the Edge of Darkness | Himeko

Summary: Himeko is the best at comforting people, even if that person is knocking on death's door.

Warnings: Major Character Death ahead! ( reader ) This drabble was written with strictly platonic intent! ( Reader is implied to be underaged ) Teen/Pre-teen reader is implied ( whichever you want to envision ) Reader is also lightly implied to be a Masked Fool. Mentions of being crushed ( Reader had a giant pillar fall on them and end up bleeding out ) I still consider myself a new player to HSR so Himeko may be a bit ( or very ) ooc. With all that said, read at your own discretion.

A/N: Did I plan to ever write something star rail related? Yes, yes I did. Did I think it would be platonic or involving Himeko comforting a dying child? No, no I did not- 💀 Uh, anyways, this was spontaneously written at like two in the morning after reading this Dan Feng x reader drabble made by @milksnake-tea ( go check them out btw, their writing is AMAZEBALLS ) so I'm sorry if this is a bit sloppier than my usual works. I'll try not to let it happen again! 🙏

Tagging: @nursedflowers / @onmysundaybest

People are such liars.

It's not like they can help it. Like eating and sleeping, lying was just another humanly function the body nor mind could resist. It's impossible for someone to be 100% truthful all the time because even claiming that would be a lie in itself.

All that's to say that you've been told many lies in your lifetime and have spewed such falsehoods just as much. Others' lies are what led you down this path and your own have both built you up and made you fall from grace with almost no hope of crawling your way back up. Both have made you the enemy of many, but neither have made you friends with the few good saps you've come to travel with. Those pathetically soft and forgiving Trailblazers you've come to dine with, joke with, cry with, and ultimately, die for.

Heh. It was all so stupid.

That's what past you would probably say to you right now if they were here to see your hair being died red by your own pool of blood. They'd probably scoff, maybe even sneer at the sight of the bottom half of your body crushed under this pillar. And oh, the way they'd absolutely glare with disappointment and disgust at the sight of your smile growing like it is right now, or rather, who it was directed at.

"Miss Navigator, heh.. Come to send me off?" Talking felt like running without toenails. It felt like sticking a sword down your throat. It hurt like hell. But, it is in your character to joke at a time like this.

And what were you without this role you've been playing for oh so long?

"Y/n... You.." Her voice was unlike her usual cheerful mellowness. It was sunken, rasped by dreadful surprise. It was a tone you never thought would come from her ruby lips. To you, she always seemed like the type to be composed in a situation like this one.

Maybe she would if the person laying under this pillar wasn't you. Who knows.

"I've had worse done to me honestly.." You managed to force yourself to say, though it left a bitter taste in your mouth. You roll your tongue and that bitter taste begins tasting more and more metallic, though you decide to ignore it in the end.

"Heh..aren't you happy?" You asked, "Finally..at long last.. The-.. The Astral Express will be rid of pranks and folly. It'll..at last, harbor the peace it once had.."

"Of course I'm not," She whispers. You pick up on the slight quiver her normal voice deceptively masks, "Why would I be happy about something like this?"

"Why wouldn't you?" You asked, for once, with your genuine emotions leaking over your tone.

You couldn't wrap your head around a reason for such a reaction as the one on her face. Sure, maybe the aspect of your age may cause a heartstring to be tugged, but that would be more so out of disappointment because of the wasted potential—the extraordinary power and protection—that would be lost following your death, and even then, you don't see that as something she should be relatively choked up about. After all, with the luck the Astral Express has, there's bound to be much stronger vessels than yourself willing to join the freight that would give them much less of a headache. That Stellaron for example.

..Now that you really think about it, what even was their reason for inviting you on the train at all? They had more than capable people aboard already, and while the untapped power within you could bring worlds to their knees, those goody goodies would never think of using it. You weren't much for peaceful entertainment either and caused nothing but discourse amongst the crew members even after swearing to turn over a new leaf when you became a Trailblazer.

It made no sense. She made no sense, and to that, you sought out answers... Though, the one you received wasn't very satisfying; silence.

So you ask her, though with a bit of your typical sarcasm, "Why..Miss Navigator...aren't you jumping for joy over this thorn in your side finally being cut away?"

And she answers with sickening authenticity, "Because I wished to protect you."

You huff out a laugh, though you end up coughing up more blood than air. It was incredulous. After all, there was no need for someone such as you, younger or not, to be coddled and protected like some wounded birdie. Your character wasn't constructed for such a pillowy fate.

"You of...all people know I'm in no need of protection," You say, "It's not something I deserve or yearn for... It's utterly pointless to me."

"Is that really what you think? ..Because all I can see is child in need of nothing more than that," Your eyes widen. Himeko catches a glimpse of it for only a moment and it tugs at her heart strings when thinking about how it'll be one of the last expressions she'll every see you make. You, who though once walked the path of darkness with your fool's mask and caused many nothing but pain and suffering, she could never come to even greatly dislike.

..Because in her eyes, you were never a criminal or a murderer or a weapon of destruction. You were just a fledging who attempted to soar too early and ultimately fell out of their nest and into a dangerous forest of tyrannical wolves and manipulative foxes. You were just a child who was ripped apart and never pieced back together—who, at some point, must've screamed and cried for their mother to come and take them home, surely.

And in the face of such a person, how could she have wanted anything more than to whisk you off to safety and slowly mend you back together? To teach your body that it was made for more than just endless strife and pain? To let your soul become aware of the fact that the role of your character was no longer needed because she was here now to witness your vulnerability and allow it to spread free of consequence, cherish it, and shield it as if it were a precious gem?

"Hey... Miss..Navigator," She heard your faint call. She looks down again, her eyes at a sorrowful downcast as she asked, "Yes?"

"I'm...real' sleepy... Could I.." You didn't finish your sentence. You couldn't, but whether that was because you were adamant on dying wearing your cracked mask or that it was simply too much work to continue formulating your sentence was unknown.

Nevertheless, your silent request reached her and in seconds your head was resting on her thighs and one of her hands had found purchase in the only one you could still feel.

In an instant, her warmth began to spread throughout your body, replacing the warmth that had long since left you. It felt nice, kinda like taking a warm bath after treading through a blizzard to get home. And, as stupid as it was to admit, the feeling unclasped the lock that you had placed in the very back of your mind—unsealed the gate you had barricaded past memories your heart was never able to part with behind—and brought you back to a time you had forgotten long ago.

And for the first and last time, you broke character and allowed the tears to fall freely and wet your cheeks, all while a look of tranquility crossed your features; like a little kid dozing off to sleep after a long day's work of playing with the same broken toys.

And as numbness began to creep over your consciousness, you whispered to her, "Good..night... Miss Navigator..."

To which she returned the favor, as any mother would do, "Goodnight, dear.. I hope your dreams are forever sweet."

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[sweeetestcurse]

Ilmo Koskela 01/??

[luveline]

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐬

You’re in love with Spencer from the minute he gets you in his bed. [4k]

c: fem/afab. smut mdni, p in v sex, oral, fluff, aftercare, early intense feelings, spencer in sweetheart mode, flirting.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆

It’s a cold day in November when you see him across the bar. He’s sitting at a table of friends drinking from a tall glass of coke. He’s normal. Non-imposing, undeniably cute, laughing with a smile that shows his teeth. His tie is to his belt and his suit jacket’s been thrown over the back of the chair. 

He looks like he might have fun with you, if you can catch his attention. Something about him seems… eager to please. 

You watch him, and you watch his friend. He seems more your usual type, muscled, confident. He’s the key. You let your gaze linger on the curly-haired boy until the friend glances your way. You give him a look. Hey, who’s your friend?

You look away once you see an arm rise. There’s elbowing, arguing. You sit relaxed at the bar and twists your straw through cherry spritz, ice cubes tinkling. After a minute you think, Oh, come on. After two you worry you aren’t his type. 

Then comes salvation. The curly haired boy slots between your seat and the next, beckoning the bartender forward with a nearly perfect, “Excuse me?” 

“Right there with you.”

You wait. He seems cute, but you’re not trying to take him home if he doesn’t have the chops for it. And not because you see yourself as some deadly thing to be pleased, but you can’t spend another night fluffing someone else’s feathers. 

“Hey,” he says finally, surprisingly without the nerves you’d read before. He must’ve breathed through them. “How’s it going?” 

You lift your gaze from the dark purple of your spritz. The first thing you notice are the beauty marks you couldn’t see before, along his cheeks and hiding among a light shadow of stubble. “Hi, handsome,” you say softly. You can’t imagine him liking a firm touch, but that might become more apparent later on. “Nothing’s going on, I suppose I was just waiting for you.” 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“Mm-hm.” 

He puts one arm on the bar. You let your eyes dawdle on his hand. “Are you here alone?” 

“I was with a friend,” you confess, lifting your gaze to his, making steady eye contact for as long as he’ll allow you to. His gaze flits to your mouth as you continue. “But she met somebody. I was told not to wait up.” 

“So you’re in need of company?” 

You tip your head to give him the best glance at you, all eyes and gentle smiles as you nod. “Would that be you?” 

“What are you drinking?” 

“Cherry spritzer.” 

“Can I buy you another one?” 

“Just one, please.” You believe in the overarching reach of sexuality, of being with someone, but you don’t believe in drinking and sex, nor allowing a man to pave the way. “This is my first. If I have more than that I’ll be too tipsy to do what I want tonight.” 

“What’s that?” he asks. 

You tap your nose. The boy —the man— to your delight, seems to like the gesture very much. 

The bartender approaches. Your unknown, lovely looking man asks for a coke and a cherry spritzer, extra cherries, though you didn’t tell him too. He nods to your little plate of cherry stems and asks, “Can you tie a knot?” But before you can answer, he adds, “I’m good at it.” 

Spencer proves to be good at a few things. Kissing, touching, his face in sweet places and his spit-wet thumb to a nerve. One moment you’re sitting at the bar wondering if he’ll take you home and the next you’re taking a taxi, you’re lying in his bed being stripped of your stockings, being laid on top of. You didn’t know he had it in him, this sweaty, adoring kissing in the dark; there’s a difference between kissing for hunger’s sake and kissing with love, and for some strange reason Spencer doesn’t seem to know the difference. 

“Have we met before?” you ask, the ache between your legs sharper than ever as his hand flirts with the boundary of your stomach and the apex of you, begging to go back there and prolong what he’d started. 

“No.” His lips are on your neck, kissing as he slips a finger behind your ear. “I’d remember.”

His chest pushes into yours again, triggering a breathy gasp as the button of your nipple takes the brunt of him. He turns your face, that flirting hand abandoning your wanting cunt to squeeze at your sides, your ribs, the soft hill of your breast. 

“Do you wanna cum again?” he asks softly. The best part is that he’s earnest, not a second of bravado in it as he lays his lips against your cheek. 

You could. He’d done stuff with his mouth you’ve never experienced before, fingertips teasing your wetness as he told you something about tantrics and pleasure, his hand under your knee, holding you open. You’d felt so suddenly out of control and —and honestly, you’d thought yourself half in love with him for the way he was kissing you alone. No shyness, but softness. No rushing, no annoyance when it took you time to tip into pleasure. He’d been delighted when you seized, had sat up to draw the climax out with circles, matching pace to your rising chest. 

You slip a hand into his curls and treat him with the same sweetness he’d given you, kissing him like you love him: for whatever time this is, you really do. He’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever fucked. All it took to meet was a snowstorm and a need to escape the rigid cold. 

“I think you should fuck me now,” you say, scratching his scalp lightly, not so frantic, no more pulling. “Please.”

He kisses you, kisses your jaw, and doesn’t pretend he isn’t eager as he snatches the condom from the dresser. For a while things are giggly and breathless, nervous for a pause, then achingly tight. You stay and Spencer wraps his arms behind you, kissing your neck as you let your leg fall to the side. 

“When did you tell me your name?” you ask, breathless again as his kiss matches his rhythm, slow grinds of his hips, flirting as his hand had been, just a few inches from filling you completely. 

“I don’t remember,” he says through a kiss.

“Spencer.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I just thought I’d try it,” you say, covering your eyes with your hand as his hips flex and he touches that worst part of you over, and over, and over. 

Spencer turns your face to take your hand, slowing to a crawl. He checks your gaze, and sinks into you again. Slow fucking, long kisses, his hands rubbing up the juncture of your neck and down again, then stroking your arms, comfort for a pain you don’t feel. 

“What do you want me to do?” he asks quietly. 

“Just this.” 

“No, but what do you want?” he asks, lips pulled into a smile that didn’t quite make it into a laugh. “What feels best? I can get you there again.” 

So you end up more on your side than your back. He helps you lift a leg over his hip and then he’s back to kissing you senseless. You can’t think of anything but being kissed, being fucked, it doesn’t just feel like an okay pastime with a vaguely handsome guy heightened by a drink, it’s fucking with intent. He curls an arm behind your back to hold you against him and he lets you have everything. 

Something must give you away, a shaking leg, the way you breathe; he knows you’re ready before you do, kissing down your chest as his hand sinks between your hot thighs. Slick or not, he finds where he wants to touch, your eyes filling with heat as he slows. 

He draws it out. The second his lips find your chest you trip into cumming for the second time. You hadn’t realised he was close but you cum and he quickly follows, his nose at your collar. He sounds insane. Beggy, breathy moans, a shade from laughter.

“Can I keep going?” he asks just under your ear. 

You can’t say yes fast enough. He’s kind, ignoring your desperate tone. 

You don’t count the number of times you fuck that night. It’s not clear, really. They aren’t separate occasions. You come down and he’s stroking the skin of your neck as you catch your breath, drawing lines down your arm, murmuring, “You okay?” as you nod and slip a hand behind his back. 

He hugs you like he’s known you for years. When you kiss his blushing chest, kiss downward, he turns breathless. It goes on like that for a while. Afterwards, he situates himself between your legs and lets his weight force your thighs into your abdomen, just enough to feel the pressure, searching kisses pressed to your knee. 

It’s not that you fuck all night, it’s just different than before. And when he encourages you under his sheets to lay behind you, there’s a part of you that wants his hand to stray between your legs again, no matter how tired you are. 

“I’d say sorry for keeping you up, but you sounded like you liked it,” he murmurs in the dark, wrapping a solid arm around your stomach and pulling you tightly to him.

You have no regrets. For perhaps the first time ever, it feels as though all your gasps and teary sighs were adored, and not just smugly kept. “You didn’t notice me falling asleep?” 

He laughs at your teasing, his breath kissing the back of your neck. “When did that happen?” 

“…I don’t want to fall asleep, now.” 

“You don’t have to… I can make you a cup of tea, or…” He draws another line down your arm, ending in a swirl before your elbow. “You could shower.” 

Both sound nice, but no. Your legs are still weak from being held, the ache of a good fuck taking home in your stomach. Truthfully, nothing could make you wanna leave whatever it is he’s doing to you now. The shape of his lips warms your shoulder. 

“That was amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” he says, wrapping you up all over again. He can’t decide how to hold you. You grab his hand and keep it there under your breasts, letting your eyes flutter closed. 

How can he say that? He has this strange way of touching that’s making you feel yards prettier than you usually do, and he’d just fucked you like a dream. You couldn’t manage that sort of pleasure alone. 

“Where have you been hiding?” you whisper, toying with his fingers. Might as well do everything you can while you can. 

“Nowhere.” 

“So where have you been?” 

He takes a breath. “Turn around?”

You begin turning and he takes you like a dance, leaning in slowly to kiss you, until his smoothness gives way to a smile. He pulls back. In the barest lick of light from the window, you can see a blush spreading across his nose. 

“Sorry. I should ask, I shouldn’t just kiss you,” he says, cupping your cheek. 

How might you go about marrying this boy? You decide to play it cool, kissing him until you fall asleep in his arms, your lips still parted for another lazy press of his as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. 

—

You wake to something new. There isn’t a man against you hinting for a morning tryst, nor an empty bed, a note to let yourself out when you’re ready. There’s a real, gentle hand on your neck. It slides to your shoulder and rubs. 

“You okay?” a voice asks. 

You force your eyes open, blurry vision further occluded by a face. 

His hair is damp. Like he showered a while ago. Spencer’s hand travels to the back of your neck and touches accordingly. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, but it’s almost one. I was worried you might be sick.” 

You close your eyes, smiling, better when he scratches the back of your neck with short nails. “I was up late.” 

“I know, I’m  sorry.” 

You wait for him to tell you why you have to leave, any manner of excuse, but nothing comes. 

“So are you? Okay?” he asks gently. 

“I’ll leave soon.” 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say. If you’re not sick, you can go back to sleep.” 

“And just lay in your bed all day,” you murmur, disbelieving. 

“If you wanted to. Or… you can shower, and I can make you something to eat.” His thumb takes to your cheek. One night stand sex can’t be something he does often, or there’s a real possibility that he’s the first man to ever do it right.

His eyes are so much bigger than you realised. “Do you wear glasses?” 

He stammers, embarrassed, “How would you guess that?” 

You raise a hand to his face and draw a short line against his nose. “You have the marks here. Were you reading?” 

“Just while I was waiting for you.” 

“What do you do?” 

“What?” 

“I didn’t ask what you do, I don’t think we managed to ask each other much of anything,” you say, rewarded for your vulnerability with a chest-aching smile, his canine teeth peeking from under his lips. He still looks kissed, lips a shade of sore you’re sure you’d see on yourself in the mirror. 

“I work for the government,” he says, catching your hand to cradle your wrist, “for something called the behavioural analysis unit.” 

“Like, statistics?” 

He lets your hand fall against his chest, a thin grey t-shirt under your knuckles failing to hide the shapes of him, of which you’d explored at length last night. You kissed as much of his chest as you could and it hadn’t felt like enough, Spencer leaner than you’d realised with a stomach on the soft side, easy to kiss relentlessly. 

Your mouth is drying thinking about it. Spencer watches you wordlessly, before saying, “I guess it is like statistics, especially for me. We try to think about serial criminals in terms of their motives. It’s an attempt at math for something not usually quantitative.” 

“And you’re good at it.” 

“I’m good at math, yeah.” 

“Probability of a,” —your breath betrays you, slightly too hopeful as it catches— “morning kiss if I brush my teeth first?” 

His eyes light up. He leans down carefully, and gives you a chaste, firm kiss. 

You forget that you’re naked, not worried about being shy. The sheets fall away from you as you lift up to meet him. He holds them to your naked waist, the other hand skirting just below your breast. You wish he’d touch you like he did last night, but he isn’t so forward. His kiss is kind. You frown as he pulls away. 

“I had a really great time, last night,” he says, tip of his thumb setting your nerves aflame as it drifts over your skin. “Really great.” 

“Me too.” 

“And you’re okay?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Nothing hurts?” he asks. 

“No, of course not.” Your confusion clears. “No, you weren’t like that. I think my legs might be aching but that’ll go away in the shower.” 

“I can run you a bath, if you want. It’s a half bath so you might not be able to stretch out, but it’ll help.” He gives you a smile. The familiarity between you doesn’t want to ebb. 

“Shouldn’t have showered without me,” you say, soft, lest playful be something he doesn’t want on a new day. 

“My hair was greasy. Someone kept touching it.” 

You sit up. Spencer’s hands fall to yours.

It’s hard not to play with someone’s hair when it’s in their face, and when they’re trailing kisses in warm places. He doesn’t blame you really, you can see it in his eyes. 

For a pause, you just sit. 

This is nice. Not being thrown out, left with that aching gap in your chest like you gave something you hadn’t intended when it started. Sex will never be easy again, you realise, not when you know it can be good. 

“You’re not working today, are you?” you ask. 

“No, why?” he asks in turn, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

“Maybe we…” He waits. He’s pretty enough to force your hand. “We could get to know each other,” you say, gaze taking refuge on his hands. “If you want to.” 

”Really?” 

“I’ve never had that with someone. Maybe we’re, I don’t know, compatible in more ways than one.” You remember yourself, lifting your head, startled by the sheer want in his expression as he holds your fingers. “You’re handsome, and you seem kind. We could have fun.” 

“We could have so much fun,” he says, that flushed blush already spreading across his nose again. 

You draw a line up his chest. “I might need help getting my back, in the shower. That’s not a tight squeeze, is it?” 

“We might have to stand very close.” 

You giggle wildly as he pulls you up, worse when he drapes a sheet over you worrying about the cold. It’s treatment you could grow used to. 

— 

Spencer’s trying to figure out how he got here. You, across the bar sending him looks —Derek swore you were— and the second he got to your chair he realised you were out of his league, but he had nothing to lose beside his pride. 

Then there was you, in bed, pulling on his tie murmuring sweet somethings, sweet pleadings, really, taking another kiss as he moved as you asked. 

Then you, the morning after. You’d slept for long enough to scare him, but when you woke you were exactly the girl you’d been the night before, only slower. Ever so slightly bashful. We could get to know each other. 

Spencer’s not sure how he managed it, but you don’t go home. And on Monday you go to work and come back. On Tuesday he meets you outside of your building to take you for dinner, and you come back with him again, another night up in his arms, tangling his hair with enthusiastic fingers. The sex is good, it is, not just ‘cos his past catalogue of lays were with women who wanted casual experiences solely, or those few times with Ethan where it ended too fast and left him useless. You fuck him like you love him. It’s crazy, except he’s acting the same way. 

When you’re not fucking you’re in his lap, or sitting at the coffee table with your face on his thigh driving him crazy, or you’re laying with your feet tucked under him telling him something about you. He is desperate for the details. 

Like, this is it. You’ve pulled your chair as close to his as humanly possible and thrown both legs over his, basically sharing his seat as you laugh around a messy mouthful of Thai noodles. 

“Don’t look, I’m being disgusting–”

“You’re never disgusting, let me–”

He’s heard you pee. He’s kissed you all over. The human aspects of you don’t bother him. 

“Spence, can you–”

“It’s going up your nose–”

“–stop, holy s–”

He pinches your nose clean. “Tada. Kiss now?” 

“You wanna share?” 

“Yes!” 

“No.” You press your hand to your mouth before he can lean in.

He lets you swallow your mouthful. Your ankle is cool in his hand. When people talk about love, it’s about meeting someone, the dates and the phone calls, the big questions. Spencer didn’t know you could do it like this. Every time you go home, you’re asking if you can come back or pestering him to come your way. 

“Can I kiss you now?” he asks imploringly. 

“No, we’re done kissing for a bit. I want another one of those massages.” 

He can’t joke about it or he’ll turn crimson. You enjoyed a polite leg massage, until he got to your thighs, and things got out of hand. 

“No massages.” He taps you under the chin, letting his hand travel wherever it wants over the side of your face. 

“Fine, no massages. Unless you want one?” 

“No, we agreed tonight we’d just– sleep. My boss is onto me.” 

You wink involuntarily as he cups your cheek, his fingers pushed lightly over your eyes.

You aren’t fiends, but finding someone who matches as you do makes it hard to abstain from the fun. Last night was tame, though; he’d made sure you were happy and fallen asleep to grateful neck kisses. Tonight, he won’t say no, but these all-hours affairs have to stop. Derek’s suspicious of him, Hotch has the situation entirely sussed, he's sure, and Spencer’s sixty percent sure Rossi saw you both outside of Quantico tonight kissing against a toll booth.  

Not that it matters. Spencer has a good feeling you’re not a fling. 

“I got you some stuff earlier,” he says. 

You pull his hand from your face and ask, “What stuff?” 

“Like, stuff you need here. I don’t know what you like, but there’s a cleansing balm– are you allergic to chamomile?” You shake your head. “Um, it might be weird, I got you underwear, just ‘cos of the situation yesterday–”

“I liked wearing boxers, they were snug in a certain region is all–”

“–and some shampoo. That sort of stuff. Just so you can stop suffering with mine.” 

“You know what shampoo I use?” 

“I deduced it.” 

“Ah, yes, mister profiler,” you mumble, bending into your knees to hold his face. “If I hadn’t looked you up online I’d think you were a stalker. How can you guess my favourite ice cream flavour when I never told you?”

He smiles shyly. “I just can.”

“Is there anything else you’ve guessed about me?” 

“Every meal with you takes a half hour. You’re easily distracted.”

He laughs as you protest, “You’re distracting! You don’t need to guess that.” 

“You distract me, too.” 

You gather yourself up and stand over him to kiss his nose. “Spencer,” you whisper, your fingers sliding into his hair, “thank you. You don’t have to buy me stuff, I could’ve just gone home.”

“I don’t really want you to.” 

You raise your head to see him eye to eye. “I don't want to either. This is… I like you.” 

He hums, wrapping his arms around you. The hugs are rarer than kisses, but only because you’ve shared so many of the latter in the dark. He’s been thinking of kisses as the extension to fucking, that they’re okay as long as it’s done in bed, but the more time you stay, the more kisses you’ve shared for no reason at all. You kissed his cheek on the train earlier and he felt it like a shock, tipping his chin down to peck you on the lips, your arm curled behind his back as the traincar rattled over a bend. 

“I like you too,” he laughs. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, of course I do.” 

“Not just…” 

“It’s not just the sex,” he says, waving his hand behind your shoulder as you curl into him all over again. It feels amazing. 

“Should we go out, then?” 

“We do.” 

“No, should we date? We could be partners, officially.” 

Spencer can’t take it, scooping you into his lap, though you do sit obligingly on his thigh. He shifts to take the weight. 

“Please, let’s be partners,” he says softly. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t, it’s still soon.” 

“Five days and counting. That’s longer than some marriages, you know.” 

“Maybe we can be, like, tentative boyfriend and girlfriend. If you change your mind, no hard feelings.” 

“And if I don’t?” he asks. 

“Then we get married in Vegas.” 

“You could meet my mom.” 

“I’d love to meet your mom.”

“Do you really wanna be my girlfriend?” he asks. 

“I mean… there’s not such a big difference in dating and what we’re doing, right? This is relationship stuff, we just sort of skipped the awkward first dates.” 

“We did,” he says, failing to hide his grin. 

You stroke his cheek with your nose.

Your attempt at abstinence doesn’t last, but neither party is to blame. You have to celebrate somehow. So you finish your takeout dinner and wash dishes bumping hips. He locks the door for the night and you, giggling, struggle to change his A/C. When he drags you by the sleeve to the bedroom, he doesn’t intend on jumping right into it, and for a while he doesn’t. You lay on top of him between his parted legs and he spends a sluggish hour stroking your hairline, listening to you talk. But his devotion turns to your ear, and he’s kissing behind it, and you’re hitching yourself up his chest soon enough. 

“That cherry spritzer was worth it, huh?” you ask lowly, scratching his jaw as you sit over him.

You really are pretty, amplified by your syrupy smile. 

“I guess that depends what you think. Was I as good at making knots as I promised?” he asks. 

“I can’t remember.” 

“I can remind you?”

“That might be prudent, Dr. Reid.” 

“I never should’ve told you about that,” he murmurs, your lips atop his, ready to be parted. 

“I would’ve found out eventually. I’m gonna find out everything about you, honey.” 

Spencer lets his eyes shutter closed. Me first, he thinks, giving in to another endless kiss. He has the advantage, after all. 

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