#pebbles looking so grumpy

[the-colossal]

Went to pax with moon and pebbles and they had a blast

[zepskies]

Wake Up Call

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Sam often gets up before you in the morning. He enjoys luring you into the waking world. 

AN: Surprise! After writing Rest for Dean, equal parts hurt/comfort and fluff, I’ve been itching to do some “early morning” fluff for Sam…

Word Count: 700

Warnings: 18+ only for smuttishness. Fluff and feels.

Unlike Dean, Sam isn’t one to be sentimental.

It doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. On the contrary, he hordes and treasures memories in his mind, rather than on his shelves.

It also means he’s not one to collect things just to have them. There has to be a practical use, like the way good books can be read again. Even his dad’s journal is a useful resource, not just a record of the man’s most significant words, and in some ways, his legacy.

Sam’s room is function, not fluff.

That is, until you invaded.

Well, less invaded, and more invited, but still. He sees traces of you everywhere, in the half-drunken mugs of coffee and tea piling up across his nightstand; in the shelves you’ve put up to showcase his books, alongside yours (complete with “cute” little bookends you found at a flea market in town); and in the extra fuzzy blankets and smaller pillows you’ve bought, not only because they’re comfortable, but because they help “pull the room together,” in your words.

Sam had to snort at that one. Somehow, he doesn’t think a few decorative pillows and a lamp from Goodwill are going to make a windowless bedroom in a bunker look like a page out of a Pottery Barn catalog.

But he humored you then, with the same smile he looks down on you with now. It's early in the morning as he sits up beside you in bed with his coffee. He has a fresh mug ready for you on the nightstand. (He's also brought the army of old ones back to the kitchen sink.)

He spares a moment from his laptop to brush your hair away from your cheek as you sleep. His hand drifts down your bare shoulder, as far as he can reach down your arm. Finally, his touch stirs you. Your breathing shifts with a little hum as you creep closer to wakefulness.  

“Awake already?” you grumble at him.

“Yeah. Waiting for you.”

“Hnnmmmmm.”

Sam smiles. You can be so grumpy in the morning.

He takes another sip of his coffee and sets aside his mug and his laptop. He gets up just to raise his side of the blankets, sliding back in and slotting himself behind you. You sigh after his arm has slipped beneath your head, and the other around your waist, pulling you comfortably warm against his chest.

He issues his first plan of attack, laying soft kisses behind your ear, along your jaw. Even with your eyes closed, you smile as his long hair tickles your cheek. He pays special attention to your pulse point, nipping and sucking gently. A shiver tingles down your spine.

“No fair,” you breathe out, reaching back a hand to card through his hair. Your fingers tangle in the dark strands as he smiles against your skin.

He continues his tantalizing path down your neck. His hand moves under the sheets, under your borrowed sleep shirt. His thumb brushes the underside of your breast, earning a pleased hum from you. It encourages him to palm the round softness with his big hand, pebbling the nipple under his nimble, rolling fingers.

Uttering a soft whine, you begin to subtly writhe against him. Your ass presses back into him, accidentally-on-purpose. His arousal rises to meet you, a low-burning fire crackling to life.

Sam’s kisses become more insistent with the brush of his tongue against your skin. His hand moves from playing with your breast, down the soft length of your body. Every move is a form of delicious persuasion, especially when his fingers slip under the waistband of your panties.   

“You awake yet?” Sam teases, his lips moving against your cheek.

Your smile grows. You finally open your eyes and tangle your leg with his under the covers.

“If I’m not, this is one hell of a dream,” comes your cheeky reply.

Sam chuckles. His fingers dip between your legs, into your wet heat. You suck in a breath.

His voice in your ear is enough to raise the hair on your arms.

“Baby, we haven’t even started yet.”

AN: 😘 Hope you enjoy! I haven't written Sam in a while, but I do love him too. 💜

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[itendtothinkalot]

mr oh so popular (grumpy x sunshine ish)

summary: your life has always been pretty normal—nothing too exciting, just the usual. but then, bam! you walk past the campus heartthrob, yeonjun, only to find him face down on the ground, knocked out cold. and of course, your best friend insists on dragging him home to nurse him back to health. but here's the twist—why is he not as awful as you thought he'd be???

genre: flluff

characters: yeonjun x f!reader, best friend!beomgyu

words: 14k

warnings: period talk i guess, cuss words

There’s something magical about walking across campus at night. It’s quiet, the stars are out, and the looming stress of exams feels a little less crushing. Well, until your best friend opens his mouth.

“You know, if I had superpowers, I’d probably choose invisibility,” Beomgyu declared, waving a half-eaten popsicle like a scepter.

“That’s unoriginal,” you said, kicking a stray pebble across the pavement. “What’s the point of invisibility anyway?”

“Uh, everything? Sneaking into movie theaters. Skipping boring lectures. Spying on people to see what they say about me—”

You stopped walking and shot him a look. “Beomgyu, no one is talking about you. Or me. We're invisible enough.”

Beomgyu groaned, clutching his chest dramatically. “Ouch. Speak for yourself. I am not invisible.”

You raised an eyebrow, silently daring him to prove it. Right on cue, the sounds of cheering and laughter erupted from the quad, where a small crowd had gathered.

“Case in point.” Beomgyu pointed toward the commotion. At the center of it all, like a deity holding court, was none other than Choi Yeonjun.

There he was, perched on a bench, his grin brighter than the lampposts around him. Someone had thrown a varsity jacket over his shoulders, and it only made him look more cool (which you would never admit to anyone). People hung on his every word, laughing at jokes that probably weren’t even funny. Typical.

Beomgyu sighed, pointing at the popular male. “Y’know what, I changed my answer! That’s the kind of power I’d want. Not invisibility—charisma.”

You scoffed. “Charisma isn’t a superpower.”

“Tell that to him.” Beomgyu jabbed his popsicle stick in Yeonjun’s direction, where he’d just effortlessly flipped a water bottle, earning cheers like he’d just solved world hunger.

“Ugh.” You groaned, grabbing Beomgyu’s sleeve to pull him away before he started gawking in public. “I don’t get the hype. He’s not even that hot.”

“Not even that hot?” Beomgyu scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, you have to admit he’s objectively good-looking. Like, the guy could model for a skincare commercial. Dude’s poreless.”

“Sure, if you’re into guys who have a cardboard personality” you muttered.

Beomgyu snorted. “I’m just saying, there’s a reason half the campus follows him around like lost puppies. He’s got charisma or… something.”

“Well, good for him,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Meanwhile, the rest of us are just trying to survive finals week without a parade every time we turn in a paper.”

Here’s the thing about you two: You’d like to think you’re invisible to the student body, but that’s only half true. You’re invisible. Beomgyu, on the other hand, is doing just fine socially. Not popular, but just cool enough to get invited to parties and group chats. And yet, here he was, sticking to you like glue.

He calls it loyalty. You call it his inability to let go. Not that you minded. You loved him as much as he loved you.

Listen, you weren’t considered lame. You weren’t “unpopular”. You just… never stood out. Regular clothes. Regular reputation. Just… regular. It didn’t bother you most of the time. But when you stood next to Beomgyu—who, on his worst day, could still charm an entire room—it was hard not to feel like his boring sidekick.

“You know what your problem is?” Beomgyu asked suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm, let me guess,” you said dryly. “I don’t appreciate Yeonjun enough?”

“Well, yeah, but also, you don’t try to stand out. Like, at all. Maybe if you wore something other than jeans and that same hoodie every day—”

“It’s comfortable,” you snapped, defensively tugging at your hoodie.

“Comfortable doesn’t get you noticed,” Beomgyu countered, skipping ahead of you and turning to walk backward so he could wag his finger at you. “Look, you’re pretty but you’re always–”

“Gyu. I don’t want to be noticed,” you muttered, but your protest was drowned out by a sudden loud cheer coming from the quad.

Both of you turned instinctively. Of course, it was Yeonjun again, grinning like a celebrity as someone snapped a picture of him doing… I don’t know, something amazing. He could probably sneeze and get a standing ovation.

Beomgyu sighed dramatically. “Dude, just look at him”

You groaned and kept walking. “Let’s just get back to the apartment before you write him a fan letter.”

Beomgyu chuckled but didn’t argue.

—

“Crap.”

The word slipped out of your mouth before you could stop it. Beomgyu, who had been sprawled across the couch scrolling on his phone, glanced over at you with a raised brow.

“What’s your problem?” he asked, not even bothering to sit up.

“I think…” you trailed off, your face already flushing with embarrassment. “Ugh. I think I just got my period.”

Beomgyu blinked at you for a solid three seconds before casually returning his gaze to his phone. “So? Deal with it like you always do.”

“I can’t!” you snapped, flailing your arms. “I’m out of everything. Pads. Tampons. Literally everything.”

“Okay…?” He looked at you blankly, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation.

“Okay? Beomgyu, this is an emergency. We need to go to the convenience store. Now.”

“We?” he repeated, his voice laced with protest. “Why do I have to come? You can go by yourself. You’re a fully functioning human with feet and hands.”

You shot him a glare, “Because I don’t want to walk there alone in the middle of the night, and you’re supposed to be my best friend. Remember? Loyalty and all that BS.”

He groaned dramatically, dragging his hands down his face. “This is not what I signed up for..”

“Oh, please. Like you’re doing anything important.” You gestured to his phone. “Come on, Beomgyu. You’re being useless, as always.”

“That’s Mr. Useless to you,” he grumbled, but he finally sat up, grabbing his jacket off the armrest. “Fine. Let’s go. But I’m not carrying anything embarrassing.”

“You’re carrying the basket,” you said, already grabbing your own jacket.

“What—? Hey! No way! You’re just gonna fill it up with feminine products and egh…”

The walk to the convenience store wasn’t too long, but Beomgyu made sure to complain the entire way.

“Why can’t you just stockpile this stuff like a normal person?” he whined, dragging his feet as you power-walked ahead of him.

“Why can’t you just shut up and help me?” you shot back.

The fluorescent lights of the convenience store were a welcome relief. You beelined for the feminine products aisle while Beomgyu lingered by the snacks, pretending he wasn’t with you.

“CHOI BEOMGYU!” You called him over. 

He looked up as if embarrassed to be around you, “Don’t use my maiden name in public like this!”

“Hurry up!” you called over your shoulder.

He reluctantly shuffled over, standing awkwardly next to you as you scanned the shelves. “Do you really need me for this?”

“Yes, because if I faint from blood loss, someone needs to carry me out,” you said dramatically, grabbing a pack of pads and throwing it into his arms.

He caught it, holding it like it was a live grenade. “Why am I holding this?”

“Because you’re the basket now,” you said, grabbing another pack just in case.

“Oh my god, wait—why is this, like, 16 inches?” Beomgyu asked, holding up a pack of pads like it was radioactive. His eyes were wide with genuine horror. “How big is your vagina?”

You shot him a deadpan look. “I don’t see you complaining when you’re telling me stories about you and your girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend!” he corrected, practically shouting. “And I told you not to bring her up.”

“Oh, please. You’ll be calling her tomorrow, begging her to take you back. Like you always do.”

“I’ve matured since our breakup,” he insisted, puffing out his chest in mock dignity.

“You broke up yesterday.”

Beomgyu sighed dramatically, letting his arms go limp, the packs of feminine products dangling helplessly. “I don’t get paid enough for this friendship.”

“You don’t get paid at all,” you reminded him, already walking toward the register.

“And that is the problem,” he muttered under his breath, trailing after you with the enthusiasm of a kid being dragged to the dentist.

At the register, the cashier barely blinked at the assortment of items Beomgyu dumped onto the counter, but he was already bracing himself for humiliation.

“Don’t say anything,” he whispered to you through gritted teeth as the cashier scanned the pads.

“I wasn’t going to,” you replied innocently, though you couldn’t hide the smirk tugging at your lips.

Beomgyu glared at you, clearly regretting every decision that had led him to this moment.

As the cashier handed over the bag, Beomgyu grabbed it like he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. “Let’s go. Now.”

The walk back was surprisingly quiet—at least until Beomgyu couldn’t keep his mouth shut anymore.

“You know,” he said, breaking the silence, “I feel like I’ve just leveled up as a person. Like, this is a huge character development for me. I should probably put ‘Women’s Rights Activist’ on my Tinder profile.”

You snorted, shifting the bag in your arms. “Right…because you didn’t just complain the whole time we were in there.”

“I’ve changed…I am in fact the world’s best Female Supporter. Write that down.” he declared, nudging your shoulder.

“You’re not right but not wrong either,” you said dryly, rolling your eyes. “But don’t flatter yourself too much. You’re just barely tolerable to the female specimen.”

“Admit that I’m an amazing best friend though,” he said, flashing you a grin. “You’d be lost without me.”

“You’re right,” you conceded, smirking as you turned the corner toward your apartment complex. “Who else would I drag into my nonsense?”

He threw his arms out dramatically, like some tragic hero in a play. “Exactly. I’m basically a saint. Carrying the weight of this friendship on my—”

He froze mid-sentence, and you almost bumped into him.

“Can’t you see where you’re going, you noob?” you groaned, peeking around him—and stopped dead in your tracks.

Right there, sprawled across the pavement in front of the building like a very poorly placed mannequin, was none other than Yeonjun, the school’s King himself.

“Is… is he dead?” Beomgyu whispered, clutching your arm in a panic.

“Why would you say that?!” you hissed, smacking his hand away.

“He’s not moving! Look at him!”

And he wasn’t. Yeonjun, campus royalty and the undisputed king of cool, was lying face down in the middle of the pathway. His designer sneakers were scuffed, his shirt was wrinkled, and his golden hair was sticking up in about twenty different directions.

“We should call someone,” you muttered, reaching for your phone.

Before you could dial, Yeonjun stirred, groaning like something out of a zombie movie. Beomgyu yelped and practically jumped behind you.

“He’s alive!” Beomgyu whisper-shouted, like that made things any less terrifying.

“Barely, he’s drunk like hell.” you muttered.

And then it happened. Yeonjun pushed himself up on shaky arms, blinked at you both with bleary, unfocused eyes… and promptly threw up all over the pavement.

Both of you screamed.

—

You knew Choi Beomgyu was going to be the death of you one day. He was too kind for his own good, and you were convinced that if an armed robber ever needed help, Beomgyu would probably assist them without realizing the situation. He was nice. Too nice.

“I still don’t see why we had to help him,” you muttered, crossing your arms as you leaned against the kitchen doorway.

“He was lying on the ground in the middle of the night,” Beomgyu said, grabbing a glass from the cupboard.

“And?” you countered. “Maybe his friends ditched him for a reason. Ever think about that? What if it’s some kind of prank?”

“It’s 12 AM, not exactly prank o’clock,” Beomgyu replied, filling the glass with water. “I’ll grab him some painkillers. Just keep an eye on him, okay?”

“Why do I have to stay with him? What if he wakes up and murders me?” you protested.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Beomgyu said with a roll of his eyes. “He’s barely conscious. Relax.”

And with that, Beomgyu disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you alone with the stranger.

You turned your gaze to Yeonjun, sprawled out on the couch like some tragic hero from a drama. His disheveled hair framed a face that was undeniably handsome, even with the faint scent of alcohol still lingering in the air. At least Beomgyu had cleaned him up and changed him out of his puke-soaked clothes into something fresh.

With hesitant steps, you approached him, unable to resist examining his face more closely. He looked peaceful like this, his breathing steady.

Then his eyes fluttered open.

You screamed, stumbling back.

“Whoa, whoa!” Yeonjun groaned, holding up a hand as if to shield himself from your outburst. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” you snapped, heart racing. “You’re the one who just woke up like a zombie in the middle of the night!”

Yeonjun winced, pressing a hand to his temple. “Can you not yell? Feels like my head’s splitting in two.”

You froze, unsure of what to do. Beomgyu had left you alone with this stranger, and now he was awake and talking. Great. 

“Where… am I?” Yeonjun croaked, his voice hoarse.

“Our apartment,” you replied curtly, motioning to the space around him. “You passed out on the street like an idiot. Beomgyu thought it’d be fun to drag you here instead of letting you rot out there like a normal person would.”

Yeonjun blinked, the name striking a faint chord in his alcohol-muddled mind. “Beomgyu?” he repeated, the syllables sluggish on his tongue.

“That’s me!” Beomgyu chimed as he entered the room, balancing a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of painkillers in the other. He grinned at Yeonjun, his usual sunny demeanor unbothered by the tension. “Hey, glad you’re awake! Here, drink this.”

Yeonjun looked between the two of you, his confusion deepening. “Wait… you both found me on the floor of…where?”

“Yeah,” Beomgyu replied cheerfully, handing over the water and pills. “You were passed out outside the convenience store. We couldn’t just leave you there.”

“We could’ve,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at Beomgyu.

Beomgyu ignored you and focused on Yeonjun. “You didn’t look like you were in any shape to get home on your own, so we brought you here.”

Yeonjun hesitated, taking the glass of water with an awkward nod. “Thanks, I guess… but, uh, do I know you guys?”

“I’m Beomgyu,” Beomgyu answered, flashing a smile. He gestured toward you, introducing you. “Pretty sure we share a few classes.”

You gave a nonchalant shrug, clearly unimpressed.

Yeonjun squinted, his mind struggling to place you both. “Yeah, you do look kind of familiar…”

“Kind of?” you scoffed. “Unbelievable. You pass out drunk, and now you can’t even remember who dragged you off the sidewalk. Typical.”

“Don’t mind her,” Beomgyu said, brushing off your snarky tone. “She’s just cranky because it’s past her bedtime.”

You shot him a glare. “Cranky because you invited a total stranger into our apartment without asking. Much less one that reeks of alcohol.”

Yeonjun, still processing everything, shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “So… this is your apartment? Like, you two live together?”

“Obviously,” you replied. “Welcome to our apartment. We’re kind of like Good Samaritans. Except I’m not.”

Yeonjun let out a weak laugh, unsure if he should be offended or amused. “Well, uh… thanks, I guess. I owe you one?”

“You owe me nothing,” you said with a smirk. “But you owe Beomgyu. Big time.”

Beomgyu chuckled, waving off the comment. “Just rest for now. Drink the water and take the painkillers. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

Yeonjun nodded, sipping the water slowly. He couldn’t help but notice the way Beomgyu’s easy-going warmth contrasted sharply with your sharp tongue. Despite the headache and the awkward situation, a strange comfort crept into his chest.

“I’ll try to remember this,” Yeonjun muttered with a faint smile.

“You better,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Because if this happens again, I’m leaving you on the sidewalk next time.”

Beomgyu just laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t listen to her. She acts tough, but she’s nice deep down.”

“Deep, deep down,” you corrected.

Yeonjun chuckled despite himself. He had no idea how he ended up here, but something told him this wasn’t going to be the last time he saw the two of you.

You had gone to bed, hoping the night would pass quickly so you could finally deal with the unexpected guest in your living room. Helping people wasn’t the issue—you just hated helping those who didn’t seem to need it. Besides the fact he was piss drunk in the middle of the night after what seems like a frat party…seems like a life choice. 

But sleep wouldn’t come. You’d been tossing and turning for over an hour, and Beomgyu’s loud snores echoed through the paper-thin walls of your apartment. With a groan of frustration, you gave up and decided to warm some milk, an old remedy that usually worked.

As you shuffled toward the kitchen, you noticed Yeonjun sitting on the couch, hunched over his phone, scrolling aimlessly. You hesitated, torn between retreating to avoid interaction or saying something. Socializing wasn’t exactly your strong suit, and starting a conversation felt like scaling a mountain.

Before you could decide, Yeonjun broke the silence.

“What do girls mean when they say they want a break?” he asked, turning to look at you.

Caught off guard, you paused mid-step, clutching the mug in your hand. For a moment, you considered ignoring the question entirely. But the earnest look in his eyes made it hard to brush him off.

You sighed, setting your mug on the counter as you leaned against the kitchen doorway. "That’s... a loaded question," you replied cautiously, eyeing him. "Depends on the girl, I guess. What’s the context?"

Yeonjun let out a soft, bitter laugh and ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in messy tufts. "My girlfriend said she needed a break. No explanation, no real reason. Just… ‘I think we should take a break.’ What’s that even supposed to mean?"

You tilted your head, considering his words. "Could mean a lot of things," you said, grabbing the carton of milk from the fridge. "Maybe she’s overwhelmed. Maybe she’s bored. Or maybe she wants to break up but doesn’t want to say it outright."

His face fell, and you immediately regretted the bluntness.

"Sorry," you added quickly, pouring the milk into your mug. "I didn’t mean to sound harsh. It’s just… it’s better to be honest about what it could mean, right?"

Yeonjun leaned back against the couch, his phone forgotten in his lap. "Yeah, I guess. But I don’t get it. I thought everything was fine between us. We didn’t even fight. It came out of nowhere."

You turned on the stove, the faint hum of the burner filling the silence as you stirred the milk absently. "Sometimes it’s not about fighting," you said after a pause. "Sometimes people just… drift. Or they need time to figure things out. Doesn’t mean it’s your fault."

He stared at the ceiling, his jaw tightening. "It feels like it is, though. Like maybe I wasn’t enough."

You frowned, feeling an unfamiliar pang of sympathy. This wasn’t your usual realm of expertise, but seeing him so dejected tugged at something in you.

"You know," you started, glancing at him, "if she really cares about you, she’ll come back. And if she doesn’t, well… maybe she wasn’t the right person anyway."

Yeonjun turned his head to look at you, a faint, almost sad smile playing on his lips. "You sound like you’ve been through this before."

You snorted, turning back to your milk. "Not at all. I’m just good at reading people. Comes with the territory of being socially inept."

That earned you a soft chuckle, and the sound surprised you. It was the first time he’d laughed all night.

"Thanks," he said after a moment, his voice quieter. "For not sugarcoating it."

You shrugged, pulling the mug off the burner and pouring the warm milk into your cup. "Anytime. But don’t expect me to turn into a therapist or anything."

He nodded, his smile growing a little stronger. "Got it. No therapy sessions… just unsolicited midnight wisdom."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at your lips.

“You want some?” you asked, pouring another glass of warm milk.

Yeonjun nodded, leaning back against the couch. “If you’d let me.”

“I asked, didn’t I?” You slid the glass toward him, the faint clink breaking the quiet.

He smiled as he took it. “Thanks. You know, now that I’m more sober, you’re actually a lot less scary than I thought.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Scary? You thought I was scary?”

“Well,” he began, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips, “I was drunk, passed out, and your initial idea was to leave me on the street.”

You shrugged, unfazed. “The drunk thing seems to be on your own accord, so… not really my problem if you ended up like that, now is it?”

Yeonjun chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re brutally honest, aren’t you?”

“Only to people who can take it.”

“And you think I can?”

“People are probably telling you every day how much they love you or want to be with you,” you said, your tone matter-of-fact. “I figure you can handle a couple of reality checks once in a while.”

Yeonjun blinked, then smirked. “Oh, so you pay attention to me?”

“It’s literally hard not to,” you retorted, crossing your arms. “You’ve got a whole posse everyone looks up to on campus. You’re kind of hard to miss.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on his knee. “Huh. And here I thought I was invisible to you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not invisible, just… irrelevant. Until now.”

He laughed at that, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Wow. You really don’t hold back, do you?”

“Why would I? You asked.” You sipped your milk nonchalantly, but you couldn’t help noticing the glimmer of genuine amusement in his gaze.

“Well,” he said, raising his glass in a mock toast, “here’s to being ‘less irrelevant.’”

You huffed out a quiet laugh despite yourself. “Don’t push your luck.”

“And if it counts for something,” Yeonjun added, his tone softening, “I really liked your speech last term. The one at the student rally—about climate change?”

You froze mid-sip, staring at him. “What?”

“It was you, right?” he pressed, tilting his head slightly. “You organized the whole thing?”

Your mind raced. No one had ever given you credit for the rally before. Most people either didn’t notice or assumed someone else was behind it. It wasn’t that you did it for recognition, but hearing Yeonjun bring it up left you momentarily speechless.

“Yeah,” you said finally, setting your mug down. “That was me.”

Yeonjun nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “I thought so. It was really good. You had everyone paying attention, and I don’t just mean your speech. The whole event—it felt… important. You made it feel important.”

You blinked, unsure how to respond. Compliments, especially about something you’d poured so much effort into, weren’t exactly something you were used to.

“Well,” you mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant, “it’s not like I did it alone. There was a team.”

“Sure,” he said, his smile widening slightly, “but teams still need someone to lead them. And that was you, wasn’t it?”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, the usual sarcasm you armed yourself with felt unnecessary.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, your voice softer than usual. “That means… something.”

Yeonjun studied you for a moment before his smirk returned. “See? You’re not as scary as you think.”

You rolled your eyes, but this time, the gesture felt lighter. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late,” he teased, raising his glass to take another sip of the milk. “I think I might be warming up to you.”

You huffed, shaking your head as you turned back toward the kitchen. “Good luck with that.”

—

The next morning, when you woke up, Yeonjun was already gone. On the coffee table, he’d left a note and, for some reason, a $10 bill. You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto your face. You weren’t running a hostel, that was for sure.

Beomgyu wandered into the living room, rubbing his eyes, and picked up the note. “Ten bucks?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Does he think we’re a bed and breakfast for broke drunk kids? Also, why couldn’t it be a twenty?”

“What a switch-up from the ass-kisser last night,” you teased, grabbing the note from his hand.

“I couldn’t taint my image in front of campus royalty himself,” Beomgyu shot back, clutching his chest dramatically.

“Oh, shut up,” you said, already heading toward the bathroom. “We’re gonna be late if you don’t get your ass ready.”

As Beomgyu disappeared to get dressed, you glanced at the note again.

Thanks for the milk and the reality check. Maybe see you both on campus sometime?

It was signed with a small doodle of a smiley face, and you couldn’t help but shake your head. 

Later that day, as you rushed through the crowded hallways of campus, you spotted Yeonjun. He was surrounded by his usual group, his laugh ringing out above the chatter. For a moment, his eyes met yours across the sea of students. He nodded before turning away.

Typical. 

You knew nothing would be different. One night and a single conversation didn’t change anything, especially with someone like Yeonjun. It wasn’t as if his whole life hinged on that brief interaction. You and Beomgyu took your usual seats in the corner of the campus café, bantering like you always did.

You were mid-laugh at one of Beomgyu’s dramatic impressions when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you found yourself face-to-face with Yeonjun.

“Hey!” he said, his smile easy and confident, like he’d done this a hundred times before.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Uh, hey?”

Beomgyu arched an eyebrow, looking between the two of you. “Royalty graces us with his presence,” he quipped under his breath, loud enough for only you to hear.

Yeonjun chuckled, clearly unbothered. “Mind if I join you guys for a bit?”

“Sure,” you said before Beomgyu could say something snarky. You gestured to the empty chair across from you.

Yeonjun slid into the seat, setting down his bag. “So, I’ve been thinking about last night.”

“Oh no,” Beomgyu muttered dramatically, earning a light kick under the table from you.

Yeonjun grinned but stayed focused on you. “You were right.”

“About what?” you asked, genuinely puzzled.

“About the reality check,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “You said people tell me what I want to hear all the time, and... yeah, you weren’t wrong. It’s refreshing to hear someone call me out instead of sugarcoating everything.”

You shrugged, unsure how to respond. “I wasn’t trying to give you some big epiphany. Just speaking the truth.”

“And I appreciated it,” Yeonjun said. “I’m not here to make it weird or anything. I just... wanted to say thanks. Also, you guys were a lot cooler about the whole drunk mess thing than most people would’ve been.”

“See?” Beomgyu piped up, smirking. “I am cool.”

Yeonjun laughed, and for a moment, the usual air of aloofness that seemed to follow him was gone.

“Well, if you want to thank us,” you said, crossing your arms, “you could’ve at least left twenty bucks instead of ten.”

Yeonjun raised his hands in mock surrender. “Noted for next time.”

“Next time?” Beomgyu echoed, feigning horror.

Yeonjun shrugged, his grin widening. “What can I say? You guys might be growing on me.” Although his eyes were lingering on yours when he said the latter.

You rolled your eyes, but even you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. Maybe, just maybe, one night could change more than you thought.

“Well, I’ll catch up with you later!” Yeonjun said with a wave before getting up and walking off.

You watched him go, and as soon as he was out of earshot, Beomgyu leaned over and poked your cheek with a mischievous grin.

“Ooooh, someone’s got a crush,” he teased.

“No, I don’t,” you shot back, swatting his hand away.

“Your ears are all red just from looking at him,” Beomgyu continued, undeterred.

“Oh, shut up. I just think he’s an okay person, that’s all,” you muttered, feeling the heat on your cheeks.

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Sure, okay. Whatever you say.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying you with a playful smirk. “So what the hell happened last night while I was asleep anyway?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “We just talked. That’s it. Besides, he has a girlfriend or whatever.”

Beomgyu’s grin widened. “So you’re one of those kiss-and-don’t-tell types of people?”

“For the love of god, shut up,” you groaned, shoving a donut into his mouth to stop him from saying more.

He chewed, still grinning, but thankfully kept his comments to himself. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit of relief. The whole situation felt like a weird blur, but it wasn’t like you owed anyone explanations—least of all Beomgyu, who always had something to say.

“I’m just saying,” Beomgyu mumbled around the donut, “You’re not fooling anyone.”

You crossed your arms, giving him a pointed look. “If I say it’s nothing, then it’s nothing.”

Beomgyu grinned, clearly not convinced, but dropped the subject for now. "Whatever, you're still blushing."

“Shut up, Beomgyu,” you muttered again, but this time, you couldn’t quite stop the smile that tugged at your lips.

Beomgyu stood up, giving you a playful nudge. “You know, if you wanted to talk more about Yeonjun, I’m all ears. I won’t tell anyone. Promise.”

You shot him a look, then grabbed your bag, shoving it over your shoulder. “I’m not talking about him. Ever. End of story.”

Beomgyu chuckled, following you out of the café. “Sure, sure. We’ll see about that.”

—

It was one of those rare times when Beomgyu wasn’t glued to your side. Usually, he was either at band practice, you were holed up in the library, or both. So, here you were, typing away at your thesis, getting lost in your thoughts, when you felt the chair next to you squeak as someone sat down. Not that you cared; the library was always packed on a Friday evening.

“Hey!”

You looked up to find Yeonjun grinning at you, his smile nearly infectious.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I saw Beomgyu, and he told me you’d be here. Looks like he knows you super well!”

You blinked in surprise, not quite sure how to react. The last time you saw him, things were casual, but this felt a bit more… personal? You adjusted in your seat, offering a small, polite smile.

“Oh, uh, yeah. He knows me better than I’d like to admit,” you said, feeling a bit awkward.

Yeonjun chuckled, his eyes still sparkling. “He said you’d be buried in work. You really take your studies seriously, huh?”

You shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. “I mean, I have to. It’s due soon.”

“I get that,” Yeonjun said, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed smile. “I’m actually impressed you’re still here. I would’ve bailed a while ago.”

“I’m just used to it,” you replied, glancing back at your screen. “I’ve got to finish this.”

The conversation lapsed into a quiet hum until you looked up at him, confused. “W... why were you looking for me? Do you need something?”

“Oh, I just… had fun talking to you the other night,” Yeonjun said casually, as if asking you out wasn’t the most difficult thing in the world. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner after this.”

He smiled, that damn perfect smile that made your heart skip a beat. You were caught off guard. You’d thought what happened the other night was just a one-time thing. You didn’t expect an actual friendship—or more—to come out of it.

“You want to have dinner with me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Alone?”

Yeonjun leaned back in his chair, looking at you with a playful glint in his eyes. “Are you gonna murder me?”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “No, I’m not gonna murder you.”

He cracked a smile. “Then yeah. I do. I think dinner with you sounds pretty good.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to read the situation. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy his company; it was more the suddenness of it all. But something about the way he asked—like it was a simple, natural thing—made you pause. Maybe you were overthinking it.

“Alright,” you said with a shrug, trying to sound casual. “I just have a couple of pages left. You can just…do something else first while you wait. I don’t want to bore you.”

“No, I’ll wait.” He smiled, resting his head in his arms on the table, turning to face you with a bright grin on his face.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing up at him. “You’re just gonna stare at me for the next hour or so?”

“Yeonjun smirked, his gaze never leaving you. “I don’t mind. You’re much more interesting than any textbook.”

You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm slightly, but you kept your cool. “Is that so?”

He nodded.

You ignored him, focusing on your work, trying to push back the heat creeping up on your cheeks. You hoped he couldn't tell just how nervous you were with him sitting right next to you.

How were you even supposed to react? The only guy you ever hung out with was Beomgyu, and the two of you couldn’t be more platonic if you tried.

“Hey, so like, are the two of you dating?” Yeonjun asked, breaking the silence.

You looked up from your paper, staring at Yeonjun for a moment before bursting out laughing. “Me and Beomgyu? No? No. That’s gross. No. No. Never.”

“That’s a mildly offensive reaction that I will not tell Beomgyu about.”

“Oh, trust me, he’d give you the same response if you asked him.”

Yeonjun chuckled. “You two just seem attached at the hip.”

“Well, he’s my only friend, and somehow he’s clingier to me than I am to him. I don’t know why.”

“It could be because you’re really great company.”

“Oh, who else would think that?”

“Me?”

“We’ve had one conversation—”

“Two,” he corrected, grinning.

“Two conversations,” you repeated, rolling your eyes.

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly closer. “I don’t know… I think we’re off to a solid start. Besides, it’s rare I actually enjoy talking to someone this much.”

You glanced at him, then smirked. “You seem to have the whole school at your feet. I’m pretty sure you could find someone if you just threw a fish hook out there.”

“Well… they’re not as blunt as you.”

“Do you not have anyone telling you the truth to your face?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I do. My best friends. Soobin, I don’t know if you know him.”

“The tall one who does girl group dances on TikTok?” You chuckled, remembering the viral clips.

Yeonjun laughed, nodding. “Yeah. He’s great, but sometimes, you know, I don’t want him to worry too much. He treats me like his own child sometimes. It’s weird, especially since I’m older.”

You laughed softly at that. “I mean, I get it. Sometimes, friends can be overprotective, even when they don’t need to be.”

“Exactly,” he said, his tone a little more serious now. “But I guess it’s nice to have someone looking out for you.” He paused, giving you a sidelong glance. “Even if it gets a little annoying.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I get that. Sometimes people just want the best for you, even if it’s a little over the top.”

“Like you and Beomgyu,” Yeonjun said with a teasing grin.

“Are you sure the two of you aren’t a thing?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Positive.”

“Really?” Yeonjun sounded surprised.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “He’s just the only person who gets me.”

The conversation lingered in the air for a moment, and you returned to your work, but this time it felt a little less overwhelming, the atmosphere more relaxed. Maybe this wasn’t so weird after all.

—

At dinner, the atmosphere was calm at first, with you both eating in relative silence. Then, suddenly, Yeonjun slammed his chopsticks down on the napkin, causing you to jump, wide-eyed, and look up at him.

“I want what you and Beomgyu have!” he declared, his voice loud enough to catch the attention of a few nearby tables.

You blinked in confusion. “We have nothing.”

“Precisely,” he said with a sigh, leaning back in his seat. He looked both frustrated and thoughtful. “You remember the girl I told you about? My girlfriend—well, ex, I guess.”

You nodded slowly, unsure of where this conversation was going.

“We’ve been together for two years,” Yeonjun continued, running a hand through his hair. “And lately, I’ve started to realize... maybe I’ve just been keeping her around for comfort.”

You paused, taking in his words. The sincerity in his voice was clear, and it made you reflect on what he was saying. "What do you mean?" you asked carefully.

Yeonjun sighed again, the weight of his thoughts showing. “I don’t think I’m in love with her anymore. At least, not the way I should be. It’s like I’ve been holding on because it’s easy, because it’s familiar. And now... I don’t even know if that’s enough anymore.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to process what he was admitting. “That sounds tough. But... maybe it’s better to face that now, rather than later.”

“Yeah, I know. I just don’t know what to do about it,” he said, his tone mixed with frustration and uncertainty.

“Sometimes you don’t have to have everything figured out right away. It’s okay to take a step back and think about what you really want. You can’t just keep holding on to something for the sake of comfort.” You spoke slowly, feeling the weight of your own words as they fell between you two.

Yeonjun nodded, though his expression remained conflicted. "I don’t want to hurt her, but I also don’t want to keep pretending. I don't want to be stuck in something out of habit."

You nodded, understanding where he was coming from. "But didn’t she ask for a break?”

“She usually does that to get my attention.” 

“That sounds not at all toxic.” you laughed.

Yeonjun let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know, it’s not healthy. But every time she does that, I feel like I’m losing her. It’s like I’m always on the edge of something—whether it’s fixing things or making them worse.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning in a bit. “So, it’s the constant cycle of drama keeping you in the relationship? Feels like a never-ending loop.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, pretty much. It's exhausting. But when it’s good, it’s really good, and I guess I keep thinking maybe we’ll get back to that.”

“But that’s the problem, right?” you said softly, your voice gentle but firm. “You’re holding onto the highs because you're afraid of letting go of the lows. But in the end, it’s the pattern that’s unhealthy, not just the relationship itself.”

Yeonjun nodded, the weight of your words sinking in. “I’ve been trying to avoid facing that. It's easier to stay in something familiar than to face the unknown, even if it means staying in a cycle that doesn’t make me happy anymore.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, giving him a knowing look. “It’s scary to let go, especially when you’ve been holding onto something for so long. But sometimes, letting go is the only way forward.”

The conversation lulled once again. You kept your eyes firmly on your plate, despite feeling his gaze on you. His persistence was relentless, especially with that sweet, almost oblivious smile he kept throwing your way.

Geez, it’s like he doesn’t know how cutehe is, you thought, rolling your eyes at yourself.

“Hey,” Yeonjun’s voice broke through your thoughts, soft yet curious. “Did you mean it when you said you’ve never had a boyfriend?”

You nodded nonchalantly, shoving some rice into your mouth. “Yeah.”

“That’s surprising.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How so? I thought it was pretty obvious.” You chuckled, brushing it off with another bite.

“Well, it’s just...you’re so pretty.”

His words hit like a rogue wave. You inhaled sharply, immediately regretting it as the rice caught in your throat. You choked and coughed violently, tears springing to your eyes. Yeonjun froze, wide-eyed.

“Oh my God! Are you okay?!” He reached out, panicking as you thumped your chest, struggling to breathe.

“Water—” you croaked, pointing desperately.

He fumbled for the glass in front of you, but in his haste, managed to knock it over, sending the liquid cascading across the table. Both of you stared at the spreading mess before he scrambled for napkins.

“Seriously?!” you managed to rasp, still half-choking.

“I panicked!” he shot back, dabbing at the table like his life depended on it.

Finally catching your breath, you glared at him, tears streaming down your cheeks from the ordeal. “This—this is your fault!”

He raised his hands defensively, his expression guilt-ridden, before breaking into a sheepish grin. “How is this my fault?!”

You shook your head, not wanting to admit that his words had thrown you completely off guard.

“What? Has no one called you pretty before?” he joked, his tone light and teasing.

You froze, the teasing suddenly landing in a spot you weren’t ready to acknowledge. You looked at him quietly, lips pressing together in a thin line, before turning your gaze away.

His grin faltered, replaced by a soft curiosity. “You’ve…never been called that before?”

“And why would anyone ever call me that?” you said, rolling your eyes in an attempt to deflect, but the slight edge in your voice betrayed you.

“Because you are,” he said simply, his tone devoid of the usual playfulness. “I’ve always thought so.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “You’ve always thought so?” you echoed, skeptical.

“Well, yeah.” He shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Since the first time I saw you. You just don’t seem to realize it, which is kind of insane.”

Your face warmed, and you tried to mask it with a sarcastic laugh. “Right, and I suppose this is the part where I swoon over you and your grand compliments? Oh great Yeonjun, do sprinkle me with some more compliments!”

Yeonjun chuckled, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “You can swoon later. For now, I’ll just take the victory of seeing you blush.”

“I’m not blushing,” you retorted, pushing your plate away dramatically.

“Sure, sure,” he said, smirking as he sat back. “Let’s just say you win this argument because I’ve won something else tonight.”

You stared at him, incredulous, before bursting into laughter. “And what is that?”

“An image of you choking on rice.,” he quipped, his grin widening.

“You’re an idiot.” You shook your head, unable to fight the smile tugging at your lips. 

—

Days passed, and before you knew it, Yeonjun started showing up during lunch, casually plopping himself down next to you and Beomgyu like it was the most natural thing in the world. At first, Beomgyu gave him suspicious side-eyes, but Yeonjun’s easy charm wore him down.

Soon enough, Yeonjun began bringing his friend Soobin along. Quiet at first, Soobin would sit awkwardly beside Yeonjun, nibbling on his food while the rest of you chatted. But it didn’t take long for Beomgyu to drag Soobin into his whirlwind of jokes and antics, and suddenly the four of you were a group.

Once or twice a week, the four of you would find yourselves huddled together during lunch or after school, trading stories, cracking jokes, or, in Beomgyu’s case, plotting unnecessarily dramatic ways to prank unsuspecting classmates.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but the dynamic had shifted. What was once just you and Beomgyu had expanded into something bigger—and, maybe, better.

“I can’t believe it’s not just the two of us anymore,” you muttered to Beomgyu one afternoon as you watched Yeonjun and Soobin argue over who was better at Mario Kart.

Beomgyu smirked, leaning back against the cafeteria bench. “Oh, come on, you’re having fun. Just admit it.”

“I was perfectly content with it being just us,” you said, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “But… it doesn’t suck having them around too.”

“Yeah, it’s the first time I’ve seen a duo as chaotic as us,” Beomgyu said, motioning toward Yeonjun, who was dramatically accusing Soobin of cheating.

Soobin, clearly exasperated, shoved Yeonjun lightly. “How do you even cheat at Mario Kart? It’s literally luck!”

“You took all the item boxes!” Yeonjun shot back, crossing his arms in mock betrayal.

“Wow,” Beomgyu said, shaking his head with feigned seriousness. “And I thought we were immature.”

“Y’know we can hear you two, right?” Soobin rolled his eyes.

“Kinda counting on it,” you replied with a shrug, sliding onto the bench between Soobin and Yeonjun. “Now, enough. I don’t need the two of you to end up throwing popcorn around like last night.”

“We picked it up straight after,” Soobin defended himself.

“I found two stray kernels behind the couch yesterday,” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you, giving Soobin a playful shove on the arm. "Two. Stray. Popcorn pieces. I rest my case."

Soobin groaned dramatically, holding his hands up in surrender. “Fine, I’m guilty. But next time, I’ll make sure Yeonjun eats all the evidence.”

“Me?” Yeonjun exclaimed, looking offended. “Why me?”

“Because you’re the one who knocked the bowl over in the first place!”

As the three of you bickered, Yeonjun’s gaze shifted for a moment. He noticed the way you laughed at Soobin’s retort, your head tilted slightly as you leaned closer to him. And when Soobin smirked and flicked your shoulder in retaliation, Yeonjun caught the glimmer of fondness in your eyes.

A thought crept into his mind, unbidden and unwelcome: Do they like each other?

He shook his head slightly, trying to push it away. But the more he observed, the harder it was to ignore. Your casual ease around Soobin, the way you teased him without hesitation, and the soft way Soobin seemed to glance at you when he thought no one else was looking—it all painted a picture Yeonjun couldn’t ignore.

“Earth to Yeonjun,” Beomgyu’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” Yeonjun blinked, realizing everyone was now staring at him.

“You’ve been spacing out for a solid minute,” Beomgyu teased, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing,” Yeonjun said quickly, plastering on a smile. “I was just thinking about… Mario Kart strategies.”

Soobin snorted. “Sure you were.”

Yeonjun’s smile faltered slightly, but he forced himself to focus on the moment instead of the nagging thoughts in his head. If there was something between you and Soobin, he’d figure it out eventually—or, at the very least, stop thinking about it so much. Or so he hoped. In fact, he didn’t even know why that thought bothered him.

—

You glanced at your watch, then scanned the area for your friends, who were now ten minutes late. Weird, you thought. Sure, they were always late, but for lunch? Never. You were just about to call Beomgyu when his text came through: Gonna be a bit late, sorry! Not long after, Soobin messaged the same thing.

You sighed, already bracing for a solo lunch when a pair of hands suddenly grabbed your shoulders from behind.

“Boo!”

You screamed out of reflex, jerking forward and nearly tripping, only for Yeonjun to catch you by the arms. For a moment, you were staring directly into his eyes, close enough to see the tiny flecks of brown in them. Your face heated up as you pushed him away.

“You—you little shit!” you shouted, your voice louder than you intended. “You scared me!”

Yeonjun burst into laughter, throwing his head back. “Oh, come on, that was barely a scare!”

“Don’t do that!” You smacked his chest lightly, half-annoyed, half-flustered.

Still grinning, Yeonjun checked his phone. “Looks like it’s just the two of us for lunch today.”

“Oh dear god, save me,” you groaned dramatically.

He laughed again, grabbing your arm and pulling you toward the canteen. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It'll be fun. Let’s go!”

To be honest, you still felt a little awkward hanging out with Yeonjun alone. You couldn’t stand the attention the two of you seemed to attract. With Soobin and Beomgyu around, there was always someone to deflect the focus, but being alone with someone as popular as Yeonjun was... exhausting.

Every few minutes, a girl would walk up to make a casual pass at him, twirling her hair or giggling at whatever he said, while Yeonjun just smiled politely. If it wasn’t a girl, it was some frat bro bounding over with a fist bump and a loud, “Dude, it’s been forever!”

It was tiring.

You sat across from Yeonjun, trying to focus on your lunch while he chatted casually, seemingly unbothered by the interruptions. When yet another girl sidled up to your table with a too-sweet smile and a “Hi, Yeonjun~,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

When she finally left, you leaned forward and deadpanned, “Is this what your life is like every day? Because I think I’d rather die.”

Yeonjun chuckled, resting his chin in his hand. “Pretty much. Jealous?”

“Not in the slightest,” you shot back, stabbing a piece of chicken with your fork. “I don’t know how you deal with it.”

“Well,” he said, smirking, “having lunch with you is definitely the highlight. You don’t try to flirt with me.”

You choked on your water at his words, coughing violently.

“Are you okay?!” Yeonjun asked, wide-eyed as he handed you a napkin.

“I’m fine,” you wheezed, glaring at him through teary eyes. “Stop saying things like that. You’re gonna kill me.”

Yeonjun just laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he leaned back in his chair. “See? Lunch with me is fun.”

“Sure. If it means being interrupted like a million times,” you sighed softly, taking another bite of your food.

“Though…” He paused, his gaze shifting toward you.

You looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Though what?”

“I did wish you would,” he said, his voice quieter now.

You tilted your head, confused. “Would what?”

“Never mind.” He waved it off quickly, shaking his head. “It’s stupid.”

“Dude…” You narrowed your eyes, now fully intrigued.

He hesitated for a moment, then let out a nervous chuckle. “I wish you would…flirt with me.”

Your fork clattered against your plate as you stared at him, stunned.

“Y’know,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, “I get it all the time from other people, but I don’t get it from the one girl who I think would actually be good at it.” He chuckled awkwardly, shaking his head. “It’s stupid, forget I said anything.”

“Why on earth would you think I’d be good at flirting?” you asked, baffled. “I’ve never done that in my entire life.”

Yeonjun smiled, soft and genuine. “Honestly? I think I’d like anything you said to me.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, you couldn’t form a reply.

“Oh crap, I forgot ketchup,” he said suddenly, standing up. “I’ll be back.”

And just like that, he walked away, leaving you sitting there in stunned silence. His words replayed in your mind—“I think I’d like anything you said to me.”

What was that supposed to mean? Was he just joking, or was there something more to it?

You picked at your food absentmindedly, your thoughts spinning. When Yeonjun returned with his ketchup, he was back to his usual cheerful self, as if he hadn’t just casually dropped that bombshell.

“So, what did I miss?” he asked, settling back into his seat.

“Absolutely nothing,” you replied quickly, avoiding his gaze. But deep down, you knew this lunch had changed something between you—and you weren’t sure how to feel about it.

–

Yeonjun paced his room, running a hand through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time. He couldn’t stop. His thoughts had been circling like a storm, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t find a way to calm the chaos.

What was this feeling?

He’d never felt like this before—this unrelenting, all-encompassing focus on someone. On you.

When he slept, he dreamed of you. When he woke up, you were the first thing on his mind. In class, during every lecture, every fleeting second, he found ways to connect everything back to you. A joke you’d made, the way you furrowed your brow when you were deep in thought, the way you smiled.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

He collapsed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. Was it your smile? Or maybe it was your silliness—the way you could laugh at yourself and make him laugh, too. Or perhaps it was your honesty. The way you didn’t sugarcoat things. You were real with him in a way no one else ever dared to be.

But then his chest tightened as another thought crept in. The idea of Soobin liking you—of you liking Soobin—it hurt.

It hurt more than it should.

And Beomgyu—Beomgyu knew you better than anyone else. That bond, that closeness. It twisted something in Yeonjun’s chest, a feeling he hated acknowledging.

The idea of anyone liking you, of anyone else being the person you chose, was unbearable.

He groaned, grabbing a pillow and pressing it over his face. What the hell was he supposed to do with these feelings?

He had to get rid of these feelings fast especially since he knew you didn’t feel a single thing for him. 

—

The bass of the music pulsed through Yeonjun’s body as he walked into the crowded house, a drink already being shoved into his hand by a friend he barely recognized. The room was alive with laughter, chatter, and the occasional shrill cheer as someone won at beer pong.

He should feel at home here. Normally, he thrived in this chaos, weaving his way through groups with a charming grin and a quick joke. Tonight, though, the party felt... off. But this was what he needed, right? To get over you.

Yeonjun scanned the room and spotted a girl standing by the bar, her hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She caught his eye and smiled, and for a moment, he let himself fall into autopilot.

“Hey,” he greeted smoothly, leaning casually against the counter. “Can I get you a drink?”

She giggled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Sure. What are you having?”

They exchanged playful banter as he poured her a drink, his usual charm kicking in effortlessly. She laughed at his jokes, leaning closer, and for a second, Yeonjun thought he was doing it—distracting himself, drowning out his thoughts of you.

But then she said something—he didn’t even register what—and her laugh didn’t sound like yours. Her smile didn’t light up her face the way yours did. Her words didn’t carry that teasing edge you always had when you talked to him.

And suddenly, it hit him.

He didn’t want her.

He wanted you.

His hand froze mid-air, the glass he was holding tipping slightly. The girl furrowed her brow, confused. “Are you okay?”

Yeonjun blinked, snapping back to the moment. “Yeah, uh, sorry,” he said quickly, setting the glass down and stepping back. “I just—I need to go.”

Without waiting for her response, he turned and pushed through the crowd, his chest tightening with every step. What the hell was he doing here?

He didn’t want some random girl at a party. He didn’t want to distract himself or pretend his feelings didn’t exist.

He wanted you.

And for the first time, he realized just how badly.

—

The four of you were gathered around your usual table at lunch, the cafeteria alive with chatter and clinking cutlery. You were in the middle of an impassioned rant about how your student rally had antis, your hands animatedly emphasizing every point.

“I mean, can you believe some people still think it’s not real? Like, the science is right there!” you exclaimed, your eyes wide with disbelief.

Yeonjun leaned forward slightly, his chin propped on his hand as he watched you with an almost dreamy expression. He wasn’t really hearing the details of what you were saying—he was too busy soaking in the way your eyes lit up, the determination in your voice, the little wrinkle between your brows when you were especially frustrated.

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow as he noticed Yeonjun’s expression but stayed silent for the moment.

“And don’t even get me started on corporations acting like individual recycling efforts are enough to fix the problem,” you continued, your voice filled with passion. “We need systemic change, not just—ugh, whatever.” You sighed, leaning back and crossing your arms, visibly exasperated.

“You’re so right,” Yeonjun said suddenly, his voice softer than usual, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You blinked at him, surprised. “Thank you?”

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you said a moment later, standing and grabbing your bag. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as you were out of earshot, Beomgyu leaned across the table, pointing a fry at Yeonjun. “Okay, what’s your deal?”

“What?” Yeonjun asked, startled, though the tips of his ears turned pink.

“You’ve been staring at her like she hung the moon,” Soobin chimed in, smirking as he sipped his drink. “It’s painfully obvious.”

Yeonjun tried to laugh it off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you know,” Beomgyu said, leaning closer, his grin mischievous. “You’re whipped. Admit it.”

Yeonjun groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Can you two not?”

“Dude, it’s fine,” Soobin said, laughing. “Just tell her already. This whole lovesick puppy thing is kind of embarrassing.”

Yeonjun peeked through his fingers, glaring at him. “She doesn’t feel that way about me, okay? So just drop it.”

Beomgyu and Soobin exchanged a look, their teasing smiles softening slightly.

“Well, she’s not going to know if you don’t tell her,” Beomgyu said after a moment, his voice unusually serious.

“Yeah,” Soobin added. “And honestly, she’d be lucky to have you.”

Yeonjun looked down at the table, his heart racing as he replayed the way you’d smiled while talking about something you cared so much about.

Maybe they were right. But the thought of risking your friendship still terrified him. Especially a friendship like yours.

—

The library was unusually quiet for a Wednesday afternoon, save for the occasional rustle of papers or the soft murmur of students whispering to one another. You and Yeonjun had claimed a table in the far corner, textbooks sprawled out in front of you as you both attempted to study. Well, you were attempting; Yeonjun was too busy doodling cartoonish faces on the corner of his notebook and cracking terrible jokes that somehow still managed to make you smile.

“Okay, but seriously, why do you write your notes like this?” he asked, pointing at your color-coded bullet points. “It’s like an art exhibit for highlighters.”

“Because it works,” you replied, swatting his hand away before he could smudge your meticulously written notes. “Maybe if you stopped doodling and actually read the material, you wouldn’t need to borrow my notes every time.”

“I’m a visual learner,” he said with a smirk. “I need diagrams, not words.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. Just as you were about to nudge him for his lack of effort, a shadow fell over your table.

“Hey, Yeonjun,” a girl said, her voice dripping with a mixture of shyness and flirtation. She held a notebook to her chest, her gaze flicking briefly to you before focusing solely on him. “I was wondering if you could help me with something from class.”

Yeonjun blinked, caught off guard. “Me? I’m the last person you should be asking.”

The girl leaned in a little too close, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, c’mon, it’d be fun~”

Your hand froze mid-note. You tried not to react, keeping your gaze fixed on your textbook, but the awkward tension was palpable. Yeonjun, to his credit, just laughed nervously and said, “You could always e-mail your professor,” before the girl finally left, albeit reluctantly.

You barely had time to process the encounter before another girl appeared five minutes later, giggling as she asked him to sign her notebook because it was “a good-luck charm.” Then came another, offering him a snack and batting her eyelashes so furiously you were surprised she could still see.

By the third interruption, you’d had enough. Not because you were angry, but because it was clear you couldn’t get any studying done with 100 girls coming up to get their way to him. You quietly stood, gathering your things. “I’ll give you some space,” you said lightly, trying to sound nonchalant. “Looks like you’ve got a fan club.”

Yeonjun’s head snapped up. “What? No, wait—” He grabbed your wrist before you could step away, his grip firm but gentle. His voice was louder this time, drawing the attention of the girls hovering nearby. “Actually, girls y’know what, I’d really appreciate it if everyone understood that I already have a girlfriend.”

Your eyes widened in shock as he turned to look at the group, a confident grin spreading across his face. 

One of the girls frowned. “Who?”

He pointed directly at you. “Her.”

You stared at him, absolutely floored. “Excuse me?” you whispered harshly.

Yeonjun only shrugged, leaning back in his chair like it was the most natural thing in the world. “What? It’s true. Well, kinda,” he muttered under his breath, low enough that only you could hear.

The girls exchanged looks, clearly skeptical but unwilling to press further. One by one, they walked away, their disappointed expressions oddly satisfying. Once they were gone, you yanked your arm free, glaring at him.

“What the hell was that?” you hissed, your cheeks burning.

Yeonjun grinned, completely unapologetic. “What? You were gonna leave me to fend for myself. I had to do something.”

“You couldn’t just say you weren’t interested like a normal person?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he said, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Besides, it worked, didn’t it?”

You groaned, sinking back into your chair. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re still here,” he pointed out, smirking.

“Unfortunately,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

—

The cafeteria was buzzing with its usual chaos—trays clattering, voices rising, and the occasional shriek of someone almost spilling their drink. You were balancing your lunch tray, trying to make your way to the table where Beomgyu and Soobin were already seated, but as soon as they spotted you and Yeonjun walking in together, their heads whipped toward you like they’d just uncovered the scandal of the century.

The grins on their faces were impossible to ignore.

“So,” Beomgyu began as soon as you sat down, his tone dripping with faux disappointment. “You confessed to my best friend without even telling me?” He sighed dramatically, clutching his chest like you’d personally betrayed him. “I thought we were closer than this.”

You froze mid-bite of your sandwich. “What?”

“Don’t act innocent,” Soobin added, his usually calm demeanor betrayed by the mischievous glint in his eyes. He tilted his head toward Yeonjun, who had taken the seat next to you with the utmost confidence. “We heard about the library incident.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, glaring at Yeonjun. “This is your fault.”

“My fault?” Yeonjun raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin only widening. “All I did was save you from leaving me alone with those girls.”

“Save me?” you repeated, incredulous. “You told everyone we’re dating!”

“Well,” Beomgyu chimed in, leaning forward with an eyebrow raised, “if you’re not dating, you two sure are doing a great job pretending otherwise. You literally walked in here together.”

You rolled your eyes. “Because we were coming from the same place. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Uh-huh,” Soobin said, his tone suspiciously neutral. “And sitting next to each other? Laughing like you’re in your own little world? Totally platonic, right?”

“I’m surrounded by idiots,” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Nothing is going on. Yeonjun made up the girlfriend thing to get those girls off his back, and somehow, everyone else decided to turn it into a school-wide announcement.”

Beomgyu gasped theatrically. “So you’re fake-dating? This is even better.” He clapped his hands together like he’d just won the lottery. “This is straight out of a drama. What’s next? A contract?”

“Don’t give him any ideas,” you groaned, glancing at Yeonjun, who was clearly enjoying this far too much.

“I mean, it’s not the worst idea,” Yeonjun said, casually leaning back in his chair. “You get fewer annoying questions, I get fewer confessions to deal with—”

“Absolutely not,” you cut him off. “This is not happening.”

“Why not?” Beomgyu said, clearly loving every second of this. “Think about it. You’d make the perfect fake couple. The ‘grumpy and sunshine’ dynamic is a classic.”

“I am not grumpy!” you snapped, and Beomgyu cackled like he’d just proven his point.

Soobin, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. “You know, for something fake, you both seem awfully comfortable around each other.”

You stared at him, your brain struggling to form a coherent response. Yeonjun, on the other hand, just smirked.

“See? Even Soobin agrees,” Yeonjun said, shooting you a smug look. “Maybe there’s a reason everyone’s buying it.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “The only reason everyone’s buying it is because you’re too convincing for your own good.”

“Or,” Beomgyu teased, resting his chin on his hands, “because you’re secretly in love with him.”

You choked on your drink. “I—absolutely not!”

Yeonjun just grinned, leaning closer. “You sure about that?”

—

The café was buzzing with lunchtime chatter as you and Yeonjun settled into your seats. It was supposed to be a group lunch, but Beomgyu and Soobin had bailed last minute, claiming an urgent League of Legends match that couldn’t wait. Typical.

“Well, their loss,” Yeonjun said, popping a fry into his mouth. “More food for us.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help a small smile. “Do you ever get tired of eating fries?”

“Never,” he replied with a grin. “Fries are the love of my life. No offense.”

“And why would that be offensive?” you said dryly, sipping your drink.

Midway through your conversation, Yeonjun stood up. “Gotta use the restroom. Don’t eat all the fries while I’m gone.” He shot you a playful wink before walking off, leaving you to roll your eyes again.

As you sat there scrolling through your phone, a girl approached your table, her perfectly styled hair and designer bag making her stand out. She stopped right in front of you, arms crossed, her gaze sharp.

“Hey,” she started, her tone clipped. “I’ve heard the rumors, and I just have to ask—are you really dating Yeonjun?”

You looked up, mildly surprised by the confrontation. “Uh, I guess. Why?”

Her lips twisted into a skeptical smile. “It’s just... you don’t really seem like his type, you know? No offense.”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “None taken,” you said with a shrug, matching her energy. “But what’s his type, exactly?”

She blinked, clearly not expecting you to stand your ground. “Well... someone more... polished, I guess. Someone who matches his vibe. I’m just saying, you don’t seem like the kind of girl he’d go for.”

You set your drink down and met her gaze directly. “Cool. Thanks for your opinion. Anything else?”

Before she could respond, Yeonjun reappeared, his steps light but his expression sharp as he overheard the conversation. “What’s not to like about her?” he asked casually, sliding back into his seat beside you. His sudden presence made the girl stiffen.

“She’s smart, funny, and gorgeous,” Yeonjun continued, his tone unwavering as he gestured toward you. “And for the record, she’s perfect for me.”

The girl’s mouth opened and closed like she was searching for a response. Finally, she managed to say, “It’s just…You could do so much better.”

Yeonjun tilted his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “There’s no such thing as better,” he said, his voice firm. “She’s already the best.”

Without breaking eye contact with the girl, he leaned toward you, his hand resting lightly on your cheek as he pressed a kiss to your lips. Which…well, caught you off guard.

When he pulled back, the girl looked utterly flustered, “I-I...hope the two of you are happy together then. I’m sorry.” she muttered before spinning on her heel and walking away.

Yeonjun turned to you, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “That wasn’t too much, was it?”

You blinked, still processing what had just happened. “Uh... no?” Your cheeks heated up from the sudden intimacy.

“Good,” he said, grabbing another fry like nothing had happened. “Now, where were we?”

—

The cool night breeze swept over the two of you as you walked side by side down the dimly lit street. The sound of your footsteps filled the comfortable silence between you, the faint glow of streetlights illuminating Yeonjun’s sharp features. You stole a glance at him, your heart oddly heavy as you mulled over your thoughts.

“Uh, y’know…” you said softly, your voice barely cutting through the quiet.

“Hm?” he replied, turning his head slightly to look at you, his hands stuffed casually in his jacket pockets.

You hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “You… you kinda stole my first kiss, you know.”

He stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening in alarm. “Wait, that was your first kiss?” he asked, voice rising with panic. “Oh my God, I didn’t—I didn’t know! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“Yeonjun,” you interrupted, laughing softly at his frantic apologies. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I just kissed you to get that girl to leave, and I didn’t even think—”

“Yeonjun,” you said more firmly, cutting him off again. “I’d rather it be you than anyone else.”

That seemed to stop him in his tracks. He blinked, staring at you withcuriosity. “Really?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You looked away, your cheeks warming despite the cool breeze. “Honestly, I felt like I’d never lose my first kiss anyway,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “I’ve always thought it’d never happen.”

Yeonjun frowned, stepping closer. “What? Why would you think that?”

You shook your head, forcing a smile and attempting to wave it off. “It’s nothing. Let’s not—”

“No,” he interrupted, his tone firm. “Why are you so afraid of liking someone? Or being with someone?”

You bit your lip, looking away. “I just…” You hesitated, unsure if you could even put it into words. Finally, you sighed, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I just feel like I wouldn’t be good enough for anyone.”

The silence that followed was heavy, and when you finally looked up, Yeonjun’s expression frustrated.

“Are you kidding me?” he said, his voice tight. “You’re the best person I know. Anyone would be lucky—so lucky—to even have you like them.”

You blinked, startled by the intensity of his words. “Yeonjun—”

“No,” he said, his tone firm. “You don’t get to say things like that about yourself. It’s not true, and it’s… it’s so frustrating that you don’t see what I see.”

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, cupping your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours. It wasn’t hurried or fleeting like before—it was soft.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested lightly against yours, his breathing uneven. “It’s just crazy how you don’t see how fucking amazing you are. You’re smart, you’re literally the prettiest person I’ve ever seen and honestly I don’t understand why you’re so cute. You’re the only person I’ve ever liked this much and it’s killing me.” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You nodded slowly, your eyes still wide, your heart thudding against your chest.

“I’m stupid,” Yeonjun muttered, stepping back slightly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Look, I didn’t mean to scare you—I shouldn’t have just blurted that out like that—”

“No!” you interrupted quickly, your voice firmer than you expected. “I’m not scared at all. I just…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling shy under his intense gaze.

“You just what?” he asked, his tone softening as he leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching yours.

You swallowed hard, your cheeks warming. “I don’t really know how to deal with this,” you admitted quietly. “I’ve never... I’ve never had anyone say something like that to me before.”

Yeonjun’s brows furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line. “You deserve it,” he said firmly, stepping closer again. “You deserve to hear it a hundred times. Every single day. You deserve to feel loved and appreciated and—and wanted.” His voice softened as he added, “Because that’s exactly how I feel about you.”

Your breath hitched, his words sinking in. “Yeonjun…” you started, but you couldn’t find the right words to respond. Your mind was a blur of emotions, too overwhelmed to sort through them.

He reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours before curling gently around them. “You don’t have to say anything right now,” he said quietly. “I just… I need you to know how I feel. And I need you to stop doubting yourself because you’re everything to me.” He paused, then added with a small, almost shy smile, “Even if I totally botched this confession and stole your first kiss”

A laugh escaped your lips despite yourself, breaking the tension. “You didn’t botch it,” you said, shaking your head. “It was... really sweet.”

He grinned, his confidence returning just a little. “Yeah? Sweet enough to get you to go on an actual date with me?”

Your heart fluttered, and this time, you didn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” you said softly, a smile spreading across your face. “Maybe.”

“Maybe? Ouch,” he said dramatically, swinging your joined hands slightly, his teasing smile lighting up his face.

You chuckled, looking at him through your lashes. “I don’t know. You did kinda steal my first kiss.”

Yeonjun stopped walking for a moment, tilting his head as if deep in thought. Then, with a playful glint in his eyes, he said, “You can have it back.” Before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours again, softer this time, as if savoring the moment.

When he pulled back, you were laughing, your cheeks warm and heart racing. “Actually, I think I’d rather you keep it,” you said, your laughter spilling over as you leaned forward to kiss him again, this time initiating it yourself. “Here,” you murmured against his lips.

Yeonjun smirked as you pulled back, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Two can play at this game, y’know.”

“Oh, can they?” you teased, arching a brow as you started to walk again, pulling him along by the hand.

He followed easily, still grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Oh, they can,” he said confidently. “But fair warning, I’m really good at this game.”

“Guess I’ll just have to keep up,” you replied, smiling. “Though, I’d appreciate it if we kept this a little secret for now. I don’t really need Beomgyu asking me for every detail.”

“Right…” Yeonjun nodded thoughtfully, though his grin didn’t falter. “I’m sure it’s not that bad. We’re friends! In fact, haven’t we gotten closer?”

You gave him a look, raising an eyebrow. “He’ll probably want to interrogate you. Or worse…”

“But we’re friends…?” he repeated, as if that would shield him from the chaos to come.

“You don’t understand,” you said with a sigh, shaking your head. “He might be Beomgyu, but he’s insanely—and I mean insanely—protective.”

Yeonjun blinked at you for a moment before laughing. “Protective? Beomgyu? Are we talking about the same Beomgyu who steals fries off everyone’s plates and pretends to faint when he’s asked to help with anything?”

“Yes, that Beomgyu,” you replied with a deadpan expression. “The same one who ‘accidentally’ tripped a guy in middle school because he thought he was flirting with me. Protective doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Yeonjun let out a low whistle, his laughter fading as a hint of nervousness crept into his smile. “Okay, maybe I underestimated him. So what’s the plan? Do I avoid eye contact? Pretend I don’t exist?”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “No, just… don’t give him a reason to go full interrogator mode, and we’ll be fine.”

“That’s easier said than done,” Yeonjun muttered. He glanced at you, his playful smirk returning. “But you’re worth it. If I have to face Beomgyu’s wrath, I’ll do it.”

“Don’t get cocky,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “He hasn’t even started yet.”

Yeonjun chuckled, but there was an undertone of determination in his voice as he said, “Let him. I’ll handle it. I like you too much to let Beomgyu scare me off.”

His words caught you off guard, your steps faltering for a moment. “Yeah, youre saying this now.”

He stopped walking and turned to face you, his expression sincere. “Of course I do. Beomgyu might be protective, but he’s also your friend. If he sees how serious I am about you, he’ll come around.”

A warmth spread through your chest at his words, and you smiled softly. “You’re being too cute right now. It’s really bothering me.”

Yeonjun grinned, leaning in just slightly. “The one time I don’t mind bothering you.”

–

The two of you were great at hiding your relationship—for a solid four days.

Beomgyu stood in front of you and Yeonjun, arms crossed, an exaggeratedly serious look on his face. “So,” he started, narrowing his eyes at Yeonjun, “you’re really dating my best friend?”

Yeonjun nodded, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably as a grin tugged at his lips. “Yeah, I am.”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened dramatically. “And when exactly were you planning on telling me? Huh? Was I supposed to find out at your wedding? Were you even going to send me a save-the-date card?!”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Beomgyu, it hasn’t even been a week—”

“Don’t interrupt me!” he snapped, pointing at you with mock seriousness before turning his attention back to Yeonjun. “You. You toad looking son of a bitch. Answer the question.”

Yeonjun shrugged, clearly amused. “Toad looking– Honestly, Gyu? I was hoping you’d just figure it out and not make a big deal.”

Beomgyu gasped, clutching his chest like he’d been personally betrayed. “Gyu? You lost your Gyu privileges when you didn’t tell me about the two of you dating! And…not make a big deal?! I’m her best friend! It’s my job to make this a big deal! What kind of boyfriend are you if you don’t respect that?”

“Okay, okay, I respect it,” Yeonjun said, holding up his hands in surrender. “But you’re being a little dramatic—”

“Dramatic?” Beomgyu cut him off, pacing in front of you both like a detective in a crime drama. “Dramatic is when I trip a guy for flirting with her. This? This is serious. I need answers. What are your intentions with my little girl?”

“Little girl?” You scoffed.

“My intentions?” Yeonjun repeated, clearly holding back laughter. “I like her. A lot. I want to make her happy.”

Beomgyu squinted at him like he was trying to read Yeonjun’s soul. “Hmm…lame answer but okay. But what about—”

“Beomgyu, stop,” you interrupted, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not my dad and Yeonjun’s not on trial.”

Beomgyu ignored you, snapping his fingers at Yeonjun. “What’s her favorite color?”

“Uh… blue?” Yeonjun said, glancing at you for confirmation.

“Wrong. It’s green,” Beomgyu said confidently, even though he was completely wrong.

“It’s actually yellow,” you corrected, rolling your eyes. “Even I don’t know where you got green from.”

Beomgyu gasped again, this time looking personally offended. “How dare you keep secrets from me?”

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest. “What’s her favorite food?”

“Spaghetti!” Yeonjun answered quickly, as if it was obvious.

Beomgyu sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Lucky guess, nimrod.”

“Nimrod? Really?” Yeonjun shot him an exasperated side-eye. “You’re pulling these nicknames out of nowhere now, huh?”

“Talking back to your father-in-law?” Beomgyu glared, clearly annoyed. “Strike one, Choi Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun blinked, flustered. “My father-in-law is younger than me by two years. This is ridiculous.”

“More back talk, huh? Strike two, fuckface,” Beomgyu snapped, his tone dripping with annoyance.

Yeonjun threw his hands up in frustration, leaning back in his seat. “What the hell, man? Why are you so worked up? I’m literally just trying to answer your questions.”

Beomgyu’s glare intensified. “It’s not about the answer, Yeonjun. It’s the respect you should have for me, as her best friend, I am literally obligated–”

“No, you’re not.”

Beomgyu ignored you, “OBLIGATED to earn my respect and you’re just making it harder for me to give you my approval.”

You watched the exchange with an amused expression but also a growing sense of secondhand frustration on Yeonjun’s behalf. Beomgyu’s intensity wasn’t helping the situation.

Yeonjun finally sighed, slumping in his seat. “I’m not even trying to be difficult, Beomgyu. What do you want from me?”

“I want you to respect the fact that you’re dating my best friend,” Beomgyu muttered, arms still crossed. “I’m watching you, Yeonjun. You mess this up, I swear—”

“Alright, alright,” Yeonjun groaned, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I get it. Strike three is coming, right?”

Beomgyu shot him a look, his eyes narrow with annoyance. “You better believe it, dumbass.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, covering your face. “Are we finally done?”

But Beomgyu wasn’t finished. He turned to Yeonjun with a dramatic flourish, holding his shoulders. “Listen up. When you’re holding her, you need to know you’re holding my whole world.”

“You got that off Pinterest, didn’t you?” you deadpanned.

Beomgyu waved you off, completely ignoring the comment.

But before Beomgyu could continue his interrogation, he suddenly stopped, his expression shifting into something softer. “Wait, I just realised…” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “You’re really dating now. Like, for real. You’re all grown up…”

And then, out of nowhere, Beomgyu lunged forward and wrapped you in a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder. “I’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice muffled and suspiciously emotional. “I’ve watched you grow up, and now you’re dating this idiot! I can’t believe it!”

You froze for a moment, torn between laughing and tearing up yourself. “Beomgyu, are you… crying?”

“No!” he said, his voice cracking. “Shut up. It’s allergies.”

Yeonjun snorted, leaning against the wall. “Wow. Didn’t realize I was dating into such an emotional family.”

Beomgyu shot him a glare, though he didn’t let go of you. “And I cannot stress this enough, you better take good care of her, Yeonjun, or so help me I will cut your balls off when you’re sleep—”

“I will,” Yeonjun said sincerely, cutting him off. “I promise.”

Beomgyu sniffed dramatically before pulling back, giving you one last look. “Fine,” he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I approve. But only because I like you, Yeonjun. Don’t ruin it.”

Yeonjun saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you turned this into a whole event.”

Beomgyu grinned, his usual mischievousness returning. “What can I say? I live for the drama.”

[mcrdvcks]

congrats!!! maybe frank castle headcanons with reader who takes every mutt home and cares for it?

while writing this, since i've never wrote for frank before, i repeated "goddammit red" in my head multiple times to hopefully get frank in character, lol.

send an ask for my 2,000 followers celebration!

warnings/tags: stray dogs, soft!frank, protective!frank (?), fluff

At first, Frank thinks it’s a one-time thing. You show up with a skinny, muddy mutt and he just stares at you. “...That thing better not have fleas.” You roll your eyes and wrap it in a towel. He mutters but lets it stay. One night, tops.

It is not a one-time thing. Two weeks later, there’s a three-legged pit bull on the couch. A month after that, a wiry mutt with one ear and a suspicious limp. You say, “he followed me.” Frank says, “you brought him.” You don’t deny it.

He pretends to be annoyed, but he’s already bought extra dog food. He grumbles when he steps in fur. He curses when they bark at the mailman. But he also builds a ramp for the pit bull’s bad leg and cuts up hot dogs for treats when you’re not looking.

He’s extremely protective of you—so when he realizes these mutts make you happy? It’s over. You’ve won. You’ve got bruises and exhaustion and scars from a hard life, and these dogs make you soft. He’ll tolerate anything that gives you peace.

Sometimes he watches you patch them up—gently wiping their paws, checking their teeth, whispering nonsense to keep them calm—and he swears you’ve got actual magic in your hands. “You’re not scared of anything, huh?” he mutters. You smile at him. “No. You’re here.”

He starts naming them. Secretly. You give them names like “Muffin” or “Pebble.” Frank calls them “Tank,” “Sniper,” or “Old Man.” They respond to his names more often than yours, and you pretend not to be bitter about it.

He draws the line at more than five. “No more.”

You show up with number six two weeks later, soaked and shaking. Frank glares. You shrug. “…You can name him,” you say. Frank sighs, runs a hand down his face. “Looks like a goddamn Winston.”

Frank has a reputation in the neighborhood now. Not as the Punisher. Not as the terrifying guy in the black hoodie. As the “grumpy guy with the rescue dogs.” Kids wave from the sidewalk. Old ladies leave bones in baggies on the gate. Frank pretends not to notice.

You think he doesn’t care—but then you catch him training them. Hand signals. Gentle commands. Low whistles. One day you walk in on him teaching them to stay behind cover. “They need to know how to survive,” he mutters. You don’t argue. You just kiss his shoulder and sit down beside him.

He learns every one of their routines. The pit bull likes warm towels fresh from the dryer. The mutt with the bad ear only eats if someone sings near her. Winston is scared of thunder, but calms down if he can sit in Frank’s lap (Frank insists he’s “just lettin’ him up this once”).

You patch up every stray you find, and Frank watches like he’s seeing something holy. There’s blood on your sleeves, dirt on your knees, and you’re whispering, “you’re okay now, sweetheart,” like it’s a promise you’ll make true. He falls in love with you a little more every time.

Sometimes you fall asleep on the couch with a pile of dogs, and Frank just… stands there for a second. His whole world right in front of him. You, snoring softly, a mutt drooling on your sock. He quietly tucks a blanket around you both, clicks off the lamp, and sits nearby. Just in case.

Eventually, he just stops arguing. You bring one home and he doesn’t even lift his head. “What’s this one’s deal?” “Blind in one eye, hates men.” “Sounds perfect.”

Turns out that German Shepard—who you named Stella—really hates men. But the only guy she likes? Frank. The first time the two of you took her to the vet she nearly bit off the vet’s hand when he was trying to get her temperature.

Frank didn’t flinch. Just put a calm hand on her scruff, murmured, “Easy, girl. You’re good.” She stopped growling instantly. You stared at him like he’d just parted the Red Sea.

He buys a bigger couch. Doesn’t even mention it. Just installs it one day while you're out getting supplies. You stare at it in disbelief. “We don’t have guests.” “Didn’t buy it for guests.” He points at the pack, already sprawled across it. “They were fallin’ off the old one.”

Frank becomes the pack leader without trying. They follow him from room to room. Sit when he whistles. Wait for his signal before eating. One of the new ones—missing a paw—won’t go outside unless Frank carries her. He does. Every morning. Without fail.

You catch him sewing up a torn stuffed animal one night. It belongs to the anxious mutt who can’t sleep without it. You don’t say anything. Just lean against the doorframe and watch him fix it like it’s mission-critical.

[azullumi]

WHERE WE LIE ON THE EDGE OF SUMMER !!

premise— you didn’t think that being neighbors and childhood friends with scaramouche would come with many things. for one, you have a sassy loser pathetically in love with you. content tags & warning — pairing: scaramouche (w/ gender-neutral reader) | modern!au, childhood friends, puppy love, scaramouche can’t skip stones, secret pining (for scaramouche), scaramouche words of reassurance and act of service advocate, fluff, word vomit, unspoken confessions | wc: 4.8k ; one-shot

notes from a jellyfish — (repost) first fic for the eat your heart out event!! nearly lost my mind writing this, but enjoy!!

SCARAMOUCHE is a liar. 

No truths spill from his mouth, that much is certain. 

He could never understand how poets write the beauty of a single sway of grass in the wind nor see how artists condense a single moment into a small stroke of a brush and find it breathtaking when it will all be bound to rot, but he tells others that he does anyway because he is a liar.

His words would bloom withered in his mouth, a shameful garden of ache, and the petals would never feel the lingering warmth in his lips.

But he never liked the heat, the suffocating warmth, always preferring the winter cold. But it was summer when he first met you and he remembers your laughter as you threw pebbles across the water, your smile gently shaped by the warm sun.

i. standing in between here and there

“Are you okay?”

There was only a grimace of annoyance on his face when you turned to briefly look at him. 

It was summer once more and Scaramouche dreaded summer more than anyone could, much more so now that he’s spending this hot day with a stranger—a child of his aunt’s friend, who is also their neighbor. The combination of sitting under all this heat and being forced to get along with someone he doesn't know is deadly. He can't even remember what their name was. Perhaps they had uttered it once only for it to be lost among the pebbled path or to be drowned in the river.

He raises his eyebrow at you, “Is it not obvious enough?”

“What’s with this sassy lost child? Jeez.” You mumble more words underneath your breath, something along the lines of him being grumpy. The summer breeze brushes across your skin as you stare at the river, contemplating. Perhaps you were debating if this stone will reach farther than the frog who jumped across just now, or maybe you’re just thinking of the boy—who your mother had asked you to get along with—sitting silently on the grass behind you since earlier.

You throw one stone over the water. It bounces once and twice, the surface responding with small ripples, sliding across before eventually sinking. You do this many times and he watches you every single time, eyes seemingly unable to look away. But curiosity is a hungry monster that consumed him, so he speaks to rid of the itch that claws at his throat:

“What are you doing?”

“Stone skipping,” you paused, witnessing the stone jump only once before reuniting with its old friends at the bottom of the river, “wanna try?” You blink at him, waiting for his answer. There was silence then came a grumble. He stood up from his seat with an expression that makes it seem like you forced him to do so.

You handed the boy a pebble, but he had to stare at it for a few seconds before he took it from your hand. You waited with an expectant gaze, your mind somehow anticipating that he’ll do better than you—Scaramouche looks like he’s good at everything that he does.

Oh, but how your expectations came crumbling down the way your breakfast cookie fell into your glass of milk.

“Go on, throw it.” You had told him and you didn’t know that he was that much of an obedient child because he really did throw it. Just not aimed at the water. He threw it like how one would pass a ball to a friend; his stone didn’t even graze nor come near the surface of the water.

But Scaramouche had the same perseverance of a rock against the wind. He picked up a pebble and threw it once more; this time, it is now aimed at the water but it only went straight ahead, sinking slowly to the bottom.

You don’t think you’re in the right time to say anything, so you just stood still and watched the struggle of a young boy who had a small stone in his hand, with the occasional rustling of leaves as the breeze passes and with the sound of a splash prodding at the silence that envelops you like a familiar companion. You wanted to go and teach him how he’s supposed to do it, that there is a certain angle that he has to reach and he’s not supposed to throw it just as it is, but your mind seems to tell you not to so you didn’t. It’s all quite a spectacular watch, after all, it was as if you were watching your favorite show at 7 PM after waiting hours for it to go on air.

No matter how many times Scaramouche tries to throw and make the pebble bounce across the river, it always just sinks the first time it comes into contact with the surface. He’s silent, but the frustration is evident in the scrunch of his eyebrows and the increasing aggression in his movements.

“Oh, wow, you’re terrible at this.” You were the first to break the silence—your words seem to have stabbed his unyielding spirit as he groaned and just went back to where he was sitting. An act of surrender after struggling for so long.

”You don’t want to try again?”

“Why should I?” The pebble will only sink anyway. What’s the point of doing something when you know you’ll fail in the end?

“Come on, just try it once more.” But you were a stubborn one and Scaramouche doesn’t have much of a choice, not when you’re already right in front of him, taking his hands into yours and pulling for him to stand up. You drag him back to where he was earlier, still holding one of his hands even as you pick up a pebble right at your feet.

“Here, do it like this.” Your hand is warm against his, gentle, in contrast to the crumpled look on his face. You guide him, saying words that he can’t process that much as he’s way too focused trying to fan the flames that danced across his cheeks.

He throws, in the same angle and form that you have guided him into before you had stepped back to watch, holding hope that he’ll succeed this time in the same hand you held him. The stone doesn’t immediately celebrate with his other failed attempts at the bottom as it bounces against the surface. 

You cheered, the sound of laughter slipping out of your lips as it seemed to tickle the insides of your mouth the more you held it in. There’s a certain feeling of warmth that washed over him when the melody rings inside his head. The roughness of the feeling, sharp in its unfamiliar edges, is akin to a huge wave that crashed into his form, but the comfort of it as it submerges him reminds him of the afternoon light shining on the floors of his home.

“It only bounced once.” He says, trying to downplay it all to get rid of the feeling that consumes him.

“But it did. That’s what matters, doesn’t it?” The feeling only seemed to grow stronger as if it’s feeding on your every word, being fuelled by your gaze, by your smile, by the sound of your voice. He tries to drown it all by thinking of other thoughts, diving into a different topic instead, and all the while, copying you as you resume your stone-skipping activities.

“Do you not get bored doing this?”

You hum, contemplating for a few seconds before you answer: “I think everything is a little more fun when you do it during summer,” you beam at him, then return your gaze back to the river before you throw, “Like this, especially when you’re doing it with someone.”

To be honest, he doesn’t even understand what you’re saying. This childlike mindset—although, for one, you and him are just a pair of children, playing beside the river, feeling the heat prickling against your skin. The bugs only grow louder in each second that passes as the afternoon slowly comes to the pass, replaced with the onset of the evening. The sky is painted with various colors mixed together but all in harmony, oranges and reds mixed with something golden, tainted with purples.

And yet, he would always ask himself, what is even nice about summer?

“I don’t know why but maybe I’m just saying that because I like summer,” you say as if you had read his mind, as if you had noticed the lingering question on his face that asks you why. “Do you like summer?”

It takes him a moment to answer, letting the orchestra of the wind against leaves, of the stone splashing against water, of the cicada’s song last longer than his silence. He could have said no, he could have disagreed with you and argued with your answer. He could have said that he despised summer for its heat and bugs. But he didn’t and that was the problem.

“I… like summer.” There are razors in his tongue as he speaks, the utterance of the sentence making him bleed internally as he bites on his words. Perhaps the hesitation in his tone betrays his words or perhaps it was the twitch of his lips paired with the contort of his forehead that made it appear as untruthful as it actually was.

Even so, you were convinced. You gleam at him, eyes bright with excitement: “Really? You don’t seem to be one to like summer.”

“I do, why would you say that?”

You shrug, “You just seem like a winter person to me.”

That wasn’t exactly a lie. In fact, that was the whole truth and the actual lie was him saying that he likes summer. He still doesn’t understand himself for saying such words—maybe it’s the heat getting into his head or maybe it's the sound of your laughter that plays over and over inside his mind.

It feels like having a crush—He slaps himself mentally at the notion.

“We should always spend summer together then.” You’ll say, watching a pebble bounce across until it reaches the other side. A feat you have only achieved twice—the second time being this moment. You silently rejoiced for your success, clenching your hand into a fist.

He responds, “So we could just watch stones bounce on water the whole time?” and this made you chuckle before you refute: “Unless you want to, but there are tons of other things to do during summer.”

This went on and on: you, just listing out whatever activities you could do and saying whatever, and him, who listens to every word you say and would give you short responses. It is not until dusk had ended and the evening came, and now, you’re standing by the doorway, saying your goodbyes to the boy who’s terrible at stone-skipping.

“You don’t even know my name, do you?”

“I do.”

You laugh, “Liar.”

ii. take a step closer, won’t you?

Summer came to visit like an old friend you had known for years.

It’s a fleeting companion, a familiar stranger bound to disappear, gone as the wind carries your scent. The sun kisses your skin very delicately, the grass will hold your being as if you were its own child, and you will miss its embrace the moment it slips out of your hands quietly. But there’s a strange comfort welling up in your heart knowing that you will feel it once more in time and you won’t have to spend a lifetime missing it—or him.

“What are you being so slow for?” The dark-haired man stops from his track and turns to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips formed into a frown. “The sun will set before we even reach the river.” It’s the mayor of complaintown, throwing his usual complaints at you. You could only roll your eyes before you run to him, catching up to his pace before the two of you resume walking.

Scaramouche, somehow, kept his promise. Although it’s not exactly a promise because the two of you didn’t make any, he did keep his word of spending every summer with you. And right now, you’re in the middle of walking through the forest near your home—an adventure, you may say, despite the fact that you have taken this path multiple times already and you’re just returning to the place where the two of you usually spend your moments under the summer sun.

The gentle murmurs of the rushing water reach your ears, eventually getting louder as the two of you draw close to your destination. Not sooner than later, a familiar scene comes into view: the small river—a stream, to be exact—in all its glory displayed before you, a path of water stretching from here to there across your line of vision, carrying memories of when the two of you played around it.

There’s a small smile embedded on your lips. It’s the thought that it's only the two of you that knows of this place that makes you warm—it’s like a secret place for you and him.

You come close to the body of water, crouching down, staring at your rather unclear image by the water, and making out the contours and edges of your face. You try to reach out to your reflection, disturbing the surface with the tip of your fingertips, and you watch as it ripples underneath your hand. Although you’re way too focused on whatever you are doing that you forgot the existence of the boy who came here with you.

“Are you just planning on staring at the water all day long?” Scaramouche says as he crouches down beside you. He speaks as if he didn’t spend his time staring at you, admiring the way the sun holds you in its embrace, while thinking that he could just look at you for hours without getting bored.

You hum, “I really don’t know what else to do now,” you draw something on the water, the surface coming in creases.

“I thought you said there are a lot of things to do in the summer.”

“Yeah, but we already did nearly all of them.” You grumble, turning to look at him with a troubled expression. Indigo orbs meet yours in a gentle gaze; Scaramouche’s gaze, tender and soft, doesn’t often match the harsh bite of his words. It leaves you wondering, confused, if this is just his way of showing that he cares or if there’s something more. But you don’t like thinking about it—fools base their thoughts on foolish assumptions, and you are no fool.

If only you know what festers underneath his skin. Looking at you like this, honey light against your skin, he thinks you’re beautiful—the word isn’t even enough to capture the essence of your being. The world seemingly held its breath for this moment as everything came to a still except for the wind that brushes against your face. He is foolishly and utterly starstruck by the existence of you, as if you were meant to be in this place, to experience this small, fleeting moments with him, to be bathed under sunlight, to breath in the air of your surrounding, the feel the coldness of water against your feet—to live.

There's you and his mere image being reflected by your eyes, and he tries to see into the waters of your gaze for something that is akin to the just adoration he holds for you, hoping that you hold him under the same light too. He may speak of words that hold no meaning, no truth, but his feelings for you are intense and unwavering that it consumes him. Won’t you pull him a little closer?

You break the stillness, your surroundings seemingly coming back to life with the sound of your voice: “What are you thinking now?”

“Just how stupid you look.” The boy answers. Liar.

You acted as if you were offended by his statement, letting out a gasp and even placing your hand over your chest to show that you were quote on quote, hurt. He only rolls his eyes at your performance.

You jest, “Why are you so grumpy? Do you just hate being with me?”

“Stop assuming things, I didn’t say anything like that.” His attention is now to the river, watching as the stream flows and as the rocks remain unmoving.

You grab this moment to take advantage of his vulnerability and inattention. Snickering, you scoop a handful of water before splashing it to him, drenching him in the process. At the sight, laughter bubbles from your throat—he reminded you of a wet chick.

“So we're playing this game?”

“You started it.” You grin, splashing him once more but this time, he was able to shield himself from your attack.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Cold!” You exclaim as he repays you the favor.

It became a battle between you two. You’ll splash him with a handful and he’ll only retaliate after like two or three of your attacks, and even so, he’ll only fight back with only so little. Nevertheless, water drips from your head, down to your face and he, too, is left there on the side of the river with you, completely drenched and with his clothes sticking to his skin. His gaze is on you and yours are on him, and the two of you break into laughter—you think you’ll remember the sound of yours and his tangled together forever.

For a moment, it felt like the two of you were children once more.

“Ah, now we’re both wet.”

Scaramouche flicks your forehead, earning a groan from you. “And whose fault is that?”

“Yours, duh.” You sneeze as soon as you finish your sentence. Scaramouche doesn’t fail to notice you tremble, hugging your knees close to your chest as if to quell the growing chill. 

He abruptly stands up, and you watch him as heads over to where his bag is. He’s been carrying that since earlier and you’ve been curious as to what it contains—you didn’t get the chance to ask him earlier but now, your question is going to be answered. 

You follow after, standing and peering behind him to see the contents. Your eyes are able to make out a water bottle and some snacks—were those your favorite?—among the pile of things. Albeit you didn’t get to see anymore of it as he turned around and placed something on top of your head, obscuring your vision.

You realized it was a towel when he started to gently rub your hair and the side of your face with it, drying you with the soft fabric.

“I didn’t know you had that much prepared.” You comment, letting him seemingly take care of you. Sometimes, it feels like you’re indebted to him with how much he looks after and cares for you. It feels unfair; you take so much from him and he never takes anything from you. He never lets himself indulge, settling on here and there, but never by you. You wish he would come close, he wishes you’ll hold him closer.

“I think we’re going to get sick after this.” You ask with worry lacing your tone; the water was cold and none of you brought any spare clothes, save for the towel he had prepared. And while he’s the one who got drenched the most, he’s here, focusing on you instead. 

(You’ll always find yourself being bathed underneath all of his attention, whether you notice his gaze or not.)

“You’re the only one getting sick between the both of us.” He answers, draping the towel all over your shoulders before he goes and takes out a smaller towel to dry himself. There’s a small pout on your face when you hear his words—you can’t say anything in retort.

“Are we going home now?”

“If you want to, that is.”

The sun is already setting and darkness is slowly creeping into the day as time passes. Your surroundings are dyed with a warm golden, fading into blue. The animals that dwell in the night are revealing themselves as the ones who thrive during the day are returning to rest. Eventually, you also have to go home too. Exhaustion has seeped into you, settling into your weary bones.

“Can you carry me?”

“What? Can’t you walk on your own?”

“Oh, please, almighty Scaramouche. My legs are hurting and I’m tired.” Your hands are clasped together as you speak, batting your eyelashes at him.

Scaramouche could have complained a little more, dismissed your request, and walked back on his own, but he didn’t. And it’s not like he did not want to, but he just could not. How could he ever deny you? You were all that he could ask for, you were only asking him for one thing. Rejecting you at this moment was just like turning away from you—even though he knows that you’re most likely bluffing and are capable of your own. 

(But, oh, he’s simply nothing without you. After all, you make up half of his soul even if he’s not even a fragment of yours.)

“You’re so troublesome.” You’re his favorite problem anyway.

Dusk is settling in the corners of the forest, and in the midst of the trees and along with the harmony of cicadas, is you and Scaramouche. The dark-haired man carries you on his back while you keep him occupied with your chatter of whatever that comes to your mind.

And just as he notices every small thing about you, you can’t ignore the dark hue his skin is painted in:

“Your ears are red.”

He takes a few seconds, mumbling, “It’s too hot.”

(Maybe it’s summer that is warm, or maybe it’s you.)

The next day, however, Scaramouche got sick and you had to nurse him back to his health—out of worry and guilt. Although you held that fact over your head, treating it as some sort of trophy.

iii. aren’t we already close enough?

Something knocks at Scaramouche’s window.

That’s how most horror movies start, but this is no horror movie, and it doesn’t take much for him to know that it was just his neighbor trying to grab his attention.

Another knock came. He heads towards the noise, pushing the curtains aside, and immediately seeing you across in your own room, standing by your open window. Upon seeing the man, you enthusiastically wave at him.

You mouthed, even doing some hand gestures to throw your message across to him: “Do you wanna watch the stars with me?”

It seems like he didn’t understand what you were trying to say as he only stares at you with a confused expression. You sighed and gestured for him to wait, disappearing from his line of sight for a moment before returning with a pen and paper in your hand; you scribble something on it and he watches you with a curious gaze.

With your words written by ink, a few of it crossed out, it reads: Let’s go stargazing.

He mouths, “Right now?” In which you responded with a nod and a smile. Then you return to your pad in hand, turning to new page before writing:

There’s going to be a meteor shower tonight. Let’s watch it together.

Scaramouche puts down his reply on his paper that he has gotten as you were writing.

Where? 

The forest has a small clearing, it’s perfect for stargazing.

Right, and why are we talking like this?

It’s more fun this way and I don’t want to wake people up.

So, do you wanna go???

Okay. Yeah.

YAY !!! I’ll meet you outside.

But just as you were about to leave, he threw his pen at your window, an attempt to grab your attention although he did end up startling you.

It’s cold.

Wear something warm.

You beam at his display of his concern and give him an ‘Okay’ sign.

A few minutes flies by and you come out, jacket in hand. A certain man, with hair as dark as midnight, greets you. He’s clad in sweatpants and an oversized shirt, layered with a jacket on top—he was dressed comfily, as if he were planning on sleeping prior to this.

“Were you planning on going to sleep?”

“I was, until you called.”

“You could have just turned me down. I don’t mind watching the meteor shower alone.” You feel guilt rising in your chest, looking down at the ground you were rooted on. Thoughts whirl like a hurricane, creating a vortex of doubt that wreaks havoc inside your head. You don’t know what’s wrong with you, feeling all of these all at once over a simple and small thing. You were the one to insist, always the first one to come barging into his door.

But somewhere between your thoughts and his own, between loving you and adoring you, he knows you in ways that no one could. You’re the only one he ever knows.

“You’re not bothering me,” Scaramouche ruffles your head, messing up your hair. He speaks in the same note of his touch, soft and gentle, and it feels foreign and familiar at the same time; you want this, you could get used to this—the small thought that remains inside your mind echoes as he dispels all of your worries with just a few of his words. “Besides, I also wanted to watch the meteor shower.” With you.

“Really?”

“Where’s the stubborn and strong person who’ll drag me out of my room every summer that I know?” He flicks your forehead, making you wince and rub the spot to ease the pain. He adds, a small smile etching into the curves of his lips, “You were the one to say that everything is better when you do it with someone.”

“Well—”

“There’s no need to worry over such useless things,” He heaves out a sigh, “If I hated you, you would have known.”

He doesn’t know what took over him to have his hand seek out your face, caressing your face so tenderly like a lover would. The dance of his fingers left a trail of warmth across your skin, blooming and spreading like fire, and maybe it was your fault or maybe it was his that your face leans closer to his touch as if desiring for more of his softness. He doesn’t fail to notice the look on your face, the fire that festers within you spreading to him.

Scaramouche is mesmerized by the miracle that is you. 

He clears his throat, looking away, afraid that he’s going to be consumed by your light the more he keeps his gaze on you:

“Let’s go before we end up missing it.” His tone falters into something sweet, and his hand, too, falls into something kind—his fingers slipping into your own. You could only nod your head in response, afraid that your words would break in your tongue before you could even speak.

It doesn’t take long to reach the spot you were talking about. But it did feel like time moved slowly with the silence as neither of you let go of each other’s hand; you battled with your reasoning, thinking that it will help you walk better in the dark and not trip over anything even when you’re already familiar with the path. Or maybe it was just too cold, you don’t know; it’s not like you want to let go either.

(And in the same cadence of your thoughts, his soul whispers to you: “I don’t think I want to stop holding your hand.”)

Tonight, the stars are a witness to the wake of something foolishly beautiful. As the streaks of light fill the sky like a stroke of a painter’s brush on an empty canvas, lush grass forms into nothing as it sinks beneath your being, intertwined with his as he clutches your hand tight—the sky holds the stars as the earth bears your weight all the same. When the warm breeze leaves and when life all becomes nothing in the absence of indigo merging into golden, can you stand with him a little closer underneath the fading warm?

“Kuni.” What does his name taste like in your mouth?

“Hm?”

Scaramouche isn’t stupid, but you make him feel stupid, and he loves you stupid, like a loser stumbling over the stars in your eyes. He understands why poets write the mundane and how artists portray a fleeting moment bound to rot by time. It doesn’t take much but he spent a long time seeking comfort in the warmth to know the answer—he knew what it was when he wished you were with him to enjoy the sun.

You reside in the deeper parts of his soul, tangled in the loose threads of his being. Scaramouche prays—even when he doesn’t necessarily believe, but what is a god’s gaze for your love?—to whoever is listening that you’ll stay there forever. Can a human ever stop their heart from wanting? 

“Don’t you want to go home now?” You had asked him; the meteor shower has finished and the clouds are already hiding the vast blanket of stars above you. There’s not much left in this night, just silence and a pair of people who had nothing and everything at the same time, lying on the grass as if they’re the only ones who matter in the world. He has always existed right there beside you and he has belonged to you in ways that you may never know.

“I’m still not sleepy yet.” But his mouth gapes into a yawn and you laugh.

“Liar.”

Call him whatever you want, he just wants to stay with you a little longer.

Scaramouche may be a liar.

But he likes you, that much is certain.

taglist: @felibrary, @yunicide, @bittersweetmiko

© AZULLUMI 2024. plagiarism of any form and type, stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is NOT permitted.

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact. Smut with a tiny plot, breeding kink, alcohol mention, rough unprotected sex, manhandling, somnophilia (tiny bit) etc.

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

divider by @anitalenia ✨

It was supposed to be fun. Your new friendship with Logan. he was your neighbour after all. Always polite, quiet and observing. He was a grumpy oldman who never liked too much noise or lots of people around. Always wanting to be left alone but tonight pages turned. He’d drive you somewhere when needed because that was his occupation anyways— his bones ached when he walked. Tiredness clearly visible on his face when he opened the door to your house, yes you gave him a key in case of an emergency. He just had needs…needs like any other man would have. Usually he’d drink his needs and feelings away but tonight he wanted his prize. Your cunt. God he smelled it every time you were around him, he loved the smell of your arousal.

Upon entering your bedroom, he found you sleeping peacefully on your bed. One leg draped out of the covers revealing your smooth naked legs and your butt. You wore a thong, a pink one to be exact. Logan has never been to your room before and he found it quite cosy. Your bed looked so comfy with you in it. Opening his tie, he sighed softly. Cock resting heavily in his pants, wanting out and wanting you even dribbling with some pre cum. God you made him so hard. Your little tank top was the cutest— he could see your pebbled nipples underneath were you dreaming something nice? A little whimper left your lips as you turned on your belly practically giving him an invitation to pull you to edge of the bed and pound you silly. Nostrils parting your pussy smelled so good, just by seeing it his body surged with more need for you.

Leaving the door partly open, Logan watched you sleep. Swallowing thickly the way you rubbed your little cunt against the sheets he could see those folds making that thong wet. You dreamed something nice weren’t you? He couldn’t contain himself anymore, so he pulled you to the edge of the bed by your ankle. You whined, resting your cheek on the sheets. His large calloused palm covered your ass giving you a little squeeze before pulling your thong to the side checking your entrance and you were soaked. You whimpered a little louder pleasure travelling deeply to your core. You willingly pushed against his hand as if you wanted to rub your tiny cunt on his fingers that had his breath hitch. “little slut aren’t you bub?” your response was another whine and he couldn’t deny it.

His cock was so painfully hard, the red mushroom tip swollen pre cum decorating the slit once he freed himself out fisting his angry cock. “Fuck..” he breathed pulling your ass up your knees ended up being on the edge of the bed. Your eyes fluttered open the moment you felt him breach your drooling cunt open “mr-mr howlett” you let out a broken whimper clenching your fists in the sheets “can’t help it princess.. need to fucking ruin this cunt” he let out a shaky breath sinking to the depths of your wet mound. “oh my goshh” You cried out in the sheets. Feeling him grab your waist holding you sliding out living the tip in and pushing back in you. your eyes rolled back and your only response was a loud mewl. “lookatcha bub archin your back like a needy kitten” praising you his lips parted as you clenched your pussy around his cock. The warmth in your belly getting stronger with every thrusts and his pace quickened, your slick making a mess on your inner thighs and his balls the way they clapped your clit god they were heavy “daddy” you were too fucked out to care “yeah? callin this old man daddy?” his thrusts became stronger and harder holding your ass on his hands pounding your quicker tipping his head back slightly to breathe out his pleasure snapping his hips against your jiggly ass. “Yes yes! you’re my daddy” you cried into the sheets legs trembling but logan hovered above you. Hands flat on the bed nose buried in your hair as he pounded into you. His chest making a contact with your back you arched your ass even more for him making his cock slide deeper in you nestling against your sweet spot trembling harder. Your moans undeniably loud, Logan’s breath was so raged as he continued to pound you harder, faster until you creamed his cock cumming hard with tears pooling in your eyes. His lips parted following his orgasm chasing it until shoving his length in you and cumming violently. It felt so good to flood your cunt with his cum, a broken whimper followed out of your lips. You have never been pounded this way— exhaustion washed over you. “best cunt I’ve ever fucked, princess” he kissed the top of your head breathlessly.

“Mmm..” you smiled.

[quietplace26]

Furina!MC au: Two Dragons, One Grumpy Mama to be.

Notes: This is an alternative take where Focalors doesn't appear to force Furina!MC to return to Fontaine. So she's still living with Neuvillette in his den.

Warnings: OCness of the characters. Cringe worthy content.

The Hydro Archon was missing.

That news alone was quick to spread to other nations, and of course that would catch the other Archon's attention.

It was known in their circle that the first Hydro Archon died during the Cataclysm, but no one has had a chance to meet her successor yet.

And only barely even 100 of years later that successor goes missing?

That... was concerning.

It was decided that as an act of kindness and respect to Elegria, and as he was the only free to do so, Rex Lapis agrees to travel to Fontaine to help locate the missing Goddess.

He scours the land of Justice with keen eyes and senses, eventually tracking down a rather divine scent.

A scent of divinity and Hydro. That was definitely the missing Hydro Archon's scent. He was on the right track.

Even though he hated it, Rex Lapis dove into the water, tracking the Hydro signature through a series of underwater caves before breaching into a large den.

And right in the center laid a nest where someone laid in it, sleeping like a baby.

It was the missing Hydro Archon. She was thankfully unharmed... and very clearly comfortable.

That alone confuses the Geo Archon.

Why was she... so unguarded? Hadn't she been kidnapped?

He silently moves closer studying the sleeping Goddess's face... Huh... She was a rather pretty little thing... Maybe he could-

Wait. What was that scent? It... The Hydro Archon was practically saturated in an unknown dragon's scent!

Well, not unknown, but it strangely smells familiar but he couldn't put his finger on it...

And not only that, but there was also another scent underneath the dragon's and the female's natural sweet scent. A scent he only smelled on pregnant women...

Now that he was closer, he could see the faint outline of a bump hidden underneath the female's dress.

Brow furrowing, Rex Lapis slowly reaches out to wake the Goddess so he could question her and hopefully understand more, only-

"Get your filthy hands off my mate, usurper."

A grumpy and tired Furina!MC ends up waking up to the sound of loud snarls and to sensation of the Hydro and Geo elements flaring up are around her.

A snarling Neuvillette was wrestling an equally snarling unknown man on the floor of their den.

Squinting her still sleepy eyes at the new male, it takes a second for her tired brain to realize who he was.

Different than how she recalled him from the video game, she knew this was definitely Zhongli- er, well, Rex Lapis? That would be his name currently, right?

Actually... Why was he here?!

Neuvillette practically yeets the Geo Archon to the other side of the den then, making Furina!MC wince at the crashing noises that followed, and a headache quickly starts to build up.

Huffing softly, she sits up in the nest, gently placing a hand on her currently small baby bump and clears her throat.

Both men freeze. Neuvillette had Rex Lapis in a chokehold and Rex Lapis biting down on the Sovereign's arm. Both stared wide eyed at the grumpy looking woman who was pouting in annoyance.

Furina!MC is once again graced with the sight of Neuvillette chucking Rex Lapis like he was a pebble. Not even looking back to see the Geo Archon landing back in the water, sputtering out water and looking like a soggy, wet cat.

The Hydro Dragon quickly has Furina!MC in his arms and he furiously begins to scent her, rubbing his cheek against hers and grumbling moodily about usurper touching what wasn't his.

And when a sopping Rex Lapis trots over as well, eyes glaring at Neuvillette but shifting to interest when he catches Furina!MC's gaze.

Neuvillette just bristles, growling ferally and wraps his tail protectively around Furina!MC's waist.

Furina!MC just wants to sleep.

"You two."

Furina!MC's voice was short, moody, causing both males to stand at attention. This was the voice of a woman who was done with men's bullshit.

"I'm going back to sleep. So, you-" She points to Rex Lapis. "And you-" She points to Neuvillette. "Play nice. Understood?"

Pregnancy hormones, as Furina!MC learned, made her more easily... stirred. Meaning she'll either want to cry at the sight of a cute otter, get snippy over the fact she wanted certain food or more sleep, or flat out want to be ravished.

Currently it is the second one. She. Was. Grumpy.

So, Furina!MC huffs, before turning and cuddling into Neuvillette's chest, quickly going back to sleep, and leaving the two males in an awkward silence.

...Only to be broken by an amused and fascinated Rex Lapis.

"Quite the charming little mate you have there... Hydro Sovereign."

Neuvillette gives him a sour look in which the Geo Archon only returns with an innocent smile.

[lullxby]

niccolò x reader

just fluff where he either protects her at school from someone horrible or where she’s having a bad day so late at night he comes to her house and takes her out just on a walk around italy😔🙏🙏

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ MY SHIRT (n. g)

summary : in which a brooding boy notices his bestfriend is upset, and shows up throwing pebbles.

w.c. : .8k

a/n : im bacckkk! thank you for requesting gorgeous, hope you enjoy!

(p. s. i had no clue how to end it so its kinda rough)

warning(s) : none!

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niccolo govender paid so much attention to you. some would say too much. but what else was he supposed to do? you were his best friend. you had a way of making him happier just by being around him, like a ray of sunshine against his rain clouds.

so, obviously, when he noticed you had been looking down all day, not acting like your usual upbeat self, he just had to help you! even if that meant walking to your house in the dark, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark sweatshirt.

he finally reached your house, the only room with the lights on being yours. he didn’t know if your parents were home, and he didn’t want to risk it when they already thought lowly of him. so, he looked around, grabbing a small pebble off the side of the road and throwing it up at your window. he got it spot on, bouncing off of the pane with a small, yet noticeable clank.

he could see your shadow shifting a bit, then eventually go back to lie down on your bed. he rolled his eyes, grabbing another small piece of debris and tossing it up again. this one seemed to finally grab your attention, as he watched you slide over the frilly curtains, squinting and eventually recognizing him.

he let out a quiet laugh as your eyes darted around the rest of the street, making sure there was nobody else, then back at your closed bedroom door. then, a hushed whisper.

“what?!”

he knew trying to talk to you like this would be useless, so he just gestured with his hand for you to come down. luckily for him, you listened with just a slight eye roll.

you closed the curtains, and a few minutes later appeared from the front door, a grumpy look on your face.

“hello to you too,” he remarked, noticing how you certainly didn’t want to be there.

he felt bad about seeing you upset, but he couldn’t help but tease you when you were like this, compared to your typical personality.

“now will you tell me what you want?” you asked him, and he definitely didn’t miss the attitude used in it.

“walk with me?” he offered, holding his hand out. if you said something about it, he’d play it off as a joke, but he was hoping you wouldn’t.

you glanced back at your house. a little walk couldn’t hurt, right? plus, it wasn’t like your mood could’ve gotten worse. so, with a small groan, you placed your hand in his, the warmth radiating from him encompassing you in the brisk night air.

he let his hand fall a bit, holding it in a more natural position as he began leading you away from the house and down the streets of rome. or, at least, the small neighborhood your house was in.

the walk was comfortably quiet, but niccolo could feel you relax more, leaning into him a bit, your body becoming less tense. he decided to be bold. there was no way you hadn’t noticed his stares during class, or the way he’d always try to be near you. why not lean into it?

“you look good,” he complimented softly, his voice sweeter than it was with anyone else.

he was only met with a glare in response, and the feeling of you pulling away from him slightly. you figured he was joking, considering you just got out of bed, and were in a pair of sweatpants and whatever shirt you saw first before leaving, which was currently hanging suspiciously large on you.

he held is free hand up in a mock surrender pose, not daring let go of yours with his other. he even subtly pulled you back in a bit closer to him. he didn’t get to do this often, and he would be stupid if he didn’t make the best of it.

“i’m serious, i swear!” he tried to defend, a wide grin spread across his face.

you looked skeptical, but leaned fully back against his arm nonetheless, a gentler smile replacing the one he had been wearing.

“thank you,” you mumbled, and he could tell how tired you were.

part of him felt bad for keeping you up, especially when you had been so upset. but hey, you had chosen to walk with him, to hold his hand, to lean against him like this.

still he had his doubts.

“wanna go back home?” he asked quietly as his expression faltered a bit, not wanting to ruin the moment. the moment he hoped you were feeling too.

his question was answered with a shake of your head against his arm, and suddenly he couldn’t stop smiling.

“good,” he hummed, pressing a hesitant kiss to the top of your head. you didn’t respond, but didn’t pull away. he’d take the win.

you were suddenly happy for the lack of streetlights, not wanting the obvious flush on your face to be illuminated. he looked over at you, and you thought you were caught, but something rather unexpected fell from his mouth.

“is that my shirt?”

dividers made by h-aewo!

[remerg]

Probably re-redesigned these fuckers 4-5 times

So, ghouls but I finally have a face design for them (that I absolutely finally love)

Going in depth Abt their designs down here ↓

• Alpha: Should be the most "demon" looking-like, looks slightly old (is old), hence why the grey hair he has (Ω absolutely loves that tho). Fangs, Grumpy, but less temperamental than when he was first summoned at the clergy (bro has grown up). Should have matching "⸸" earrings with Omega. (Don't mind me forgetting those details in my own designs) Horns get extremely hot just like metal when awfully pissed, as he generates fire from his hair (and body actually) + In a very lovely relationship with Megs. 187cm/6'1ft

• Water/Delta: Fishman, pre-transition. Scales and gills, he doesn't like them being touched, is uncomfortable. Kind of an asshole but mostly would be a pretty "neutral" guy ig. Piercings, a LOT of piercings (and would get more if he could). Just a fella. 173cm/5'8ft

• Omega: Design is kind of a mix between a lot I've seen here (love each of them btw🖤), white and slightly-long hair, always tied up. Darker spots on face and body, should remind of a leopard. Lower fangs (how tf are those called???). Nose piercing.. (that set of gifs of MP playing in Roswell and wearing a nose piercing made me go nuts, couldn't resist on adding it to this fella.) Matching "⸸" earrings with ∆ + in a very lovely relationship with Alph. 193cm/6'3ft

• Earth/Pebble: More animalistic-looking like, big (supposedly) fluffy ears, lil moustache and beard that I think looks good. Smol horns, smol bean in general. Evil being, don't let his cute image trick you, he's an asshole, a cute one. Imagine those side horns as them being similar to rocks on his face, is something like that. Can feel things some of his pals can't, He's more like a goat thingy. 160cm/5'2ft

• Air/Aero: Hair is 100% inspired by Integra Hellsing (Hellsing Ultimate), I could dare to say that even his body could have a similar shape as her. He's the oldest along with A and Ω. Patterns on face, puffy ears, body is puffy/w feathers in certain parts, such as neck, legs and hands. Big long horns, can AND will turn his neck just like an Owl (so try not to get scared), legs are kinda bird-like, he fast. Long nails, tallest of the bois, actual form is that of a griffin. 200cm/6'6ft

[cutehoons02]

PRINCESS YOU ARE MINE

* pairing: Heeseung x reader (grumpy x sunshine) (she fell first he fell harder)

* tags: fluffy,kiss,a little smut,misunderstandings

* synopsis: Heeseung couldn’t fall in love with her stylist and her stylist couldn’t fall in love with an idol but the heart doesn’t rule

* word count: 2k (Tell me if you like this kind of stories:)

© cutehoons02 all rights reserved 2024.

(English is not my native language)

Thunder rumbled through the apartment you shared with your college friends in Seoul and before you could close the windows a heavy rain came across Seoul you knew it was time to go to bed, and that your boyfriend, you could call a boyfriend a guy with whom you made a lot of video calls after his concerts, with whom you shared a good hot plate of ramen in the restaurant near Han riven, you wore secretly his sweatshirts at work with still imprinted his strong smell of freshly made laundry but with a note of spices; he would not show up at your house. Yes, you could define the word "boyfriend" but Heeseung had never called you his "girlfriend", and then with the life of Idol you were terrified that this was for Heeseung only a small infatuation with the shy stylist of Enhypen.

The flight from Japan had been delayed by the heavy thunderstorm that hit Korea in those days and Heeseung was eager to escape from that plane and sink into the hot blankets of Y/n which tasted like cinnamon and vanilla, the leader of the Enhypen laughed at seeing the older member so madly leaving the airport and Heeseung gave him a mean look <<You know i’m happy to see you finally in love with someone makes come out in you a Heeseung that i had never seen in my life, you look just like a baby deer just came out of the Disney when you talk or see Y/n, but try to pretend you care about the fans outside!">> "stop Jungwon, i’m not in love with Y/n. We’re just two people who like to spend time together when we are not busy between trips, concerts, events, or shooting." <<At my house this behavior is called "friendship" but we all know that you are not only friends, if one of the other members tried to hit on her you would explode with jealousy or if one of the other dancers who accompany us during the tours ask her out what would you do? And by the way, you deceived yourself because you said that you are not friends but two people who spend time together..>> Heeseung hated when his smaller members made him see the reality of things, and one in particular was Jungwon; many underestimated their friendship because they expected to see him as the leader of the group but he and Jungwon had developed a strong bond over time that was the first to notice Heeseung’s strong interest in Y/n.

Heeseung had just gotten out of the taxi and little drops of rain fell in his hair with a loud puff. It looked like it was almost one o'clock at night. Maybe it was late enough to play at Y/n’s apartment so he decided to throw some small stones in the window of Y/n looking out onto the street, was at the fifth pebble that he threw and was getting a little too wet for his taste until he saw the curly hair and the head of Y/ n sticking out of the window. He walked into the foyer of the apartment and to her great astonishment saw Y/n dressed in a jacket, with jeans a little soaked, and with hair a bit swollen because of the humidity.

<<Angel, what are you doing up at this hour? Don’t tell me you were waiting for your favorite member of the Enhypen like a princess waiting for her prince because we all know i can’t act like a prince when you’re around.>> A small laugh came out of the mouth of Y/n and showed Heeseung that he had in hand a small bag from the pharmacy. "Heeseung if i expected you as a prince at this time i would still be full of pain because of the menstruation, i'm awake because even with bad weather i went to get some medicines that ended up alleviating the pain in my stomach cramps, but you princes can’t understand the suffering we have in the early days and i wasn’t waiting for you, i have more to do than wait for an idol to come and visit me when he’s free" He didn't expect this statement because between the two was the one who preferred to listen and you were never angry with him so a little surprised, and maybe they were true all those times that he heard the other members say their sisters were hyenas while they had the red period.

The thunder was rumbling through the kitchen where Y/n was preparing a good hot tea for both her and Heeseung, she would never have expected to see him outside after a trip of almost 10 days in Japan, was grateful not to have gone with them because she was seriously tired after all the trips they had made during the summer and sometimes she even preferred to break away from Enhypen especially from Heeseung to go and be a stylist in other Hybe groups. Heard the steps of Heeseung entering the kitchen with dry hair and a little uncomplicated because of the hairdryer, With an oversized t-shirt and grey track pants that wrapped her nice long legs and not to mention her b side but Y/n turned around and went back to sip his tea and take his medicine. The kitchen in his apartment looked much smaller and warmer with Heeseung in front of him but he didn’t want to be overwhelmed by the little feelings he had for the boy who had his eyes like a deer.

Heeseung was eager to feel the touch Y/ n and at the same time saw how much force of will tried to make the girl with curly hair/wavy in front of him, so without thinking a moment took Y/n by the hand and brought her into his room and if he put it on his legs, the warm bed and the little cinnamon candle was the bridge between their world and the storm that was outside. <<Tell me what you want from me, i just came back from a hellish trip and every hour that i spent on the plane to get to Seoul I sang silently of happiness to see you but now i found you here with this look that you would want to kill me with your hands.>> Y/n felt pathetic because every time she saw Heeseung she needed to see him for a second, breathe his pungent scent that came from her skin, or even worse be drugged by his touch and his voice. "In these ten days you’ve been away I wouldn’t have expected to miss you, at first i thought you were only good at flirting with everyone especially me but then you showed up in my house with ramen to share, and for my bad luck after you started kissing me before a show with the fear and the thrill that they would find us; besides, you’re cruel because if they found out you wouldn’t have any repercussions because you are Lee Heeseung instead of any stylist who can fire at any moment."

Heeseung looked bad and a slight smirk formed in his lips <<Well if you were afraid that they would discover it was enough to tell me that you did not want to kiss me or could use these beautiful hands to push me away, but your problem is that you seem so good and sweet girl with everyone who loves having my dirty marks under your skirt or near your breast. Don’t pretend to be innocent with me because we both know you love the adrenaline that goes up while i kiss you with the people waiting to send you inside another member to change so they can show up in time to sing a new song.>>

Heeseung’s long fingers made their way under your sweatshirt and little chills hit your body <<No other boy can make you experience this princess, remember only i can hold you in my arms, at the same time adore you and give you what your body needs.>> one hand slid into your life and the other began to tease your right breast and a moan came out of your lips, you were seriously in need of more so he brushed you a little further down until you felt his length pressed between your legs. <<Princess fuck your breasts are so hard and firm that i’m afraid to hurt you but i can’t stop myself, tell me if you want it to continue>> Heeseung moved his hand from your waist to pull back some curly/waves that fell in your forehead to your ear and finally Heeseung felt your lips after more than 10 days in her ears, and to tease him you kissed him slowly and slowly bit his lower lip to hear him moaning. You wanted to be in control of the situation but by your misfortune you needed his touch so much and knew he couldn’t give you all himself, so Heeseung turned the situation around and put you between your pillows <<Where is the shy girl i met at work who tries so hard not to be seen watching me dance and sing, stop thinking you’re gonna control the situation, you only needed my fingers on your body to get you shivers who knows how you’ll react to all the things i’ll do to you when you don’t have your period, princess!>> You felt take off your pajamas and Heeseung looked at you with a look that you had never seen on his face, was adoration of your body but at the same time hunger, and surely you were not ready to know all the dirty visions he had of you. <<Tell me what you want or i can stay watching you all night long" you needed her lips from all over your body and pulled her fluffy hair to your thighs but she stopped to look at you with a grin.>> "Stop being a jerk like Hee, i need you to kiss me for everything and we know that even you can’t take my eyes off me" Little kisses mixed with bites made their way between your thighs and with great pleasure you heard the boy moaning with deer eyes while you pulled his black locks to limit your groans. <<Groan for me princess, make everyone feel who can only make you react with only me kissing you and leaving bites in your thighs>> Groans came out of your mouth until you felt the weight of Hee’s body in front of you and bent down to kiss your lips, He brought your body over his chest and little kisses made their way between your head and your head <<What goes in your tiny head Y/n, i see your gears spinning very strong right now!>> You took her glue as an antistress and a little grumble formed in Heeseung’s smile "What are we? in the sense that you say i'm yours, but what are you to me Hee, for me certainly you are not a friend and we are not even two people who find themselves spending time together because these things are done by friends” you lifted from his chest and his big arms strapped your hips <<Did you and Jungwon agree to drive me crazy today>> You watched him laughing and he stood to kiss your forehead <<I was yours from the first moment i saw you Y/n>>.

[buckgasms]

I have filthy idea for trailer park bucky!

You talk to bucky about how one of the naybors you don't like very much is obnoxiously loud when she has her gentlemen friend over and you think anyone whose that loud in bed must be faking it! Bucky intends to prove you wrong by making you scream louder then the other woman

I'm really feeling blessed this evening with nonnies sending me their excellent thoughts 💭

And this is indeed an excellent thought 🩷

So you stumbled out of your trailer feeling very grumpy, your mood not improving when you hear Bucky chuckling at you as he lights a cigarette.

"Bad night sweetheart?"

You growl and take your seat outside with your breakfast and a strong coffee.

"Of course! It's her, again. Every time she has a visitor over she's screaming all night long. It's so over the top, no one screams like that during sex. It's ridiculous..."

You take a long sip of coffee as Bucky puff out a smooth trail of smoke, eyes glittering with mirth. Your phone starts buzzing and you wave at him as you head back in to take a call, getting your day started.

🌝

You are thinking of heading to bed when there is a tap at your door. You groan inwardly, feeling your body ache from tiredness, hoping whoever it is, doesn't stop for long.

You swing the door open and see Bucky standing there, looking divine as ever. White vest sitting low on his chest, jeans tight as always and a soft smile on his face and two beers in his hand.

"Oh, hi Bucky" you say, a genuine smile gracing your face as you step back. You might be tired but when he's looking that good, you think one beer won't hurt.

🌝

As the beer works it's magic you rest your foot on Bucky's lap and nudges his thigh. "So what are you doing here on this fine evening Mr. Barnes?"

He tilts towards you, gripping your leg and lets his hand glide upwards.

"I was thinking about what you said earlier, you know about screaming in bed?"

You giggled at the earnest look on his face, sighing a little as his thumb massages your thigh ever so nicely.

"Well it is insane, she's just showing off at this point...no one is that good..."

He grins wickedly at you.

"I bet I could make you scream sugar... Wanna give her a taste of her own medicine?"

You giggle behind your hand, wondering if he's really serious. But the devious look on his face is going absolutely nowhere.

"Really? You think you can make me scream like that pornstar next door?"

He nods, hands gripping your waist as he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips which you eagerly return.

He stands up and walks over to the window, pushing it open, checking that her window is open too.

"Come over here sugar... Wanna make sure everyone can hear you. Now be a good girl and take off that pretty dress."

You shimmy out of your dress and he sucks in a breath. He beckons you closer and you edge forward, pressing yourself into his chest as his hands grip your waist and squeeze at your soft skin.

"So beautiful sugar... Gonna make you feel so fuckin good..."

He presses kisses on your cheeks, down your neck and along your shoulder. Goosebumps break out all over your skin in the wake of his lips.

You moan and rake your fingers across his chest, whispering little pleas for him to give you more, always needing a little more.

He moves you to sit on the little table by the window. You shiver as he removes your bra, the cooler evening air dancing over your skin. You whine a little but he just chuckles.

"Need you to be a little louder than that... Here lemme help ya..."

He pushes you to lay back, your head right by the window as be leans down and sucks on your pebbled nipple, lavishing attention on you. You shudder and gasp as he nips gently and sucks hard at the sensitive skin.

You back arches and fingers thread through his hair and a long moan slips through your lips.

"Hmm not bad, that's a little louder but I know you can do better for me..."

His lips drift down and you feel him pull your panties down as he goes. More kisses are pressed to your heat and finally his tongue delves into your folds, torturing your clit with gentle licks and sucks.

A finger joins quickly after. He curls it in slow, firms strokes that have you emitting louder cries, a stream of 'ohs' filling the air. His mouth works faster and your feet come to perch on the table, so you can thrust your pussy into his mouth.

His chuckle sends a wave of pleasure through you and you whine when he pulls away, his finger still going strong.

"So greedy sugar. But you taste so sweet, I guess I don't mind." His thumb circles your clit and rubs hard without warning.

"I want you to tell your noisy neighbour who this pretty cunt belongs to. Say it nice and loud and then I'll letcha come."

He stands, pressing a hand to your stomach and adding more fingers and pumping hard and fast.

"Come on sugar, nice and loud...."

You can't really help the scream that leaves your lips and he drags you to your peak. You scream out his name, how you belong to him, over and over until your orgasm subsides and you lie panting on the table, his hands soothing your shivering body.

When you finally stop panting his hands pull you to sitting and he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"That was great, good job sugar...."

You think he's done but he pulls his cock free and rubs it along your folds.

"Bucky...it's too sensitive I can't" you moan as he presses in his fat, leaking tip. He tuts and grips your chin, forcing you to look into his devious eyes.

"We ain't done sugar" is all he says before he thrusts, gripping your thigh to hold you open for him. You can only hold on to his big shoulders as he pounds into you, the sensitivity almost took much.

"Buckyyy, it's so big..." You wail, you don't even realise how loud you are, but it spurs him on. He grips your hair and forces you to watch as he spears into you relentlessly.

"Such a messy girl ain't ya, making a messame?" Lookathat sloppy cunt, love it sugar, taking me so well."

You cry out and rub at your clit, spreading your lips to display yourself more to him.

"Jesus sugar, that's a good girl. You gonna scream for me? Or am I gonna have to make ya?"

Words fail you but you can emit a long loud moan as your walls squeeze him tight. He pushes you back down again and his hips snap just that much harder and faster. His growls and grunts are lost under the sound of your cries of pleasure.

He rubs hard at your raw pussy and you slam into your orgasm, a scream dragged from the bottom of your lungs as you grip the table to keep you grounded.

You feel him pulse within you, before leaning down to press kisses to your sweaty cheeks and forehead. You move your arms to wrap around his neck, fingers drifting down the muscles of his back.

You are about to say something when you hear a very loud, pointed cough. You both look through the open window and see your neighbour glaring at you both before she slams her window shut.

"Whoops"

Yes I was thinking about this vest....

[sealcowboy]

MERMAN JOOST HEADCANNONS

rpf || dni if you don’t like, just block

ʚ you first met him by accident. you had wandered too far along the tide pools at dusk, and there he was, tangled in seaweed, covered in sand, and watching you.

ʚ he doesn’t speak your language, at least not at first. but the ocean has its own rhythm, and slowly, the two of you find a way to communicate. he uses gestures, shells, and sometimes even sings to you.

ʚ can preform tricks! but will only do so for valuable items, such as jewelry.

ʚ he gifts you little treasures from the sea: a perfectly round pearl, a shard of sea glass shaped like a heart, coral that matches your eyes. he's like a little otter!

ʚ whenever he gets mad at you for whatever reason, he'll get small pebbles and stones from the seafloor, and throw them at you from a distance, with a small pout on his face as he does so.

ʚ i think of him as more bratty and grumpy than the other joost's.

ʚ he’s constantly jealous of boats. whenever you go on a boat to come see him, he'll grumble something, circling your kayak as if he's planning to sink it.

ʚ when storms roll in, he disappears for days, leaving you on edge, only to resurface with rare coral or pretty sea-glass, wordlessly pressing them into your hands like an apology.

ʚ if he ever finds out that you like sea animals, he will find a dolphin and he will drag it over to you with a big grin on his face.

ʚ has swum and dived while holding you, and once forgot you don't have gills and can't breathe underwater and almost drowned you.

while i was writing this, i accidentally opened a notification from tumblr and it auto deleted the goddamn draft, and then i spilled coke all over my phone and jeans and it looked like i pissed myself ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ love my life! 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

[cofkf]

Rain world sketches!!

Oh my beloved Looks to the Moon...

I like the idea of this one, but don't like the sketch anymore. Maybe i'll redraw it in the future.

Sillies!!! I'm in love with how many people here make their own ref lists with their characters headcanons!!! It's so nice to see different thougts and opinions. I made some sketches too!!! It still doesn't show my perfect vision of slugcats, but this one is good anyway.

LANTERN MOUSE!! I LOVE LANTERN MOUSE!! I should draw them more often.

Wipppp... Yay, another depressing art with Pebbles. Hehe.)

Anddddd some iterators sonas. The one on the right is me!! Grumpy >:( and another one is my bestie @surrealismintoxicated!!

(P. S. She drew adorable Moon please please please check her blog too 🥺🥺🥺🙏🙏🙏)

OOHHH YEAH. I ALMOST FORGOT!!

Here. Sprmstr.

Ohhhh, so much text, ooof translate everything into English is so hard...

[silver-the-pendejo]

Mischevious song

Music Mage!Reader x Legend Crack and Fluff Reader uses They/Them pronouns Words:974

Legend knew it was dumb on his part to be so irritated about where the portals were taking them but it was justified, he knew that most of the portals were random but, was it too much to ask to go back home to see his sister and Ravio, but noooh, fucking portals had decided to drop them in Calamity's Era.

The only good thing is that they were dropped near Castle Town, so it wasn't gonna be a long walk to find an inn to stay the night today. (The only problem was that they would have to go into the castle to report to Queen Cadenza and the incomodity that would be palpable when Wild was present was always something irritating for him.)

"Are we almost there?" Legend grumbled, running a hand through his hair, eyes scanning the surrounding area.

Twilight, walking beside him with Epona’s reins in hand, shot him a sideways glance and smirked. “You’re more grumpy than usual. What’s eatin’ ya this time, Vet?”

Legend huffed, adjusting his shield on his back. “What’s eating me is that we keep getting tossed around like rupees in a cucco storm, and we’re nowhere near home.” He kicked a loose pebble on the path, watching it skip a few times before settling in the dirt. “I just wanna see my sister and Ravio. Is that too much to ask?”

Sky, ever the peacekeeper, chimed in from ahead of the group, his serene voice carrying back to them. “We’ll get there eventually, Legend. The portals always have a reason for where they send us. Maybe we’re needed here.”

Legend rolled his eyes. “Yeah? Well, I need to be home.”

Hyrule, walking just behind Legend, chuckled softly. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure no one’s thrilled about being yanked around like this.”

Wild, who’d been unusually quiet at the front of the group, suddenly slowed his pace. His shoulders stiffened slightly at the mention of home, but he didn’t say anything. Legend noticed the shift immediately and sighed inwardly. Great. Now he felt bad for complaining.

Before Legend could backtrack his words, Warriors clapped a hand on his shoulder with enough force to make him stumble. “Look on the bright side, Vet,” Warriors said with a grin, “at least we’re not knee-deep in some swamp, getting chased by Moblins.”

Legend grunted, shrugging off Warriors' hand. “Yeah, because being stuck in Calamity’s so much better.”

“Hey,” Calamity shot from just behind Wild, raising an eyebrow. “My Hyrule’s not that bad.”

Legend gave him a flat look. “Debatable.”

Twilight chuckled. “You’re really bringin’ the sunshine today, huh?”

Before Legend could snap back, Wind bounded up from the rear, practically vibrating with excitement. “Hey! Maybe we’ll meet someone new this time! Or find out some embarrassing stories about Wild or Calamity that they’ve been hiding!”

Wild and Calamity exchanged a glance, and Wild muttered, “Don’t count on it.”

Before Legend could reply, a distant, unnatural roar echoed through the trees, cutting through their conversation like a blade. The Chain instantly snapped to attention, hands on weapons, eyes scanning the dense foliage.

Wild narrowed his eyes toward the noise. “That’s close.”

Calamity, walking just ahead, sighed and pulled out his blade. “Of course it is.”

The next thing they knew, monsters burst from the treeline—Bokoblins, Moblins, and even a Lynel leading the charge. The Chain moved without thinking, falling into battle formation like clockwork. Blades clashed, arrows flew, and magic sparked in the air as they fought off the horde.

Legend was mid-swing, his sword catching a Moblin across the chest, when something strange happened.

Purple lighting started to strike the monsters, and suddenly he felt stronger than he was before. Legend shook the feeling of whatever weird thing was going on and continued striking enemies, noticing how most of the lighting seemed to avoid him and the other members of the chain, as if it wasn't trying to hurt them. Suddenly, a spark of magic appeared in front of him, and a person with what looked to be color-changing hair, a red cape over their shoulders a long blue tunic, and a strange kind of weapon appeared in front of him, he could hear them singing (was that' mari-) but couldn't comprehend what was happening. “What the hell?” Legend muttered, slicing through the last Moblin in his path, eyes glued to the stranger. The Chain, battle-hardened as they were, seemed equally stunned, their rhythm thrown off by the unexpected musical onslaught. Y/N let out a laugh, finally standing still, their Hemiola being held in their left hand, while their right hand changed the disk that was on it while humming something, not paying attention to the eyes of the strangers on them.

Twilight stepped up beside Legend, his brows furrowed in suspicion. “What in Hylia’s name was that?”

Y/N finally looked up, as if they were finally remembering that they were just fighting alongside others. Their hair shifted colors a bit more before it finally decided to turn a brownish red, but still with some other colors showing in some of their locks. A lazy grin spread across their face as they twirled Hemiola and it suddenly disappeared into thin air, some colorful particles left behind. "That? Just a bit of a magic trick I know" They said lazily, barely glancing at them before letting out a yawn, giving the group a side eye, but their eyes lingering in Legend for a second, making a shiver go through the veteran’s spine.

But before Legend could say anything, Calamity’s voice cut through the tension.

“Wait a second…” Calamity said, his voice tinged with disbelief. He took a step closer, peering at Y/N as if making sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. “Y/N? What in Hylia’s name are you doing here?”

CLIFFHANGEEEER, anyways hope u all liked it, me is out cause i need eep @chopistuff look whatt i got as always request and asks open, BYEEE

LU Masterlist

[bepoopy]

Wait, I Got Chocolate?

Pairing: Jang Wonyoung x Fem Reader

Genre: Fluff

————————————————————————————

Valentine’s Day at our school is basically a chaotic festival disguised as an academic day. There’s an unspoken rule: expect dramatic confessions, classrooms flooded with heart-shaped decorations, and an alarming amount of overpriced chocolate.

The popular kids—aka Minji and Wonyoung—always get buried under an avalanche of gifts. Meanwhile, people like me? I come for the free homeroom attendance check and leave with my dignity intact.

Or at least, that was the plan.

The moment I stepped onto campus, it felt like entering a romantic war zone. Students were running around with pink gift bags, oversized teddy bears, and love letters written in suspiciously glittery ink.

Minji showed up, as usual, looking effortlessly cool with a casual shrug and an arm already full of chocolates. She didn’t even seem fazed.

Wonyoung arrived shortly after, her long hair tied up in a lazy ponytail, looking like she’d walked out of a teen drama. Within five minutes, she was surrounded by admirers, politely accepting chocolates with that signature bright smile.

And then there was me, clutching my plain backpack like it was a shield.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/n!” Leeseo chirped, skipping over with a tiny candy heart.

“Oh, thanks,” I said, pretending like that was the only gift I’d be getting today—which, statistically, made sense.

Minji sauntered over, casually tossing a box of chocolates into my hands. “Here. Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

I blinked. “Wait, what?”

“It’s just a pity chocolate. No need to get emotional.”

“Wow. Romantic,” I deadpanned.

She grinned. “I try.”

Wonyoung appeared beside me, her arms full of fancy gift bags. “Pity chocolate? That’s rude.” She dug into her stash, pulled out a heart-shaped lollipop, and shoved it into my hoodie pocket. “Here. From me. No pity involved.”

I stared at her, then at the lollipop, then back at her. “…Did you just tip me like a valet?”

She just winked and walked off.

By lunch, Minji’s desk was drowning in gifts. Wonyoung’s was basically a display shelf for premium chocolates.

Meanwhile, I sat quietly, munching on the pity chocolate like the emotionally stable person I am.

That’s when it happened.

A random first-year nervously approached me, holding a small, neatly wrapped box. “Uh…Y/n-sunbae? I—I made this for you.”

I blinked. “For me?”

She nodded, shoved the box into my hands like it was a bomb, and sprinted away without another word.

I sat there, frozen, staring at the unexpected chocolate like it had personally offended me.

Minji leaned over, raising an eyebrow. “No way. Did you just get confessed to?”

Wonyoung, mid-sip of her juice, choked. “Wait—what?!” She snatched the box from my hands to inspect it. “Who gave you this?”

“Some first-year,” I muttered, still processing.

Wonyoung squinted at the handwriting on the note, as if it contained secret codes. “Is this… a love confession?”

Minji burst out laughing. “Look at you! The mysterious, grumpy heartthrob.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“Sure you’re not,” she teased.

Wonyoung kept glancing between me and the box, her expression weirdly unreadable. Finally, she shoved it back into my hands. “Well… good for you.”

Was it just me, or did she sound slightly annoyed?

As we were leaving, Wonyoung slowed her steps until she was walking beside me.

“So… are you gonna text her?” she asked casually, kicking a pebble along the sidewalk.

“Text who?”

“The first-year. The one who gave you chocolate.”

I shrugged. “Probably not. I don’t even know her.”

She went quiet for a second, then mumbled, “Good.”

I glanced at her. “Good?”

“I mean—good because, like, she could be a weirdo or something. You don’t know her!” she blurted, cheeks slightly pink.

I smirked. “Are you jealous?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Pfft. No. Why would I be jealous?”

“Because I’m charming?”

She snorted. “Yeah, okay. Keep dreaming.”

But then she reached into her bag, pulled out another piece of chocolate—fancier this time—and shoved it into my hand without meeting my eyes.

“For the record,” she muttered, “that one’s not pity chocolate.”

And she walked off, leaving me standing there, smiling like an idiot.

Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

[eclipseberrycake]

Christmas Present (Bobette x Reader)

AN: Me: I'm gonna search and look for some inspiration about her personality!

Me: Oh!

There was none. I am feeding you all I swear. A single mom who works two jobs, who loves her kids and never stops, with gentle hands and the heart of a fighter, im a survivor.

Someone drew me fanart btw and I got so excited and happy that I'm cranking out these drafts so I have things to post even if I'm busy.

AND- I mention some other unnamed toons here- Know that I'm referencing the readers in the other stories bc its funny to me. So like if Sprout/Astro/Cosmo are with a distractor? It's probably distractor reader from my (Currently) 6 part series). If it's Vee/ Shelly/ Tisha, the toon from my CBH short. Just fun lil easter eggs :)

☁ So, Bobette. She's a lover. We know it. She's so full of joy and happiness and love it literally makes everyone around her happy.

☁ And she loves showing you her love!

☁ You're probably a holiday toon as well, sharing her love of the holiday. Think of like Santa clause and Mrs. Clause in a way. You two are just these beaming aspects of the holidays, going around and spreading joy.

☁ She knew you were last seen with Vee and another toon, laughing as you watched her partner sneak the Christmas sticks you snuck their way on the sides of Vee's head, much to the poor TV's chargin.

☁ She knows you must've been so adorable with that smile of yours and cheeks absolutely glowing! Oh it made her so giddy as she continued on her way, eagerly awaiting your presence.

☁ Bobette loves to be around you, btw, she loves being around you and loves coddling you, making sure you're as well cared for as possible.

☁ She goes out of her way to give you your favorite snacks every time she sees you, making sure you're well stocked all the time!

☁ Come to think of stocks, you probably were around helping decorate Gardenview! Silly her! You know that some of the toons weren't as excited about the holiday, especially the ones that were constantly on runs and too tired to put more energy into celebrating.

☁ That had to be it. Nodding her head, Bobette sets off once again.

☁ Sorry this is all over the place dang.

☁...Anyway. Bobette loves doing those domestic things with you. Making snow angels, snowmans, drinking hot chocolate in front of the fireplace, trimming the tree, all of it are things she checks off every christmas season. :)

☁ She has an actual list. Last season you surprised her with a sleigh ride (Sorry Rudie) and it was added to the list. It's decoarated with glitter pens and all sorts of stickers. It's framed too.

☁Walking around Gardenview, Bobette was admittedly a little confuzzled. She had been looking for you since early this morning, even calling upon the help of her trusted pet Coal.

☁ Coal couldn't care less truly, but Coal does absolutely love you. Like besides Bobette only one person has gotten a tail wag from Coal and it was you.

☁ Which to Bobette was simply a sign you were meant to be together. In her humble, correct opinion.

☁ Humming a merry little tune, she waves at Glisten, who's hanging up some tinsel near the entrance with another toon, all sorts of warm happy feelings surround them as they laugh at one thing or another.

☁ It warms Bobette's heart seeing everyone so happy. Little personal HC of mine is that Bobette can kinda like sense feelings? If that makes sense? And the happier someone is, the more energy/upbeat she feels, so Christmas is an especially good time for her because the happy feelings are all so abundant.

☁ You especially are just a live little battery of sugary, perfect goodness to her! Which is why she's so eager to find her own sweetheart and take all the snuggles owed to her.

☁ Even Pebble joins their hunt, yipping as he rubs up against Coal; getting a low grunt in reply. Her grumpy girl allows the other to run a circle around her before he darts in front of them, making Bobette follow if out of curiosity alone.

☁ Pebble takes them to the kitchen where Sprout is icing a gingerbread house with Ginger right next to him, frustration clear on his face even as Astro snickers from the other side of the berry.

☁ "You took my advice, Sprout!" Bobette cheers, watching the three walls he had managed to get to stand collapse. Sprout only gapes at it as Astro guffaws before hiding his face in the fur of his cloak. Ginger refrains from outwardly laughing as she resets the walls before Sprout can truly react, using a spare bag of icing to cement them.

☁ "This is why I don't do gingerbread." Sprout bitterly remarks, throwing his hands up in defeat. "I gave up movie night for this."

☁ "There's still movie night happening, it's just later, shooting star." Astro easily soothes, even if there's still a teasing grin twitching at his lips. Sprout doesn't seem to take this for what it is, grumbling all the while about how he could be wrapped up in bed right now, but he's not.

☁ Bobette laughs at the scene before turning to Ginger, who gives her a smile. "How can I help you, Bobette?"

☁"That's normally my line." Bobette teases before continuing. "I'm looking for my own star. Have you seen them?"

☁ Ginger thinks for a second, looking she's about to say no before a thought seemingly hits her. "Oh! Yeah! They were helping Cosmo with something near the tree."

☁ That makes sense. You loved the ornaments on the tree, Bobette really should've checked there first. With a thanks and well wishes, she takes her leave, hearing Sprout curse once more as his house presumably falls once more.

☁It makes Bobette laugh as she walks towards the tree, seeing Cosmo and one of the distractors laughing, the latter wrapped in lights as he sees how many ornaments he can hang on the wires.

☁ Continuing on her way, she stops only briefly at the sight of a new present under the tree. It's bigger than usual with a bright red bow clapping on top the green walls of the present. From there, she can see the large tag that reads her own name, and despite it all, she walks closer, growing absolutely giddy at the thought of what could possibly be in it.

☁ Plus, who really gets angry over a present opened a little early?

☁ Walking over, she cheekily knocks on it, hearing the hollow echo of it. "My oh my, I wonder what could possibly be in here."

☁ There's a rustle inside before the top bursts off and your wrapping your arms around her with a happy little cheer. "It's me!"

☁ "Oh my bells!" Bobette laughs, pulling you tighter against her chest as Coal bowrfs at the sight. You laugh happily, nuzzling into the fur of her sweater before separating, giving her a positively beaming smile before pressing a kiss to her lips. "I missed you!"

☁ "Not as much as I've missed you!" She proclaims, holding your cheeks if only to nuzzle happily against you. It makes you squeal in excitement before pulling apart only to press another kiss against her lips.

☁ Coal gives another low bork, putting her front little paws on the box before you lean down, cooing at the sight. "Aw my pretty girl! I could never forget you!"

☁ Hoping out of the box, you scoop up coal into your chest, nuzzling into the deadpanned rock, who's tail gives a single, dull wag. It's a win for you though and you smother the girl in a flurry of kisses. It makes Bobette's cheeks hurt from how hard she's smiling and she can't help herself before she's scooping you both against her chest.

☁ Bobette loves the holidays, don't get her wrong, but she loves you so much more. If she died then and there, with you and Coal against her chest, she'd die a happy ornament.