#I better start seeing cute fluffy fics of these two now

[marragurl]

Not the first to say it, but damn can’t believe Galladay really went from toxic yaoi to doomed tragic yaoi.

Alright fellow Galladay trash, where’s the modern AU fix-it fics?

I need to see Gallagher single dad with Misha plus their dog/cat Sleepie falling for entertainment company CEO Sunday. Don’t ask me how they met, fuck it, throw in bodyguard AU Gallagher who works part-time at a bar, boom there that’s how they meet, idk I’m making this up on 3 hours of sleep.

You’ve heard of slow burns, now get ready for Galladay blaze it.

They’re speedrunning the relationship from hate -> annoyance -> mild disgruntlement -> weirdly vibing -> ok wow never knew I needed that in my life -> Sunday is way too ok with spoiling Misha -> ok so we got married -> alright we’re dismantling the government now -> Sunday went to jail for 5 minutes for attempting “peaceful” world domination, don’t worry we (Gallagher) forgave him -> Sunday’s stepping down as CEO to run a coffeeshop idk look someone get him some therapy -> Robin is president now while she still goes on tours -> Misha won an engineering competition while this was all going on

Bottom line: Robin is out living her best life while Sunday is in the back somehow having the most insane week of his life. I have no other notes for her here except that she is happy, and successful, and is Sunday’s last remaining brain cell. She and Misha are having some fun Aunt/Nephew bonding times while Galladay are accidentally-on-purpose committing multiple war crimes.

No, we don’t have time to unpack 2.2 and all its trauma, we cope with modern AU :)

[chrisevansonly]

𝐉𝐞 𝐓’𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: girls night is always fun for you, and now charles knows you only ever have and will have eyes for him

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: slight swearing, very fluffy

𝐚/𝐧: this was a request from a while ago so I just decided to write it now, this fic has no french i have 0 brain power for it, and im so so sorry for takin such a long time to update, things have just been so busy and not amazing lately. anyway, enjoy 🫶🏻

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

Charles couldn’t hold back the smile on his face as he held your hip gently, your eyes narrowed at him in suspicion, clearly too many strawberry cocktails had been consumed tonight.

“Oh what’s that look for baby?”

“Don’t call me that. I have a boyfriend” you retaliated, words slurring as he nodded

“Baby, I am your boyfriend cmon, I have to get you home”

Shaking your head you reared back from him, your brain in its drunken state clearly not happy hearing that

“Absolutely not, I’m not going home with anyone, I’m going home with Charles”

Your friends were laughing at this point too, teasing you and poking fun at you, which you didn’t fully understand but Charles was ever the patient boyfriend, part of him slightly proud with your denial to leave the bar with anyone but him.

He had no insecurities in your relationship and he had the utmost trust in you, he just was happy to see you could handle yourself if you needed.

“How about I take you to find Charles then hmm?”

“Find Charles?”

He nodded, taking your hand in his as you reluctantly began to follow him, his arm moving to wrap around your waist as he directed the two of you out of the busy club, and over to his ferrari which was parked across the street.

“I know this car…” you said, letting out a yawn

“You do baby, come on…let’s go”

His voice was soft as he helped you into the car, doing up your seatbelt, holding back yet another laugh at the slight skeptical look in your eyes.

“Ready amour?”

At the sound of this a lazy smile pulls at your lips, thinking of Charles and the special little pet name he calls you

“Hmm Charlie calls me that…”

“He does, he knows it’s your favourite”

“How do you know?”

Smiling he leans down to kiss your forehead, happy to see your eyes slowly starting to close, hoping you’ll get some sleep on the way home.

“I just know amour…”

Just like he had suspected, you’d fallen asleep on the way home, your head resting against the window as he checked on you from time to time. Charles knew you’d either be a little more sober when you got home and recognized him, or he’d sleep in the guest room as he had before, he never wanted to make you uncomfortable if your brain wasn’t sober and you didn’t recognize him, which for the record rarely happened.

When he pulled up the driveway he opted to carry you upstairs, holding you to his chest as you slept soundly, only stirring when your back hit the mattress. Charles watching as your eyes opened and you blinked sleepily.

“Hi…”

“Hi baby…how are you feeling?”

Nodding you rubbed your eyes

“Hmm sleepy…thank you for picking me up”

“You’re welcome, you gave me quite the hard time…”

Groaning you looped your hands around his neck as he leaned over you, a teasing smile on his face

“I’m sorry baby…I swear I don’t mean it..”

“I know amour, if it makes you feel better I find it quite cute when it happens”

You rolled your eyes laughing softly, knowing he just enjoyed seeing you try and fight him off thinking he was just a random guy, it boosted his ego, but in the best way possible.

“How about I get you some comfy clothes and take your makeup off?”

He waited for you to nod before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips

“I love you, even if you forget who I am sometimes”

Hitting his chest gently you smiled

“I love you too…and i’m never drinking again”

Charles laughed shaking his head, knowing you’d very much do this all over again at another girls night in the future, but he didn’t mind at all. Especially when he got to cuddle up next to you every night, knowing he was the one that got to hold your heart in his care.

Even if you did forget who he was from time to time…

[cher-rei]

love love loved your recent trent fic!! could you please do another trent fic where him and reader have been besties for years but trent finally got out of the (best)friend zone, they’re on their first date and he’s super nervous? and reader is like ‘bro it’s me? why are u being so weird??’ but she doesn’t get just how long he’s waited for this. it’s a cute fluffy giggly first date where they navigate the new dimension to their relationship as they go from friends to lovers. thank you!! 🫶

one at a time [ T.A.A ]

I remember when I first noticed that you liked me back [k- cigarettes after sex]

pairing: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: you thought that it'd be easy leaping into a relationship with your best friend of five years, but your first official date with trent didn't go quite as planned which calls for a moment of anxious driven honesty

genre(s): new relationship, fluff with some angst

[wc: 2.05k] masterlist

notes: I had this marinating in my drafts forever, I'm so sorry anon😭😭 but I hope that you like it because I'm actually in tears help

trent knew that you weren't really a fan of restaurants, and to make you leave the house at 7 in the evening, only for it to start raining out of nowhere was an entirely different story. so why were you doing this exactly?

the two of you had just sat down at the table that trent had reserved at some fancy restaurant with a name that you didn't even want to attempt to pronounce. there was quite a bit of space between you and the other guests, seeing as it was quite reserved and you couldn't help but be grateful for the fact that your date wasn't going to be interrupted by someone asking him for a picture.

trent sat across from you in silence, the only other noise being the silent chatter from the other tables. it was unlike him to be this quiet but you were too caught up in the menu, joking about the dishes and their prices despite the simplicity of it.

you stifled a laugh at a memory, immediately wanting to tell trent but he was completely out of it. it looked as if he was holding his breath, lips pursed so tightly that they'd nearly vanished.

"dude are you okay?" you put the menu down and leant forward to get a better look at him. "you haven't said anything in like ten minutes."

he was speechless, every word lodged in his throat and he was sure that there were beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. you looked gorgeous. he couldn't even form a single coherent thought because he was absolutely memorised.

you were wearing the prettiest thin-strapped, black silk slip-on dress he'd ever seen, your bare shoulders (as crazy as it sounds) had him spiralling. it reminded him of the day he saw you in a spaghetti strap top, the comment of "you have a really nice collar bone. your shoulders too." slipping from his tongue without much thought.

that was 4 years ago, and here he was in a similar situation in a daze. as you sat across from him with such ease, your eyebrows furrowed in slight worry he couldn't help but wonder why it took him three years to accept the fact that he liked you, while it took another year to actually tell you.

what he didn't expect however was a pit of anxiety to form one month into your relationship. this was your first date as a couple and he was already blowing it— 30 minutes in and he hasn't said anything.

you on the other hand were growing more frustrated as the minutes passed. a heavy sigh left your lips, "you're not even listening are you?"

trent didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry." he swallowed hard, the realization slipping in that he was making this awkward. "I don't know what's going on with me right now."

you watched as he eased back into his chair with a hard swallow. this wasn't going to go anywhere and you could tell. you tried to blame his behaviour on work-related stress and came to the only logical conclusion at this given moment.

"this isn't going to work." trent eyes shot open in shock, afraid that you were referring to the relationship but you caught on. "I mean the date. today isn't a good day, so let's just go home okay?"

he fucked up. he could see it in the glint of anger and hurt in your eyes, a pang of guilt hit him like a truck when you stormed out before him. and the idiot that he was, only took off after you at least a minute later, only to find you angrily standing in front of the car in the rain because he had the keys.

when you both got into the car, no one said anything. the tension was thick and you felt as if you were suffocating just by being close to him and you couldn't help but want to cry. you were so uncertain about your relationship after this, especially since you liked him to the point of insanity.

your five-year friendship was something that you cherished so deeply, something that made you feel so safe and loved— yet here you were feeling like giving into your feelings was a mistake. when you first met him through a mutual friend you didn't expect the boy to become such a crucial part of your life.

the friendship started slow, but from the moment you got locked in an elevator together you found yourselves spending every waking moment of the day together. it was easy, so effortless and he was so caring and sweet that you couldn't not take a liking to him.

and when he confessed first it took you a minute to realise that he was serious your— eyes widening with an "Oh..." before he kissed you so gently that you went home that evening with the moment replaying about a thousand times.

but after a few days, something shifted. and this date only proved your suspicion right.

trent looked at you in the passenger seat, your back facing him as you stared out the window, your hair still damp. it was a risk but instead of going home like you wanted, he pulled over which raised some alarm for you.

"I'm sorry about tonight." was all trent could manage, a lump of guilt forming in his throat as he continued to watch the rain fall onto the windshield. and when you didn't answer him he felt like the earth had just swallowed him whole.

a pang of hurt washed over you at the sincerity in his tone, enough to make you sigh and turn to look at him— your lips pursed and your hand reaching out for his.

in truth, you weren't upset with him. you were just confused and so damn uncertain about everything. you were upset with the fact that he wouldn't tell you if something was bothering him, if he was uncomfortable or wanted to call it off. even if it was going to shatter your heart to pieces, he was still your best friend and mattered more than anything.

you urged him to look at you, he was hesitant at first but the look in his eyes made you melt. "talk to me." you ran your thumb over his hand, reassuring him that you weren't mad at him. "I need to know what's happening so that I don't end up storming out of this car in the rain."

it took him a moment to let out a deep breath and he shut his eyes tightly. "you."

your heart dropped to your stomach, and a hallow feeling entered your chest. "me? am I bothering you?"

when he didn't reply you gently let go of his hand but he was quick to pull it back, his eyes widened in realisation of what he said. "shit no, I don't mean that you're bothering me--" he fumbled over his words, "--I mean you are but not in the way that you think."

by now, your eyebrows were furrowed in utter confusion. you genuinely didn't know what he was trying to say, and his nervousness wasn't making you feel any better. "trent if you're going to break up with me in your car in the middle of the rain I swear to god I'm going to--"

"--I'm not breaking up with you!"

you threw your hands into the air, confused beyond recognition and slightly hurt. "then what are you doing?"

your raised tone made him groan in frustration. why couldn't he just say what he wanted to? "I don't know okay?"

your shoulders tensed up. "you don't know? are we just some big grey area now? you need to talk to me."

trent slightly shook his head, "its not that easy."

"it's not that easy?" your voice raised slightly as you repeated the question, dumbfounded. "dude it's just me. that should make it easy."

five years of friendship and now he choking up unable to talk? it's not that easy. those words rang like a funeral bell in your mind, echoing as if it were signifying your impending doom. was this it? two weeks was all it took for him to get sick of you? to make him feel uncomfortable?

trent scoffed and ran his hands over his face. and you were visibly not happy by his "amusement" to any of this. "do you find all of this funny?" you asked in genuine hurt.

he shook his head again and mumbled something under his breath. "you just called me dude."

"so? i always call you dude but that's not the issue right now."

"that's my point. this is all so casual for you, so normal and for me it's just--" just as he thought his thoughts were finally able to make any sort of sense, it got caught in his throat again.

you watched in utter shock as he groaned and tried to collect himself. this was the first time you'd seen him battle with his thoughts like this, nothing but uncertainty and frustration floating in the air but you waited for him to finish instead of interrupting.

this was new. you've had arguments before, but none of actual importance. but this— your opinions and demeanours clashing so easily made you realise that this was a completely different territory. it wasn't just petty arguments anymore and making up in five minutes, it was the need to communicate and understand each other.

your relationship held a much greater weight now and it was only the beginning.

"I've wanted this for such a long time," he spoke finally and caught your attention. his softened gaze settling on you, his best friend. "I've wanted you for such a long time and now that we're actually together it makes me nervous."

your lips parted in shock.

trent stifled an embarrassed laugh. "you make me fucking nervous. I can't believe I was able to be around you for three years while feeling like this and not mess our friendship up. I look at you and my palms begin to sweat, you laugh and my heart melts, you say my name and I feel myself blushing like a stupid kid."

oh this was not what you were expecting.

"when I look at you, I don't just see some idiot who looked at me like I was some alien when we first met— when I look at you, I see the girl who comes to all of my matches in my jersey, I see the girl who makes me want to shower her in every single bit of my love, I see the girl who makes me feel at home and loved."

by now you were crying, holding back the sobs and instead just letting the tears fall from your cheeks that trent was trying to wipe away, a smile on his face as he looked at you adoringly. like he didn't just make you think that he was going to break up with you.

oh, this was the boy you fell hopelessly in love with for sure. every single bit of him and his stupidity.

"when I look at you, I see my entire world."

you sniffled. a lot. absolutely out of control, nothing but incoherent mutters coming from your lips as trent pulled you closer to him for a hug. the tears fell helplessly into the crook of his neck where your flushed face was buried.

a teasing smile danced across his face. "why do you have to cry for everything?"

you pulled away from the hug and wiped the last of your tears and took a deep breath. you were so overwhelmed by everything that he said that you could barely think straight. "shut up, that was practically a proposal speech."

his smile only grew and he couldn't help but lean in for a small kiss, and left another one on your flushed cheeks. "we're nearly there anyway, might as well."

you hit his arm at the comment. "I hate you so much."

he caught your lips with his, a soft and meaningful kiss that left you both with an entire swarm of butterflies pounding their way out of their confinement. "well that's too bad, because I love you."

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ We Made It, Huh?

content: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader fic warning: fluffy af with minor mentions of nightmares, cuteness overload, painfully non-canon but also like i make canon myself yall stfu author's note: okay okay im a sucker for a soft family. could be seen as a part ii to coloring pages and baby fever and that's how im gonna put it on the masterlist, but honestly could be read as a stand alone. also, i need to know if you guys like the name i picked for sweet babygirl and if you don't do NOT say anything i will cry okay gg bye bye

many years later, after prophecies were fulfilled and many quests were completed, a pile of camp half-blood shirts lay dormant in the back of a closet, only to be brought out every now and then to reminisce but nothing more. y/n would have fulfilled her duty of the great prophecy on her twentieth birthday. two years later, she became an editor for a surfing magazine. leo would lay his life down to complete the prophecy of seven, though he came back a few months later to y/n a complete mess, which he made sure to fix. four years after that, he got a masters degree in engineering and opened his own firm. in the midst of those years, leo would propose and y/n would obviously say ‘yes.’ they would move out of camp half-blood into a house of their own - y/n shared a soul-crushing goodbye with chiron, someone she’s known and been raised by since she was seven. and, they’d have a little girl, amara esperanza valdez. which is why leo was currently standing outside a ballet studio, twisting and contorting a piece of metal into a little flower without even looking. the doors swung open and leo brought his attention to it, a smile settling over his lips at the little girl that ran towards him. he kneeled down, holding his arms open before scooping her up into them, her giggles contagious.

“daddy!” the girl giggled into his shoulder, clinging onto him. leo held onto her tightly, pulling back to fully take her in. she was still in her little tutu and leotard, her wild curls that she got from him slicked back into a bun that y/n had done earlier in the day. 

“hey, princesa,” leo mused back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before blowing a raspberry against her cheek. the girl squealed, trying to get out of his grasp. 

“ah! daddy!” she screamed, wiggling in his arms. leo stopped, partially because he was concerned she was gonna fall and also because they had to start heading home. 

“okay, okay. come on, girly, we gotta get home to mama,” he cut in, carefully opening the back doors to the truck and beginning to strap her into her car seat, amara all but a passive character in all of this. she was practically buzzing in her seat, something leo and y/n both worried were early signs of adhd. some nights, y/n would be unable to stop crying at the thought of their daughter going through what they did, her chest heaving with sobs. leo always tried his best to comfort her through these episodes, but he’d be lying if he said that the thought didn’t cause his blood to freeze up. 

“how was ballet, amara?” asked leo once they were on the road, glancing in the rear view mirror at her before swiftly returning his eyes to the road, his fingers rapping against the wheel like always. 

“good. we learned about pointe shoes today. and- and ms. hart brought in her own tutu from when she was a ballerina! it was sooo pink!” the girl squealed excitedly in the backseat, searching for her dad’s eyes in the mirror. 

“really, amorito? super cool,” he replied, nodding his head enthusiastically. they were only a few lights away from home now and leo could feel the stress of work and life ease away from his bones at the thought of seeing y/n, like it always did. 

“amanda tried to do an advanced move that ms. hart explained and her mommy thinks she sprained her ankle,” amara added, her eyes going to the views out the window, trying to wiggle in her seat to see better. leo frowned slightly at this news and what she was doing. 

“amara,” he warned, lightly, as he flicked his directionals on. the girl stopped her movements and slumped into her seat before realizing they were home, at which point she started buzzing again.

“daddy, daddy, daddy! i gotta get out! come on,” the girl whined, fighting against the seatbelts. leo laughed, moving quickly to free her.

“you’ve got time, babygirl, breathe,” he told her as he lifted her out of the seat and set her down on the ground, reaching back into the car for her pink backpack as she bounced up to the front door. amara reached up with her tiny hand and managed to open the door, swinging it wide open. leo managed to jump forwards and save it from smashing against the wall, knowing y/n would not have been happy. 

“mommy!” amara shouted as she ran into the house, almost falling as she tugged her shoes off. y/n leaned around the corner that led to the kitchen, a grin covering her face. her hair was pulled back with a braid and she had an apron wrapped around her waist, clearly making dinner. 

“my baby!” y/n shouted back, scooping the girl up into her own arms. leo closed the door, feeling his heart melt at the sight of his little family. he felt like he’d earned it; for every single tragedy he lived through, he got his dues with his girls. 

“mommy, mommy, amanda sprained her ankle today,” amara told y/n, excitedly laying her hands on her mothers cheeks. leo noted the small panic flare in her eyes.

“What were you guys doing in ballet today?” she asked, holding the girl against her hip as she stirred something in a pot.

“amanda was doing something she wasn’t supposed to,” clarified leo as he made his way into the kitchen, calming his wife’s nerves. he watched her release a small breath at the information before smiling warmly at her husband. she reached up with her free hand, setting it against his cheek and pulling him down for a kiss. 

“eww!” amara squealed, wiggling in her mothers grasp as she tried to escape. y/n rolled her eyes as she set the girl down, wrinkling her nose at her daughter. 

“one day, you’re not gonna find it so gross,” y/n stated, in a sing-songy voice, bopping the little girl’s nose. 

“a day that is very, very, very far away,” leo insisted, nearly growing pale at the thought of his daughter having her first kiss. 

“yeah, keep telling yourself that, hot stuff,” y/n mused, turning as she chopped up some carrots. leo came up behind her, setting his hands flat against her stomach like he used to when they were teenagers, his lips finding home on her neck. 

“how was your day, y/n?” he asked, swaying them back and forth to an unknown rhythm. 

“perfectly bland,” she smiled at him, the kind of day they grew to appreciate after their teens, “jason called. Wants to stop by sometime this week. he’s traveling about to see everyone right now since the airlines are giving him a pretty long vacation.” 

“hmm. i’ll call him back later, pick a day,” leo replied, smiling at the thought of one of his best friends. 

“uncle jace is coming over?” amara questioned, peeking her head into the kitchen. y/n hummed in response, giving her daughter a warm smile. 

“you need a bath before dinner, little girl,” y/n added, pointing a wooden point at amara, who squealed and ran out of the kitchen. leo pressed his lips to her cheek before patting her hips. 

“i can finish dinner. go rangle the beast,” he told her, tilting his head with a bright smile. 

“just like old days, huh?” y/n mused with a smile, walking backwards. leo rolled his eyes, pointing the spoon at her now. 

“don’t even start with me. you would have ran out of shields and swords years ago had it not been for me. how’d you win then, bubble brain?” he mocked back and y/n laughed, waving him off before managing to grab amara as she tried to run past. 

“What’s daddy talking about?” amara managed to get out between her squeals. y/n shared a small look with leo before pressing her lips to amara’s head. 

“dumb grown up stuff, babygirl. i’ll tell you when you’re older,” y/n hummed, swinging the girl around in her arms as she made her way up the stairs towards the bathroom. it was hard, keeping so much of their lives secret from amara but she was just too young to understand. she wouldn’t understand why family trees were hard. she wouldn’t understand why her parent’s were littered with scars, both visible and invisible. she wouldn’t understand why all of photos of her parents as teens had weird horses in the background and only orange shirts as far as the eye could see.

leo finished the soup, quite proud of himself for doing so without a recipe. he was on the phone with jason, leaning back against the counter as he portioned out the correct stuff onto amara’s sectioned plate. her bowl of soup was in the fridge, cooling down. as much as leo insisted amara had some kinda heat resistance, y/n was always too scared to test anything yet. 

“i’m telling you, she’s growing like a weed. you’re gonna see her and not recognize her,” leo spoke into the phone, a wide smile on his face as jason laughed. 

“i doubt that. those curls are hard to miss,” jason replied and leo could just hear the smirk on his face. 

“hey! she got those from her daddy i’ll have you know!” 

“yeah, she’s definitely your kid, no mistaking that,” jason laughed on his end, before there was a minor pause, leo having a feeling he knew where this was going. 

“did you…did you hear about travis?” jason whispered into the phone, gently. this type of conversation is becoming more common these days. leo sighed, leaning back and looking to make sure y/n was still occupied with amara. 

“yeah. connor called me. i haven’t told y/n yet,” he muttered back, running a hand through his hair. connor called him earlier in the day, telling him travis had been nearly killed by a couple of fury’s that caught him off guard at his job.

“i just- i thought we were done with this shit, you know what i mean?” leo continued with a huff. 

“i’m just worried that one day, i’m gonna get that call from you and y/n, or piper, or reyna, or percy and annabeth,” jason replied, his voice heavy, and leo could feel his tension through the phone.

“i know, trust me, i know. the amount of sleep y/n and i have lost over guardianship of amara is crazy. she’s in danger with every person that we love,” leo breathed out and jason hummed on the other end. 

“i’d take her in a heartbeat,” jason joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“percy’d kill you for her,” leo laughed. 

“he’s got his hands full with their kids. i’ve got the high ground here!” jason argued his case and leo just laughed harder. amara then came running into the kitchen, her curls free from the bun and bouncing and lightly dripping water. 

“daddy, daddy, daddy, is it uncle jase?” amara excitedly asked, tugging on his pant leg and looking up at him with excitement. 

“uncle jase? no, no, this is just the weather man i know,” leo mused into the phone a flabbergasted noise coming from jason as leo put the phone on speaker. 

“don’t listen to him, mara!” jason called, causing amara to squeal excitedly and made grabby hands for the phone. 

“be careful, baby, i’m serious,” leo told her before handing his phone off, excitedly blubbering to jason as she walked towards the living room. y/n walked into the kitchen with a different shirt on and some suds on her face still. leo laughed lightly as he raised his hand, softly rubbing the bubbles away. 

“is she on the phone with jason?” y/n questioned, peeking into the living room. leo hummed in response, pouring her a bowl of soup. y/n took it from him with a kiss before setting it on the dining table, something she was adamant about. leo followed, also setting up amara’s seat as y/n grabbed the little girl and phone.

“say goodbye to uncle jase, baby, you gotta have dinner so you grow big and strong like him,” y/n mused into the phone, earning a chuckle from jason, before amara cried her goodbyes. jason called back similarly before y/n took him off speaker and held the phone up to her ear. 

“did leo pick a day for you to come over?” she asked as she moved around the kitchen, pouring drinks and grabbing the little girl a napkin.

“yeah. thursday. he said something about amara having the day off,” jason replied. 

“perfect! We love having you over, jason, you know that,” stated y/n, smiling widely. 

“i love being over. Well, i’ll leave you guys to your night,” he added and y/n nodded even though he couldn’t see it. 

“yeah, of course. see you soon. love you, sparky.” 

“love you too, y/n.” 

y/n hung up, passing the phone off to leo before pressing a kiss to his cheek as she took her seat next to him. they ate their dinner, amara excitedly talking about her day. she told leo about how mommy made waves with the water of her bath, causing leo to shoot her a pointed look. y/n was quick to explain it away as ‘mommy magic,’ wiggling her hands at the little girl, who couldn’t stop the giggles from coming out of her mouth. y/n cleaned up dinner as leo took amara to the living room, allowing some kiddy show to play while she curled up on the couch next to him. once she was asleep and drooling all over leo, they gently picked her up and took her into her room. y/n tucked her in, pressing a long kiss to her forehead before getting up, allowing leo to do the same before they left, leaving the door open just a crack. the couple then made their way downstairs, laying back down on the couch, y/n’s legs draped over leo’s lap, her head resting against his arm, which was slung on the back of the couch. 

“connor called today,” leo whispered out, easily gaining y/n’s attention, her brows furrowing. 

“during my lunch. travis, he- he got hurt pretty bad today,” leo continued, trying to ease into the conversation, rubbing his hand over y/n’s, “While he was at work, a couple of fury’s managed to get the jump on him.”

“oh, gods…is he okay?” y/n breathed out and leo could feel her hands start to shake. 

“he’s okay. just a little banged up,” leo instantly soothed, giving her hand a squeeze and giving her a comforting look. y/n instantly moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his torso as leo replied in a similar fashion. 

“...will it ever end?” y/n asked in a small voice, which shook, “haven’t we given enough? i’ve spent my whole entire life on this crap and it still won’t leave us alone.” 

“it’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. nothing’s happened yet and if something does happen, we’re prepared,” leo muttered against her shoulder, pressing a kiss there once he was done.

“i know, i know…i just- i worry about her,” replied y/n, both of them knowing exactly who they were talking about.

“she’s a lot like you. she’ll be okay,” leo stated, smiling softly at his wife who rolled her eyes at him. 

“please, she’s your mini-me. don’t patronize me,” she joked, shoving him off her as she got up off the couch, subtly wiping away her tears, hoping leo wouldn’t notice. he did, but knew better than to point it out. 

“fine. but she looks just like you!” leo argued and y/n gave him a look, causing him to laugh. 

“liar! you’re just trying to make me feel better that i carried her inside of me for nine months just for you to steal all of her genetic code,” y/n huffed, locking the front door while leo locked the back door, the pair turning off most of the lights in the house, leaving little ones on for amara if she woke up to get water or use the bathroom. 

“no, no, no. she’s got your nose and your hair color! and when she wrinkles her nose, it’s got you written all over it,” leo raved and y/n laughed, shaking her head at him as they moved up the stairs towards their room. 

“she may have my hair color but she’s got your curls. and your ears and she’s got your stupidly cute thinking face,” y/n insisted, flipping the light on in their room and heading towards their shared bathroom. 

“so, what i’m hearing is that our daughter is a perfect mix of us?” leo questioned with a wide smirk as he followed after her, tugging off his shirt. 

“yup. sounds about right to me,” y/n mused, turning around and throwing her arms around his neck as she looked him up and down, a wide smile on her face, “hmm. what were we even arguing about again?” 

“can’t seem to remember,” leo added with a laugh, both of them quickly undressing before hopping into the shower together.

it wasn’t anything crazy intimate; at least, not in the sense you're thinking. they talked about their days, adding details they couldn’t exactly say in front of their five year old. y/n liked to wash leo’s hair, always huffing about how he didn’t take care of his curls. though he'd never admit it, he did notice his hair was better once he moved in with y/n and started this ritual. leo did make a comment about trying to make another kid that looks more like y/n while running his hand up her thigh but she gave him a kiss before shoving him off with a light laugh. she reminded him of their agreement to wait until amara was in school, to which leo pouted and cuddled up on y/n with an exaggerated sigh. the two moved under the covers of their bed, cuddling up to each other before losing their fight against trying to stay awake.

“mommy?” y/n heard, instantly forcing her eyes to open and focus as she looked at the edge of her bed, being met with her daughter’s blonde curls and bloodshot eyes. the girl hiccupped a cry and y/n was instantly awake, reaching over and pulling amara into bed with her, setting the girl in her lap. she cupped amara’s tear-stained face, her heartstrings pulling as she continued to cry.

“What’s wrong, baby?” y/n whispered, leo starting to stir awake next to her. he sat up on his elbows, looking over and taking in the scene before waking up more at the sight of his daughter crying. amara just continued to blubber, unable to get words out through her tears.

“baby, princesa, you’ve got to breathe,” leo muttered, reaching over and running a hand over her back, calming her down like he would y/n. amara started to take big breaths, trying to calm herself down. 

“good girl. tell mommy what happened, amara,” y/n begged, pushing back the girl’s curls so she could see her face better. 

“t-there’s monsters in my room,” amara hiccupped out, y/n’s face falling and her blood running cold. leo just stared, feeling his heart and mind working overtime.

“what?” she gasped out, her normally soft voice she’d use with amara lost. 

“i saw- i saw monsters in my room, mommy, they- they- they were out to get me!” amara continued, her breathing turning heavy again. y/n hugged amara to her body, shushing her and trying to calm her breathing again. she looked over at leo, who was already getting up and reaching into his bedside table, pulling out a knife that he quickly hid from amara’s view. 

“leo,” y/n begged, shooting a hand forwards to grasp his. he pressed a kiss to her head. 

“i’ll be back. stay here, y/n, stay with amara,” he whispered against her head. y/n squeezed her eyes shut and let go, even though everything in her body was telling her not to. she let him leave, waiting with bated breath while she tried to occupy amara and get her to stop crying. 

“baby, what did they look like, these monsters?” y/n whispered, rocking the two of them back and forth, the girl snuggly held against her chest. 

“like the ones from uncle nico’s books,” she replied and y/n’s heart clenched, partially because now they were running real risks and leo was taking his damn sweet time and because she was going to kill nico for showing her daughter those drawings. finally, the door swung open and leo came back, shaking his head at y/n, who let out a breath and managed to just barely keep her tears at bay. 

“i just scared them all off, amorito. no more monsters,” leo told her, pressing a kiss to her head with a shaky breath. amara and y/n both seemed to sag in relief, for two different reasons. leo slid back into bed next to them, wrapping his arms around his little family in hopes of keeping them this safe forever. 

“you wanna stay here with daddy and i?” y/n offered, though her tight hold on her daughter indicated that she wasn’t letting go anytime soon. 

“yes, please,” amara whimpered, snuggling into the space between the two. 

“always, babygirl, always,” leo replied, pulling the blankets up to her chin and tucking her in. they both stayed up, waiting for amara to fall asleep. she was a lot like percy, a deep sleeper that was constantly drooling all over their pillows. it never failed to bring a smile to y/n’s face, seeing her little brother in her daughter.

“i didn’t see anything out of place. i think it was just a nightmare. though, i have no idea where she got this idea of monsters from,” leo whispered to y/n, running his fingers through amara’s hair. 

“apparently, nico showed her some pictures last time he babysat,” y/n muttered back, sniffling as she tried to stop herself from crying. 

“i’m gonna kill him,” leo groaned, half tempted to hunt the goth down now. 

“i think it was an accident. you know he wouldn’t do that on purpose,” y/n reasoned and leo huffed, glancing over at his wife, realizing the state she was in.

“oh, y/n.” 

“i- i honestly thought you’d find something. i don’t want to live like this, leo, constantly scared something is just gonna swoop down and take her away from us,” reasoned y/n, the tears slowly trailing down her face she kept her eyes on her precious daughter.

“I know, honey, me neither. but, we’ll be okay,” hummed leo, reaching over their child and setting a hand against her damp cheek, forcing her eyes to him.

“how can you know that?”

“because i’ve got you. and you have me. nothing will ever be too bad that we can’t face it,” leo insisted, giving her a small tilted smile.

“together?” y/n offered, returning his smile with one of her own

“together,” leo confirmed, nodding his head in a way that couldn’t be argued with.

[rotten-corpses-blog]

Just the two of us

IT’S DONE!! omfg I think this may be the best thing I have written in a long time.

Content Warning: Breeding kink, mentions of lactation, smut, slight jealousy, fluffy ending

(I’m going to say this is how reader got pregnant with their baby for that other fic, I may make a series of Billy as a dad because it’s cute. idk) 

Billy hasn’t seen you in forever and it’s starting to catch up to him. Fucking Sidney stole away his Y/N again. It feels like you and Sidney are together all the time, leaving no room for him to spend time with you. So he decided to swing by your house to see if you're there, you said you would be back by now aways.

You had just gotten back from Sidney’s house, you had been feeling horrible for ignoring your boyfriend, Billy. You really don’t mean too, you and Sid’s group project is taking longer than expected. You then heard your window open, you looked up to see Billy climb through your bedroom window. “Billy! I didn’t expect you to come today.” you said. Billy got closer to you and then pulled you into a hug. “I missed you so much, god damn Sid took you away from me.” You giggled and ran your hands through his hair. “Bills, nobody could take you away from me, we were just working on a project.” Billy nuzzled his face closer to you, and took you closer into his arms. “Yeah baby, you're mine. All mine.” he said as he started to kiss your neck. You moaned at the slight touch. The affection that Billy was giving you was starting to get more aggressive, you felt his hands run down your body towards your boobs. “God babe, I can’t wait to claim you.” Billy said, now looking into your eyes. “What do you mean by that?” you asked with a blush on your face. Billy chuckled, “I’m gonna put my children in you.” he whispered, you felt your face get even redder than it was before. You couldn’t even respond before Billy’s lips were on yours. As you two were kissing you felt Billy’s hands run down your body and then ripping off your shirt and sleep shorts. “No bra or panties?” Billy said as he looked up and down your naked body, “Shit, you're so beautiful.” You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as Billy looked at you like a wolf who caught his prey. “B-billy please.” you whined, you sounded so pathetic. “What is it baby? Billy asked, “I need you Billy…” you moaned, rubbing your thighs together to try to get some kind of friction to your aching, wet cunt. Billy looked over your body once more before getting off the bed and getting rid of his clothes. You were practically drooling over his cock the second you saw it. “Is my little breeding bitch ready for this cock? Just from the look on your face I think I know the answer.” Billy said, as got back into his place between your legs. You felt his red tip rub against your entrance, “You ready for this baby?” Billy asked in a low voice, when you nodded you felt him slide in. The pleasure you were both getting was incredible, causing you both to give out loud moans. “Oh baby, I have been thinking about this for so long. I have been just waiting to fill you up with my babies, make you a mother.” Billy groaned out, You moaned at his words and the thought of being impregnated tonight wasn’t a bad thought. Billy’s thrusts started to get faster until he was pounding you so hard your boobs were bouncing in front of him. Billy softly grabbed one of your breasts and started to squeeze it, “You have such pretty tits, they will look even better filled with milk for our babies.” Billy said as he bent his head to lick your nipple. Between Billy’s words, thrusts, and stimulation on your nipples, you were in heaven. You felt yourself come closer to an orgasm, and by way Billy was thrusting into you, he was close too. Billy quickly pulled you into a mating press and fucked you rough. “Billy! I’m gonna cum!” you yelled, “Me too baby, fuck i’m going to fill your womb!” Billy groaned after a few more thrust you felt your orgasm course through you. You loudly squealed as Billy came inside of you, coating your insides white. Billy flipped you two over and laid you on his bare chest with his cock still inside of you plugging up the cum. Your eyes met Billy’s, you always think your boyfriend is beautiful, but in this moment he looked enchanting. “I love you Billy.” you said through pants, Billy gave you one of his rare real smiles and kissed your forehead. “I love you too babe.” When you went to sleep that night you could have swore you heard Billy whisper a soft “Thank You” in your ear.

[multifandom--mess]

Hannigram Fic Recs! pt.2

Here it is, the big fat fic recs post I've been putting off for like two months but at least that means I had time to read a shit ton of fics. I made sure to do a mix of short and long fics this time around since the first part were all long ones. Enjoy!

part 1

》 The Lamb and His Monster by petrodactyl352 (Explicit)(104k)

Will has always been drawn to the macabre. The proverbial flame upon which he has burnt his fragile moth’s wings time and time again, it’s why he had fallen in love with Florence and why he alone seems to see the beauty in the grisly but exquisite work of Il Mostro. But when he meets a young man in the Uffizi Gallery whose sketchbook is filled with nothing but page upon page of intricate renditions of the Primavera drawn in reverent strokes of pencil, he realizes he may not be alone in his fascination with the Monster. As they lift veils and scale forts and slowly begin to understand each other, Will gets a taste of exactly how bright the cinders of intrigue can burn—and how quickly they can kindle into an inferno of obsession.

(Young hannigram in Florence ahhh this is seriously one of the best fics i've ever read it had to be at the top of the list)

》 Spectral Hearts by mattHughdancy (Explicit) (16k)

Will has a meltdown at a crime scene. Guess who’s called in to help.

(Another top fave of mine they are so fucking cute in this fic 🤧 features autistic Will, and Hannibal just loves him so much oh my goddd my heart exploded reading this)

》 lay like a flood spills away by bleakmidwinter (Explicit)(35k)

Will Graham meets Hannibal, a frequent cruiser, at an open-minded nudist lake. Despite his reservations, Will is drawn to him, but is eventually forced to question his mysterious nature when the lakeside regulars start to go missing.

(I loved this one bc what better setting than a nudist lake. This is just gay as hell honestly lmao bc the lake is all dudes and Will is "straight" at the beginning until he meets Hannibal and it's all downhill from there. Definitely give this one a read it had some hilarious moments too)

》 Doing Things That Friends Don't Do by HigherMagic (Explicit) (39k)

A year after the fall, Will and Hannibal have settled into a fairly blissful, domestic harmony. But Will's imagination has never let him simply enjoy what he has - why should it start now?

(Basically Will trying everything in his power NOT to have sex with Hannibal but of course we all know he can't keep it together. They are so horny for each other in this i died laughing so many times. Also this author is such an amazing writer expect multiple recs from them in this post)

》 Railroad Romance by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles (12k)(Explicit)

Hannibal is still Hannibal, and Will is still Will. Except Will is not part of the FBI and they meet on a two day train trip from New Orleans to Baltimore.

(A strangers to lovers meet-cute on a train. Lots of fluffy moments and of course train sex ensues)

》 Three Stars by beforethedawn (94k)(Explicit)

Three months after the fall, Jack finally tracks them down in Canada and Will and Hannibal have to make a run for it, slumming it through America in three star hotels and eating sub par food.

(Hannigram roadtrip!! This fic was so fun I loved it. They take on the identities of some familiar Mads and Hugh characters ;)

》 Unexpected Delight by HigherMagic (Explicit) (61k)

Will has a kink that he’s deeply ashamed of. Unbeknownst to him, Hannibal has the same or a similar/compatible kink. They get together, and Will is going out of his way as he usually does to seem like his sexual tastes are as “normal” as possible. As a result, Hannibal gets the idea that Will is super vanilla and maybe a little prudish, and not wanting to scare him off, is also keeping his kinky side on the DL. This goes on for while, with them each trying super hard to hide how kinky they are and act as “vanilla” as possible, to hilarious results, all while privately thinking the other one would be super freaked out if they knew since they’re obviously so sweet and normal.

(This whole thing is literally ALL smut 😭😭 but Han and Will love each other to death and the sex is so good y'all omg I had to stop reading multiple times to catch my breath)

》 The Substitute by Devereauxs_Disease (Explicit) (10k)

When Hannibal tells Will he's sick, Will is skeptical. Before he knows it, he's laying in a hospital bed and being told he's going nowhere for two weeks. Will is distraught until Hannibal swoops in and offers to take over Will's courses at the FBI Academy. Will doesn't mind Hannibal showing up every night with a home-cooked meal, but he might just resent Hannibal becoming the most popular teacher at the Academy in just two weeks...

(A seaon 1 au if Hannibal wasn't an asshole had told Will about the encephalitis. This is hilarious tho because the students don't like Will no more when he comes back and they keep asking about Hannibal 😭😭 poor Will lmaoo)

》 When This Old Tired Body Wants to Sing by KareliaSweet (Explicit) (7k)

“Fuck me quicker, darling,” he purrs with liquid insincerity, “God forbid you see my face.” Will never touches him unless it is in the dark. In the daylight he is a ghost.

(Will being an asshole and only fucking Hannibal in the dark ugh 🙄 but things work out eventually so don't worry!)

》 Maybe Tomorrow by Shotgun_sinner (Explicit) (26k)

After recovering from their tumble off a cliff, Will agrees to get Hannibal to Portugal, where the good doctor can start a new life for himself. In exchange, Will can take the boat and return to his life, or start over himself. A storm hits on the open water, leaving them stranded somewhere in the Azores. With no one else on the small island, they're forced to work together for survival, and work through their violent past in order to get along.

(A survival au! I LOVED this and author is another fave of mine. I go crazy for a good stranded on a deserted island trope and this did not disappoint. Also there is an insanely funny part where I absolutely DIED. You'll know when you read it 💀💀)

》 I've Always Been A Daughter by air_of_the_Waterfall (44k)(Explicit)

It's been a month since Will and Abigail ran away with Hannibal. Living in a safe Canadian town, Will and Hannibal are free to explore their newfound intimacy and Abigail has a chance at the future she craves. However, upon meeting Hannibal’s sister Mischa and her daughter, loyalties are tested and insecurities run rampant. The Lecters have an undeniably dark past, and as Abigail and Will fall deeper into its truths, Hannibal’s manipulation and misguided love come to light more clearly than ever before.

(This fic is truly a hidden gem I am so glad I found it. Murder family post-mizumono and also MISCHA LIVES. The plot is so well written and I love Mischa's characterization. Definitely give this one a read, yall it is SO GOOD it deserves so much love)

》 Home is Not a Place by Shotgun_Sinner (11k)(Explicit)

Post-Fall, Hannibal recovers from his injuries. Will takes care of him, and their relationship evolves much more easily than Hannibal thought it would. The only issue is that Will is a constant presence, and he hasn't had alone time in three years. It ends up not being an issue at all.

(This one is so sweet. Basically Hannibal wants to jerk off but he can't because Will is just always there and he hardly gets a moment alone and he'll feel bad for telling him to go away 😭😭 but they finally get together in the end

》 Held in the Highest Regard by HigherMagic (12k)(Explicit)

What happens when a group of serial killers pick the absolute worst targets? Will is already having a pretty rough night, since Hannibal proposed to him and Will said 'No' for reasons he still hasn't quite figured out yet. It's not their fault - they couldn't have known - but sometimes people have to learn lessons the hard way, and Will could definitely use some stress relief.

(If you are familiar with the movie 'The Strangers' then you'll really like this one. I reread it like three times it was so good. Shit had me tweaking omg this is like the perfect au for them)

》 Green-Eyed Monster by CestPasDuBaudelaire (53k)(Explicit)

Will and Hannibal have settled in Cuba and, for the past year, they have been living their happily ever after in a small hidden community for retired wanted criminals. However, at the hazard of a gathering, Will is faced with an unbelievable fact, other members of the community may also fancy his monster of a husband. Then comes Will's spiraling, as he learns to come to terms with a disastrous, chaotic and slowly overwhelming possessiveness. And of course, feelings are never easy to deal with, when Hannibal is involved. A smut character study in three acts exploring Will's possessiveness.

(Top!Will my beloved. Don't let the title fool you, this was so fun to read and I love the community for wanted criminals idea. And possessive Will is always a treat ;)

》 Haunted by Anonymous (165k)(Explicit)

Still recovering from their fight with Dolarhyde, Will and Hannibal escape to New Orleans with Chiyoh's help. But Will is still struggling to accept Hannibal and his own darkness, something that Hannibal has every intention of helping him overcome...

(And finally I leave you guys with this monster of a fic. So sad that the author chose to go anon but if they somehow see this I hope they know how much I love this story. Will is struggling and Hannibal is an asshole at certain points but when is he not? Lots of references to Will's past too and some stuff about his mom that's very interesting)

I hope you guys enjoy these stories as much as I did. If you read any and want to discuss my messages and ask box are always open! ♡♡♡

[thepixelelf]

Bluff and Nonsense - she/her ver.

genres: romance, angst, some fluff, university au, not a fake dating au pairing: female reader x hoshi words: 17.0k (01:08) warnings: cursing, alcohol notes (orig, 2020): "so the title is fluffy and this was a title fic, but then it ran away on me. I really like this one so... yeah. Enjoy!” update, 2023: this is the she/her version of Bluff and Nonsense. other than the pronouns, nothing else has been changed. you can find the original they/them version here, and the he/him version here

“Soonyoung? Yeah I know him, you should too. He’s on the uni’s dance crew, and ever since he joined them, their popularity’s skyrocketed. I’ve met him a few times, great guy — got a tendency to run his mouth but hey, no one’s perfect. He’s smart anyways, probably knows how to deal with the consequences, right?”

or

Soonyoung never thought one bluff could lead to so much nonsense.

Kwon Soonyoung is a man of many talents. He’s the guy who could fit a whole orange in his mouth in fourth grade, the guy who always knew how to make the social studies teacher talk about his divorce instead of the world wars, and the guy who brought a live pigeon to school with no one questioning him whatsoever. He’s also the head choreographer of the university’s dance crew — you barely knew there was a dance crew until he showed up with his hand-drawn posters — as well as a totally well-rounded fine arts major. C’mon, who takes a chemistry course in the fine arts? Kwon Soonyoung, apparently.

Of his many talents though, lying is not one of them.

Which is why, when asked if he likes anyone, Soonyoung says your name instead of simply saying “no” (a much better option in hindsight). He actually likes a girl on his dance crew. Cute, funny, has those eyes you can just get lost in — lord knows Soonyoung has. But, at this relatively quiet party, with half the guests crowded on Seungcheol’s couch and the other half on the disgusting carpeted floor of his apartment, Soonyoung can’t admit his real crush because she’s sitting just a few feet away.

It wouldn’t be such a bad lie if you weren’t also sitting a few feet away.

You’re on your phone when he says your name in his heartbeat-induced panic, but you look up at the sound of it, as does Seungkwan, who was reading something on your phone from the beanbag chair you’re both sitting in.

A chorus of low, teasing ‘ooh’s rises throughout the room, almost like it’s eighth grade again and Soonyoung just got called down to the office. Except now, he might actually be in trouble. He gets a few claps on the back from his friends close enough to reach, commending him on his bravado even though he doesn’t deserve it. Really, the whole situation only dawns on Soonyoung after 6.8 seconds, which is a bit too long considering he made the situation in the first place. Blood rushes to his cheeks, not because of the alcohol in his red cup he’s yet to drink, but because you’re looking right at him, and he has no idea what to do.

Soonyoung doesn’t know you very well. In fact, he’d almost say he doesn’t know you at all.

You’re Seungkwan’s friend from one of his classes — computing science, if Soonyoung remembers correctly, but he’s not totally confident. The only reason you came tonight is because of Seungkwan. You don’t know anyone else.

With a tilt of your head, your face scrunches with question, and you look to Seungkwan for help. You know Soonyoung said your name, but you missed hearing the context. It looks like Seungkwan missed it too, seeing as the conversation you two have only makes your brow furrow more as the room chatter picks back up. Everyone else is already over Soonyoung’s sudden confession when Jeonghan starts talking about something else.

Except Soonyoung’s friends, of course. That would be too easy.

Mingyu turns to him with a stupid smile, his cheeks red from both the free opportunity to tease his upperclassman and the light beer he’s been sipping and pretending to get buzzed on all night. He nudges Soonyoung with his shoulder where they sit on the floor, leaning in to speak under the conversations surrounding them. “You didn’t tell me you like her,” he says, the jesting tone in his voice clearer than water.

“Yeah...” Soonyoung doesn’t know why he doesn’t just retract his confession, it’s not like Mingyu is close to you or anything, he’d understand. But then again, he’s bad at lying, and the girl he likes is still sitting on the couch. He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s sort of a recent thing.”

Mingyu’s smile only widens at Soonyoung’s response, his eyes turning to slits with the rise of his cheeks. “Soonie’s in looove~!”

And Soonyoung doesn’t know what to say. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before, not exactly like this, anyways. So he just looks down, scratches the back of his neck again, looks at one of his dance crew friends when she calls his name.

He doesn’t dare glance your way for the rest of the night.

Turns out you do know someone else other than Seungkwan, because once most of the guests have cleared out, leaving only half the boys to clean up, Seokmin approaches Soonyoung as he scrubs the sink of whatever that weird green stuff is.

He asks how Soonyoung knows you and says off-handedly that he’s never even seen the two of you talk. (Which is right.) He says these things shouldn’t be joked about, that you’re a person with feelings, and Soonyoung should leave you alone if he’s just doing this for comedy’s sake.

Soonyoung thinks he’s never seen Seokmin so serious.

It’s probably fine. You haven’t said anything good or bad, and other than the occasional tease from his friends, no one has taken anything too far. Maybe you’ll forget about it tomorrow. Maybe he’ll forget about it tomorrow, and it will all be okay.

Besides, it’s not like he actually likes you. And his real secret is still safe and sound.

•

Of Soonyoung’s many talents, making people sad is also not one of them.

It’s not that he actively tries to cause misery only to fail, it’s that he can’t stand upsetting anyone. He’s a people-pleaser by nature, that’s just how it is.

So he doesn’t say no when you ask him out for coffee.

And he smiles at you when you try to make conversation, even though it’s awkward and hesitant despite having a mutual friend like Seungkwan. It’s not so bad, he thinks. You’re trying, at least, and when you ask him about his interests, you actually listen, which isn’t common when he tends to over-explain his love for dance and performance. He has a coffee in his hand too, so that’s a plus.

You ask him if what he said at the party was true, and something in your eyes makes him say yes.

•

There are a few more coffee dates after that. It’s nothing official, and Soonyoung is hesitant to call the meetups “dates” because he’s not interested in dating you. But it’s a little late for that.

You seem brighter, though, every time he sees you again; he can’t bring himself to take that away, to cut the cord, to clean this mess he made.

Something about the way you two talk is nice, at least. Soonyoung can’t quite put his finger on it, and he tells himself that’s what’s drawing him back every time, not the guilt he feels sunken in his ribcage whenever you smile his way. It’s not that deep, he repeats to himself whenever you wave to him on campus, making him feel obligated to walk you to class. It’s not that deep.

He’s in the library one day when he spots you at one of the tables, books open and spread out as you scribble down notes, a pair of earbuds dangling from your ears. You haven’t seen him, so he doesn’t try to approach, just ducks back behind the bookshelf he’s been exploring. His hand is on a book he might like when a voice stops him.

“You know you’re an idiot, right?”

Minghao leans against the opposite bookshelf, his arms crossed, locked and loaded for judgement. Soonyoung looks around, but of course he’s talking to him. They’re the only ones in the row.

“Um, how do you want me to answer that?” he asks, unsure of exactly what Minghao’s talking about. Yeah, he knows he’s a bit dense sometimes, but not all the time.

Minghao rolls his eyes. “I know you like Sehee. You haven't stopped laughing like an idiot at her bad jokes." He nods his chin outwards, gesturing over Soonyoung's shoulder and through the bookshelves towards where you're sitting. "What are you doing messing with Seungkwan's friend?"

It’s not too surprising that Minghao knows — he’s an intuitive guy, but Soonyoung is still caught off guard. He asks first, under his breath, “Does anyone else know?”

“If you mean dumb and dumber, then no.” Minghao jerks his head to swing his dark bangs out of his eyes. Everyone keeps telling him to just cut his hair shorter, but he refuses for the aesthetic, or something. “Chan is way too focused on dancing to notice your dumbassery, and Jun is about as observant as a fishcake when it comes to feelings.”

Soonyoung’s shoulders fall in relief, though he didn’t even realize they’d tensed up. 

“But that’s not the problem here. Why are you playing around with her if you’re into Sehee?”

“I’m not—” Soonyoung pauses, thoughts deliberate, “—I’m not playing around, okay? I just... I don’t know. You were all looking at me, and I couldn’t just say Sehee's name, she was right there!”

Minghao cocks an eyebrow at that. “But you could say hers?”

“It was a moment of weakness.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m aware.”

Soonyoung groans quietly — he’s still in a library after all. He covers his face with both hands, not wanting to look at Minghao nor have Minghao look at him. For a second, it’s blissful, awkward silence, which Soonyoung would take over Minghao’s scolding any day. But of course, no haven lasts forever.

“You’re gonna have to tell her,” Minghao says, and he’s probably right. No, he is right, Soonyoung just doesn’t want him to be.

“I can’t do that! I said I like her— twice!”

“Twice?”

“Twice!”

Minghao only drops his head for a second, scoffing at the whole situation. Soonyoung wishes he could do that too, just laugh it off because it’s someone else’s problem.

“Well, you’re going to have to say something sooner or later.” Meeting his eyes, Soonyoung realizes Minghao might actually be worried. About you, or him, or something else, he’s not sure, but the subtle fold of Minghao’s eyelids tells Soonyoung this is about more than just calling out idiocy. “And I think sooner will hurt less.”

Soonyoung knows he’s right. But he doesn’t like it.

Before he can come up with a rebuttal, though, Minghao’s hands are on Soonyoung’s shoulders, and he’s pushing him out of the row of bookshelves and straight towards your table.

“You can do it, Soonyoung, just rip the band-aid while you still can,” he whispers in Soonyoung’s ear right before one last push at his back.

Soonyoung stumbles a bit, but once he regains his footing, Minghao’s already gone and you’ve already noticed the ruckus. You pull one earbud out with a bright smile. It’s so jovial that Soonyoung almost forgets why he’s here.

“Hi Soonyoung, I didn’t see you come in,” you say, and there’s no way you’re this energized just from studying in a library.

“Uh... hi.”

“You’ve actually got the perfect timing.” Waving to him, you gesture for him to sit next to you, and he does. You pull out some sort of planner, opening it to a few months from now. “I wanted to ask when exactly your showcase is? Seungkwan’s no help at all because he only cares about his concerts and stuff. Honestly, there aren’t that many...”

You’re going to have to say something sooner or later.

Soonyoung picks later.

•

“So when are you gonna ask her out?”

Jihoon stands in front of the stove, watching his hot water simmer, a bag of dry ramen in one hand and long cooking chopsticks in the other. It’s Soonyoung’s turn to make dinner tonight, but since he says he isn’t hungry, Jihoon’s scrounging it out himself.

Soonyoung, on the other hand, sits at their tiny dinner table, his forehead pressed to the cool surface, arms hanging limp at his sides. He mumbles something of a response, but it’s nothing more than a questioning grunt, if anything.

“Oh, you know.” Even when Jihoon says your name, Soonyoung stays still. “Only the girl you’ve been on several “dates” with ever since you confessed to her at Seungcheol’s party. When are you gonna ask her on a real date?”

Tired, Soonyoung groans. “When the time is right, I guess.”

•

You work on campus. It’s some part-time job you don’t care about enough to even complain over, despite the fact that you have to deal with annoying university kids every day. Soonyoung finds this out when he has coffee with Minghao in one of the buildings he doesn’t normally frequent, and only goes to today since Minghao has a class nearby in the next hour.

The coffee isn’t great, and it’s too expensive, but Soonyoung drinks it anyways. He much prefers the coffee from the cafe he goes to with you. Because the coffee is better. Obviously.

He hears your voice first, words indiscernible with distance and overshadowed by a much louder, angrier one, but still. Minghao sees you first, though, and he points past Soonyoung to the student printing center, where you’re standing behind the counter and arguing with some guy. You don’t seem too riled, but Soonyoung can tell you want to be anywhere but there, especially when the angry guy’s voice keeps getting louder and louder.

Soonyoung’s feet bring him over before his brain can register what to do. You haven’t seen him yet, he could just walk away, but he doesn’t. Your voice becomes clearer as he approaches.

“Listen, the printing center is for education, art, or business. I can’t print this for you.”

The guy goes off about personal freedoms or whatever, Soonyoung isn’t really listening.

“No, I get that this is a student printing center, but I really don’t think your big tiddie anime gf poster has anything to do with education, art, or business.”

And that’s when the guy grabs your arm. Which results in Soonyoung grabbing his arm. Which results in the accusatory question, “What are you, her boyfriend or something?”

Now, in a perfect story, this would be the first time Soonyoung meets you. Or maybe you’ve been close friends for a while. And this would be when Soonyoung says that, yes, he is your boyfriend, and he would save the day. Except you’d be all “why would you do that?” which would result in you both having to fake date to keep that guy off your back. In this perfect story, there would be no Sehee to like and no Minghao to judge, just you and Soonyoung fake dating. Eventually, you’d both catch real feelings instead of fake ones, and then boom, happily ever after.

But this isn’t a perfect story.

Soonyoung still says yes, and the guy still backs off. In reality though, because Soonyoung never thinks before he lies, you momentarily duck behind the counter and bring a hand up to your face to cover your ever-brightening smile. In reality, Sehee still exists at the forefront of his mind every dance practice, even though you’re the one he just promptly claimed to be the boyfriend of. In reality, Minghao watches from a little ways away, sipping his coffee and shaking his head in what can only be called disappointment.

Soonyoung’s never been good at lying. One would think he’d stop by now.

•

So, it’s official.

You’ve put a heart next to his contact name. He’s put one next to yours — red, because he doesn’t know your favourite colour. Seungkwan’s done the whole if you break my friend’s heart I break you spiel and Soonyoung finally realizes he’s in too deep.

It's almost too natural, how easily you bring him into your life and how easily he finds himself fitting. It's all so wrong.

Soonyoung feels like an imposter, like there's someone meant to be by your side, but it's not him.

You pluck up the courage one day to hold his hand, and he can't pull away because the lies tying him to you are too strong. The small bluffs he's spun have weaved themselves into a net he's tangled himself in.

His dance crew congratulates him when Jun spills the news. It's all mundane, really — dating in university isn't all that uncommon. Mostly, Soonyoung gets casual "you go, dude" comments or the like, but then Sehee says nothing. She smiles, and it has to be one of the most tragically beautiful things Soonyoung's ever seen. His heart fractures, just a little, and he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to fix it.

He smiles it off. Tries to, anyways.

Chan complains that Soonyoung's too harsh that day.

•

Jihoon likes you.

Not in a "Mister Steal Yo' Girl" way, but he laughed at one of your jokes the first time you came over to Soonyoung's apartment, and ever since then, he's been convinced.

"You must feel like the luckiest guy on earth with her around," Jihoon says once you leave for the night.

Soonyoung has no idea how to tell him he's felt nothing but unlucky these past few weeks, so he doesn't.

•

He polishes up on his acting. As awful as it is to think, Soonyoung has gotten really, really good.

His smile looks genuine. It has to — he shows it to Minghao, who says it's "adequate," which basically means perfect to the lowly humans beneath him.

He's gotten good at responding to you too, copying how the male leads do it in dramas and movies. It's sort of easy.

He hates how easy it is.

Soon enough, you try befriending the whole group. Being Seungkwan's friend, you've always wanted to, but apparently this is the push you needed. The boys are quick to warm up to you because, as Soonyoung's new girlfriend, you're now a new teasing target besides Chan. The youngest was always the brunt until you came along.

You say you don't mind — that his friends are amazing despite all the jokes and chaos. He believes you.

Minghao keeps his distance, saying he doesn't want to get himself involved. He's still the only one to know the truth, and his judging stare only grows worse as the days pass. Soonyoung wants so badly to make it go away, but he knows the only way to do that would be to tell you the truth, and he's just not ready.

Soonyoung's never broken a heart before. He's never planned on it.

Sometimes life makes its own plans.

"My shift got moved to tomorrow," you tell him when he picks you up from class, one hand in his and the other in your pocket. He knows it means something, but he doesn't know what. Your lips purse into a line as you stare at your shoes. “I was thinking... could I come watch your dance practice? If that’s okay?”

Now, Soonyoung loves dancing. He loves dance. He loves to dance. Performing sends an unparalleled thrill rushing through his veins like the solar system hurtling through the universe, and it’s something he’s never felt doing anything else. Dancing with others is a beautiful connection, an emission of silent truths communicated through the body. Practice, however, is the dirty version of dance. It has to be built up first — polished. Which is why Soonyoung says what he says. He doesn’t even think it over.

“No.”

It’s what he says every time someone asks. He doesn’t invite people to practices — never has. Even after his prompt refusal, he doesn’t register his mistake until the light in your eyes wavers. It doesn't disappear — just ripples. Comes back weaker than before.

"Oh," you say. The word should sound dejected but it doesn't. There's a smile at your lips, and Soonyoung can't help but think it looks kind of like his. "That's— that's okay! I was just — I don't know, I guess I just thought... I wanted to..."

Meeting his gaze, you look at him with shaking eyes, almost as if it takes great strength to keep them on his. He tries to backpedal, but you continue.

"I'll be going home then. I've got an assignment due soon anyways, so..." You pull your hand from his grip and, from where you two were walking toward the fine arts building, turn the opposite way. Your dorm is on the other side of campus. "See you tomorrow, Soonyoung. Have fun at practice."

Something about your smile haunts him.

It's hollow; feels empty when you flash it at him before going. He thinks fake smiles all look like that — insincere. His smiles at you must be the same way.

For an awful moment, he's hopeful. Maybe this will be the trigger. Maybe you'll end this tonight — whatever "this" is that Soonyoung has with you. Maybe he won't have to tell any harsh truths at all.

He turns and walks to practice.

The routine feels lighter tonight, though Soonyoung can’t pinpoint why. His body almost floats, and while that sounds good, it’s not. The rhythm is off. He’s not landing when he should be.

His crew notices, especially Chan, who complains that Soonyoung’s too much of a cocksure choreographer to be making repeated mistakes like this. They tell him maybe everyone should take a break. He agrees, but only because he’s frustrated — and he shouldn’t channel his anger into dance. Not this one, at least. 

Everyone spreads throughout the studios to the edges, where they lean their body weight on the walls and slide down, water bottles in hand. The room reeks of sweat and feet, but Soonyoung’s used to it by now. He guzzles down half of his water in one go and pulls out his phone.

[❤] Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to react all... cold? Seungkwan told me you never invite anyone to practice, so it makes total sense why you said no

[❤] If I’m ever crossing any boundaries, let me know, okay?

Of course you’d be understanding. Soonyoung wouldn’t be that lucky.

He tosses his phone haphazardly in his bag, groaning and throwing his head back so it hits the wall with a dampened thud. The pain is dull compared to the thoughts top-spinning in his mind.

Across the studio, Minghao clears his throat, raising an eyebrow at Soonyoung when he opens his eyes to look at him. It only takes two reluctant nods for Minghao to understand the source of Soonyoung’s groans, and he does nothing to react but look away. Soonyoung thinks that’s almost worse than the judging eyes. At least at that point Minghao thought he was something other than a lost cause.

He doesn’t text you back. By the time he thinks of something a boyfriend would say, the time to say it has passed.

•

How much longer is he going to let this go on?

Soonyoung wonders that to himself as he sits, returned to Seungcheol's apartment for another one of his "getties" as people are so apt to call them. He's never understood the difference between a getty and a party, and he's always been too stubborn to ask, knowing he'd be mercilessly made fun of for not knowing something apparently all university students knew.

This one isn't so different from the last. More or less the same crowd, the same atmosphere as the night goes on. Only this time, when everyone's settled down in what can hardly be called a circle, Soonyoung's on the couch, sunken into the too-old cushions with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. You're far from your last claimed spot with Seungkwan on that ratty old beanbag chair, sitting comfortably under Soonyoung's arm with a plastic cup of whatever Jeonghan concocted for you — which you've yet to drink much of.

Sehee sits across from you both while she laughs at something Wonwoo says. You laugh too, but Soonyoung barely notices, eyes glued to the girl they've been stuck on since she joined his dance crew over a year ago. He wants to tell her how beautiful she is when she smiles, even under the light of Seungcheol's dingy apartment, but he can't. He wants to tell her how he's felt for months, but you're next to him. He wants to have a fucking drink but all he has in his cup is fucking iced green tea because he knows if he drinks he'll fuck up again.

Just like last time.

"You okay?" you whisper in his ear at one point.

He turns to see your concerned expression, and it only makes Soonyoung hate this even more. He doesn't deserve your concern.

"I'm fine."

But he's not fine.

He doesn't participate in much conversation — only speaks when spoken to, and even then with few words. You seem to become tense next to him, but he does nothing to try and fix it. Just tonight, he's going to let himself be tired.

Three times, you offer to leave, and all three he refuses. You give up eventually, though he can tell you know something's off. God, if he were drunk, he wouldn't even have to think about you for a whole night.

Somehow the topic of discussion turns to couples, and suddenly, an entire room of eyes is on you and Soonyoung. He barely catches the question before you're already pondering your answer.

What do the two lovebirds love most about each other?

You look at him. At him, at him. He feels your stare in the dip of his throat because he can't seem to swallow anymore. It's like his soul is being scanned for viruses.

"Hmm..." You let your chin fall into your palm with a smile. It's real. Too real. "I like his resolve," you finally say. "If he wants to do something, he does it." With a loud exhale through your nose, you tilt your head, still meeting his eyes with your own. Soonyoung's mouth slightly parts, slack with something he can't name. "I could learn a thing or two from him."

The room bristles with your answer, various response piping up around. Soonyoung sort of registers Chan saying, "That's cute. I wanna vomit," but he's too busy thinking about you, about how you've come to like something about him as deep as that when all he's done is pretend to even like you at all.

And even when his mind swims with that, Sehee asks again.

"Then Soonyoung, what do you like about her?"

It sort of hurts. Soonyoung's not afraid to admit to himself that hearing Sehee ask what he likes about you sends pain straight through his ears to his heart. There's an awkward pause and everyone's looking at him expectantly and, god, he wishes he stole your drink when he had the chance.

"I..." His throat goes dry. His lips part, but there aren't any words to slip past them. "I, um..." He looks to you, and your eyes speak volumes. Everyone else in this room has a sort of... hungry look. They want to know Soonyoung's answer for one reason or another, maybe to tease with or to ridicule or even wish for themselves. But you, your eyes meet his and he knows you're not expecting anything. That hurts too. He doesn't know why. But even then, he can't think of the words. Any words. He steals a glance at Sehee, whose expression is curious, doe eyes slightly giddy from alcohol. She's pretty.

"I like her laugh," he says. It's not about you. "Whenever she laughs, I think to myself, 'What I wouldn't give to see her laugh again'."

Your eyes move to the plastic cup you've got gripped between two hands in your lap, and Seungkwan points out your flustered state to the entire room despite the fact everyone can see it as long as they've got working eyes. You purse your lips together to contain a smile, but it doesn't work. Even Soonyoung can see that.

He needs a drink. 

Having to go to the bathroom is a lousy excuse, and Soonyoung knows it, but he whispers that in your ear anyways and retracts his arm from your shoulder before escaping. He does go to the bathroom, a small thing with a shower and no bath, but all he does in there is stare at himself in the mirror. And when that becomes too much, his feet.

Someone else eventually has to use the bathroom for its actual purpose, so he opens it to the banging fist outside and slides past the person back into the hallway. He pauses before walking all the way back. You're caught up in some other conversation now, laughing and dramatically waving your hands as you deny some crazy embarrassing story Seungkwan's trying to spill about you. Seems you've already integrated yourself with his friends more than he thought.

Since your attention is occupied, Soonyoung instead ducks into the half-kitchen — not necessarily out of sight, but no one's really paying attention anyways. He knows he shouldn't take any chances, but he really, really wants to let go. He's been wearing a facade ever since he said your name that night.

"I wouldn't, if I were you."

Minghao's voice has Soonyoung jerking up and banging his head on the door of the open fridge he was rummaging through. He winces in pain, kneading his fingers into his scalp as if that will do anything.

"Wouldn't what?" he snaps.

"I dunno." Minghao shrugs, and it's almost infuriating how nonchalant he is. "Do something you might regret, I guess."

He takes the yet unopened bottle from Soonyoung's hands, reaching beyond him to put it back in place. There's no point in fighting against him since he's undeniably right, but Soonyoung grumbles anyways. His eyes glance every few seconds to you on the couch. If you happen to hear anything...

Well, he doesn't know exactly. But he doesn't want to find out.

"You have to end it."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just—" Soonyoung takes in a breath, too loud for his liking. He lowers his voice. "I can't, okay? I don't want to hurt her."

"So you're just going to date her based on false pretenses because you're too much of a coward to admit your mistakes?" Voice laced with sharpness, Minghao places his palms flat on the counter.

Soonyoung takes a deep breath through his nose, lips twisting in frustration. "Yeah, okay? Yeah," he whispers. "That's exactly what I'm gonna do."

A second passes. Minghao's brow furrows.

"And quite frankly," Soonyoung continues, "I'd rather you keep your nosy ass out of my business from now on."

He nearly storms off right then with the last word, but Minghao's fingers around his elbow stop him.

"You're going to get yourself hurt," Minghao warns through his teeth. He nods towards you. "And her in the process."

"We'll see about that."

Soonyoung has acted on impulse before. It happened with the pigeon, it happened with your name, and it's happening right now. Nothing is compelling him other than the absolute need to prove Minghao wrong, and even then, he doesn't know why.

He sits back down next to you, his spot saved by some miracle considering the surrounding company. The look on your face is happy, jovial. You must be having a right old time. His nerves strike with a feeling he's never quite experienced before.

When you study his face, no doubt not nearly as cheerful as yours, the expression you held falters to worry.

"You okay?" is once again the question on your lips, quiet, meant for his ears only.

Impulse is a scary thing. Soonyoung hates it almost as much as lying.

He leans in, crashing his lips on yours with his eyes half closed. His lips move and yours don't. Soonyoung can't even be sure you've closed your eyes, but at this very moment, he doesn't care. All he knows is he's angry and Minghao is watching.

This isn’t your first kiss — he knows because you’ve talked to him about this very topic. This is, however, to your understanding, the first “real” relationship you’ve ever been in. You told him yourself that you don’t really count that past kiss as your first, that you felt a bit... violated when it happened.

Soonyoung thinks this isn’t all too different.

He steals your second first kiss, and later, staring at the water-stained stucco ceiling of his bedroom, he kicks himself so hard it hurts.

•

You show up to movie night. Apparently Jihoon invited you — explained it like this:

“You won’t have to be so clingy with me if she’s here.”

At first, Soonyoung thinks Jihoon just wants to drop their roommate movie nights because he’s always complained about them, but Jihoon sticks around during Anastasia; sings along with you during Once Upon a December despite the fact that neither of you really know the words. He sits right in front of you two on the couch, cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, that of which he only offers to you twice and Soonyoung once.

Whatever. You’re a better cuddler than Jihoon anyway.

Somehow it doesn’t feel forced when you lean your head on Soonyoung’s shoulder, or when he wraps his arm around your waist to get comfortable. He blames it on how tired he is, how he always gets on movie night after a week of classes and practices and too much work for one person to handle. Jihoon complains all the time that he’s too touchy when tired.

You absentmindedly play with his fingers for most of the movie. He doesn’t mind.

It’s been about a month now.

Soonyoung doesn’t kiss you again after the first time. Doesn’t stop you, either, but you’re more of an on-the-cheek kind of person. He thinks you think he wants to take this slow, even though he initiated the first big step (as convoluted as it was). He lets you think what you want.

Nasty business, it is.

Cleaning a bowl that once held popcorn. All the grease that sticks to the side because Jihoon likes to use too much butter. All the grains of salt that get underneath Soonyoung’s fingernails. He’s washing, Jihoon’s drying. It’s an arrangement of sorts.

You’ve already left for the night, gone back to your dorm since it’s only a five minute walk or so through campus. Jihoon insisted on Soonyoung escorting you, but you only smiled sweetly and refused. Maybe Soonyoung should’ve argued harder against you. He didn’t though. That’s why he’s scrubbing a bit too harshly now — he doesn’t like messing up.

Seems that’s all he’s good for lately.

“You’re unhappy.”

Soonyoung stops scrubbing. The only noise in the whole apartment is the slow gurgle of the sink because even with a plug, such an old thing just lets the hot water seep away as the seconds go by. Jihoon’s gaze is on the pan he’s drying, but Soonyoung knows his heart is in the question. It always is.

“I’m not,” he tries to deny, but it’s difficult to fool a person like Jihoon. (Especially since Soonyoung can’t even convince himself.)

The non-stick pan from yesterday’s dinner clangs against an older one when Jihoon puts it away. He looks at Soonyoung, but by then he’s turned back to washing the popcorn bowl, so their eyes don’t end up meeting.

“I’ve known you since tenth grade. You think I can’t tell when you’re upset?”

Soonyoung finds it hard to read Jihoon’s feelings most of the time. He didn’t realize he was such an open book the other way around.

Sighing, he continues to scrub the bowl, which has probably been clean for a minute already. “I’m just... stressed.”

“About?”

Minghao already knows; already thinks lowly of Soonyoung for it. If Jihoon knew... Soonyoung doesn’t know if he can take that.

So he lies. Again.

“Just the dance showcase.”

It isn’t a whole lie, not really, but he can’t call it the truth either.

Jihoon takes the bowl from Soonyoung’s grasp and rinses it under the tap. Since that’s the last dish, Soonyoung is stuck with nothing for his hands to do. They rest on the edge of the sink, but his fingers ache for a task.

Jihoon, the friend that he is, says, “That’s not for three months, though. I’m sure you’ll be perfect by then.”

“I don’t know...”

“Well I do.” Eyes meet eyes, a pair determined, a pair apprehensive. “Everything will work out.”

“...Okay.”

•

Soonyoung measures time in terms of you now.

When he last texted you. When he last saw you. When he last spoke to you.

It’s all a very elaborate calculation — how much time he’s spent on you versus how much time he should spend on you. No relationship is quite like this one, he thinks, and it’s quite the romantic notion out of context. The fact remains, every interaction he has with you only pulls him further and deeper into his lie.

Soonyoung’s time moves a bit slower now.

Faster, sometimes, but only when he doesn’t want it to.

•

You tell him you might be in love with him.

He says he might be in love with you.

He’s never hated lying more.

•

Jihoon is cleaning out the fridge when the buzzer goes off, so since he’s close by, he picks up the old corded phone attached to the wall. From his spot on the couch, Soonyoung looks up from his phone to see Jihoon cover the receiver and mouth your name. Jihoon makes some sort of gesture with his hands, and somehow Soonyoung understands that as, were you expecting her?

His eyes widen as it settles in that no, he’s not expecting you. The apartment is a mess.

Jihoon buzzes you in, hangs up, and immediately moves from the fridge to the coffee table, throwing the laundry he was planning on folding back in the plastic hamper and shoving the pile in Soonyoung’s lap.

“Take care of this,” he says. “I’ll clear up the kitchen.”

Right. Can’t have you thinking your boyfriend and his roommate are slobs.

Soonyoung reacts quickly, standing from his spot on the couch with the laundry basket in hand. He dashes to his room, where he plans to stuff the laundry in his closet and save that problem for later, but once he gets there, he realizes his room is even worse. There are dirty clothes dispersed all over his bed and old coffee cups littering his desk. Scrambling to shove the new laundry in his closet, the dirty clothes in the now empty hamper, and gather all the paper cups in his arms, Soonyoung’s breath starts to catch.

When he emerges from his room with two armfuls of garbage, he finds you at the door with Jihoon, your face hidden in his shoulder and your arms wrapped tight around his waist. Jihoon’s arms are up, almost like he’s being held at gunpoint, and his eyes widen even further when he catches sight of Soonyoung.

“Uhh... it’s for you.”

Soonyoung can hear your quiet hiccups even though they’re muffled in Jihoon’s shirt. He can’t bear it when people cry.

Yeah, maybe he’s been pretending to like you for a long time now, but he’s not a monster.

Right?

He likes you as a person. As a friend. And there’s no way he’s letting his friend go through pain like this.

Soonyoung swiftly discards his trash into the garbage bin and approaches you and Jihoon. At the commotion, you lift your head from Jihoon’s shoulder, eyes all red and puffy. Your lips press together, emotions nearly bursting at the seams, but they finally break out when Soonyoung opens his arms wide.

“C’mere.”

You practically flail into his embrace, arms wrapping around his torso in a vice grip as you hide your face again. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay — he knows you’re not.

Jihoon stands in the doorway for a few seconds, just looking at you and Soonyoung clutching at each other in the middle of the apartment before he shuts the front door and clears his throat.

“I’ll just, uh, I’ll be — um. Mhm. Yup.”

He escapes to his room.

Soonyoung squishes his cheek to your temple as you both stay there. You’re shaking, and his arms squeeze tighter. If only he could make it stop. He doesn’t know what to say or do to make you feel better.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, though quiet and hesitant.

You shake your head, mumbling something he can’t quite make out. He pulls back a bit, just enough to see your face and gently cup your cheeks in his palms. His thumbs rub at your cheeks, smoothing any stray tears across your skin.

“What’s that?”

“Just...” Your eyes glisten. His heart beats. “Could you please just hold me?”

And he does.

Decidedly, his bed is much more comfortable than standing in the living room, so he sways, rocking side to side with small steps that force you to walk backwards. His smile, though, is reassuring, and you follow his guidance without much complaint. He sits you down on his bed, thankful that he cleaned up beforehand, and slowly leans you down so you’re both on your sides, facing each other. Pulling you closer, he lets you rest your head on his chest. Your hand lies flat on top of him, but eventually your fingers curl, clutching a bit of Soonyoung’s shirt between them. Silent tears fall from your eyes to his chest, but he doesn’t care.

His arm underneath you wraps around, hand landing on your back so his thumb can rub soothing circles.

It’s quiet.

Funny. Soonyoung used to dislike silence with you — always felt the need to fill it with conversation or jokes or laughter. He wonders when it was last since he felt that way.

Soonyoung doesn’t know how much time passes. His eyes stick to his bedroom ceiling as he holds you close, thoughts on everything and nothing all at once. Are you asleep? Your tears stopped some time ago.

His question is answered when your voice, small and unsure, breaks the long-standing silence.

“Soonyoung?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell you about it?”

He cranes his neck to look at you, but it doesn’t really work. “Of course,” he says. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

You sigh. “I don’t know. I just... I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not.”

“I know, but—”

“You’re not.”

You look up at him finally, and seeing your smile sends warmth through his blood. Your face is still looks wrecked from tears gone by, but your smile pushes all that out of the way.

“Thank you,” comes past your lips in a whisper. Then, after a moment of waiting, you say, “It’s just that... I... this — ugh.” You hide your face in his shirt again. “This is so embarrassing. I don’t even know why I got so worked up.”

Soonyoung doesn’t respond to that, just pats your back a few times and encourages you to keep going. You toy with the fabric of his shirt.

“This guy I used to know — I thought I’d never see him again, but he showed up today. Ran into him when I was walking back from the convenience store.” You bite the inside of your lip. “I haven’t thought about him in a long time, but, I don’t know, I guess seeing him just brought all these memories back all at once.”

“Bad ones?”

A breathy laugh escapes you. “Sure, you could say that.”

The silence comes back, and your brows furrow, almost like you’re trying to solve the problem all on your own. But you don’t have to. Soonyoung is here.

“Do you remember when I told you about my first kiss? Like, my real first kiss?”

Soonyoung hums. Of course he remembers.

“Back in high school, I used to have this friend. Sammy. She was — god, she was beautiful. And kind, and smart, and just... amazing. I miss her a lot. She’s abroad now, travelling the world with her sister. I think she’s in Peru now.” You chuckle at the mention of your old friend, but soon your smile twists into a frown. “This guy... I don’t like saying his name, but he liked Sammy. Everyone did, I don’t blame him for that, honestly. He was pretty popular back then — one of those sports boys, you know? Thinking about it now, he could’ve easily gotten with Sammy if he hadn’t been so conniving.”

“Conniving?”

“Yeah, he was... I don’t know how he got the idea in his head, but he came to me first. He kept hanging out with me, taking me on these... dates? But they weren’t really dates, all we did was talk about Sammy — what she liked, what she didn’t like. I knew he was using me, but I just... let him, I guess. Maybe back then I was just so caught up in being needed that I didn’t really mind being used.”

Soonyoung hugs you tighter.

“I guess he felt sorry, maybe? Right before he went to go ask Sammy out, he just... laid one on me. It was stupid. Like a pity kiss for my service or whatever. I wasn’t in love with the guy or anything, but it felt so... degrading. Like all I deserved was some action from a conventionally good-looking guy."

Your tears come back, brimming at the edge of your eyelids.

“I don’t know, it just — it just made me feel so...”

You take a breath. Exhale.

“...worthless.”

Soonyoung doesn’t fail to see the irony here, at least, but he feels slightly lifted. Whoever this guy is, Soonyoung’s a million times better.

“You’re not worthless,” he says — because he knows it’s true.

“I know.” You readjust yourself curled around him, wiping away the tears which haven’t fallen. “I mean, I know now.” Sighing, you wrap your arm around his waist, somehow pulling him closer than he already was. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here. For being you. For letting me be me.”

“It is my absolute pleasure to serve you, your majesty.”

You wack him with the sleeve of your sweater. “You’re such a dork!”

Your laugh is nice. Soonyoung hopes to hear it again soon.

“You know,” you say, eyes closed as you lie there with him on his bed. “Normally I would’ve gone to Seungkwan with my problems, but tonight...”

“Tonight?”

“You make me feel safe, Soonyoung. Thank you.”

His eyes close. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “That, and if I told Seungkwan, he would’ve found the guy and beat him to a pulp.”

“Why can I see that?”

“Because it’s true.”

You stay the night.

•

With a group of friends as big as Soonyoung’s, it’s about once every blue moon that the boys find a time that works for everyone, especially coming up on finals season. They all have their own worries around this time: the dance showcase, the big play, last-minute assessments, and — of course — finals.

So when they’re all free for barbecue one night, everyone’s ecstatic. Reservations are made, gratuities are calculated, and the group chat blows up every few hours with various changes to plans. (Mostly from Mingyu, who’s eager to show off his grilling skills.)

But of course, university is university, and it’s inevitable that someone has to bail out. That someone being Soonyoung.

The dance showcase creeps up a bit faster than anyone likes, and now Soonyoung’s professor is forcing him to choreograph an entire song for some freshmen only a month before the whole thing goes onstage.

First of all, who signs up for a showcase only four weeks before the performance? Who lets them sign up?

And second of all, doesn’t his professor realize Soonyoung has a life? He’s got other dances to work on, other classes to study for, friends to have barbecue with. How is he supposed to cram an entire choreography — not the mention the time it’ll take to teach the freshmen — into his already hectic lifestyle?

But Soonyoung is a people-pleaser. He doesn’t say no.

Instead, he regretfully messages the group chat, saying he can’t hang out tonight in favour of attempting to choreograph at least a quarter of the song in one sitting. He gets the usual whining, but they all know they can’t change his mind, so it fades out fast.

What he doesn’t expect is for them to invite you instead.

“It’s a thirteen person reservation,” Seungcheol reasons. “Besides, she’s basically one of us by now.”

Soonyoung can’t exactly argue with that.

So, you go to the restaurant with them while Soonyoung heads to the studio. Minghao picks you up along with Vernon and Chan, which sends an anxious bit of worry down Soonyoung’s spine, but he does nothing about it. If Minghao wanted to tell you, he would’ve by now.

You send him a good luck text.

[🍥] Don’t let those kids work you into the ground!

He stares at your words for a bit, distracted from finding the song he’s supposed to use. Your contact name is different now — one of those naruto fishcakes because of that time you took him out for ramen. That night had been full of laughter and loud, borderline obnoxious slurping, ending with the beautiful finale of Soonyoung throwing a fishcake straight into your open mouth.

You were the one that sweet-talked you both out of getting banned.

Soonyoung finally opens his music app and finds the song the freshmen requested (a rather boring one, if you ask him) which he sets to max volume. He doesn’t bother plugging his phone into the speaker system, not when he’s the only one in the studio.

Maybe he can do this.

•

“The trick is to add eggs and use less water,” you say as you scoop more batter onto the waffle iron.

Jihoon snorts from where he sits at the table, still shoveling more whipped cream and strawberry-smothered waffle in his mouth. “Are you sure the trick isn’t to just not be Soonyoung?”

“Hey!” Soonyoung pauses his own eating just to pout. “My waffles are good!”

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

Both you and Jihoon laugh at Soonyoung’s expense, only further accentuating the pout on his face. You and Jihoon are too alike in that aspect. Well, actually, Soonyoung knows you’d never laugh at him, but he still can’t be sure about Jihoon. One time, back in high school, Soonyoung tripped over (what he thought was) a dead bird, and Jihoon laughed for hours — though Soonyoung always exaggerates the story into him laughing for days.

You sit down next to him with your own plate of waffles. There’s flour dusted on your arms, but you don’t seem to mind.

“You’ve got a little...” You point a finger at the corner of your mouth.

He knows. Soonyoung can feel the cool whipped cream right where you say it is.

He smiles wide. “I’m saving it for later.”

“Hmm...”

You say nothing, just smile as you lean in, kissing the corner of his lips. It’s quick, chaste, and barely a real kiss, but Soonyoung’s heart bounces in his chest. He’s never been kissed like that before.

He wonders if this is what it’s like to be loved.

That thought, though, he pushes back for another time.

“Gross. You guys made me lose my appetite,” Jihoon says. He keeps eating.

•

With eyes drooping shut every few seconds, Soonyoung decides it’s time to call it quits on the chemistry homework. It’s nearly one in the morning, anyways. He flips his textbooks shut and gathers up all his notes, putting them all in a haphazard pile that he’ll worry about in the morning. Swivelling in his chair, his eyes land on you.

Oh. He forgot you’re here.

You’re snuggled up on top of his covers, one arm wrapped around the pillow your head should be on, eyes closed as even, slow breaths come past your slightly parted lips. One of his hoodies is draped over your legs like a blanket. He wonders why you didn’t just get under the covers.

Well, he has been walking you home ever since he hadn’t some time ago. Maybe you were waiting.

He feels a bit guilty as he brushes his teeth and washes his face, but not too bad since you only have afternoon classes tomorrow. Maybe he can treat you to something in the morning to make up for it.

After he tucks you under a fluffy throw blanket, he crawls into bed and lies on his side, facing you.

Your other hand is lax, palm up and fingers curled, almost like you’re holding something invisible.

His hand would fit perfectly.

The tips of his fingers graze over the lines on your palm. Slow. Trepidatious.

You shift, fingers unconsciously curling around Soonyoung’s hand.

He closes his eyes.

•

The moves aren’t working.

The moves aren’t working and the music isn’t working and the dance isn’t working and nothing is working.

Soonyoung groans in frustration, almost screaming with his fingers threaded through his damp hair as he messes up yet another landing. He’s drenched in sweat, and it’s only been so many hours since the rest of the crew left for the night, not that he’s kept track.

It’s less than a week until the showcase. Six days, as Chan is apt to remind everyone with his stupid holiday countdown app.

That freshmen choreography is already over and done with — Soonyoung’s made it, he’s taught it to those over-eager nuisances, and if they need anything more, that’s on them. They’re no longer his responsibility.

That’s not what has him in such a state right now.

His solo — the one he’s been planning for the entire semester — it just doesn’t... feel right. He’s been slaving over it for days now, reworking the steps, figuring out what to take out and what to replace. But the more he fixes it, the more it feels wrong.

He can’t get the steps right. He can’t get anything right.

What is wrong with him?

He starts the music again at exactly one minute, thirty-eight seconds. The moves are clear in his mind. One step. Two steps. Sweep. Spin. Jump—

He falls.

The music goes on.

Soonyoung slams his fist onto the softwood floor, cursing at his ineptitude. He stays like that for a moment, eyes screwed shut and fists clenched so tight his nails dig into his palms. The song ends, only to restart again, but Soonyoung barely notices.

Screw the music. He stands; positions himself; tries again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

He falls.

He yells out at the floor, at his feet, at whatever is holding him back.

His reflection in the mirror stares back at him.

Mind blank, he sits there, legs stretched out in front of him as he hunches over, eyes closed to the world around. His breaths come out shaky and uneven, but even though every moment sitting still feels like eternity, his lungs fail to calm.

Someone knocks on the door, and for a second, Soonyoung thinks it’s Jun coming to tell him to go home for the night. He doesn’t want to, so he doesn’t look up.

The door opens, he can hear the quiet shuffling of hesitant feet that have removed their shoes just because the sign on the door told them to.

“Soonyoung?”

Your voice is clear — like a single drop of water coalescing into a whole — and it cuts through the sound of blood rushing past Soonyoung’s ears.

He looks up to see you standing a good length away, almost like you’re scared to approach. You’re wearing pyjamas, a thick sweater pulled over your shoulders and fuzzy socks donning your feet. Something bulges from the pocket of your sweater.

“What are you...”

“Minghao called me.”

In the back of his mind, a small part of Soonyoung wonders exactly when you and Minghao have gotten close enough to call each other, but the thought doesn’t stay for long. It can’t, really, not when you’re in front of him.

When Soonyoung says nothing more, you take another step forward. “What’s wrong?”

To anyone else, he might say nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong.

His voice breaks when he tries to laugh.

“Everything.”

Your eyes soften, a small smile tugging at your lips. It’s not one of those pitiful smiles, he can tell, but it’s not fake, either. You bring your hands together in front of you, fiddling with the tips of your fingers as your eyes move from them to his gaze again. “I’m coming over. Is that okay?”

He nods.

First, you find his phone and turn down the music until it’s gone. You sit right behind him, legs spread on either side of his body, and you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing flush to his back and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades. He squirms a bit.

“I’m all sweaty,” he tries to argue, but you only squeeze him tighter.

“Yeah, you are.”

He stops resisting. It’s much too hot, what with his hours of constant exercise and your thick layers, but he can’t complain.

“Do you want to talk about it?” This time it’s your turn to ask.

“...Just hold me?”

And you do.

You press a kiss to the back of his neck. Slow, soft, and when your lips leave his searing skin, your forehead replaces them.

That’s when the dam breaks.

Hot, fat tears roll from Soonyoung’s eyes down his cheeks as sobs rack through his chest. The vibrations shake him and you all at once, but your hold never falters. He can’t see anything, only a blur of what should be his legs and your arms wrapped around his stomach. His hands go to clutch at your arms, desperate to hold onto something; to not let him sink.

It’s ugly, the way he cries, but you let it happen. You hold him.

This is what it’s like.

Eventually, his desperate hands find yours, his arms crossed so his right is over your right, his left over your left. His fingers roam over the smooth backs of your hands until they reach your fingers and interlock. The palms of your hands are warm compared to his fingertips.

You’ve locked onto his body language by now — you’re fluent, so you know to continue pressing reassuring, slow kisses into his skin. You know to whisper little words that should mean nothing, but coming from your lips, mean everything.

He’s going to be okay.

For some reason, coming from you, he believes it.

You hold him until the hiccuping stops, until the tears are just dry streaks on his face, until his breath comes out in long streams instead of bursts.

His eyes stay shut as he feels you shift. One of your hands slips out of his grasp, your arm reaching back, and Soonyoung almost whines until he feels its return.

“Look,” you whisper.

It itches to open his eyes, but when he does, he sees what’s in your hand, right in front of him. A small stuffed tiger sits in your palm, positioned anatomically incorrect like a teddy bear, a velvet heart between its paws. Stitched white letters read:

Go get ‘em, tiger!

You chuckle lightly, repositioning yourself so your chin hooks over his shoulder. “Cheesy, I know. I was going to give this to you the day of the showcase, but I think you could use it right about now.”

Gingerly, Soonyoung lifts his hands together, and you place the plush in his awaiting palms.

His voice is slow to restart, but he manages to say, “Thank you.”

Hands now free, you wrap yourself around his waist again. “Anything for you.”

Such a simple sentence, that, and yet the confession sends blood to Soonyoung’s ears in the form of an awfully embarrassing blush. He runs his thumbs over the fuzzy fabric of the tiger plush.

“Soonyoung?”

“Hm?”

You press your lips to the crook of his shoulder, voice muffled in the fabric of his shirt. “I won’t force you to stop practicing. I know this is important to you.” Soonyoung feels your breath fan over his skin. “But I also want you to rest — you shouldn’t overwork yourself.”

One of your hands rises to his chin, guiding it up so he looks forward at the studio mirror and meets your gaze in the reflection.

“Whaddya say we do, hm?” You tilt your head, and Soonyoung thinks his pupils may be heart-shaped. “Do you want to practice more? Or can I take you home?”

“Just...” He swallows what’s left in his dry mouth. “Just once more.”

You smile. “Okay.”

As you get up, you run your hands up to Soonyoung’s shoulder and down to his hand, where you playfully pretend to pull him up with you. He laughs, hiding his face behind the tiger plush for a second before he stands, tugging your hands as he does so you fall into him when he rights himself. Both your hands are squeezed between him and you, while his unoccupied arm finds its way to your side.

Another smile tugs at your lips at the proximity. You shift your hands up so they wrap over his shoulders, linking behind his head. Leaning closer, your eyes gleam under the fluorescent lights. To the sound of silence, you sway together, waltzing in the dead of night.

“I’ll be outside, okay?”

Soonyoung’s expression tightens, eyebrows shifting in confusion. “Why?”

“Well,” you say. “I know how you feel about audiences during practice.”

Something about your smile right now makes Soonyoung feel so undeniably safe. You understand him. Never once have you questioned him over why he doesn’t invite you to practices, never once did you pressure him to change that.

“Do you know how I feel about you?”

“Hmm, do I?”

Do you?

“Stay.”

And you do.

•

Here’s the thing about dance showcases:

They’re big, they’re flashy, they take the entire year to plan, and they’re over in one night.

Soonyoung stands in the wings, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, hopefully not loud enough for anyone to hear. He watches as the group performing before his solo finishes up their dance, though he knows there is at least a minute before he’ll have to go on.

A tap on his shoulder makes him turn his head, and he sees Sehee’s smiling face.

“Nervous?” she asks, her voice hidden beneath the music.

She’s all dolled up, dressed in her costume with a sleek leather jacket to bring everything together. Her eyes glimmer just as much as her eyelids.

“You have no idea,” Soonyoung jokes, but his heart isn’t really in it.

Sehee tilts her head; blinks a few times. “You’ll do amazing. You always do.”

For what it’s worth, Soonyoung hasn’t forgotten his attraction. Sehee’s words soothe him to some extent, pump him up, even. It’s slightly terrifying — how much she still affects him even now.

You’re in the audience tonight, third row from the front, somewhere in the middle. Your seat is between Seungkwan’s and Jihoon’s, whereas all the other boys came (almost) too late and had to find seats elsewhere.

The music ends, applause erupts, and Soonyoung knows it’s his turn. He waits for the group to exit on the opposite side, and when the resounding claps quiet down, he takes the first step onstage.

Something Soonyoung has almost always known: stage lights are blinding. If they’re set up right, anyone onstage will have a damn hard time seeing anyone in the audience. He can’t see you — couldn’t during his previous performance with the crew, either. The only reason he knows you’re there is the million assuring texts you sent him before you had to turn off your phone for the show.

But he knows you’re there. He knows you’re watching.

Soonyoung stands with his left foot on the spike mark, right where he’s practiced time and time again ever since they transitioned into the space. Music floods his veins, and the world is gone.

He wouldn’t call it an escape. Soonyoung doesn’t use dance to get away, it’s not like that. This world he creates with dance — this other space where nothing exists except him and the music and the floor and the feeling — he chooses to go there. Euphoria, he thinks it might be called. Euphoric.

The space takes him. He lets it.

And then it’s over.

Soonyoung’s breath leaves him in bursts, his shoulders heaving despite how hard he fights to keep them still in his final pose. His back faces the audience, his right arm stretched out and up, fingers curling around nothing. Stars dance before his eyes — which he fails to catch with his outstretched hand.

He thinks he can faintly hear applause, but it’s nothing compared to the heart beating in his chest. Your voice plays in his ears, yet he knows it’s simply his imagination — his recollection.

I like your dance, you’d said that night. I’m no expert, no judge, but I like it. I love it, honestly. Your dancing... I don’t know. I wish I had the words. It’s like... a little box.

A little box?

You’ve got a little box in your hand. Brown, maybe the size of your palm. You open it and there’s no bottom, no sides, no shape, just an expanse of universe in blues and pinks and purples and whatever colours we don’t know exist. You look inside and reach your hand in, somehow fitting in the tiny yet infinite space. Your fingers brush through starlight like strands of silk, like the rays are minnows you’ve met during a summer dip. Like that. A little box.

I thought you said you didn’t have the words?

I don’t. Not enough.

Soonyoung vaguely registers the lights going black, the way his feet drift him offstage, the music of the seniors’ finale.

At some point, the lights are back on. Not the stage lights, but the harsh fluorescents once the audience has fully filtered out into the lobby. Most of them will leave, but the family and friends of performers are sure to stay, waiting there to congratulate and fawn over the dancers as soon as they’re let go for the night. Somewhere in his mind, Soonyoung knows his friends are outside waiting for him — him, Jun, Minghao, and Chan.

Roses are passed around. He’s never seen a blue rose before, but some dancers walk around with them as they change out of costume and gather their things. He points out a yellow rose from the bunch presented to him, but it turns out to be a bouquet for him specifically, and he takes the whole thing with his jaw slightly hanging. Everything’s a bit... slow. Soonyoung feels like he’s wading through water.

He hasn’t changed yet, simply standing in his costume as he watches people go back and forth. Other performers move from dressing room to dressing room, cleaning up what they have to while simultaneously patting each other’s backs. Techs go around making sure everything’s in order, nothing lost or forgotten. They put away the MC’s microphones and bother the dancers for not taking proper care of props even though it’s only been one night.

Another tap on his shoulder; it’s Sehee again.

“Can I talk to you?” she asks.

He follows her to a corner of the stage, where the curtains hang and hide the two — for the most part.

She turns almost too abruptly, causing Soonyoung to stumble over his own two feet to avoid bumping into her.

“This is really hard for me to say,” she starts. “But I have to get it out.”

Soonyoung nods, maybe saying something close to a confirmation, but he can’t really tell. He’s a little lightheaded. Sehee has changed out of her leather, instead now in a pair of grey sweatpants and a simple t-shirt. That’s the thing about Sehee, though, she has that unnamed sort of... effortless beauty. Even with her stage makeup wiped off, she glows.

“This might be one of the last times I ever work with you, you know? Next year, my parents are making me quit dancing so I can focus on my major. It sucks, yeah, but they’re right. I need to focus if I want to succeed. You know that too, don’t you? The need to succeed?” She takes a breath; laughs bitterly. “Sorry, I’m getting off track... I just — I wanted to tell you this because if I don’t tonight, I might never get the chance again.”

Maybe Soonyoung has dreamed of this moment. He can’t be sure, not yet, so he lets her continue.

“I like you, Soonyoung. I have for a while. But things happened, and you got together with...” her voice trails off. “And you seemed happy, after a while. I thought maybe I could just keep it hidden but, I don’t know, I think I need to tell you, to get closure because I'm not sure if I can go on without at least—”

Choices. Soonyoung — and everyone else in the world — has only made it through life with decisions. He’s made good ones. Bad ones. He’s had regrets and he’s had none. This, though, this choice is intensely apparent.

Apparent in the way he knows it will affect much more than he wishes.

He kisses her.

God, this is what he wanted, right? What he’s wanted for so long. He used to toss and turn at night over the thought of Sehee’s eyes; her smile; her lips.

And on his, they were heaven. Plump and soft just like the romance novels say, moving at the exact pace of his heartbeat.

The hand holding his bouquet drops to his side as the other goes to cup Sehee’s cheek. Faintly, the sound of paper fluttering to the ground reaches his ears, but nothing can distract him from this moment.

Until, of course, it ends.

Sehee pulls away. “We can’t— I don’t—”

Someone clears their throat.

Soonyoung turns, finding Minghao standing just off from the curtains, arms crossed and face contorted in thinly-veiled anger.

And you.

You’re standing next to Minghao, obviously shocked — over being seen or what you’ve seen, Soonyoung doesn’t know. Hands fisted and held close to your chest, your eyes widen as they meet Soonyoung’s.

It’s not so dramatic as the movies.

Soonyoung stares at you, tongue unmoving with nothing to say. You stare back, almost frozen, until Minghao gently takes you by your shoulders, forcing you to turn and leave the way you must’ve come. Nothing happens in the time it takes. Soonyoung simply watches.

He’s never been good at reading lips, but he thinks he knows exactly what Minghao whispers in your ear.

There’s something you should know.

Sehee mutters, “Sorry,” and leaves. She looks guilt-ridden as she does, but even in his half-frozen state, Soonyoung knows all of this is on him.

He stands alone in that corner of the stage, the only noise being the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant sound of the last stragglers in the dressing rooms. His hands clench, and the brown paper of the bouquet crumples. He looks at it then, at the yellow roses and baby’s breath, at the beige note that’s fallen to the floor.

Slowly, he crouches, picking up the note with his thumb and forefinger.

Congratulations Soonyoung!! I know how hard you’ve worked for this night, which is why I ordered these to be delivered. Joshua told me yellow roses represent happiness, or something. Pretty, right? You deserve every happiness, so I decided to start with flowers. Tonight may be over, but who knows, maybe we’ll find happiness in tomorrow, too.

It’s stupid. It’s not a love letter. It’s laced with love, though, and he hates that he recognizes your handwriting.

Time moves heavily as Soonyoung turns to the backstage door. He’s the only one left now, his station in the second boy’s dressing room is messy, unlike everyone else’s. His reflection stares back at him while he sits in front of the mirror, motions halved in speed as he wipes off his eye makeup.

It’s over.

When was the last time he thought about how it would end?

He changes out of costume, arms growing stiff, and stuffs everything in his bag without much care for how. His regular clothes itch; he longs to scratch at his skin, but he doesn’t.

He leaves your bouquet on the counter.

His friends stand in a circle in the lobby, brows furrowed and voices hushed as they discuss... something. Soonyoung has a bad feeling he knows exactly the topic. Minghao isn’t there. Nor are you.

Jihoon isn’t around, either, but Soonyoung remembers he had to leave immediately after the performance. Something about an essay. It doesn’t really matter now, not compared to this.

When he approaches his friends, they quiet down further. Half of them look his way with a frown, while the other half choose to avert their eyes. What do they know?

Seungkwan stands out the most. His arms are crossed, his lips are pressed together in a thin line, and anger radiates from his very being. Of course he’s mad. You’re his friend.

The silence consumes Soonyoung as he nearly shrivels under his friends’ gazes. He must have taken his time, the lobby is empty except for them.

“Where’s Minghao?” he asks.

Seungkwan lurches forward, but both Seungcheol and Wonwoo bring up their arms to hold him back. 

“Where’s Minghao? Where’s Minghao?” he seethes. He jabs an accusatory finger in Soonyoung’s face. “You just kissed some girl and broke my best friend’s heart and you’re asking about Minghao?!”

So they don’t know. Not really.

Soonyoung endures the scolding. The looks. The questions. The noise.

No answers are really given.

The great thing about having best friends is that they know not to pamper you when you’ve done wrong. That’s also the worst thing about having best friends.

Seungkwan would go on and on, surely, but soon enough the boys notice how little Soonyoung is reacting — how his face and expression is slack and dull.

Joshua holds up a finger to quiet down the ones still complaining, then gestures towards the front entrance.

“Minghao left with her a while ago.” The look on his face is one of pity. Soonyoung hates it.

He nods; stuffs his hands in his pockets as he turns to the door.

“Wait! I’m not done—!” Seungkwan struggles against Wonwoo and Seungcheol, but he’s no match.

Soonyoung doesn’t stick around long enough to hear what happens next.

He has no sense of what to do when he walks out that door. Go home, maybe.

The night breeze hits him with more force than it should, making his eyes go dry and his lips tremble. Outside, everything is almost too loud. There’s traffic on all sides, surrounding the lot of the theatre; the sound of humming engines and honking horns assaults his senses.

He walks — though it feels like wandering — to the parking lot, where he plans to look around for a bus stop.

You’re there.

A mirage, he thinks at first, but you’re really there, sitting on one of those concrete barriers, legs outstretched and ankles crossed. You have your head lowered as you sit, hands braced on the cold concrete.

His held breath escapes him, and you look up.

“You’re here,” you say. The smile on your lips, ever so slight and ever so bitter, causes a ringing in his ears. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”

“I...”

“It’s a lie, right?” Your eyes glisten, but no tears fall. “You wouldn’t— I’m not— I’m not that naive, am I?”

Soonyoung’s lips part, but nothing moves past them. His hands itch to leave his pockets, but with nothing to reach for, they stay still.

“...I see.”

You drop your head again, bringing your hands together to fiddle with your fingernails. He hears your breath, shaky as it is, and his lungs constrict.

“God, it felt so real. I thought— I guess I don’t know what I thought, huh?” A shiver runs through you. “Was any of it real?” you ask the ground.

Soonyoung longs to answer. That’s the thing, though.

He doesn’t know.

Can any of it be real?

You laugh. Before, your laugh was spring strawberries; summer warblers; winter snowdrops. Now, your dry laughter echoes in Soonyoung’s mind like a pebble in a failed attempt of skipping stones.

“Guess not.”

You hop off the concrete barrier, wiping off your pants of dust and dirt. Still, you don’t meet his eyes.

Soonyoung’s heart beats in a way he knows isn’t natural. Guilt seeps through every orifice. “You’re not... you’re not yelling at me. You’re not crying — you’re not angry,” he stumbles through. “Why?”

It’s then that when you meet his eyes, he notices the dried tracks lining your cheeks. You have been crying, just in the time it took for him to come across you.

“I’m just disappointed in myself, Soonyoung,” you say. “I’m the one who fell for it so easily. I’m the one that was tricked. I’m the one who—” a breath “—who loved someone that didn’t love me back.” You step closer, arms limp at your side. “Once I get home, sure, I’ll cry my eyes out. Is that what you want to hear? I’ll curse myself for being so... so stupid.”

“It’s not your fault—”

“No, it’s not. This is not my fault. All I did was believe the words you said to me. All I did was hand myself to you on a silver platter.” Unshed tears brim at your eyelids, but it seems you refuse to let them fall. “But you know the worst part, Soonyoung?”

Everything?

“The worst part is I can’t yell at you. I’m not angry because I fell in love with someone who doesn’t love me back and it hurts and I can’t bring myself to hate you despite being told you’ve never thought about me the way I think about you.”

A breathy gasp escapes you, and you turn on a dime, the sight of your back an icy reminder to Soonyoung of what he’s yet to learn. You take a deep breath to gather yourself, shoulders rising and falling.

“I’ll be going now. I’ve got a lot to think about.”

Soonyoung doesn’t move from his spot when you walk away, or when you get into Minghao’s car, which pulls away after a moment of sitting there in its parking spot. His feet are stuck in stiff mud, unable to shift, even.

Perhaps he stands there for too long. It’s not until he’s staring down the front of his apartment that he realizes one of his friends must have dropped him off.

•

He hasn’t heard from you in a few days. He hasn’t heard from anyone in just as long.

Jihoon already knew (not everything, but enough) by the time Soonyoung rolled out of bed the day after. He hasn’t said anything about it, but Soonyoung can tell this silence isn’t the same as usual. They rarely eat meals together anymore. Last movie night, Jihoon didn’t even pretend to be busy, instead saying he simply wasn’t in the mood.

Seungkwan hasn’t left your side ever since... that happened. If Soonyoung happens to see you on campus, which is almost never, he backs out of approaching you because of the sheer force that is Seungkwan’s glare. Besides, he wouldn’t know what to say even if he did find the courage to face you.

Classes go by in blurs. Not quickly, like scenery past a car window, but so slow that once Soonyoung leaves, he remembers nothing but hours upon hours of staring at his empty notebook, even if the lecture was only fifty minutes long. Days are kind of like that too.

•

Sehee apologizes. She shouldn’t, but she does.

Soonyoung didn’t really hate what he did at first. He liked her, after all.

But when Sehee chokes on her own words, pleading to whoever will listen that she’s not that kind of girl, Soonyoung regrets kissing her more than he ever wanted to kiss her in the first place.

•

please let me explain

I’m sorry

it’s been a while, but still

I’m sorry

[🍥] Explain what?

[🍥] ...

[🍥] Soonyoung?

sorry I just

I wasn’t expecting you to answer

[🍥] Maybe I shouldn’t have

no

wait

I’m sorry

[🍥] So I’ve heard

I just want you to know why what happened, happened

[🍥] But I already know why

it’s not that simple

[🍥] You lied because you suck at lying. Because you knew Sehee was there that night and panicked. I was just collateral damage

[🍥] ...

[🍥] No answer, huh?

[🍥] So it really is that simple

please wait

I’m just trying to figure myself out

[🍥] Let me help you

[🍥] You want my forgiveness because you feel guilty. Maybe you don’t know it yet, but you want me to say I forgive you just so you won’t have to carry this around for the rest of your life

[🍥] I know this isn’t some romcom. I know you’re not here to get me back

[🍥] So just let it go

[🍥] Let’s just forget about this. About what happened

what if I can’t

[🍥] I don’t know

[🍥] Figure it out, I guess

[🍥] But do it on your own

•

Soonyoung doesn’t measure his time anymore.

He wakes up. He eats. He goes to class. He skips lunch. He goes home. He eats. He falls asleep.

When was the last time he went out with someone? When was the last time he had a real conversation?

He doesn’t know.

•

[Minghao] You should tell everyone else

why

[Minghao] Would you rather they think you’re a cheater or just an idiot?

I don’t know

[Minghao] I think they deserve an explanation

[Minghao] Want me to do it for you?

does it even matter anymore

[Minghao] It’s your choice

[Minghao] You just have to make it

then tell them

I don’t care

[Minghao] Are you sure?

tell them

•

These days, Soonyoung stays late at the studio. No one really practices there anymore, not since the showcase finished and finals have rolled around. Actually, Soonyoung should be studying too, but he can’t find the motivation. He thinks it might be the guilt.

You were right. He doesn’t want to carry this around.

The thing is, despite spending entire evenings in the studio, he can’t remember anything as he walks home. It must be hours spent in there, and yet, when he walks out, he can’t recall a thing. Like he was never there at all.

Where does the time go?

With his luck, the elevator is broken when he returns to the apartment building, so he has to take the stairs. Normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but after hours of mindless, sloppy dancing, he’s much too tired. He fumbles with his keys when he tries to open the door, and he rests his forehead on the cool wood for a moment, sighing before he tries again.

The door creaks open. Though it’s late, the lights are still on, which Soonyoung frowns at when he realizes. Lately, Jihoon is never up when Soonyoung comes home. But there he is, sitting at the table right next to the kitchen with his eyes on his hands and his feet tucked under the chair.

Soonyoung freezes after shutting the door behind him, not wholly sure what to make of the scene before him.

After a moment of silence, Jihoon looks up from his fingers and meets Soonyoung’s gaze.

“Minghao called me today,” he says.

Soonyoung gulps, but doesn’t respond — doesn’t know how to.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first, you know.” His voice is slow, croaky; tired. “But it sort of makes sense, doesn’t it. I don’t know how I didn’t see it from the start.”

Slowly, Soonyoung slips off his shoes and steps further into the apartment. “So now you know. I’m really not in the mood for a lecture right now.”

“I just have a question.”

Soonyoung pauses, halfway through the apartment and only a few meters from his bedroom door. He turns to face Jihoon, sighing through his nose and digging his palm into his eye sockets. “Fine,” he concedes. “What?”

“If you never loved — never liked her, why are you acting like this now?”

“Acting like what?”

“Like a dead man walking.”

Soonyoung scoffs, a dry, empty sound as he looks away for a moment before meeting Jihoon’s gaze again. “You’re kidding, right?” he asks. “I lied to someone for months. I pretended to love someone I didn’t. I used her because of my own stupidity and pride, and then I used Sehee, too—” Pausing, he closes his eyes; takes a breath. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s guilt. I feel guilty for... for everything.”

“That’s the only reason?”

“Excuse me?”

Jihoon rhythmically taps the pads of his fingers on the table. It’s not loud enough to be heard, but Soonyoung’s eyes train to the sight. “It’s only the guilt?”

“What else would it be?”

This time, it’s Jihoon who sighs. He looks at his hands again for a second. “Do me a favour,” he says without looking up.

“Look, I already—”

“Just do what I say.”

Soonyoung groans, but he knows he can’t argue with Jihoon and win — not now at least. He rubs his eyes, shoulders rising and falling as he takes in a deep breath. Mumbling under his breath, he says, “Fine.”

Jihoon stands from his chair, and in such stagnant silence, the sound of the legs squeaking on the floor is profound. He points to the middle of the apartment, the large bit of floor-space that’s too big to be considered part of the kitchen but too small to house any furniture.

“Stand right there.”

“...What?”

Without answering, Jihoon simply points at the floor again, and Soonyoung can only groan in defiance as he moves to stand in that spot. Grabbing a throw pillow from the couch, Jihoon steps a few feet away, facing Soonyoung with the pillow held in one hand at his side. He seems to consider something for a moment.

Soonyoung has never been unable to read Jihoon this much, so he asks, “What is this all about—”

Jihoon screams. Not a high-pitched screech, but a guttural battle cry, and Soonyoung’s eyes widen. Faster than he can comprehend, Jihoon runs towards him and tackles him to the ground. Soonyoung’s legs crumble as he falls, and he feels the throw pillow pressing onto his face.

This is it, he thinks. This is how he dies.

“Jihoon!” he cries, but his protest is muffled by the pillow. “What the fuck are you—!”

“You fucking idiot! You don’t know shit!”

“I know that!” Soonyoung thrashes to get the pillow off, but Jihoon is way stronger than he looks.

“You miss her you fucking buffoon! You’re all in your doom and gloom because you had a good thing going and had to go fuck it up!”

“I don’t!”

“Don’t try to argue with me, fucker, I know you better than anyone. Now scream!”

The pillows squishes further down, and while Soonyoung can still breathe, it’s far from comfortable. He continues to struggle even though he knows it’s useless.

“What?!”

“Scream into the pillow! You’re mad at yourself and you should be! Let it all out!”

“I—”

“Scream!”

And he does. He lets out a loud bellow that’s nothing but sound roaring from his lungs. He does it mostly to appease Jihoon — so that maybe he’ll finally get off.

But it feels good.

No, not good, really. It feels awful. Everything feels awful. Yet, something about screaming makes him want to do it again. He yells once more into the pillow, the sound muffled in the fabric and yet intensely remarkable. He screams and he screams and he screams until he can’t scream anymore and his voice is raw and there’s no more sound aside from the fractured gasps of his sobs. Tears soak into rough fabric, and he doesn’t even notice that Jihoon isn’t holding the pillow anymore — he’s pressing it to his face himself. His body shakes under Jihoon. Soonyoung feels pathetic, but he can’t stop.

He tries again to scream into the pillow, but his voice cracks and all he knows is to cry.

This is what it’s like.

Quietly, Jihoon maneuvers himself so he sits by Soonyoung’s head. He slowly lifts a corner of the pillow and peeks at Soonyoung’s red face. “So,” he whispers, voice soft and full of care. “What are you going to do now?”

Soonyoung wraps his arms around the pillow, hiding his face again.

“I don’t know,” he says. He’s never felt less sure of anything. “I don’t know.”

•

That night, Soonyoung cleans his room. He doesn’t reorganize or anything, just picks discarded clothes up off the ground and throws them in a hamper, spreads his blankets so his bed actually looks bed-like, and takes his overflowing garbage bin out to the door, where he’ll take it out tomorrow morning. As he stretches his arm between his bed and the wall, his fingers close around the sweater he’s trying to reach and... something else. When he brings his hand back up, a small tiger plush stares back at him.

Go get ‘em, tiger!

He stares at the words for a moment, sitting up on his bed and leaning his back against the wall. The plush feels frail in his hands, almost like the velvet heart held in the tiger’s paws could crumble at any moment. Maybe it will.

Soonyoung settles down above the covers that night, and the tiger sits on his other pillow.

The one that still smells like you.

•

He cries. (For the second time since you left.)

•

After everything that’s happened, one would think it would take a miracle to fix what’s been broken. Soonyoung thinks it will take more than that, but still; he’s no miracle worker. He thinks it will take magic to just see you again.

Turns out, it takes a coffee.

Jihoon forces Soonyoung to join him in visiting one of the campus cafes. He doesn’t think about it too much, just believes Jihoon’s trying to keep him alive with a little kick of caffeine. That thought is pushed away when Jihoon blocks him from sitting at the little table, pointing instead across the space to the student printing center.

You’re talking to a customer at the front counter, forearms rested on the white faux marble. A smile is on your lips as you say whatever it is you’re saying to the girl, and Soonyoung finds it almost impossible to tear his eyes away. But he does. He scans the rest of the building for a second. Seungkwan is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Minghao.

He turns to Jihoon, a question on the tip of his tongue.

“She told the bodyguards to back off,” Jihoon explains without needing to be asked. “It’s been a few days.” He nods his chin towards you. “Go on. Talk to her.”

Soonyoung shakes his head, gulping down the words he can’t yet think of. “I don’t... I’m not... ready.”

“If you back out now, you’re going to keep backing out until it’s too late.”

Jihoon’s eyes blaze with an unfitting determination for such a setting. He looks stupid, like some self-made, all-knowing relationship guru who likes the coke he’s gripping too much. Still, he’s right.

Soonyoung licks his dry lips and looks at you again. You’ve sat down, relaxed after having helped that customer and now conversing with one of the other students working there. He misses the way you looked when you were happy — when you were happy with him.

What will it take to see that again?

What will it take to hold you again?

His feet move before his doubts can stop him, and the scene feels awfully familiar. This time though, Soonyoung can’t help but feel like the bad guy.

You don’t notice him until he’s right in front of you, and he doesn’t know what hurts more: the immediate frown, or the fake smile you use to cover it up.

“Hi, what can I do for you today?”

If Soonyoung had to define heartache, he might use this moment. Feigning to forget rather than acknowledging the past... it’s effective, but it hurts.

“Can...” He hesitates and curses himself for it. “Can we talk?”

“About printing, yes. About anything else? I really would rather we didn’t,” you say under your breath. It’s hushed, and you don’t shy away when Soonyoung leans closer to hear. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?

“But there’s something I need to say.”

“I don’t think I want to hear anymore apologies, Soonyoung.”

“It’s not that,” he argues.

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “It’s not an apology?”

“No— I mean, well, yes I want to apologize. I don’t think I’ll ever stop apologizing, but— but that’s not what I—”

“Soonyoung.”

He stops at your word, knowing that speaking will only get him further into trouble. Around you, his words keep failing. Instead, he meets your eyes, which under more inspection, seem hardened.

Have eyes ever looked so hardened when brimmed with tears?

“I don’t know if you know this, but seeing you makes me hate myself.” By now, your coworker has walked to the back, probably to respect your privacy. Your voice almost cracks. “I’ve felt worthless before, but Soonyoung, do you even realize what that — what you did to me?”

He barely breathes before saying, “What if I... what if I said I fell in love with you? Somewhere along the way?” A pause. Your eyes waver, but steady themselves. “What if I said I love you?”

“Soonyoung,” you say after a second.

“Yes?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

•

[🍥] Give me a reason to give you a chance

this is real right?

[🍥] It’s not a dream if that’s what you’re asking

all of a sudden??

[🍥] Minghao and Jihoon said I should

[🍥] And I think I should too

[🍥] But it’s hard

[🍥] What you said yesterday... I don’t know if I can believe it just yet

will you meet me?

I want to see you

[🍥] Can you give me some time?

yes

all the time you need

but will you?

will you meet me?

[🍥] I don’t want to

[🍥] But then again, I do

[🍥] Just give me some time

•

A strange thing, time. It passes by much too quickly when you want it to last, and it drags on when all you want is to be there. There; right then; right now.

Soonyoung stays up late turning on and off his phone, waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.

It’s only been two days.

Jihoon thinks he’s crazy, though he hasn’t said it out loud — Soonyoung can tell.

He also thinks he might be a little crazy, but that’s okay. If it means he’ll get the chance to make it up to you... maybe he’s fine with being crazy.

At some point, Jihoon barges into his room and takes away Soonyoung’s phone, snatching it straight out of his hands like the little thief he is. He keeps it out of reach despite being shorter, preaching bullshit like, “You need to calm down and act like a normal person!”

Fine, whatever.

Soonyoung goes out for some air. And instant ramen.

There’s a twenty-four hour convenience store right on the edge of campus, manned by a single tired university student that everyone is aware of, yet no one really seems to know his name. It’s one of those spots where time doesn’t exist; maybe names don’t, either.

Compared to the blackness of night, the blanch white convenience store sticks out like a sore thumb, especially with all the bright posters and fluorescent tube-lights. Soonyoung feels just as out of place with no people around just outside the store, but really, it’s to be expected at a time like two in the morning.

He’s right at the door when it chimes and slides open. And so are you.

Both of you freeze where you are, you in the doorway and he just in front. His jaw slacks slightly as he takes you in.

You’re in casual clothes again, a thick sweater and presumably pyjama pants. This version of you comes with good memories — for some reason he likes it more than he cares to admit. Maybe he liked that you could share a more vulnerable side to him, and he to you in return. Although, you’ve shown this side to even the unnamed convenience store guy.

It’s your voice that breaks him from his reverie.

“Soonyoung,” you say, and it’s softer than before. Maybe your voice is lighter from the fact that it’s two in the morning, maybe just because you’re tired, but a small part of Soonyoung wishes that it’s something else — that you sound softer because you’ve missed him too.

He hopes it isn’t just hope.

He says your name, the sound beautiful and battered on his tongue. A small smile passes your lips, so fast that he almost misses it, but he doesn’t. That’s one thing he knows about you: how much you care. Even if someone hurts you, you always take the time to hear them out. You give them chances. Soonyoung should thank his lucky stars that you’ve done the same for him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

You smile again, and it reaches your eyes, however sad.

“Is it time?” he asks.

“It can be.” The plastic bag in your hand crinkles as you sway it back and forth. “Do you want it to be?”

“Yeah.” His voice comes out like a breath. “Please.”

“Then that’s what we’ll make it.”

You gesture to the ground, where the curb meets the asphalt, but Soonyoung is still a little shocked that he’s even met you here in the first place, so he watches, dazed, as you sit down on the curb before joining in. He stays silent as you pull out an ice cream cup and hand it to him. He stays silent as you procure a second one and peel open the plastic lid, digging into it with the wooden stick spoon-wannabe that comes with the package. He stays silent as you look at him, the wooden stick hanging from your mouth.

“So,” you say, scraping the side of the paper cup. Meeting his eyes, you sport a sly smile. “I hear you’re in love with me.”

The ice cream stays unopened in his hands. He finds it so easy to smile back.

“Yeah. I think I am.”

“You think you are?”

“I’ve never loved someone like this before,” he tries to explain, though the words are slow to his tongue. “I can only think.”

“I guess so.”

“But—” he looks at his fingers, fiddling with the plastic lid of the cup, and a small laugh escapes “—I’m thinking really, really hard.”

You laugh too; his heart blooms.

“Is that so?” you tease, smiling around the wooden spoon. “It’s gonna take more than that.”

“I think I can do it.”

“You think?”

“I think really hard.”

Soonyoung might be in love with every part of you, even if he never realized. Your laugh, your smile, your tells, your habits. He wishes he knew sooner, that this laugh could’ve been his forever long before now.

You scrape the last drops of ice cream out of the paper cup and leave the stick in your mouth, a bit chewed up. Your shoes tap against the asphalt, the rhythm something that draws both his and your eyes.

“You know...” you say, turning your head to meet his gaze once more. “You know you hurt me, right? You know this won’t be easy?”

“None of what we had was easy.”

A scoff runs past your lips. You bump your shoulder against his. “Speak for yourself. I fell hard and fast for you, asshole.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I know.” You take the still unopened ice cream from his hands and stuff it right back in the bag it came from. “Say it again, though.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hmmm... maybe it’ll take a few more times.”

“I’m—”

“But not tonight,” you say. “Tonight...”

Your hand beside him closes the distance, grazing over his and pulling it over to your lap.

“...just hold me?”

And he does.

Bonus (gn) epilogue: Fluff and Context Bonus (gn) blurbs: [a fate of my choosing][pick a struggle]

[spicyspiders]

I was thinking of a Steve Rogers x MReader cute fic of them meeting at a fair ground. Maybe reader is having a bad and traumatic date and Steve rescues him after seeing reader so uncomfortable. Steve walks him home and ask if he can be his date for the fair the next day, being all fluffy and stuff, ending with Steve walking reader back home the next night again and ending the date with a kiss that turns kinda spicy 😏 thinking maybe a suggestive ending with Dom Steve 🤭🤭

There isn't smut in this, but it is suggestive at the end.

“You wanna go do something else? This is fucking lame,” your date says after you’ve barely stepped into the tent. It was warm in the tent, which was much better than how it felt outside, so no, you didn’t want to go outside and do something else. 

You were the one who had chosen the date, and you thought he would enjoy a nice night at the fair, but you were wrong. All night, he was dismissive of everything you tried to do to show him a good time, and it had started to get on your nerves a few attractions ago. 

“Can’t we stay inside for a little bit? It’s pretty cold out there,” you asked. You could admit that yes, it was cold, which could easily sour the mood, but you just wanted him to give it a chance. 

“You can,” he snapped, “I’m not,” and with those harsh words, he was out of the tent and back into the cold night air. 

Not only did the tone of his words make you flinch, but they also made the attraction that you had stepped into the tent to see stop laying their fists into the punching bag they were really giving it to. 

“You okay?” He asked softly, placing one hand on the bag to stop it from swinging. 

“Yeah,” you tried to force a laugh to break the tension, but it didn’t sound right, “sorry you had to see that. I guess I’m not good at picking dates.”

“He seemed like a real piece of work,” the man responded before he started punching the bag again. There was already a pile on the floor, near the sign with a name on it. Steve it said, and above it was a drawn portrait of the man up on the small stage punching the bag in front of him. 

“Yeah. Our first date wasn’t too good either now that I think about it,” the man had been 30 minutes late to get dinner, and he was the one who had chosen the restaurant. That should have been your sign, but you had always been one to give second chances. Then he had seemingly forgotten his wallet, which should have been your second sign, but after all, the third time’s the charm. Or something like that. 

Steve continued punching the bag and you watched on just to see how long he could go. His stamina was already impressive just by looking at how he’s barely broken a sweat, making you wonder just how long he could go. 

You jumped when Steve landed a punch harder than the last and the bag flew off the hook to join the pile with the other. “Woah,” you said quietly. 

“Want me to go catch him?” Steve asks. He steps off the stage and gets close enough that you can smell how clean he smells. Only a hint of musk hits your nose, impressing you further with how the fair has been open for a few hours now. “I could use a live target.”

Your brows shoot up and your eyes go wide, but the other man chuckles in response. “I’m joking,” Steve says, holding his hands up. 

“I should probably go try and catch him,” not that you really wanted to, but Steve getting this close to you had you go from feeling warm to hot. Some cool, fresh air would probably do you good. 

“Suit yourself,” Steve says before he steps away with a smirk. He returns to the stage with another bag and places it onto the hook. Before you leave the tent, you can’t help but watch for a minute or two, or three, or four the way Steve’s muscles move as he starts punching the bag again. 

You place a tip in the jar with the worker that stands in front of the tint. They smile gratefully at you, one that you return. You grab one of the flyers beside the jar that advertises the tent you were just in. Steve the Strongman the flyer reads at the top, and below it is the same portrait on the sign inside. 

By the time you had walked around the fair trying to find your date, the cold of the night had seeped under your clothes. You couldn’t find the man and stopped your search with a sigh. It was cold enough to see it in front of you. You pulled out your phone and another sigh left your body when your phone lit up to a blank screen. At least you stopped in front of a food stand, maybe it could help warm you up. 

Sometime later, after you were full of overpriced fair food, you heard a familiar voice behind you, “mind if I join you?” 

You turn to face Steve, a brown leather jacket now disappointingly overtop his upper body. “Sure,” gesturing to the other seat at the picnic table you sat at with a small smile. 

“Actually,” Steve said as he glanced around, “the night’s winding down. Can I walk you home?” He asks, holding a hand out. 

His warm fingers wrap around yours when you take his hand, “sorry if my hand is cold,” you say after you’ve thrown your trash away, careful not to accidentally throw Steve’s flyer away with it. 

“I don’t mind,” he responds as he squeezes your hand. His hand felt like you were holding a cup of freshly brewed coffee, you were sure it was going to warm up quickly. “I’m guessing he left?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve responds softly, his thumb running softly across your skin. 

“It’s fine,” you were disappointed, but more so in the effort you put into the night. Though, the payoff of having Steve walk you homemade that bitter feeling hurt less. 

“So,” you began as you walked through the grounds to the exit, “how long have you been doing this?”

“Not long,” Steve responds, “it started with portraits, and then I was asked to become the fair’s strongman attraction. It helps that they don’t mind all of the punching bags I go through, the old gym I went to though is a different story.”

“You drew this?” You asked, holding up his flyer. 

Steve laughed as he looked at the flyer, “I drew all of the portraits on the signs for the attractions. This was just supposed to be a one-time thing when the original strongman got sick.”

“Why didn’t he come back?” You asked. Maybe Steve used him as a real-life target, like he asked if he needed you to do earlier. 

“I heard he’s an art model now,” Steve says as you leave the fairgrounds and step onto the sidewalk. 

“Good for him. Are you thinking about following in his footsteps?” You ask with a smirk.

Steve lets out a loud laugh, “doubt it,” he goes quiet for a moment before speaking again, “but if you need some help with sketching anatomy, I’m sure we could work something out.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’ll even give you a discount because you kept my flyer.”

Steve makes the usual long and boring walk back to your place much less long and boring, and by the time you’re at your doorstep, you almost want to ask if he’ll do it over again just to spend more time together. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to find that guy and rough him up a little?” Steve asks on your front doorstep. 

“I’m sure,” you say with a laugh, “you could sign this though,” you hold up the flyer, “all of my pens are inside though.”

Steve doesn’t sign the flyer that night, he’s far too busy kissing you once you’re through the door. The next morning though, after you’ve woken up alone in bed, you find the flyer on your bedside table, Steve’s phone number written underneath his signature. 

[chrisevansonly]

𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒆𝒔 & 𝑩𝒖𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔

ʚ harry styles x female reader

ʚ nothing will ever compare to bath time with your little one

ʚ no warnings just fluffy dad! harry:)

ʚ thank you to one of my anons for sending in a bunch of requests, this isn’t for harry’s angel just a cute little stand-alone of dadrry because we can never have enough, just a little fic for now, i still feel like my writing is shit🙃

The bathroom smelt like lavender and vanilla, bubbles coating the water softly as your baby girl lay in her bath chair, the warm water just barely covering her tummy. Aria smiled up at her dad, her eyes watching him curiously as he brought a cup of warm water up and let it cascade over her.

“you like the warm water don’t you petal?”

Harry was sure Aria could understand him at this point, even if he knew she couldn’t, nothing would convince him otherwise. Bath time had been a ritual between the father an daughter since she was born, you were more than happy to watch them, sat comfortably along the side of the tub.

“yeah, feels nice doesn’t it? nice and warm, you’re gonna smell so good”

Aria let out a few giggles as Harry scooped up some bubbles in his hands and blew them over her head, the smile never leaving her tiny face for a minute

“she is just the sweetest thing isn’t she?”

Turning to smile at you Harry nodded

“sweet as can be, can’t believe she’s all ours too…”

Humming in agreement you let yourself focus back on the now very squirmy baby in the bathtub, a spitting image of her dad in every way. The curls slowly starting to come out every day that passed by, his nose, his eyes, she was Harry’s twin.

“she might be getting cold H, i’ll grab her towel”

Getting up you walked to warmer on the far wall, her winnie the pooh towel hanging gently, nice and warm when you picked it up. Aria could help but flail her arms and let out a squeal of sorts seeing you come back, the noticeable yellow towel catching her eye

“alright darling, you go see mummy who will get you all nice and warm”

“come here my girl!”

Cooing softly at the wrinkly little girl you quickly placed her on your shoulder, wrapping the warm towel around her. Your hand rubbing her back as you began to bounce lightly, Aria was a great sleeper, and you knew after bath time it would have her out like a light.

“okay, let’s let daddy clean up and we’ll go pick some jammies..”

Harry pressed a kiss to your temple before you and your little one made it to her nursery, she’d just started sleeping on her own, which had been an adjustment but she was taking it like a champ, and honestly slept better without being in the same room as you and H.

“here we go angel, let’s put you in something nice and fuzzy”

Aria was comfortable on your shoulder, little noises escaping her every so often, your hands picked out a blue and lavender onesie with little clouds on on it, knowing it would keep her nice and warm throughout the night. It was a routine now, setting her down on the change table, gently rubbing cream into her delicate skin and getting her all bundled up for bedtime. Harry would find the two of you usually just as you were finishing up the snaps on her pyjama’s, his arms reaching for her so he could give her a bottle and read her a story.

“say thank you for getting me all ready for bed mummy, I feel so warm and smell so good”

A soft laugh escaped your lips as Harry wiggled her little arm gently, your lips kissing her forehead softly before giving Harry a much needed kiss

“you’re welcome my babies, i love you so much my aria girl, sleep well and mummy will see you in the morning.”

Standing up you took one last look at your husband and daughter before running a thumb across Harry’s cheek

“thank you for bath time tonight and for being the worlds best dad, we are so lucky to have you baby”

“i’d do anything for the two of you, always”

Tossing the pair one last smile you walked to turn off the big light in the room, switching on her night light and sound machine, leaving the room quietly. There was no one else in the world you’d ever want to experience this life with, and seeing Harry become a father, was one of the greatest moments in life.

He was a natural and he’d do anything for his girls.

[familyvideostevie]

hi hi lovely first of all i would LOVE to read your fluffy joel fic with no smut, i love your writing a lot and it’s just perfect and so comforting. also, if it is okay i would like to request a joel fic where the reader is someone who gets cold really easily and he’s always being a bit bossy and grumpy with her because she doesn’t wear enough layers or always gives him their blankets, and just like very fluffy very cute vibes! i love youuuuu

omg. yay!!! congratulations you are my first joel request!! thank you very much, this was a lot of fun. it's very short and a bit sweet and i hope you like it! (hope you like the fluffy joel fic, too!) joel doesn't get why you won't wear your damn gloves. fluff, jackson au, 0.8k

---

It starts with gloves.

"You okay?" Joel asks. Well, grunts, more like. You're on patrol which is serious business so you're getting serious Joel.

"Uh, yeah," you say. "Why?"

His jaw shifts like he's grinding his teeth. "You look..."

You try not to smirk too much. "How do I look, Joel?"

The two of you have been doing...whatever it is you're doing for a few months now. Gentle flirting turned to drinks turned to dinner turned to nights in his bed or yours, whispers in your hair and lips on your skin, his steady, solid presence at your side around town.

It's nice. You're enjoying it. And, perhaps most of all, you're enjoying how Joel Miller continues to surprise you. The depth of his worry and care, the jokes he tells out of nowhere, how his nostrils flare when he's trying to hide his smile.

You knew him to be a man capable of violence. You're all capable of violence. You've seen it, done it. That's life. It hardens you.

And while Joel is grumpy a lot of the time for good reason he also knows how to laugh loudly and is learning a song you love and haven't heard in twenty years so he can play it for you on his guitar.

So his unamused glare delights you more than anything.

"You look cold," he huffs.

"Well, it is fall in Wyoming, Joel," you say. "It's cold outside and we're outside." You sweep your arm in a wide arc at the beauty of the valley. Your horse snorts as if agreeing with you. He's right, though. You're cold but it's bearable. You get cold pretty easily, in fact, but Joel has no reason to know that. The weather just started to change.

"Well," he says, mocking you. "Why don't you have gloves or a hat or somethin'?"

He knows why. Because you left for patrol from his house without stopping at yours. You know he's going to find a way to make this his fault, for not checking that you had everything you needed, for not offering you the clothes on his back. You also know he's going to file this away and make it his new mission.

"Because I'm fine, that's why." Your tone leaves no room for argument but Joel tries anyway.

"Your hands are red."

"Joel," you snap. "I'm fine. Leave it."

Sometimes it's overwhelming to be cared about by a man with his intensity. He doesn't do things by halves. You're still learning what it means for him to be all in on you.

He says nothing. You glance at him and see he's holding out a pair of leather gloves you recognize.

"I'm not taking your gloves --"

"Just fuckin' take 'em, alright? If your hands are cold then you can't shoot and I don't want to have to leave you out here because someone got the jump on us. Ellie would kill me."

Typical Joel. Covering up his concern with gruffness. But you know better than to take it personally by now -- you see him with Ellie, see him with people in town. You know what he's like in your bed when he wakes up, the way he strokes your jaw and presses his lips to your temple. You know what's underneath this exterior.

So even if it's a little overwhelming you take the gloves and work them onto your hands. But you don't say thank you because you can't let him win everything.

But after that patrol Joel does make it his mission to ensure you're not cold. It's a little overbearing but you know he likes to be useful so what do you do? You lean into it. You do get cold easily, after all. You let him drape his flannels around you when you don't wear enough layers on the way to his house. You let him tug the hat on your head over your ears. You let him tuck a blanket under your feet on the couch. You let him take care of you.

"Feels like you're doin' this on purpose," he grumbles one night as you walk back from The Tipsy Bison. There's a bite to tonight's wind and he's got his arm around your shoulders so you're pressed into his side. You aren't wearing a coat warm enough for the chill.

"Doing what?"

"Being a pain in my ass. Givin' me grey hairs with your fuckin' determination to get frost bite."

"Well if you hate it so much --" You pretend to pull away from him but his doesn't let you go far.

"Didn't say that. Just think you should dress properly for once."

You laugh and pull him to a stop, turning so you're pressed against his chest.. "Why do I need more layers when I have you?"

"I see how it is," he drawls. "Usin' me for my warmth, are you?"

Joel isn't big on public displays of affection. He's a private man and likes to keep his cards close to his chest. But it's nighttime and there's hardly anyone out, so when you lean close he allows it, brushing your noses together.

"Course I am," you whisper.

He huffs. His palms press into your back. "Figures."

The kiss he gives you warms you all the way down to your toes.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[natimiles]

I See the Light (Levi x reader)

Summary: It’s your wedding day with Levi!

Words: 1500

Tags: female reader; wedding; established relationship; assertive Levi (but not that much).

Notes: IT’S MY 5TH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY TODAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! And you guys will celebrate it with me with this cute little fic where we marry Levi. I’m gonna be self-indulgent today, so we have a female reader.

The title is the song from Tangled, I walked down the aisle at my wedding to that song. Half of Levi’s vows are from his proposal at the “Wedding” event. And the reader’s vows are my real vows, teehee. I cut some stuff so it isn’t too big and adapted the demon references, but it’s essentially mine. Yes, I said it all at my wedding, and there’s one awesome picture with everyone laughing with a big :O face.

This is queued because I’m obviously not here today. Enjoy the fluffy!

“I swear I’ll hit you,” Asmo threatens, pulling the tie a little more roughly than needed to tie the knot, just to make his point.

“S-sorry,” Levi says, taking his hand away from his mouth with a sheepish smile.

He hasn’t felt this nervous in so long… But could he be blamed? It’s an important situation, one that makes him anxious and sends him spiraling.

He never thought he’d be so nervous doing something with you — well, not anymore. You’ve been together for so long, sharing your days and nights with him, showering him with love and appreciation. After all these years, he grew accustomed to all of it. So feeling nervous now is kind of new again.

He knows better than to test his brother’s ire, and he knows that if he bites his nails and ruins the nail polish — again — Asmo will kill him.

And you’d have no one to marry today if his brother killed him.

Levi tries to calm himself down. He closes his eyes and thinks about you. You must look so beautiful in a wedding dress. You didn’t let him see it yet, saying it’d bring bad luck — some human superstition. He imagines you in the room next to his, getting ready for this important day...

“Just breathe,” Asmo smiles. “Everything is going according to plan.”

“Alright,” Levi tries to take a deep breath, but it’s shaky. He wonders if you’re ready, if you can start this and bind yourselves to each other for eternity, and... Oh... Oh, he hopes you attend it. You wouldn’t run away, right? You’ve had years to realize he was a loser; it’d be really mean if you decided to leave him now... He frowns; his hands are sweating again, and— “Ouch!”

“I told you I’d hit you if you bit your nails,” Asmo glares. “I’ve already painted them three times, and we have no time left to do a fourth. So stop it.”

A soft knock on the door interrupts the two brothers’ light fight, and Satan peeks his head inside.

“Are you finished? She’s good to go.”

“Good to—” Levi starts yelling.

“To go get married, Levi!” Asmo cuts him shortly, pinching his arm and earning a loud yelp. “For the love of anything!”

“Don’t need to hit me,” he mumbles, rubbing the spot where he was pinched.

Satan chuckles, looking at the banter. “Can we go?”

“Wait!” Asmo raises a hand to make them stop. He checks his brother, his eyes roaming over him one last time to make sure everything is fine. The dark blue suit is pristine, the tie is straight, Levi’s hair is still in place (combed back), his makeup is good, and his nails are still painted. “Alright, let’s go!”

When the three arrive at the entrance to the Demon Castle Garden, they meet the rest of their brothers, Simeon and Solomon, gathered there. They whistle, cheer, and smile, making Levi blush even more. Asmo complains, saying he forbids them from making Levi start biting his nails again and adjusts everyone in line to start.

With everyone ready, the Avatar of Lust flicks his wrist, and a soft song starts to play on the speakers on the other side of the door, making everyone there fall silent. As the door in front of them opens, it’s possible to finally see the garden and everyone waiting there.

The long dark blue carpet connects the beginning to the end of the corridor where they’ll walk down now. The string lights hung in the trees — probably with a bit of magic — giving an air of stars illuminating the place. The large vases beside the rows of chairs, filled with flowers from the Devildom and the Human Realm, in beautiful compositions of navy blue and orange.

The best men start to walk in pairs through the corridor, splitting into two when they reach the end — one pair going to Levi’s side and the other to yours. One by one, the pairs walk: Asmo and Solomon, Lucifer and Mammon, Belphie and Beel, Satan and Simeon...

“I think I’m dying,” Levi mumbles under his breath, to no one in particular.

The song changes slightly, and he closes his eyes for a few seconds to take a deep breath. He regrets suggesting he could enter alone so his brothers could pair between them with no problem. Levi feels the cold sweat trickling down his spine, making his whole body shiver. It’s so scary; he wonders how people do that without passing out. But he will be strong, and he will fight this anxiety one more time — for you.

He reopens his eyes and takes one step forward. He is so nervous he can’t even look to the sides to see who attended the wedding. Slow and steady, he makes his way to the end of the corridor. He breathes a sigh of relief when he gets there, turning around to see the guests. Levi smiles softly, but it falters when the song stops and the door is closed again.

For a few seconds, it’s all silent and quiet, but then your song starts.

This is it.

There’s no turning back.

You won’t run from him.

You’ll never be away from him ever again.

You’ll share your lives and stay together forever.

The door slowly opens, and his breath catches in his throat. Your white dress sparkles under the moonlight of the Devildom and the fairy lights in the garden. You’re smiling, and he notices how nervous you are when you meet his gaze. In an instant, you’re right in front of him, and he sees you’re just as emotional as he is, which soothes him.3

The ceremony goes well, with Diavolo being responsible for officiating it and saying a few words about humans and demons coexisting together. 

And it’s time for you and Levi to say your vows. The sea serpent demon is shaking so hard, you think he might faint at any moment, but he does his best to keep it together. He reaches for one of the rings and holds it in his hand to pronounce his vows to you.

“I always mess everything up when it counts the most, but this is who I am,” he starts with a shaky voice, slowly gaining courage. “I want you to be with me despite that. I never thought I’d be lucky enough to find someone, but I found you. I want us to overcome the difficult stages in life together and defeat whatever stands in our way. I promise to always, always love and cherish you. To infinity and beyond.”

You smile widely as his unsteady hands put the ring on your finger, kissing it lightly right after.

It’s your turn now, so you grab his ring to do the same. And looking into those deep sunset eyes, you begin your vows.

“Who thought we would be here today, getting married? Me,” you smile, and he returns it, blushing slightly. “Because I liked you since the first time I saw you. And after 4 years, 11 months, and 11 days together, it’s finally our time, and I couldn’t be happier to be marrying you. You’re the most wonderful and beautiful demon I know, inside and out. It’s really easy to be with you because you never laugh at the things I share with you, and our silliness complements each other. You are, above everything else, my best friend; the Lord of Shadows to my Henry. Lots of things might change now, but I promise you that my love will never change. I promise to always be your support and keep my games updated. I promise to bring you breakfast in bed on all your birthdays, and I promise to expect the same thing on mine. I promise to make you happy in the same proportion that you make me, and to be by your side forever because ‘the team is us’. I can’t see me loving nobody but you for all my life. I love you, to infinity and beyond.”

With shaky hands and your vision blurred with tears, you slide the wedding ring on Levi’s finger, giving him a peck too. He reaches for your face and cups your cheeks, wiping the happy tears with his thumbs.

You’re so giggly inside, like your happiness can’t be contained anymore. And when Diavolo finally says you two can kiss, it’s like everything explodes. His lips are glued to yours in no time, and you’re returning the kiss with the same intensity.

All shyness, anxiety, and nervousness are left behind, for now, it’s like there’s only the two of you. You can’t hear the guests cheering, or Mammon crying saying he’s happy but that’s enough kissing, or Asmo whistling suggestively and loud.

It’s just the two of you, in your own little world.

You pull away to look into each other’s eyes, foreheads pressed against each other, and you know this is the start of an even happier life.

Taglist: @sh0jun @chandeliermichel @judejazza

Masterlists

[firstdivisiongirl]

Heyyy! Can I please request a fluffy Law scenario?

Like Law and Y/n are becoming close and Law is starting to open up more and take down his walls. But as he's slowly opening up to Y/n as they date longer and longer, he starts to feel insecure about if he's being too clingy or if he looks too needy. Maybe the reader notices something is off and comforts him?

He really just wants to be held and cuddled and loved. He's a fluffy soft boy! <3

If you don't want to do this you don't have to but I thought it'd be cute :)

Hi Liv! Oh my god, this one was a lot of fun for me. Law is one of my favorite characters to write for (though I don’t seem to lol). I hope you like it and thanks again for the SaboxKoala fic you wrote for me!

Law x Reader: Needed

Law wasn’t one to share much.  Heck, most of his crew knew little about him.  Well, that was until you came along.  He wanted to hate everything about you.  You were optimistic, sweet, happy.  You were everything he wasn’t.  But somehow, everything he needed.  

For the first few months of joining the crew, you refused to leave him alone.  He hates it at first.  But that enemasity bloomed into something more love.  First, it became platonic love.  The two would have coffee together late at night when they both couldn’t sleep.  You’d have long talks.  He’d teach you about medicine, while you taught him about linguistics.  But soon after it became romantic love.  He kissed you first.  It was a surprise to feel his chapped lips pressed to your soft ones.  It felt right though.  

As time went and you dated for longer, he started to open up to you more.  You learn about his childhood.  You learned about Corazon.  He felt he could tell you anything and you’d never judge him.  When he’d have a nightmare, he’d come into your room.  Sometimes, he’d crawl into bed with you just lay with you, holding you close.  Whenever you’d go to a new island, you’d have to spend time with him.  But one day, he stopped.  Late night conversations were a lot less frequent.  He never came to your room at night just to cuddle. You knew something was really off when you went to a new island, and he said you and Ikkaku could go out today.

You decided to confront him once your shopping trip was done.  You approached the large steel door to his office and knocked.  “Go away Penguin,” Law yelled from the other side of the door.  He sounded extremely annoyed.

“It’s me,” you yelled back.

“Oh…go away Y/N!”

You were shocked.  He had never yelled at you.  “No,” you replied, plopping down on the floor in front of the door, “I’m not leaving till you let me in or kill me.”

“I can arrange for that.”

“Fluffy hat wearing freak!”

“Fine. Room. Shambles”

You were now in his office, after the familiar blue light engulfed the area.  You pulled up a chair and sat down next to him. Neither of you spoke for a long time.  You sighed then spoke first, “Law, what’s wrong?  You aren’t acting like yourself.  And I don’t mean the grumpy captain version, but the sweet man I know and love.”

He stared at you.  He didn’t want to say anything out of fear of rejection.  He took his fluffy hat off and ran his hand through his hair, “am I too needed?”

You were dumbfounded, “no why?”

He looked down at the ground, “it’s just…I feel like I’m too clingy.  I can’t ever let you do stuff without me.  Penguin and Shachi have been saying that I’m clingy and I keep seeing what they mean and I…”. You interrupted his rant by smashing your lips onto his, just like he had so long ago.  When the two of you parted, you rested your forehead against his. “You’re not needy,” you declared, “no one hates that you come everywhere with me.  Frankly, we like you better that way.  You’re happier.  Ikkaku doesn't care if you come shopping with us.  She likes that you offer an honest opinion and help carry out bags.  I like having you around.  I like that you open up to me about everything.  With you, I never feel scared.  I always feel loved.”

In that moment, Law realized that he wasn’t actually needy.  He was just trying to hold onto the one person he knew he needed.

Please do not copy, modify, translate, or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated!

[btsficsandsuch]

hello! if your request is still open can i request one for yoongi or jin about clumsy reader like she often get hurt like walking into a wall, burnt her hand while cooking, etc? and eventually hurt herself really bad & jin/yoongi took care of reader? just very fluffy fics please🥺

thank you in advance! i've been on bed rest for a days now bcs i broke my ankle and been reading your fics to stay sane i hope you keep writing i love your works💗

Sorry this took so long. I hope you’re feeling better by now!

I Heart Yoongi

“I can’t believe this.”, you mumbled to yourself as you waited for the doctor to come back and wrap your arm in a cast. You were currently sitting in the emergency room with your best friend after tripping over your own shoe and falling down a flight of stairs breaking your arm. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call Yoongi? He’s going to be really upset when he finds out you called me and not him.”, your friend asked. Nodding your head you replied, “Yeah he has a busy day today and if he knows I’m here the he’ll skip his entire schedule to be here. He’s always taking care of me and I don’t want him to get in trouble for me.”

Your thoughts traveled back to all the times your boyfriend Yoongi had taken care of you after you clumsily hurt yourself. Just last Monday you burned your hand while making you both breakfast. Somehow you knocked the pan off of the stove and instead of letting it drop on the floor and loosing your pancakes you thought it would be a good idea to try and grab the pan but you instantly regretted it when you felt the stinging pain in your fingers. Yoongi had helped you put burn gel and bandages on your fingers and then even cleaned up the mess you had made before making another batch of pancakes.

Then on Wednesday you thought you’d surprise him by bringing him a drink and some snacks to his studio. You had a cute serving tray that you filled with a glass of water, some snacks that you put in these cute little glass bowls, you made a sandwich that you put on a plate in case he was extra hungry, you also gave him a glass of his favorite whiskey as a treat, and then even though it was cheesy you topped it off with a single rose that you put in a little glass vase. Looking back all that glass was probably a bad idea for someone as clumsy as you but at the time you were trying to be cute. Standing in front of his studio door you were trying to find a way to knock while balancing the heavy tray. You took your hand out from under the tray and knocked three times before quickly putting it back but it was too late. The vase started to sway and toppled over which made the glass of water fall and ruined the food and next thing you know the entire tray fell to the ground with a crash and glass shattering everywhere. In your panic you were trying to clean up hoping maybe Yoongi didn’t hear anything and managed to step on a piece of glass cutting your foot. Cursing yourself you went to walk to the bathroom to find a bandaid but you were stopped when you felt a hand around your wrist and you turned to see Yoongi. Silently he walked you to the bathroom and had you sit down on the tub while checking your foot to make sure there wasn’t any glass stuck before cleaning you up and placing a bandage over the cut. Then he cleaned up your mess even chuckling when he saw the rose. After sulking for a little you walked out into the kitchen just as he was finishing up and he walked over placing a sandwich down for you and bringing one over for himself so the two of you could sit and eat together.

Finally on Friday you had decided to do a deep clean of the apartment. You were down on your hands and knees scrubbing the inside of one of the kitchen cabinets when you heard Yoongi walk in the kitchen. Excitedly you tried to quickly stand up not realizing just how far in the cabinet you were and with a loud thud you hit the back of your head on the top of the cabinet. Yoongi quickly ran over and pulled you into his arms and rubbed the back of your head. He sat your down on the couch before returning to the kitchen to finish up the cleaning job and put everything back in its place all while checking on you every few minutes to make sure you didn’t have a serious head injury or anything.

That brings you to today. You were trying to bring a load of laundry down the stairs and tripped on your bunny slipper (Yoongi always told you that they were a death trap for someone like you but they were so cute) and you went tumbling down the stairs. When you came to a stop you checked to see if you had any injuries and that’s when you felt the sharp pain in your arm and called your friend and ended up in the emergency room.

Thankfully the doctor finally walked back in, “Alright Miss Y/N. What color cast did you want? We have blue, green, red, purple, pink, and just plain white?” “Umm purple I guess.”, you responded without any enthusiasm. The doctor must’ve done this a thousand times because it didn’t take long at all and before you know it he was giving you the discharge instructions, “Keep the cast dry. Try not to over exert yourself. You’ll want to follow up with your doctor in six week to see about removing the cast. Also you’re probably going to have some pain so I’m giving you a prescription for some pain medicine. You can get it filled today at the pharmacy on the second floor.” You nodded and took the paper work before carefully stepping down off the table.

You were walking down the hall following the directions to the pharmacy but when you turned the corner you saw a familiar mop of black hair spilling out of a beanie and a black jean jacket. Turning to your friend you whined, “You seriously called him? I told you not to.” Your friend put her hands up in defense, “He kept texting me asking why you weren’t responding to his texts. I ran out of believable lies.” You then remembered how you had left your phone at home in a panic. Yoongi noticed you walking down the hall and immediately ran up to you carefully wrapping you in a hug. His eyes went wide when he saw the light purple cast on your arm before he gently lifted it up to inspect it. “Thank you for taking care of her. I can take it from here.”, he smiled at your friend. You thanked her as well and watched her walk off towards the exit.

Yoongi took the discharge papers and started reading over everything that the doctor had told you. Not that he didn’t trust you but he wanted to make sure he also knew everything that needed to be done. Without even speaking he took your non broken arm in his hand and began walking you towards the pharmacy handing the clerk your prescription and then taking a seat next to you, “Why didn’t you call me Y/N? I’ve been worried sick all day. First you didn’t respond to any of my texts and then I find out from your friend that you’re at the emergency room.” “I knew you’d come here and I didn’t want that.”, you replied. He scoffed, “And that would be so bad? Sorry I want to be informed when something happens to you.” You were exhausted and in pain and we’re starting to feel guilty for not only not calling Yoongi but now he was missing important meetings and whatnot and he was also mad at you and it all became too much. You began to sniffle, “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to worry. I knew you had a busy day and I didn’t want you to get in trouble for leaving. Of course I want you here but I didn’t tell you for your sake. You’re always taking care of me because I’m so clumsy and I jus-“. Yoongi leaned over and placed a kiss on your lips to shut you up. Then he wiped away some of your left over tears, “I’m not mad Y/N. I just got scared that you were in the hospital and I didn’t know why. You are always going to be more important to me than any schedule and I’m always going to be here to take care of you.” Feeling a little better you smiled and reached over to squeeze his hand. “I swear Y/N, I’m gonna wrap you in bubble wrap and then put you in one of those giant bubble things. I don’t think my heart can handle a life time of this.”, he chuckled and you giggled along with him.

The clerk called your name and Yoongi walked you up to retrieve your medicine and the two of you made your way to his car. After stopping to get some food you were glad to finally be back home. Yoongi was Yoongi and didn’t let you get a minute alone. Carefully he helped you undress and then wrapped your cast in plastic so you could shower. Since he knew you too well and he knew being one arm down would only make you clumsier he stood by the shower and helped you shampoo and condition your hair and he made sure you didn’t slip. After the shower he helped you get dressed and gave you another dose of your pain medicine and after following his nighttime routine he got in bed next to you pulling you close so you both could get some sleep after and exhausting day.

The following morning you woke up and looked over at your nightstand finding your pain medicine, a chocolate chip muffin with some strawberries, a glass of orange juice, and a note,

“I had to go to the company to catch up on some things I missed yesterday. When you get up take another pain pill but you can’t take it on an empty stomach so make sure you eat. I’ll be home around 3pm. Please just rest and don’t get any more hurt. I love you.”

You smiled as you took a bite of the muffin and that’s when you looked down at your cast and noticed some writing. You chuckled thinking about how at some point last night Yoongi must’ve doodled on your cast. Taking another bite of the muffin you smiled staring down at the picture of two cats sitting next to each other. One with a cast on their arm and wearing a ‘I heart Yoongi’ shirt and the other wearing a beanie and a basketball jersey. Slowly you got out of bed and as carefully as possible you carried the rest of your breakfast out to the living room to wait for Yoongi to return so you could thank him again.

[ihave-atummyache]

Idk if u write poly fics but if u do,

2min × reader fluff pls 😔

i dont really write or read poly stuff bc im literally the most jealous person i know (see why i write jealous skz sm) and the thought of sharing anyone with somebody else makes me… angry

BUT I TRY JUST FOR U ANNONY

especially bc the thought of 2min is just so yes that i cant breathe sometimes!

idk the word count on this but its just a cute lil fluffy blurb(?)

coffee stains

You let out a deep sigh as you walk toward your bedroom. Neither of your boyfriends are supposed to be home, both are busy with their schedules, and you want nothing more than to be held and babied after the day you just had.

You know those days that just feel like it’s one thing after another after another? Today was like that for you. It started when you spilled your coffee on your white blouse before you even left the house. Then you had to rush and change, which caused you to miss your bus, which made you late for work. Everything else just went downhill from there.

You push the door to your bedroom open and you can’t stop the small smile that creeps onto your face when you lay your eyes on Seungmin in your bed.

“Baby? What are you doing here?” You speak up and he looks up from his phone when he notices you in the doorway.

“Didn’t want to see me? I’m hurt,” he teases and sits up when you walk around the bed and approach him.

“I always want to see you, Minnie. I just thought you had late schedules,” you speak out, your voice is obviously drained and he quickly picks up on it.

Seungmin’s arms wrap around you, pulling you down on top of him in the bed. You let out a squeak and a little chuckle. He is the type that hates when people have on outside clothes in the bed so the fact he doesn’t care right now really proves how well he knows you and knows exactly what you need.

“Mm. The weather turned bad so we had to reschedule,” he mumbles into the top of your head before placing a kiss in your hair. You let out a sigh and wrap your arms around his torso tighter.

You look over and on your side table, seeing your blouse from this morning. It’s folded up neatly and there’s no signs of coffee on it at all. You gasp and sit up quickly, grabbing the top and facing your boyfriend.

“You didn’t,” Your mouth falls agape and a shy smile covers Seungmin’s face, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your hips.

“I did. I saw it on the floor when I came home and figured you spilled on yourself before you went to work,” he replies and your smile on your face quickly fades, replaced by a quivering lip. Seungmin’s smile drops and he sits up, abruptly, your legs still on either side of his thighs.

“Baby?” The soft tone in his voice is enough to make the tears fall down your face and you drop your head into your hands, soft sobs leaving your mouth.

“Making her cry, again?” You hear Minho’s voice from the ensuite bathroom and turn to look at him. He’s towel drying his damp hair and has a pair of sweatpants with a tank top.

“I didn’t do anything! And don’t say again. If anyone makes her cry, it’s you,” Seungmin sticks his tongue out at Minho and you can’t stop the soft, pitiful chuckle that leaves your mouth, although the tears are still streaming.

Minho crosses the room and settles on the bed next to Seungmin. He rests his hand on your thigh, drawing shapes into the skin.

“What’s wrong, sweet girl?” He speaks up and you shake your head, wiping at your face. The more you wipe the tears, the more that fall from your eyes and its just hopeless.

“I just had such a bad day today,” your voice cracks as another sob racks through your chest and creeps out of your mouth. You lean over, wrapping your arms around Minho’s neck and burying your face in his shoulder.

He scoots closer to you since you’re still sitting on Seungmin’s lap, to try to make the angle more comfortable but you couldn’t care less. You already felt better by being able to get some tears out and being in the presence of your two amazing boyfriends.

You scoot off of Seungmin’s lap and squeeze your body between the two boys. You turn your back on Seungmin, grabbing his hand to wrap around your torso before wrapping your own arms around Minho’s waist.

“I just want to lay here for the rest of the night,” you mumble into Minho’s shirt. Minho places a hand in your hair, gently stroking it and Seungmin’s hand is rubbing your stomach gently before you feel Seungmin’s presence leave from behind you.

“Where are you going?” you peak up from Minho’s shirt and Seungmin’s back is to you, digging through your drawers. He pulls out one of his old t-shirts (that you stole) and a pair of your sleep shorts before making his way back over to you.

“If we’re going to lay here for the rest of the night, might as well get comfortable,” he offers you a soft smile and you unwrap yourself from Minho to sit up.

Before you can stand, Minho’s hands are under your sweater and pulling it over your head. He unclasps your bra and reaches his hand out to Seungmin. The younger hands him the t-shirt and Minho turns his attention back to you.

“Arms up,” he commands with a soft smile and you obey, lifting your arms in the air. Minho pulls the shirt over your head and down your torso before he’s unbuttoning your skirt as well.

“Lift your hips for me, baby,” his tone is so soft that you feel like you could start crying again. You lay back on the bed and lift your hips. He pulls your skirt down and your underwear before Seungmin is at your ankles and pulling the shorts up your legs. Once they’re settled on your hips, Seungmin scoots back down your body and places a gentle kiss to the inside of either one of your knees.

His hands pull your socks off of your feet and he places a kiss on the inside of either of your ankles as well before he stand again and heads to the bathroom. You hear him dig through a drawer before he’s back at your side and has a makeup wipe in his hand.

“May I?” His tone is just as soft as Minho’s. Instead of replying, you close your eyes and let your head loll towards him. He gently starts to wipe away your makeup from the day.

Your hand absentmindedly makes its way into Minho’s lap, resting against his inner thigh. His fingers trace gentle patterns up and down your arm, giving you chills but also relaxing you at the same time.

“You’re so beautiful and talented. We’re so proud of you and you’re doing so well,” Seungmin’s voice speaks up and your eyes slowly open. He leans down, his thumb stroking your cheek gently, and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You sniffle and let out a sigh.

“Do you think i’m pretty even when I’m all puffy from crying?” You ask and he immediately nods.

“Beautiful. I don’t think you can ever not be beautiful,” He confesses and you feel a blush creep up your neck.

“I agree. And you are doing so well, baby,” Minho’s voice sounds and you turn your head to face him.

“But I haven’t done anything,” your voice is quiet and a smile creeps onto Minho’s face.

“Even if you just breathed today, you’re doing well,” he smiles and you can’t help the soft laugh that leaves your mouth.

“Quoting yourself now?” you tease and Seungmin sits on the bed beside you, flipping the T.V on.

“He thinks he’s being philosophical,” Seungmin whispers to you, clearly loud enough for Minho to hear.

“You’re just jealous that I’m smarter than you,” Minho defends and Seungmin laughs.

“Yeah. Older and wiser. Much older,” he teases Minho. He reaches over and tussles Seungmin’s hair, obviously annoying him.

“Hey!” Seungmin complains but before they can continue their banter anymore, you catch them off guard. You let out a loud laugh. The first genuine laugh since you’ve been home.

“You two can turn around even the worst days,” you smile up at them and you notice the blush creeping up both of their ears, “Now put on a corny movie and lay with me,” you conclude and they both nod.

Minho scoots down and lets you lay your head on his chest while Seungmin picks some random movie. He also scoots down the bed and wraps an arm around you, spooning you. His fingers play with the hem of Minho’s shirt and Minho’s other hand is drawing shapes into Seungmin’s arm.

“I love you,” you breathe out, breaking the comfortable silence after a few minutes.

“I love you more,” they both reply in unison and you chuckle to yourself before letting your eyes fall closed, relaxing completely in your boyfriends’ arms.

[neteyamsoare]

My Sweet Tawtute.

༉‧₊˚. Featuring. Tsireya x Fem! Human! Reader.

༉‧₊˚. Anonymous Request. hihi !!! I was wondering if you could write a fluffy fic of tsireya x human!fem!reader? it’d be cute to see her with someone smaller than her considering how short she is herself :).

༉‧₊˚. Summary. Ever since she saw you, she knew that you were the one.

༉‧₊˚. General Tags. Fluff.

༉‧₊˚. Content Warnings. Aged up! Tsireya, Ao'nung and his friends are jerks.

༉‧₊˚. Word Count. 622.

༉‧₊˚. Index. Vrrteps — [demons], Exopack — [lightweight atmosphere filtration system developed from civilian rebreather technology that allows humans to survive on Pandora with a minimum amount of equipment.], and Tawtute — [sky person/people].

༉‧₊˚. Notes. Anon, I hope I did your request justice!! I hope you don't mind that I did it in hcs format. This is my first na'vi x human fic so I'm excited, I have a couple more reqs that have the dynamic, one for Tsu'tey and a few for Neteyam so I hope to get them out soon. Let me know what y'all think of this by either commenting or sending an anonymous ask!!

༉‧₊˚. Extra. Comments, likes, and reblogs are highly appreciated but not pressured. 🤍

༉‧₊˚. Starred Links. Navigation + Masterlist + Prompts + Taglist

𝜗𝜚 — When Tsireya first saw you when the Sullys' sought uturu in her home, she was intrigued by you, it was the first she saw a tawtute in person. Only she heard of them was that they were vrrteps and how they were bad people but as she looked at you admiring her home with a round thing on your face that she learned later that it’s an exopack that helps you breathe, she couldn’t help the feelings start brewing inside of her, to her you weren’t bad. 

𝜗𝜚 — It took some time for Jake to convince her parents to let you stay but the moment she heard them finally give in, she smiled knowing the fact that she’d be the one to teach you the way of the water.

𝜗𝜚 — One thing she absolutely loves is how short you are, you only went up to her chest but she loves that she can tower over you since she was short herself, and basically anyone towered over her so she was glad of the change. 

𝜗𝜚 — She loved how eager you were to learn the way of the water, sure it was harder for you but you never gave up, you kept trying. 

“Breathe from down here,” Tsireya says softly as she places one hand on your lower abdomen and the other on your chest after gaining permission to do so. “Breathe in,” you do as she says, breathing deeply. “And breathe out,” you exhale as you turn to look at her “[Name], your heartbeat is fast,” she looks into your eyes as your cheeks heat up. “Sorry.” “Try to focus.” you slightly nod and she smiles at how cute you were. 

𝜗𝜚 — One thing she learned about you is how fragile you were so she swore to protect you, always carried an extra exopack if the one you were wearing ever crack on the walks you and her took, a thing y’all pick up on doing to get to know each other. She’d protect you from her brother and his friends' bullying, making sure to let their father know of how Ao’nung was acting and always making sure he and his friends apologized to you. 

“You know you didn’t have to do that?” you voiced as you looked up at her earning a frown from her. “Do what, protect you?” you silently nod. “[Name], I won’t let people step all over you just because you’re different than them, I love my brother but he should know better.” You leaned more into her touch whispering a small ‘thank you’ and she smiles. “Now come on we have a date?... with an ilu.” you let out a chuckle as she leads you to the ocean. 

𝜗𝜚 — Of course, Ronal was not happy with you dating her daughter, all the Metkayinan women and she chose a tawtute for a girlfriend, she would never understand it but as she watches the two of you more, she sees what Tsireya sees in you and slowly accepts you in her family. 

𝜗𝜚 — Tonowari was more accepting of you cause he knew you had a strong heart and you didn’t look like you could hurt his daughter, hell you couldn’t hurt a bug. A smile would form on his face whenever he saw you two talking to each other with huge smiles on your faces, as long as Tsireya was happy, he was happy with your relationship. 

𝜗𝜚 — Tsireya knew you were the right one for her and why not seal the deal, sure you can’t mate like na’vis’ can but the two of you bonded in a different way, something so passionate that the two of you would treasure for the rest of your lives together.

🔖 @zanabelle99, @moonchildxoxx, @jakescumdump, @btsiguess-kpop, @sweetdayme4427, @ronalsskimwing, @shit-i-say-shit-i-think, @23victoria, @tsireqas, @kittenw, @violilaqrs, @valentinqee, @kiriswifejayden, @neteyamyawne, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @ducks118, @lilmackiee, @kasai-https, and @neo-novaa.

© neteyamsoare 2023. | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!

[hobvitr]

hii! i love all your work and it’s so great! can you make a fic about the reader and noir waking up in the morning and making breakfast?? :)

spider-noir x reader

gn!reader

genre/warnings: domestic fluff, established relationship, unrevised writing.

note: thank you for the request and the compliment, you're so sweet!! that was so cute to write, domestic fluff is my specialty :D recommended song: any of laufey, really. he's laufey coded.

you can feel the sun shining through the bedroom curtains, the blanket providing the perfect amount of warmth, or even better, the blanket and peter holding you in his sleep. sunday is the only day you wake up first than him, his patrolling starts a little bit later than the other days of the week and you get to see his peaceful sleeping form.

the softest expression lays on his face, his hair slightly disheveled, fluffy and falling above his forehead. it's one of the few times at the day he doesn't wear his glasses, and you can see the almost invisible freckles over his cheekbones.

you smile to yourself, as you look away from him to get up and make breakfast, but he keeps holding you, quietly mumbling words you can't even understand. "hey, handsome" you say as you turn around to hold his face.

"good morning, darling" peter replies, snuggling his head on the crook of your neck. "you're cuddly today, hm?" you giggle at the contact on your skin. "i believe so"

he leans back just enough to take a look at you, a smile adorning his lips. your hand goes up to caress his hair like you would do to a cat, and his eyes flushed shut at the touch.

"would you make breakfast with me?" you suggest, leaving the option to stay resting until he had to go out. "of course" he nods and you whisper a brief 'thank you' while smiling and giving the last caress at his hair.

you two make your way to the kitchen, discussing what is better to have for breakfast and both agreed that coffee, the leftover pie and grilled cheese was the winner of the day (both too tired to make something more elaborated).

you put some background music to lighten the moment and you two hum along the melody, while peter made the coffee and you prepared the sandwiches and take the pie from the refrigerator.

"i love spending mornings with you" he says, right hand now laying on the small of your back as you finished setting the table. you turn around to hold his middle, looking up at him adoringly "me too, that's why i love sundays"

your index finger fix the angle of his glasses, and he takes a chance to steal a peck on your lips. "i love you" his voice sounded like pure honey, a smile surging from you. "love you more" you state, earning a shake of his head. "not possible" he says playfully but he is serious about that. he genuinely loves you more than anything in his life and to beat that is nearly impossible.

each of you take a sit, side by side and start eating your breakfast, noir with his newspaper in hands and you with a unfinished book, enjoying the silence and the sunbeams engulfing you two.