#jamming all of the fluff tropes in actually

[auspicioustidings]

Kiss in Payment

Summary: Continuation of Services/Goods of Equivalent Value. You have opened a teashop near an off record military base and this is a bunch of snippets of your life there.

Words: 7.5k (HOW?!)

You hadn't slept in a real bed in so long and you were not prepared to get out of it. It smelled good and it was warm and you were tired right down to your bones from all the work of the past 6 months finally culminating in the busiest and happiest evening you had possibly ever had. Only half awake you nuzzled into the pillow with a happy little sigh of contented comfort.

"Feels better than sleeping in a chair doesn't it?"

At first you smiled sleepily and made a sound of agreement. And then your brain caught up and you shot up, eyes opening and darting around madly to find you were in a small, simple bedroom and Simon was sat in the chair in the corner, book in hand being dogeared and set on a little table now that you were awake.

You had seen most of his face before when he was drinking or eating so seeing the whole thing wasn't any more of a shock than the situation you had found yourself in. It was a little strange seeing the skin around his eyes cleaned and bright, no smudges of black. He looked softer like this you thought.

"I um, I don't um… ah ha I must have fallen asleep in the chair right? Must have just been so tired! You didn't have to move me, but thanks, it wouldn't have been good for me to sleep there right? Ha ha."

God you were adorable when you tried to lie. Heart was far too prominent on your sleeve for it to ever work. You were clearly flustered way more from trying to lie than from waking up in his bed and such a fondness settled in him knowing that you trusted him so easily. You trusted that he had carried you here to help, that he would never have done anything to hurt you. 

"Gaz would have carried you to your bed, but come to think of it there doesn't seem like any sort of bedroom in your shop."

Was he teasing to watch you scramble to try and explain yourself? Maybe a little, sue him.

"Oh right! It's in… the basement, it's in the basement."

You had a nanosecond of being relieved you had thought up a lie so quickly before being horrified at what a bad lie it was. What if they wanted to go into the non-existent basement now? But you had gotten away with it for now and you relaxed as Simon just nodded with an "Ah, of course, the basement". 

Maybe you were good at this whole lying thing!

When it was time to get up and get a ride back home to the shop Simon got the little tub of eye black to smear on. You took it from him and started dabbing it on with your fingers for him since he had let you sleep in his bed. 

"It's like finger painting" you grinned, sitting back to admire your work.

He took your hand in his before you could fully withdraw it, pressing a kiss to your knuckles that had the tips of your ears on fire. You gave him a wide eyed stare in question.

"Services/goods of equivalent value remember? This one was worth at least a few days of moving furniture."

You smiled shyly, thinking he meant applying the eye black for him. Simon let you think that, knowing himself that the payment he was taking was being able to press his lips to your skin.

-

You felt your lie was under attack when, after being driven back to your shop by Price with Soap in tow, they started talking about your basement as they helped you with all the dishes from the night before.

"Didn't you help with a lot of the building Soap? Going to have to give you extra observation training, missing a whole basement."

"Och Captain dinnae, ye know that training is the worst! I'll do better next time, ye'r spot on that it's unacceptable for me to miss something like that."

Oh the way you went dead silent while you scrubbed at a plate, clearly being eaten alive by guilt. It was cute up until you genuinely seemed in distress, and although it was fun to tease Johnny was thankful when Price laid off.

"Ah I'm only taking the piss Sergeant, easy thing to miss in an old place like this."

Some of the tension bled from your shoulders and oh if Soap didn't suddenly remember the little shy kiss you pressed to his cheek the night before. Such a sweet thing, genuinely getting upset at the idea he might have to do training because of a lie you told to protect yourself. As if him and Gaz didn't lie all the time to try and get one another in trouble just for the hell of it.

"Opening is in an hour aye? Think we could get a wee out of hours tea?" Soap asked.

You dried off your hands, smiling brightly now. Making tea always made you forget all your worries and you were wildly delighted that confessed coffee person Soap was the one asking. You went straight to work, grabbing and typing off your apron and throwing your hair up. 

Price and Soap shared a conspiring look as they watched you work. They had gotten good at speaking without words. Right now their look was saying "isn't she just the loveliest thing you ever saw? I think I might scream if she does one more cute thing."

With the tea steeping you sighed in contentment, jumping a little when Price's hand found the small of your back. You hadn't even realised he was so close, for such a big man he was so light on his feet! He tapped a finger to his cheek.

"Think helping wash one load of dishes works as equivalent value."

You popped onto your tip toes and planted a soft peck to his cheek and as Soap bounded forward for the same Price shoved him away with a grin.

"Got payment in advance last night if I recall Soap, can't have our favourite girl overpaying."

-

Price and Soap left just as you officially opened for the day, but to your soft delight already Horangi and Farah were waiting outside for the sign to be flipped. They were bundled up, must have walked over. Now that you knew the distance from here to the base it made you swell with pride to know they had made the trip on foot. 

"Two of ye are here awful early naw?"

"Is there a problem with that MacTavish?" Horangi asked with a smirk, suspecting that the problem was Soap was about to leave you alone with him and Farah.

He had thought it would only be him, everyone else using their morning to work out and get fed. Obviously Farah had the same idea though, both of them feeling a sense of challenge from the other. He was sure you would like learning to make his Korean sweets over her Urzik ones. 

"Course naw, always happy tae see paying customers for my girl here" he responded, clearly proud of himself for managing to find a subtle way to tell Horangi and Farah to back off because you were his.

Farah raised an eyebrow at Price when he smirked at Soap's little claim and his lip twitched slightly. The exchange was barely noticeable and yet the unspoken conversation had went something like this:

"Really John? She's a little young for you is she not?"

"Really Farah, what would Alex say?"

"Me and Alex have always been very good at sharing, ask Gaz."

"Don't remember you being this much of a brat Karim."

Farah thought it was a shame you had been subject to all these boorish men for so long. Soft, sweet thing like you deserved some soft and sweet companionship. She had hoped that she could get to know you while teaching you how to make the halva she had fed you bites of last night any time you had paused in your hectic running about to pour her tea.

You had been very complimentary of the simple sweet, wanting to know all about the cultural history of it. Farah was no stranger to the uncomfortable looks she got when she would pour her heart out about her passion for her home country. She had half expected you to nod politely and excuse yourself. Only you hadn't, you had been genuinely and unabashedly happy at how passionate she was about her home, eyes sparkling with interest as you made her promise that she'd visit again and tell you more.

Of course Hong-jin would be equally as fond of you, she had spied how he had made you try a bite of bukkumi and how he had cried laughing when it was chewier than you expected and you had bitten your tongue. That giant beside him had acted as if you were mortally wounded until you had calmed him down and Farah was observant if nothing else, she had seen how your easy way with the larger man had Hong-jin simmering with fondness. 

Price and Soap realised they couldn't very well stay without it being obvious they were only doing so to stop Farah and Horangi from being left to work their charms on you, so with a grumble they departed.

You were honestly a little nervous about your first real customers after opening day, but you thought you did a great job of hiding it and welcoming them inside.

Farah and Horangi could both tell you were nervous, it was glaringly obvious, so an unspoken pact was made that they would only compete with each other in ways that you wouldn't notice so wouldn't make you anxious.

An hour later and you were so delighted that they had been kind enough and patient enough to teach you how to make the sweets they had bought the night before, oblivious to the amount of sabotage and subterfuge in the silent war between your two customers. 

Still they did eventually have to admit defeat, they were due in meetings and couldn't stay forever. You squeaked and shook your head rapidly when they tried to pay for their drinks.

"Oh no please, you were both so wonderful to have shared your recipes with me! Think of this as payment for that."

"I already said I would teach you did I not? Of course I have to pay properly for the tea you made me."

“It would be very rude not to, I can pay for both of our teas.”

“No no, I can pay for both. After all you are technically a guest with the 141 aren't you?”

“As are you.”

“Oh I would say more a long distance member. Actually since this is so near the 141 base and you've been so good to the team, I'd say that makes you basically an honorary member!”

“Oh! That's such an honour for you to say Farah, it's more that the team has been good to me though” you explained in a rush, a pretty flush of colour dusting your cheeks.

“Ah but you also have adopted the little cat with us, so it makes you more a member of Kortac than anything else.”

“I think Herzogin adopted me, she just came in one day and decided to make herself at home and I couldn't say no” you said, now feeling so flustered there must be steam coming out of your ears.

There was something so touching about what they were saying even if it was light hearted and meant more as a joke you thought. Even the thought of somehow being a part of their lives, some little silly civilian branch of their teams, made your hummingbird heart flutter.

It was also very sweet how they both wanted to cover each others bill even though you really could not let them go unrewarded for teaching you their recipes. They must be quite close these two teams. Definitely not two people who had only properly met last night and were now locked in a bitter rivalry over you or anything.

“But regardless I need to repay you somehow for the lessons! Don't make me start pulling out a contract again” you laughed.

When they asked you explained about your hastily written contract with Soap, how it had kept expanding after that. You even showed them the copy as messy as it was.

“I, the undersigned, agree that I will pay in full Mr John MacTavish* for works carried out either in monetary value or services/goods of equivalent value**** as soon as I have the means to do so. 

*& Mr Rudolpho Parra**

**and any members of the Los Vaqueros team*** 

***who are to be superceded in priority by any members of TF141

****as defined in value by the party being reimbursed”

It didn't feel much like a contract anymore what with Simon's messy scrawl and the massive pen stroke from when Soap had shoved Rudy as he was trying to add his addendum. But it always made you smile to look at.

You thought your heart might burst when they both very reverently take turns adding their own addendums on.

“I, the undersigned, agree that I will pay in full Mr John MacTavish* for works carried out either in monetary value or services/goods of equivalent value**** as soon as I have the means to do so.******

*& Mr Rudolpho Parra**

**along with any members of the Los Vaqueros team*** 

***who are to be superceded in priority by any members of TF141*****

****as defined in value by the party being reimbursed

*****including Farah Karim and Alex Keller who shall be deemed members TF141 for the purposes of this contract.******

*****Any works or services carried out by members of Kortac PMC (inclusive of Herzogin) are to be subject to the same terms of payment as above.”

After that they both paid in full for all the tea meaning you were left blustering about the double payment. And when before they left they pressed a kiss to your cheek, sandwiching you between them for a moment, you were sure you have melted right into the floor.

“That's your debt settled for the recipe” Farah teased as her and Horangi left.

–

You spent the day warmed by the smattering of visitors. Some drove out, some made the trip on foot, Gaz stopped by in the middle of his run and the sight of him shirtless and sweaty made you scald yourself when you accidentally overpoured and splashed hot tea over your hand.

“Ouch luv, c'mere and let me see” he said, immediately taking your hand delicately in both of his strong ones to do a quick inspection and then leading you over to the sink to run it under cold water.

“It's not that bad” you hissed as the water hit, it was freezing and you were really just trying to get out of having to hold it there for 10 minutes.

“Hush, don't know how deep it's went so need to make sure it cools down properly.”

You didn't feel like you were cooling down with his naked torso right there beside you, one hand still holding yours and the other resting absentmindedly on your waist. All of these customers of yours really would be the death of you.

You huffed a little and stuck your tongue out at him, knowing he was right but not liking it one bit. He laughed at you and gave you a light little headbutt into your hair, the easy affection making you smile despite yourself. You smiling made him smile and it was as always like looking at the sun when this man smiled. So much so you did not even hear the door go until you were crowded by another body, the new arrival slotting against your other side in a mirror of Gaz and sighing.

“What happened here then princess?” 

Gaz narrowed his eyes at Alex albeit playfully at the pet name, feeling his pinky brush again his hand now also settling in on you.

“Ah just clumsy! Not a very good omen to be spilling tea on the second day huh?”

“You know Ghost and Soap once got so drunk they passed out on the sofa and we found them all tangled up the next morning, said they must have moved in their sleep.”

You nearly choked on your own saliva at that, blinking up at Alex who was only grinning back at you.

“There now, we've both spilled tea, so I can take all the bad omens off of you.”

Goddamnit, Kyle always forgot how stupidly handsome and charming Keller was. Even being right in your space shirtless, having been meticulous in his work out this morning to ensure his body would look just right to get you flustered, you weren't even looking at him anymore. Too busy giving a soft smile to the American playboy. Well if you can't beat them…

You jumped when you felt Kyle's breath right at your ear. He had leaned over a little to join the conversation but it meant he was even closer than before and it was suddenly very, very warm. 

“Just to make sure though, Keller here will deny it ever happened but he once kissed a man right in front of his girlfriend! Right scandalous if you ask me. How's that for tea?”

“i-in front of your girlfriend?!” you asked, somewhat in shock that this man who had been nothing but sweet to you was a cheater. 

“As I recall, my girlfriend was the one that put in the request” he laughed, seeing your look of suspicion and softening. “I promise she was happy about it princess, we've always been open to sharing.”

Him and Gaz shared a look then, both obviously noticing that you were probably about to faint from the no doubt tame (scandalous in your head) images the idea of sharing was conjuring. While it was very endearing the way you reacted, the thump thump thumping of your heart almost perceptible, they couldn't find it within themselves to tease you more. Sweet little thing like you deserved better.

“Come on luv, let's get it dried off and wrapped up.”

Kyle lifted your hand away from the cold water and you realised they had completely distracted you from the discomfort. You wondered if it had been on purpose as he took you over to one of the stools and made you sit while Alex fished out the first aid box.

“Oh, how did you know where that was?”

“Military princess, reckon about everyone scoped out the exits, fire extinguisher and first aid kit last night. Laswell had me order some safety signs for express delivery, should arrive today actually.”

“Oh I didn't even think! How much did it cost? I’ll pay you for them straight away.”

Kyle sighed as he wrapped your hand, knowing exactly what was about to happen and not able to think of one reason to stop it. Besides, it's not like he didn't think you and Alex looked cute together and he didn't even bother to hide his grin of disbelief at how outrageous Keller was when he caressed your face.

“Farah said we could get a kiss in payment as long as it was an equivalent value. Would a kiss be OK princess?”

You didn't really remember nodding even though you had, but you were pretty sure you'd remember Alex Keller pressing a heart achingly soft kiss to your lips as long as you lived. You felt like your brain was flowing with syrup when he laughed lightly and fondly after kissing you, like he was happy he got to do it. 

“Medical fees as well luv, yeah?”

And then you were nodding and Kyle Garrick was kissing you while Alex still had one hand on your cheek and everything was a little too hot and overwhelming. 

Thankfully both men were merciful and didn't mention it when you blinked back into consciousness from fainting onto the counter. If Gaz had had to scream into Alex's shoulder because of how adorable he found it, well they didn't mention that either.

–

You were in trouble now. Kate Laswell was giving you a look that you were sure meant she could read your mind. 

“You're not in trouble, but you need to tell me the truth. Why were you staying at the base last night?”

Of course Laswell knew, she knew everything about everyone. You were the kind of soft she knew it was easy for hard soldiers to love, but if she thought for a second that one of the 141 had taken you to bed last night she was inclined to use them for shooting practice. You had been dead on your feet after opening day, not in any fit state for clandestine meetings.

Plus she felt protective over you, maybe a little possessive. You reminded her fiercely of her wife and she had already called her last night to tell her about you, suggesting they make the time to visit together when work was less hectic for her.

“Oh I-” you paused, desperately hoping you were not going to get anyone into trouble but itching to tell this woman the truth, “they found me asleep in one of the chairs so instead of waking me they let me use one of the beds. It was my fault for falling asleep where I did! They were just being kind.”

“Why didn’t the move you to your own bed?” Kate asked with a long suffering sigh. It would be just like the 141 to jump to the extreme option.

“It's um, they didn't know where it was.”

Kate had scoped out the place last night without crossing a line into snooping, but she had thought the door next to the stove would be a bedroom. The boys would have known that though, Price said Riley and MacTavish had helped a lot with construction and moving furniture. So either she was really going to have to leather them for taking you back to base when your bed was right there, or the room was a storage space.

“And where is that?”

“Hm?”

“Where do you sleep?”

“Oh hang on, I'll get you another cup!”

Kate watched you stumble away with the poor excuse of getting the pot to pour another cup of tea for her. Her teacup was still half full. And she was indeed going to have to skin the 141 alive. How did it take them so long to figure out that you didn’t have a proper place to sleep? The quiet fury she felt at thinking how long you had been curling up on one of the chairs surprised her for only a moment before she let it settle in. Kate Laswell had always been very good at quickly identifying who she considered her people and her knack of it hadn’t let her down yet. 

“How long have you been sleeping here?”

You froze as you were reaching for the teapot. 

“I-i the basement? Since I got the place.”

Kate was well aware there was not a basement, not unless there was a magical hidden hatch to it. Even if she hadn’t been 99% certain, the fact that you were the worst liar she had ever encountered and the look of alarm she saw on Alejandro’s face as he slid through the door gave her assurance she was right. The question at this point was how to gentle you into telling her what was going on and why you didn’t have somewhere to sleep. She wished her wife were here, between the two of them she was more the people person. 

“Try again cariño, there is no basement in this building.”

Your ruse was rapidly falling apart with Alejandro now here as well. You had been so sure you had gotten away with it as well, and you were just stuck to the spot gaping trying to get your brain to come up with some sort of excuse. 

“Well um, I know I said basement but I- the thing is maybe it’s just a plan to have a basement. Right. That’s what I meant, that I’m going to put in a basement and have a bed there. Yeah. And that means that right now I don’t have one. A basement I mean, or uh, yeah a bed. But it’s totally fine, that chair by the fire is super comfortable and it’s not that bad for my back and Herzogin likes being able to curl in my lap anyway and actually I really like it because the blanket would be a little too small if I was all stretched out anyway and-”

Alejandro had known you long enough to see when your brain was absolutely catching fire. It was one of the things he loved because he knew he was always able to calm you down and it made him feel overwhelmingly content whenever he did. Right now though he at least wished your brain was catching fire over something small like offering him a new type of tea or short circuiting when Rudy had poured water over himself to cool down in the summer (Ale had nearly throttled him, little shit had known what he was doing) and not over something that made him want to smuggle you home to Mexico and make sure you never wanted for anything ever again. 

He could put aside his own feelings right now though, walking over and enveloping you in a warm hug, squeezing just the right amount to make your words trail off and your brain slow down now that it felt safe and comfortable. You clung to him almost instantly, burying your head in his chest and fighting tears. You were so embarrassed to be caught, it made you feel like you couldn’t look after yourself at all.

It wasn’t that you had meant for it to all work out this way, but you were chasing a dream and you sort of came second to that. Last night you had finally made it and it had been better than you ever dared hope, it had been beyond perfect. You hadn’t even thought to include your own comfort in that dream of yours, and now when you really thought about how you had been living it all caught up and made you feel awful and exhausted. 

“There come on now, it’s ok” Alejandro said softly, leaning a cheek against your hair and sharing a look with Kate, “we’re going to make sure you’re looked after ok? Just until we can sort something a little more permanent out for you.”

“I couldn’t, I don’t… I just need a little time to save up and I can get stuff” you sniffled, doing your best to keep it together.

You were fully out of money, last night had made a small fortune but that needed to go towards overdue bills and restocking. It was enough that you would be in the clear at least, and then you could actually start saving if you managed to make any profit. You wanted to say you could survive a few more cold nights, but now that it had finally hit you, that you had spent a night in a warm, cosy bed, you didn’t know that you could. 

Alejandro just hushed soothingly at you, petting your hair and letting you cry it out. He knew for a fact Kate was taking advantage of knowing he would not do anything right now that was not solely with the purpose of your comfort in mind, he could see her typing away on her phone and glancing at him as if to say “I’m going to make sure she’s looked after, but it’s nice that you can distract her while I do that I suppose.”

Would he say he was happy when Nikolai showed up to whisk you off to a B&B for the night? Mixed feelings really. He was happy that you would spend the night safe and warm nearby. He was furious it wasn’t going to be with him. And then that vanished when he melted fully to a puddle as you darted quickly back after locking up and saying goodbye to them to nervously press a kiss to his cheek.

“It’s in the contract that I should repay you for things. I hope this works to repay you for being so kind to me.”

If Kate’s snort of amusement at his scream into his hands after you had left was anything to go by, it worked far too well.

–

“We only have a double room left, will that be ok sir?”

Nikolai had taken one look at you all cried out and sniffling outside that tea shop and decided there and then that he was going to feed you the largest meal of your life and then tuck you into a nice, warm bed and let you sleep for as long as you wanted. If he had known when he got the message from Price about the tea shop opening that you were the little thing behind the Captain and Gaz calling in all their favours he would have told the general he was flying to a critical mission to walk so he could attend. 

As it was he had been on his way to visit and apologise for not making it when he had gotten the message from Kate that she was giving him a new assignment. He didn’t know the full background, he did know that the 141 was in big trouble whatever had happened. Not his problem, he was focused on you. 

He had teased that he was going to fly you out of there at first and you had about passed away on the spot before he scrambled to tell you he was joking. The B&B wasn’t too far, it was in the nearest little village an hours walk from the teashop in the opposite direction of the base. You told him you were ok to walk and he had scooped you onto his back anyway, let you wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder as you chatted away about anything and everything.

Your attempts at learning some Russian was adorable, trying to wrap your tongue around the words he would give you before even asking what they meant (he had gotten you to say ‘I am very cute’ perfectly and then told you it meant ‘thank you’, so delighted when you said it frequently that it overrode the guilt at being so duplicitous about it. He’d tell you one day. Maybe).  

“Of course, double is perfect.”

Not that you would protest given that you were fast asleep on his back now, the weight of your head on his shoulder comforting. You deserved the rest he imagined, he had gotten pictures from Price of the opening. It wasn’t easy to have so many big personalities in one place, much less have them all vying for your attention. He took great glee knowing that every single one would be chewing glass when they found out he had you all to himself right now.

You woke up when you were put down onto the bed, blearily blinking as you tried to work out your new surroundings. It was a cosy little room, the bed you were on was like a marshmallow with the perfect firm to squishy ratio and Nikolai who you had come to like very much in the last hour was laying out a frankly disgusting amount of room service onto the little table, so much of it that you could see some had already needed to be put on the vanity.

It was wonderful to exist in a sleepy, happy haze as you ate your weight in comforting pub food, soaked in the bath he had run for you and then fell into bed. Only there was only one bed. And he was already settling himself in the armchair and putting on reading glasses that made him look adorable to start one of the little romcoms from the tiny library in the foyer. In truth Nikolai was more inclined to share, but he knew that even the act of asking you would put pressure on you. He knew a people pleaser when he saw one. 

“...the bed is big enough for you as well. Would it be ok if we shared?”

Well he hadn’t expected you to be the one asking him and it took him by surprise enough that he put down his book and just blinked at you for a moment, brain short circuiting and answering in Russian instead with a heartfelt speech about how he did not want you to feel you had to offer and how he would love to hold you if you’d let him because you seemed like you should always be held and if he got to be the one to do that for only one night he would be so grateful for the trust you had given him.

You had no clue what this handsome man was saying, but it sounded nice. You hoped you hadn’t overstepped.

“I’m sorry I didn’t understand. I… have a bit of a contract with the 141. It’s for services and goods of equivalent value when they help me out. And you’ve helped me out a lot tonight so I know sharing the bed isn’t exactly, well I mean it’s really your bed, so I should be the one in the chair really, so it’s not me repaying you at all to share it” you rambled, very sleepy from the abundance of food and the warm bath.

“Oh lapposhychka, it is no wonder I got such warm messages from the Captain” Nikolai sighed, seeing how a light blush dusted across your nose when you got yourself worked up about a problem. “I do not want you to make yourself uncomfortable because you think to repay me with it.”

You brought the blankets right up to the bridge of your nose to hide your little shy smile, feeling somehow like you could tell him the truth that you could never say out loud to anyone else.

“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I was the one who wrote it down to be vague just incase… people wanted to be creative with interpretation.”

Nikolai took a moment to understand and then laughed so loudly that you could hear the neighbours laughing at his boisterous laugh. He was happy to slide into bed beside you then and you were using his chest as a pillow and listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. When you tried to thank him in Russian he only laughed lightly and hugged you as you drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

–

“Open bonnie.”

You automatically opened your mouth to let Soap feed you another bite of pastry, eyes not leaving the accounts you were pouring over. Johnny wasn’t complaining at how concentrated you were, not when it meant you had let yourself be hand fed by him after being manoeuvred into Simon’s lap. It was almost enough to make up for his plans being ruined to offer you his bedroom after Kate and Alejandro (and then very swiftly via Rudy’s big mouth everyone) had found out about your sleeping arrangements. 

You had been back to open the next morning and were going over what it would cost to stay in the B&B and build an extension versus the cost of just renting or getting a mortgage on a place in the village. Him and Simon had shared several looks to the tune of “we are going to need to get it into her pretty head somehow that we can pay for everything and actually wouldn’t it be easier for her to always have access to everything she needed if she married one of us?” and then getting into an argument about who that should be. 

It was idyllic and wonderful and then of course Simon had to be Simon and have an admirer who was jealousy pawing at the beautiful thing in his lap.

“Oh! Ah Herzogin, I’m so sorry, I’ve taken your space haven’t I?” you said with a little scritch behind her ears as you stood and stretched. 

Immediately the cat was up in Simon’s lap and purring aggressively, making biscuits into his thigh. The look between him and Johnny then was more to the tune of:

“Jesus Si dae ye have tae be such a bloody cat magnet?”

“Well what do you want me to do Johnny? Shove König’s cat onto the floor?”

“Wait… wait we need tae steal König’s cat.”

“I’m listening.”

“Well if we want tae have her pick us…”

The unspoken conversation did not make it much further because you were asking if they wanted a drink. Johnny ordered an Irish coffee, Simon ordered an earl grey tea with steamed milk, vanilla and a touch of honey. 

“Oh, you mean a L-” you started, Simon looking at you like he may commit homicide if you said the words ‘London Fog’ to refer to his drink order. 

“Llllllarge earl grey tea with steamed milk, vanilla and a touch of honey,” you finally said, desperately improvising. 

“A large, yes sweetheart” he said with a grin that nearly knocked you unconscious anytime you saw it on his unmasked face. “Although I’ll take payment for looking after the cat just now.”

While one hand was scritching at said cat he used the other to grab your waist and pull you closer, tilting his head up and smirking. Honestly he had mostly expected you to blush brightly and if he was very lucky kiss his cheek, so when you leaned down and pressed your lips to his beautifully gently the scariest solider the SAS had ever seen was reduced to blushing brightly himself.

Soap was only too eager to remind you of his services of feeding you bites of food so you wouldn’t simply waste away while you were working and your bravery only stretched so far to give him a quick peck before fleeing to the kitchen absolutely ablaze to make the coffee and London Fogarge earl grey tea with steamed milk, vanilla and a touch of honey.

–

It had been less of a fight than you thought for you to stay in the shop. Price had insisted they get you an air mattress and a proper duvet at least, but they had all been respectful of your wishes even if not happy about it when you had said you really would be ok. They were already doing so much now that you had decided to build an extension instead of renting or buying somewhere else (you loved this place so much, you didn’t want to be so far away). Already they were grumbling about contractors and how they’d do a bad job so you may as well let them do it and honestly? A little part of you felt like this was as much their baby as it was yours, so you were warmed that they wanted to help.

And you were also warmed by how they had listened. They hadn’t overruled you like you were worried they might, they had just made sure that you were safe and as comfortable as possible. Mind you their idea of safe was overkill (the locks on the door they had installed in record time were something out of a sci-fi movie and more often than not the past few weeks you had not been alone on that air mattress in the shop), but you still felt so listened to and respected in your own right.

This was the first evening in the last 5 you had spent just you and Herzogin. Well just you since she had slinked out to go cause mischief somewhere no doubt. You were honestly a little relieved when there was a knock at the door, feeling a little strange being alone now as you got up, jumped through hoops to unlock all the security protocols and opened the door.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

You did not know the American on your doorstep in the torn skull balaclava, but you could see he had been beaten badly. 

“Who did this to you?” was spilling out of you as you reached out your arms to him to try to take some of his weight since he was slumped against the doorway.

“If I told you that I’d have to kill you sweetheart” he said, somehow managing to sound condescending even though he was hissing the words through gritted teeth.

It was probably a strange thing to think, but he reminded you of Simon. Something about the way he held himself, the way he handled this situation. The pet name. Maybe it was some transferred fondness that had you taking as much of his weight as you could handle and stumbling inside with him, dropping him on the sofa (a new addition thanks to Nik) and rushing over to get the first aid box that thankfully had been upgraded to a full military grade mini medic bay by Kate and Farah. 

“I mean you could try, but you’re not looking so hot” you said, bringing the kit over and kneeling by the sofa to try and figure out the worst of the damage.

“Ouch sweetheart, never had anyone tell me I don’t look hot on a first date.”

Oh this man was ridiculous, but at least if he was flirting he was probably not dying. 

“What can I say, high standards.”

You felt his eyes scrutinising you as you checked him over. You had trained in first aid before you had even bought this place, knowing that it would be legally required but also that morally you could not have people in your premises without knowing you could look after them. Not that your customers generally needed looking after. Even the ancient book club that had started coming in from the village on Sunday afternoons were tough as old nails.

“You’ve not called anyone.”

“Well I’m assuming you don’t want an ambulance involved, and I wanted to at least be able to say how bad you were before calling someone else.”

“Who are you gonna call?”

“Ghostbusters.”

He laughed and you hissed at him to stop when it clearly put him in more pain to do so. Poor Nik had been so proud when he had arrived with this sofa, had really been gloating to everyone about how you had reacted by launching yourself at him in a hug, and the chances of the blood stains ever coming out were very slim. 

“And if I asked you not to?”

You looked at his eyes to find them staring back at you, almost in challenge. This guy sure was a piece of work, but you really wanted him to be ok. As you tried to pack the stab wound (you thought at least) with gauze, you mused that maybe this time somebody might owe you and not the other way around. 

“Then I’d wait until you passed out and then call him when you couldn’t say no if I asked.”

“Good girl.”

Oh. Oh. That was not something you were going to be exploring while your hands were covered in blood. You just levelled him with a glare that very much screamed ‘behave yourself’ and grabbed your phone to call Simon. He answered on the second ring.

–

You know when you really sat down to reflect, your life had gotten so strange. Fake dating König because some wildly charming man called Graves had called you “little darlin’” and that was apparently a security threat, having to smack Soap with one of those squeaky toy hammers any time he scratched at his stitches after coming back fully banged up from a mission, having to referee a tricycle race between Ale and Valeria (your first time meeting her had been wild in and of itself), mediating the all out war between the book club made up of 80+ year olds and the 141. 

One thing you could say for sure though when Price took your blind fold off to reveal the brand new extension finished with the absolute cosiest living space you could ever have wanted is that you were incredibly happy. It was a strange family that you found yourself in, but with that now almost illegible from all the additions contract proudly on the wall of your teashop, you found that it suited you just fine.

#mhairiwrites #fanfic #cod #cod au #tf 141 x reader #cod x reader #fluff #everyone x reader #I am too lazy to tag all the relationships because it would take FOREVER #keegan x reader #nikolai x reader #jamming all of the fluff tropes in actually #as a treat to myself

[nonstoplover]

all of my heart ~ carlos sainz (cs55)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: carlos sainz jr. x fem!reader

summary: a short story of carlos becoming a father

words: 2K

warnings: one tiny swear word in spanish ig, otherwise nothing, just fluff fluff fluff and dad!carlos which deserves its own warning tbh

a/n: i know you love the dad!driver trope, @vetteltea, which is why i dedicate this blurb to you (though i think you'd maybe prefer this to be with seb now that i think about it), as a thank you for all the amazing fanfic you provide this fandom with. i love you so much, you're so talented, so inspiring, and i truly wish to be like you. <33

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

Carlos is still a little out of breath when he hears it for the first time.

A delayed red-eye flight and an excruciating traffic jam caused him to almost miss this appointment. The first he finally has the chance to attend – having had a race when the initial one happened –, and he almost missed it.

As a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face, obvious sign of how only seconds ago he was still running up the stairs of the hospital, a smile forms on his lips. Looking at her, lying down, the screen beside the bed showing a picture of their baby.

Well, at least they say it's that. For the love of God, Carlos can't see anything on it. He still nods along with a wide smile when the nurse asks him if he sees it. The focus shouldn't be on him and whether he can see it or not, but on his girlfriend.

God, this woman. He hasn't seen her in over a month now. And this is how they meet again: when they meet the little one officially as well, though on a screen only. Hell, the last time he saw her, they had no clue of this wonderful piece of news. From watching her wave with a smile through the glass at the airport, before he turned a corner towards his flight and disappeared, fast forward to now, when he catches sight of her lying form, just as gorgeous as ever, if not more, with a baby growing inside her. A creation by him and her.

They're gonna have a child, Carlos thinks, and as if it's the first time he realises this, his heart stops for a second. In happiness, in awe, in fear.

Because as the image on the screen gets displayed, and Carlos gets lost in-between words like embryo and transvaginal scan, suddenly the doctor announces that the baby indeed has a heartbeat, listen, you can hear it. And this one sentence, followed by the almost inaudible little thuds, is enough to make everything feel real.

Of course, he already knew what the positive pregnancy test meant, the one she showed him first on a FaceTime call, then sent as a separate picture later. But this, hearing that tiny heartbeat, it made everything even more real. They had actual proof now of what is going to happen in the near future. It might not have been planned, but it doesn't make it any less sweeter.

With his heart beating away in a rapid rhythm, he feels his facial muscles pull as his lips curve into a smile, so wide that it even showcases his pearly white teeth.

When he sees her the next time, the first thing Carlos does is place his palm against her tummy. The bump is already visible – well not in the hoodie she's currently wearing, but it's there underneath, he knows –, and he's been dreaming about holding it for many, many days now.

She lets out a giggle, throwing her head back a little, having expected a kiss upon her arrival, not this. Carlos practically doesn't pay her any attention, his sole focus is on talking with his baby.

Later on in the car she inquires jokingly the reason behind why she's not the first to be greeted by him, and he explains with a serious tone why that's the priority. "You get all this time to speak to her and bond with her, and she's already inside you which is a bonus, but she has to know exactly who her father is."

"She, huh?" she raises a teasing eyebrow, and he simply smiles, shrugging in a nonchalant way.

"I can feel it in my bones."

He looks so self-assured that she can't help but lean in and press her lips against his cheek. She still can't believe she'll get to have a kid with this man.

Doubt starts rising in his mind when they reach the third trimester. The date underlined in bright red in his calendar creeping closer and closer, making him more self-conscious and unsure than he's ever felt.

What if he won't be a good father? What if his job gets in the way of his child really feeling close to him? What is he supposed to do anyway? He already has no idea what he's doing in this whole pregnancy, safe to say, how is it going to be when he finally gets to hold the baby as well?

He's read multiple long articles, spending every flight he's had to take nose deep in his phone, until his eyes hurt and words started to lose their meaning. He wants to be the best father he can be.

This even includes several calls to his parents, asking for advice from them as well, trusting and valuing their words far more than the ones he can find online. He knows that his parents proved already that their methods work, they've been good parents to him and his siblings.

Still, the only thing that seems to reassure him is that they – the baby and him – have her. His superwoman of a girlfriend, who simply seems like she was actually born to do this, to be a mother, taking every obstacle in their way with a cheerful step and a smile reaching from ear to ear on her face.

How did he deserve her?

As he's gritting his teeth to stop himself from letting out a groan while the pain he's feeling in his hand spreads – mierda, this woman is strong – he repeats one sentence as a mantra. Only to keep him from worrying his heart out for the love of his life, who's currently letting out loud gasps and occasional curses, her eyes teary and her cheeks red from the strain of pushing and pushing and pushing.

I hope the baby looks like her.

Why is this so important to him? He has no idea. He doesn't even know why the thought popped into his mind in the first place. He just knows he has to keep on repeating it to divert his mind, otherwise he'll lose his sanity.

Simply, he has to focus on picturing a baby with her eyes, her hair colour, the elegant line of her nose, the curve of her lips, her rosy cheeks. Every inch of their baby looking like a mini-her. Because what would be better than looking at his girlfriend and marvel at her beauty? Of course, looking at her and his daughter, and seeing the exact same beauty? Sure, it would be nice to have a tiny detail of him in their baby girl somewhere, just so that it would be obvious to the whole wide world that this is his baby, that the woman giving birth to her now is his woman. Maybe the exact copy of his eye colour? Or his locks of hair, silky and thick? It doesn't matter. Honestly, who cares about how she looks, he will love her no matter what. With his whole heart, with more love, a deeper connection than he's ever felt before.

Minutes pass, then some more, until it feels like an eternity has gone by since they arrived to the hospital. But then he hears it – crying. The unmistakable baby sound, entering the haze of his mind like a sharp knife, bringing him back to reality in a millisecond.

Everything seems to quicken up, and the next thing he knows is that the bundle of his child is placed in his arms, and after that initial wave of slightly terrified chills running through his body, immediately a mixture of relief, joy and tranquility spreads in his veins. He has no idea why he was so scared this whole time. This is... subconscious. Instinctive. Meant to be.

In that very moment he wordlessly promises the baby to always be there for her, always looking out for her, always caring and loving her with all of his heart. He won't let any harm ever reach her.

"Congratulations, Mr. Sainz, on the birth of your son," the doctor approaches him, and that last word bursts the bubble Carlos has been surrounded with.

Son?

His eyes widen, lips fall slightly open in shock – right until he hears the exhausted sounding but unmistakable giggle coming from the bed. "I told you," she grins.

"A boy," he mumbles dreamily, glancing at his girlfriend, lips curving into a smile matching hers.

"Good thing I came prepared with boy names as well," she continues, slight pants leaving her lungs still.

The memory when she practically wanted to force him into choosing a male name as well, just in case – because he was so sure about their baby being a girl that he didn't even want to spend a moment thinking about names for the other sex –, pops into his mind, and he shakes his head. He was wrong.

Tiny feet patter on the floor, growing louder and louder, before a second later they suddenly cease and get replaced by a high-pitched giggle.

She glances up just as Carlos appears in the doorway to the kitchen, their son hanging from his arms, his little cheeks red from all the laughter. Her heart swells at the sight and sounds, her eyes shine bright, connecting with his easily – the love of her life.

Miracle. That's what the little boy is in their lives.

Watching Carlos be a father has been the best thing she's ever had the chance to witness. The way he plays with him, practically going back to being a child, his sole focus being on entertaining his son.

The Sainz household they established not too long ago is filled with laughter every day, the walls reverberating with the joyous sounds until they fill their hearts.

"When's dinner ready, mi amor?" Carlos leans in, pressing a loving kiss on her temple.

She cheerfully smiles, her fingers moving to caress the impossibly soft, dark brown hair on the little boy's head. "A few minutes," she replies, catching her fiancé's eyes once more. "If you two help me set the table, we can eat sooner."

Her son nods eagerly, as much as his three-year-old energy allows, and waves his tiny arms to wordlessly tell his father to put him down on the ground. Carlos obeys, then opens the cupboard to find the appropriate plates – all plastic, reserved for the times when it's only the three of them eating, to allow the young one to help them without the worry of him breaking anything.

She watches from the corner of her eyes as her two boys move towards the dining table, where Carlos lifts their son to stand on a chair, this way allowing him to reach the tabletop. His hands never leave the boy's waist, just in case, and when he's finished setting the plates, helps him back on the ground.

"Good job, chiquito," Carlos holds his palm out at the proper height.

"Gracias, papá," the little one slaps into his father's hand eagerly, making his mother smile so wide it's close to actually hurt the muscles in her cheeks.

They walk back to the kitchen counter with proud looks on their faces, and she places the bowl of salad in Carlos' hands. "It's too heavy for you, pumpkin," she explains when her son opens his mouth to complain.

"Te adoro," Carlos steals a melting kiss from her lips as his fingers get a hold of the bowl, before leaning back and fully taking it from her. I adore you.

With her heart fluttering with nothing but pure happiness and blood rushing to her face, she enjoys the way that bashful smile forms on her lips that only he can achieve. Her gaze follows his movements, the way the T-shirt clings to his arms, to his back muscles, and how the soft material ripples with every move he makes. He is breathtaking. He truly is, because unawares, she lets out a soft gasp watching him and has to endure the knowing glance and that smirk he casts her way above his shoulder. He knows her too well.

She shakes her head, attention going back to her son still standing by her feet, patiently waiting for his next task. A perfect mini-him, way more than she could've ever asked for.

A perfect child, a perfect man to call the love of her life, a perfect life. And it's all hers.

a/n: i'm back baby!! i've been gone for the longest time ever (since last summer) but i'm in my final year of uni and i had to write my thesis too so hopefully that's a good enough excuse. writer's block ain't fun still. it really just feels nice to post something again.

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

#carlos sainz #cs55 fic #blurb #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr x you #sainz x reader #carlos sainz f1 #cs55 #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fiction #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one fanfic #formula one fic #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader

[mandalhoerian]

Shai! Shai! I've thought of another scenario for Leon😊 Altho being a new fan I've come to the conclusion that Leon is the type to believe he's not good enough for his partner, he believes they could do better then him. So imagine a Leon who has finally accepted he has feelings for you and works up the courage to confess only for you to turn the tables on him and say you dont feel good enough for him. I imagine he would be in disbelief? How would he react to his crush telling him "You're too good for me Leon."?

too good for me | leon kennedy x reader

pairing: leon kennedy x reader (unspecified gender) genre: fluff, miscommunication, the "endeared badass x normal person scared shitless of the endeared badass" trope. no spice, unfortunately. only good vibes and leon being head over heels smitten. enjoy! word count: 2.7K? It's short! notes: hi sarah! i am SO SORRY this has taken forever. you requested this one month ago! its been so hectic lately, i've been having health problems that required regular hospital visits and tests upon tests, but now that my surgery (yeah i know... yikes) is authorized i'm only waiting for them to call me for the date and have all the time in the world to get my rest and write. i'm also working on your other (wink wink) request! thank you so much for being patient with me. hope this is what you had in mind! i also added my touch and ideas to it lmao. happy reading!!

🌀 read on ao3!

“You’re too good for me,” is the hesitant, small answer you give him while avoiding eye contact and playing with your fingers in front of your office’s shared coffee maker Leon had made countless paperwork excuses to be able to simply stop by — to his question, that is, about why you wouldn’t go on a simple date with him. 

You puff out an awkward laugh to smooth things over as humorous but it’s forced and not at all sincere. 

It’s taken Leon a whole inner journey (Spain. Mostly the simultaneous trauma and catharsis of Spain) to get over himself to recognize what his heart truly wanted but was too pussy to look at before, yet here you two are. The lone angel in his life telling the failure Leon is that he’s too good? For you?

He simply stares, dumbly standing there, piping hot coffee that’s actually incompatible with his taste buds he insists he must do a detour to get from here simply because you often do, stiff and awkward in his hold, thinking he heard you wrong because he hasn’t gotten a good night’s rest — rest, not sleep — in forever since he came back from Spain. 

He’s been forcing himself to come to work just for a glimpse of you and your pretty face to recharge his battery, heal his soul a bit, let you be all that occupies his mind despite being laid off after that outrageous mission that resulted in the president’s unwanted favor and nightmares upon nightmares with only anxious yet soothing thoughts of you as the best bad out of the worst he’s had to face— and what is it that you said again?  

“You’re joking right?” Leon says, pride not knowing if it should be broken or not because he’s not sure to take this as a rejection, and it isn’t his intention for it to sound that harsh. He’s not some asshole who can’t take no for an answer, it’s your reasoning that has him downright jamming like a gun.

Leon has to remind himself to switch off work mode because now you look mousey as if he has a paw on your tail, shoulders pulled into yourself.  “Sorry!” He feels so bad, heart expanding within his ribcage and it aches, fuck, he just wanted to ask you out and all he’s doing is scaring you. “I’m sorry, you were kidding. I didn’t get it— I’m kinda slow and you sound flat sometimes, of course you weren’t serious, I’m—”

“No, I was serious.” His eyebrows furrow at yet another self-degradation from you. “It’s you who has to be kidding. What do you mean too good for you?”

You are at a loss of words, mouth opening but nothing coming out, and finally look him in the eye and all Leon wants to do is lean down and capture your mouth, he’s heavily distracted by you licking your lips and swallowing, the sighting of the tip of your pink tongue makes his shirt suddenly suffocating and tight. 

“I mean,” you begin tentatively, unaware of what’s going on in his head, vaguely gesturing to Leon. “Well… You’re you, I mean… And I’m. Me. Look at you and look at me. Why would you even…?”

“Hey,” Leon sets his mug on the counter, closing his eyes and pinching the insides with his thumb and pointer. The implications alone sent a zapping headache through his skull that he knows he has to rest to be able to unpack, especially when he’s finally decided on seriously pursuing you in spite of himself. Leon can’t let this remain unaddressed, for your sake and his sanity. “How about I wait for you after work today and we talk about this somewhere else?” He’s squinting. “In detail.”

“We don’t really need to—”

“We do.” Leon wants you to see he’s serious about this — about you. “Because I see something here that I want to pursue and we can’t have any misunderstandings. Would appreciate it if you at least give me the chance to clear the air.”

“P-pursue?” You swallow and Leon’s mind wanders again. “Clear the air you say…”

He breathes in. “Can you give me your phone?”

You slap it into his palm almost immediately, the speed with which you obey him without asking him any questions surprises him. He wants to scold if you’re willing to hand over your mobile to any guy who asks, but supposes it’s not his place — is frustrated this is what it takes to get him annoyed, as well. He isn’t some young adult. Weirdly, you make him feel like one.  

He’s punching his own number in, despite the conflicting feelings, finally feeling like this is getting somewhere and he’s doing it when you start talking again, nervous. “You can uh, clear the air… right here… without taking me to a secondary location…” 

His eyes flick up to yours in confusion and you look to the right immediately, and back to him. To the right. Back to him. It’s somehow comedic, because why do you look like you’re cornered by some bad guy? 

You really look like you want to be anywhere else than here, Leon’s fucking this up and he doesn’t even know what he’s doing wrong. Was he going too fast? Should he have told you his number and let you save it instead? 

You’re mumbling, nervousness clear as day for reasons he can’t fathom, he hears you, but he doesn’t really understand. 

“What? What's wrong?" Leon asks, his voice laced with genuine concern. He takes a step closer, wanting to bridge the gap between you and alleviate whatever discomfort you were experiencing. "You seem... uneasy. Did I do something wrong?"

Your eyes meet his briefly, then quickly shift away again, as if you are struggling to find the right words. 

Leon's heart sinks. His intention wasn’t to make you feel nervous or pressured, especially when he is genuinely trying to connect with you — then, in a brilliant moment of heart-stopping realization, the fact that you might just not be interested slaps him in the face and he’s…

Well. Wouldn’t that be the reality? 

Leon is… He isn’t exactly the ideal man. Not with what he does, and how his life is. He’s aware of that. Have been running from forming connections because of what he knows will end up happening because of that. He can’t get attached and keep losing people — can’t keep getting hurt in the vicious cycle to prevent everyone from getting hurt. It’s been the bane of his existence ever since STRATCOM plucked him off straight from Raccoon City. Even if you work in the same field as him, just different offices, who is to say it will work out anyway? 

He’s getting ahead of himself. You might not like him at all in the first place. Jesus. 

Maybe you see him for what he is. Maybe you think he’s not  —- the effort’s not worth it, and you wouldn’t exactly be wrong in thinking so. You could be wanting something else in life that he only has the desire to give you, and not the promise. He wouldn’t blame you, hell, who would blame someone for being their own person with their thoughts, wishes, wants and goals in life? 

You’re too good for me, really, is his line. It has been right from the beginning, his excuse in running away from his undeniable, frightening attraction to you.

"No, it's not you," you finally managed to articulate, prompting Leon to release the breath he was holding, your voice shaky, playing with your fingers. "I just... I feel a bit overwhelmed. This is all happening so fast, and I never expected..."

Leon nods, his expression softening as he realizes the weight of the situation. He hasn’t fully considered how his sudden confession and determination to pursue you might have caught you off guard. He has been so focused on his own feelings that he hasn’t taken into account your own thoughts and emotions.

"I understand," he replies, voice gentle and reassuring. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I just... I couldn't keep my feelings to myself anymore. But please know that I don't expect an immediate answer or any commitment from you. I just… Well. I just wanted to tell you. See where this goes. Or, maybe, if that’s not the case… Get rejected for good so I can move on, you know?"

You laugh a little and it’s genuine — you have no idea how it turns Leon’s heart into putty right where it hangs between two lungs. “Do you really mean all of that?”

“Of course,” he says, offended the tiniest bit. “Why do you think I would joke about something like this?”

“It’s not about you joking, really…” You’re uncomfortable again, hesitating to tell him something. 

“Hey, you can tell me.”

“Can you promise you won’t get mad?”

“What am I, your father?” He snorts. “Come on, tell me.” 

You brace yourself for it and he doesn’t understand why until you say it. “You, um… You’re kinda scary.”

He blinks. “Sorry?”

“Sorry!” You raise your hands up in panic. “I don’t really mean it like that, not to insult you or anything, it’s actually admirable, I’m just saying! Discipline, work ethic, unmatched field performance! You’re very… Very, uh… Intimidating, yeah, that’s the word…? I mean, like… You, uh, you’re famous, you know, we all know your work, you’re very hard working, working hard, very hard work — uh, um… So it’s…”

“I scare you?” Leon swears he felt his eyes get bigger the faster you kept on vomiting words. “You think I would hurt you?” 

“No!” You reject strongly, waving a nervous hand at him. Silence befalls later, which you follow awkwardly with a silent, guilty. “Maybe,” after clearing your throat. 

 He had always strived to be a protector, but he hadn't realized that his image and reputation — what it had become after Spain — could have such an effect on someone he cares about. 

"I never meant to scare you," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine remorse, he puts the coffee mug on the counter and leans his hip on it, shoulders sagging a bit as he crosses his arms. The thought of you only feeling intimidation about him leaves a bitter taste worse than the coffee does. "I guess... I've always been so focused on work, on the dangers just around the corner — I’m aware how it might affect my relationships in the long run so I never attempted to form any at all, but I never realized how it might affect how people see me in the first place. I never wanted to make you, of all people, feel this way. I could never hurt you. Never."

“I didn’t want to imply you’re a guy who’d intentionally hurt someone—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighs, ruffling his hair to get rid of the awkwardness. “So I’ve just been bugging you this whole time, huh? Jesus. I’m so sorry.”

“No! No, don’t say that, you’re amazing! You’re like a hero around here…”

“Around here doesn’t mean shit,” he replies curtly, and regrets cursing like that in front of you immediately. It’s unbecoming of him — and doesn’t help his image in your eyes at all. He’s getting frustrated. His tone lowers into a softer, more disappointed, heartfelt one. “I only care about how you think of me.” 

“Well, you’re amazing,” you say again, bashfully this time, and it prompts him to look at you. There’s something shy about you now that has him standing taller in anticipation, wondering if it’s him reading this wrong or not. “It’s pretty well-known if you didn’t know.”

“I don’t know,” he prods, idiot heart fluttering at the way you’re flustered. “What do you think? Besides intimidating, I mean. Not reporting on the local gossip this time, if you don’t mind.”

“You seem like a nice guy,” you settle. The middle ground. “I’ve seen you with the president’s daughter.”

Leon's expression softens at your words, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him. He takes a deep breath, trying to let go of the tension that had built up within him. The mention brings a slight smile to his face, memories of Ashley flooding his mind, a fondness evident in his eyes. "Ah, Ashley. Yeah, that was quite the adventure. Though what can you be other than a nice guy when your mission is the president’s daughter?"

“I know a couple people who’d treat her like a package to be delivered. You prioritized her wellbeing more than anything.”

“What else was I supposed to prioritize?”

“You know what I mean. Emotional wellbeing. I’ve read your initial report and her statement. You cared about her.” A smile tugs at your lips, he can tell you’re a bit more comfortable now. "Especially during what you’ve been through. It's impressive how you handle yourself in those situations."

He shrugs modestly, a hint of pride shining in his eyes. You respect him. "I guess you could say it comes with the job. But it's not all action and danger, you know. There's more to me than just being a government agent."

Your curiosity piques, and you tilt your head, prompting him to continue. "Tell me more. What's Leon Kennedy like outside of work and missions?"

It catches him off guard that you want to know more and take the first step. You could have just rejected him. His heart picks up, chest expanding in excitement, he’s glad for the opportunity to share a glimpse of his life beyond the chaos of his work — he’s normally not eager to share pieces of his life like this, but… He’d give it to you on a silver platter, whether it'd lure you in or not. That’s how Leon knows he wants this with you so bad. “I wanna lie to woo you but… Would it be too unattractive to tell I really don’t have a life outside of work? I’m still trying to find some balance in my life. The upper echelon guys are pretty ruthless and demanding. I guess it means I can say I’m into traveling?”

“Is this the cool guy way of saying you’re an introvert these days?”

The unexpectedness of it is what gets him to throw his head back to laugh, and he catches you staring, scrambling to rub his face to get rid of it and regain some composure. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Pretty much.”

“Well,” you gesture at him, there’s a vague pink hue dusting your cheeks. “What are you into, then?”

God, he can’t stop, “Other than you?” from escaping his dumb mouth. He shouldn’t have said it. It’s too corny. So uncalled for. Your mouth hangs open and he wishes he could rewind the tape to take it back and choose some other option. “Say… What about we continue this discussion after work? I know a good coffee place. Let me make it up to you for invading your lunch time. I’ll tell you all about me, what do you say?”

You look at the clock on the wall, he knows you didn’t get to have anything because he decided to turn up and serenade you with unwanted attention, it’s two birds with one stone for him if you decide to accept — he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t see a perfect moment to seize the chance. 

“Coffee sounds perfect,” you nod, with no pressure from him, and it lifts a great weight off his shoulders. “Would it be okay if I eat something too?”

Why are you so adorable? You don’t know that you own the power to get Leon to have your superiors let you go for the day, but he can’t get too excited right now. “Say the word and it becomes a dinner date.”

It gets you flustered again, you don’t know where to put your hands, and he’s so happy about it. “It’s a weekday… That’d be a bit exhausting…”

“Okay. Coffee date it is.”

He’s noticing you like the cheeky confidence, and it makes sense, considering the intensity had you intimidated. “Thank you,” you say. “I’d like that.”

“Believe me,” Leon can’t stop the grin from overtaking his expression. “My pleasure. You’re honestly too good for me.”

There’s the sudden urge to kiss you when vulnerability and shyness lights up your whole face, but he’ll take it slow. He has to take it slow. For himself. 

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fluff

[andkisses]

♡ roman holiday | sunghoon ♡

will this bucket list trip be the thing that finally forces you to face your feelings? or will it be the thing that tears the two of you apart for good?

♡ sunghoon x gn!reader | wc. 9.4k ♡ genres/tropes: childhood friends to lovers and the fluff and angst that comes with it, college!au (not obvious but implied), road trips ♡ mentions of/warnings: arguments, references to a toxic family environment, allusions to drowning, i think that’s all but lmk if there’s smth else that needs added! ♡ a/n: this has been a wip for SOO long we’re talking YEARS and has changed muses several times but i finally sat down to finish this and im so proud of what i managed <3 truly some of my favorite things ive ever written ! inspired by roman holiday by halsey! this is also the longest thing i think i have ever written <3

♡ masterlist ♡

The coffee ring on the counter stares back at you, warm brown against a stark egg white. You can’t tell if it’s old or new, and part of you doesn’t care. Another part wants to know, though, when the coffee stain was made and why it was never cleaned. The motel is practically empty, the older lady behind the front desk and a tired-looking family in the corner of the dining room are the only other inhabitants.

Through the windows, dressed quaintly with homesewn drapes, you see the tall mountain trees, dark green and prickly, stretching up to the crystal blue sky. The television across the room is set to the weather station, and the anchor talks about how a cold front could potentially lead to an early snow. 

A tray with various breakfast items clunks against the table, and the boy you’ve been traveling with settles in across from you, faux leather chair seat squeaking beneath in subtle “I’m hardly ever used” protest. His dark hair falls into his eyes messily, as if he only just now got up and rolled out of bed. The red flannel and vest he wears matches the surroundings, but looks absurd on your best friend.

“Sunghoon,” you start, interlacing your fingers and resting your chin on the bridge they form. Your eyes scan the tray, accounting each and every tiny portion of food. Eggs, both scrambled and hard boiled, some toast with an assortment of little jam containers, a little bowl of butter, two pancakes, half a waffle, and a few strips of bacon. “Thank you for getting everything,” you continue, leveling a stare over the top of your nose, “but you forgot the syrup.”

The boy in front of you blinks, bites his lips, and nods his head. A soft yeah, I forgot the syrup escapes his lips as he slides out of his chair, the pleather squeaking once again. “Give me like two minutes,” he says, “the breakfast bar is crazy to navigate. Do you see the things I do for you?” His smile is teasing.

“It’s no problem, Hoon—” Your voice trails off as he jogs off into the distance. You shake your head, feeling lethargic and sleepy beneath the slow-turning ceiling fan. Your gaze follows its metallic clink, and the fan seems as if it’s never been replaced in the 50-something years this establishment has operated.

You’re brought back down by a small tug on your sleeve, and when you look, it’s the little girl from the tired family across the room. She blinks up at you, not much unlike Sunghoon, innocent and full of curiosity. You nod your head, encouraging her to talk. The little girl takes a big gulp of air, dual pigtails bobbing, before, “I think your boyfriend is very nice and I like how he gets you your breakfast.”

The laugh that leaves you is easy, the statement hardly shocking at all. You’re used to it, strangers and acquaintances alike assuming the relationship status between the two of you. It’s nothing new. The little girl’s face is confused, her head listing to one side. You nod again, swallowing any additional laughter. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you reply, and you see a little bit of the light in her eyes diminish. “We’re just really good friends. He’s my best friend, actually.”

The girl’s brows furrowed together, a small pout forming on her lips. Obviously not the answer she was expecting. Then she nods, lips pursed. “Yeah, okay,” she mutters, seeming confused. Before she turns to walk back to her family, she looks back up and adds, “He’s a good friend. I would keep him as my friend for a long time.”

“That’s what I intend on doing, kiddo.” Your voice is quiet as the little girl skips back across the old, faded carpet towards her family. You see Sunghoon emerge from the breakfast bar, where everyone else at this motel must be. He waves small packets of syrup in the air. The smile that flits across your face is fleeting. You try to ignore, again, this feeling in your chest. Your voice is small, talking to yourself. “For as long as possible.”

***

The candy-colored Valentine stared back at you, practically mocking you. Third grade and only one Valentine. You tried to fight back the tears, attempted to sniff them back inside, but nothing worked. They fell, one by one, onto the homemade card, soaking through the pink construction paper and leaving roundly-shaped wet splotches across your only card.

You read the simple message, “Happy Valentine’s! – Sunghoon”, over and over and over again. You racked your brain, trying to figure out why, why, why no one else gave you a card. You were nice, you offered to help them when they needed it. It seemed like everyone liked you. They even let you sit by them at lunch.

So why?

The hand on your shoulder startled you, your head whipping up to face the figure standing beside the desk. It was Sunghoon, the boy who gave you the only Valentine in your possession. The edges of his dark hair curled around his eyebrows and the corners of his eyes. His brow scrunched with worry, and he ducked down to see your face.

“Are you okay?”

You shook your head, a bitter pout filling out your lips. “Does it look like I’m okay?”

Sunghoon shrugged, removing his hand to pull out the seat beside you. “I guess not.” He pursed his lips, hands clasped in his lap, before looking back at you. “What’s the matter?”

You flung the single Valentine—his own Valentine—back at him. The construction paper flew through the air before catching, floating down to land on the table by Sunghoon, who deftly picked it up and turned it over in his hands.

“It’s the only one you got?”

You nodded, crossing your arms on your desk and sinking into them. A heavy sigh left your chest and you sniffled, trying to keep the angry tears from falling again. You wished the day would end; that the bell would ring and release you so you could go home and cry somewhere comfier instead.

There was silence, then, “Does it matter if you only got one?”

You scoffed, still hidden in your arms. “Uh, duh? It means no one in this class likes me.”

“Then… why does it matter if everyone else doesn’t like you? Shouldn’t one person liking you be okay?”

You bit your lip. You can’t tell if you like his thinking or not. You decided not to respond.

You heard the chair scrape against the wood floor beside you, and you figured it was Sunghoon leaving to return to the other students. That was fine, you figured. It’s what you should expect, anyway. Even if he was the only one who gave you a Valentine, it was probably only because he gave the whole class Valentine’s. What a guy.

Then the chair was drug against the floor again, much closer this time. You popped your head up, a scowl still on your face, to see what was happening. Sunghoon had scooted it closer, and in his hands was another Valentine. You watched as he flipped the card over to the decorated side and skillfully pulled off the foam heart-shaped sticker, as if he’d had to do this thousands of times before.

His question is one you didn’t expect. “Where do you want to go?”

You look up at him, incredulous. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if you don’t have many friends here, you must want to be somewhere else?” Sunghoon shrugged, as if the thought made perfect sense to him. “Right?”

You pursed your lips, mimicking his shrug. “I guess you’re right...”

“Then,” Sunghoon began again, “where do you want to go?”

“Uhm, my house?” you answered. Crying on your fluffy bed would be much more comfortable than crying on this hard desk. Your arms were sore from resting on the edge and your back was stiff from the awkward angle.

Sunghoon shook his head. “No, think bigger. Like, vacation places and stuff.”

“Hmm... then, maybe, the big cities? The ones you always see in TV shows. And... the beach, because the ocean is really nice.”

Sunghoon nodded, diligently taking note of every place you suggested. His handwriting is a little crooked, but it fit on the now vacant front of a Valentine’s card. He looked up at you, eyes wide with question. “Anywhere else?”

You frowned, deep in thought. Then, as if someone tapped you on the shoulder and whispered it in your ear, an idea sprung to mind. “A really tall mountain, where it’s snowy all the time. No matter the season”

The pencil lead pulled across the paper, leaving information behind. Sunghoon returned to the top of the page, tapping the pencil’s eraser on the side of his cheek before scribbling a final note down. “There! It’s finished!” He slid it over in front of you.

You read the title of the list aloud: “The Wanderlist? But that isn’t even a word.”

Sunghoon shook his head. “It is now.” He leaned over, pointing at all the places you had stated. “And that’s everywhere we’re gonna go, because I’m your best friend now. We won’t be lonely, because we have each other. And we’re gonna travel all over.”

You sat up, leveling him a stare. “Well, this is gonna be expensive, you know. Trips aren’t free. They cost a lot.”

Sunghoon smiled, the kind that, even for a tin moment, makes everything seem like it’s possible. “Then we better start saving now!”

 ***

The pink paper stares up at you from its place on the dashboard, stuck with a random sticker right next to the air vent. The edges had aged, curling and warping, and your tear stains from 3rd grade are still faintly visible. You read over the list—your wanderlist, as Sunghoon had named it all those years ago.

1. Big cities (because TV) x2!!

2. The beach (because cool ocean)

3. Tall mountain (because always snow)

The big city had been marked off in 6th grade, when the class had a trip to the modern art museum, and again in 8th grade for a series of school-wide competitions, from writing and art to band to mathematics and science. Sunghoon had excelled at creative writing while you swept the math category for your region.

The beach was crossed off the day before the two of you left for college. How bitter it was that you had to be separated, together for ten years only to be settled in two different places. Yes, you weren’t that far away. A half day’s drive. But you both knew, deep down, how likely seeing each other was.

So you did something about it. The day before, you woke up before the sun. You loaded his car up with everything you would need for a daytrip, and you took off for the coast. You spent the whole day, afternoon, and evening parked at a spot on the beach. If you think about it now, you can still smell the seabreeze, imagine it in your hair. You can hear Sunghoon’s laugh, about what, you can’t remember. You do remember how happy you both were.

You remember sitting side by side, sharing a blanket over your shoulders as the seabreeze grew colder, watching the sun disappear on the horizon. You remember the thoughts you had–the ones you normally stamped down and annoyed. You should tell him. You’d been so close before. You wouldn’t even say the word to yourself, but you knew.

You didn’t say anything

“Can you believe these clouds?” Sunghoon says, slipping into the driver's seat and shutting the door. He places his keys into the ignition and turns like he always had. You watch the keychain you got him freshman year of high school swing from momentum. When you look back up, Sunghoon is watching you, leaning one elbow on the center console, hair in his eyes. “I suppose even the weather believes my sunny disposition is more than enough.”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, smacking his shoulder. You turn to look out the window, biting your lip. You’ve got to get it together. You blame that little girl from breakfast. You’d been doing just fine not thinking about Sunghoon in That Way. Now here you were, all these stupid feelings drummed up.

It doesn’t help that Sunghoon pulls out a cassette–MT-PSH-5–and pops it into the player. His smile grows wide as he turns out of the parking lot and onto the road, heading further up the mountain. “Nothing like some classic tunes.”

It was dumb. It didn’t mean anything.

It’s all you can think about.

Sneaking out late, hot summer heat still sticky and oppressing. You could feel the waves rise up from the concrete as it finally felt relief in the moonlight. You’d felt like dressing up, sneaking into your mother’s room and applying her fancy department store perfume to the nape of your neck. Your fingers gracefully found her pearls in the glass bowl on the dresser as you left, and you pulled them over your head, letting them rest against your collar bone. They’re still cool against your hot skin.

You escaped through the back patio, walking past the fist-sized hole in the drywall you wished you could forget about. The dusty edges kept raining down debris if someone walked too close to it. You let yourself out the gate in the fence, pulling it shut behind you. You felt for the keys to the front door in your pocket, and they jingled in response. You clasped your hand around the cool metal, the cuts sharp and edgy beneath your palm.

He met you at the corner of his street and yours, his dark hair swallowing up the soft moonlight. It made his features seem younger, softer. It felt like you were kids again.

You fell in line beside each other, walking the empty streets without fear. Who was to stop some teenagers walking the street at midnight? Random cars passed by, people finally returning home from the late shift but paying no mind to you two. And that was fine; you didn’t want them to care.

The black gates around the community pool glinted in the yellow streetlights, reaching out to you like a beacon. The closer you drew, the more the overwhelming scent of chlorine filled the air. You walked forward, hands in your jacket pockets, one wrapped tightly around your house keys. You took a deep, steadying breath. This was fine. You had this.

“Hey, [Y/N], do we really have to do this?”

You rolled your eyes, pulling your hands from your pockets and grabbing the top of the fence. You’d have to pull yourself up, and be extra careful of the metal pickets at the top. It’d be tough, but you could make it. “What?” you snapped back lightly, voice echoing amongst the night. “Scared of hopping the fence?”

“No, that’d be ridiculous,” Sunghoon replied, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to rest on one foot. “Jumping fences is nothing for me. Jumping fences into property that—” he pointed to a white and red sign just beside your knees. “—considers jumping fences into property after hours as illegal and trespassing? That sets me on edge.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes again. “It’s not like they’ve got police roaming around or anything, and the owner’s too cheap for security cameras. I’m sure if we tried hard enough, we could just pull the fence down instead of having to jump it.” For emphasis, you grabbed hold of the rods and shook. A loud metallic echo escaped into the night, and before you could pull back and shake a third time, Sunghoon had dashed to your side, placing his hands on yours to stop you.

His brown eyes caught the light as he shook his head back and forth and hissed, “If you’re going to do something illegal, do it quietly! Especially when I’m here.”

You leaned forward, head inching towards his, with a scowl on your face. “Then shut up and hop the fence.” You drew back, replacing your hands at the top and pulled yourself up and over with ease. Maybe mandatory PE did have benefits.. Your sneakers landed on the pavement, and when you stood upright from the landing, you stared at Sunghoon through the bars. “You can either join me,” you began, a smirk on your face, chin tilted up, “or you could just wait while I go and find my car keys.”

You turned on your heels, walking towards the lifeguard’s shack. You could have sworn the sigh you heard was strong enough to blow the fence down altogether

Your shoes scuffed against the concrete, and you felt the humid air of the pool spill over and try to reach out to you. Its arms clung and bit at your ankles as the water inside sloshed around with the teasing wind. You shook them off, changing course from the pool’s edge to the guard’s shack. The padlock on the door seemed old—really old—and you crossed your fingers before giving a giant tug and having it pop open in your hands.

The wooden door swung open and you stepped inside the dingy shack. Various lost pool toys littered the floor, and a box of deflated tricolor beach balls appeared to have seen better days. But you weren’t interested in any of that: you needed your car keys. Above you, nestled nearly at the top of the peaked roof was a loft filled with white plastic bins. One of them, you noted, was closer to the edge than the others, as if someone had lazily swung it up there.

You crossed your fingers again, reaching up to pull the basket down to you. “Please be there, please be there, please be there,” you chanted under your breath. You peered into the basket. On top, someone’s embroidered handkerchief. You pinched the soft material between your finger and thumb before tossing it aside in the basket. Someone’s crazy straw, two Rubik’s Cubes, a school ID lanyard, and—yes!

You fished your car keys out with one hand and swung the basket back up into the loft with the other. You turned to leave, ready to find Sunghoon, reunite with your car, and drive home, but before you can even take a single step back out you’ve run into something.

Or someone.

Your scream’s instantly shushed by your best friend, a single finger coming up against your lips. Sunghoon was so close, and you felt the pool humidity roll off his shoulders as he looked at you with confusion. “Are you done?” he asked. “And why are you screaming?”

You shook your head, holding up your keys. “Yes. Also, you scared me. How did you get in here? I didn’t think you’d hop the fence.”

“Didn’t have to.” Sunghoon held up a matching padlock to the one you’d pulled off outside. “Looks like the owner’s too cheap to buy actual locks for his gates. I simply walked in.”

You left the lifeguard’s shack, replacing the lock and headed for the entrance, where Sunghoon easily swung open the wrought iron gate. You walked towards your car as Sunghoon redid the lock, simply looping it through and clicking it shut.

You kissed your car keys and unlocked the doors, swinging down into the driver’s seat. Sunghoon slid into the passenger seat beside you, and as soon as his door shut, the engine was starting and you were pulling out of the parking spot.

“Let a guy put on his seatbelt first?” Sunghoon joked as he clicked his into place. “I don’t see you wearing yours, [Y/N].”

“Then you’re not looking close enough,” you replied, taking one hand off the wheel to pull at your own seatbelt. “Seems as if someone isn’t paying attention.”

“Forgive me, I was busy making sure no one saw our illegal activity. I would like to graduate high school next year with a clean record.”

You laughed something similar to a scoff as you flicked on your turn signal and made your way down his street. “You say that as if we robbed a bank. Is it really trespassing if the locks don’t even work? The wind could have undone them.” You turned to catch a glance at your friend, and what you caught was a judgmental glare in the green glow of the dashboard.

With a simple curve of the steering wheel, you pulled in front of his house. You shifted the car in park and rotated towards the passenger seat. “Thanks for breaking the law with me, Sunghoon. It means a lot. I’m touched.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He leaned towards the door, making as if to pull the handle and open it, when he reached inside his pocket. His eyes lit up and he turned back towards you. “Oh, yeah!”

You shook your head, confused. You hold a single hand up. “Oh, yeah, what?”

“Here’s that mixtape you wanted,” Sunghoon answers, placing a cassette tape in your unintentionally outstretched hand. You scowled. You didn’t know how he had the technology to make a cassette in this day and age, but then again, you were the one with a car so old it still had a cassette player. You two were a pair, you supposed.

“When did you finish it?” you asked, spinning it around in your hands. The clear, Sharpie handwriting read MT-PSH-5 on the short white label.

“This morning,” he replied, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Why didn’t you give it to me earlier, then?” You turn to look at him. The yellow glow of the streetlights blend in with the green of the dashboard lights. His eyes remained that entrancing brown color, though. Romantic and homey all at once, untouchable by any other shade.

Sunghoon shrugged. “Perhaps it was because you didn’t have a car to play it in when I finished it? It was unavailable to you, shall we say.”

“Ha, ha, very funny.” You kept turning the cassette in your hands, as if you’d find something new and exciting on each turn.

“Oh, and—” Sunghoon leaned across the center console, reaching to take the tape from your hands, like he had something to say or show you. But he stopped. His brows furrowed together, and he turned to you, face mere inches from your own. “Are you wearing perfume?”

You nodded. “Yeah. My mom’s, and I got mad at her since she got mad at me about the car so I...”

An eyebrow quirked up. “You’re showing your mom up by stealing some of her perfume?”

“It’s expensive,” you muttered, sliding down into your seat. “She’ll have to pay for it later. Literally.”

And with that, he laughed. Nice and hearty and his eyes turned into tiny crescent moons and you felt your heart flutter—something that had happened a lot as of late, and you’re not entirely sure why. Yes, Sunghoon was a good friend. A best friend. But that’s all he was. He—

“Hey.” Your attention snapped from a distance spot on the road over to him, and he felt even closer now for some reason. Your heart registered how soft he’d spoken and proceeded to beat faster because of it. His eyes searched yours, but for what you don’t know. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “Make sure you get home safe, okay? Wouldn’t want anything happening to the city’s greatest delinquent.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, but it was short and stilted. You barely heard what he said over the thumping of your own blood in your ears. You felt the red flush creep up your neck, dusting your cheeks and turning your ears a cherry color. When you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry, all you could think about was how loud it seemed. Your grip on the mixtape tightened, it seemingly the only thing tethering you to the real world.

You couldn’t tell if the radio was one or not or whether you’d turned car off and left the keys in the ignition. All you could tell was Sunghoon, so close and so real he almost seemed unreal. And then it happened. He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut before placing a soft kiss on the side of your cheek, right next to your lips. It happened too fast and it was the slowest moment of your life all at once. Your heart was practically screaming now, hands rattling around the mixtape.

When he pulled back, he kept going, opening the car door and stepping out. Before closing it, he leaned in and nodded. “I meant what I said about getting back safely. Promise?”

You nodded. “I promise.” You were surprised your voice worked at all. That you were able to form a coherent, albeit a simplistic, sentence. That you could think at all. The door swung shut and you shifted the car into drive.

The whole way home felt automatic, limbs working separate from your internal instructions. When you returned home, you pulled up beside your mailbox and turned the car off, pulling the keys and letting them rest in your hand. You sat motionless, seatbelt still in place, as you stared, eyes fixated at someone mindless spot on the dashboard. The pearls were cool against your heated skin.

It was dumb. It didn’t mean anything.

It’s all you can think about.

You flip the mixtape over in your hands, reading the slightly-faded yet still legible handwriting. MT-HVC-5. You’d run through the songs already, and Sunghoon had switched to some CD mixes he had brought. Why he didn’t get a car with Bluetooth, something you’d done a while ago, you’d never know. Maybe that was part of his charm. 

You’d managed to learn to forget about that kiss, or at least ignore it. But Sunghoon pulling out the mixtape he’d given you that night pulls it back up to the surface. You aren’t even sure how it even got into his possession. The longer you recall the memory, the more you can feel the burn on your cheek from where his warm lips touched your skin. The rest of the flush comes back from how you wish so badly it would happen again.

  “What’s up?”

“Huh?” You turn towards his voice, away from the window.

“I asked what’s up,” Sunghoon repeats, looking over at you for a split second before returning to the road. “You seem like we’re on another planet.”

“Just thinking about when we were younger, you know...” Did he? What did you want him to think about? The day you’ve been obsessing over? And then what would he do about it? Pull over and confess? Kiss you, but mean it this time?

Sunghoon laughs, breaking your thoughts. He spares another quick glance in your direction. “Younger like what? Like third grade or two days ago?”

You reach across the center console to smack his shoulder. “Why would it be two days ago?”

“We were younger then. Wild, foolish.” Sunghoon takes one hand off the wheel and places his knuckles on his forehead. “The way we were is actually unimaginable now.”

“I’m done with you.”

Sunghoon scoffs. “Sure you are.” A quick beat, a hum to the music. “Anyway, what were you thinking about?”

You’re quiet for a moment. Then, “Do you think we'll change?”

“We have changed.”

“Really?” He said it so simply, it takes you off guard. You turn to look at him, even though you know he’ll keep his eyes glued safely to the road.

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “We’ve totally changed. We don't like the same kinds of music as the old us used to. We don't eat mac and cheese for every conceivable meal—except for the day after that one chem exam.”

“That final was hard!” You reach across the center console to shove at his shoulder–oh, god, why do you keep finding ways to put your hands on him?–earning a smug grin. “None of it was covered in class and you know it!”

“See what I mean?” Sunghoon asks. “We're different, but like, a good different. We’ve adapted.”

The silence that fills the car after isn’t weighty or overbearing. It’s comfortable and common, safe like a child-loved security blanket. Yet, somehow, your stomach fills with stones of dread, and all you want to do is sleep off any bad feelings.

You keep your eyes trained ahead, the curving mountain road, when you ask, “Do you ever think we'll be bad different?

Sunghoon spares a confused glance at you, brows knit together as he switches focus between you and the road. He shakes his head. “No, not us. Never us.”

“Is that a promise?”

The hand closest to you leaves the steering wheel and drifts over the center console, pinky out. “Always.”

You wrap your pinky around his, and try to ignore the heated flush you feel creeping up your neck and the backs of your ears. You focus, instead, on how real Sunghoon feels. How solid the mixtape is in your hands. How, here out in what feels like the middle of nowhere surrounded by evergreens and roadside snow piles that have started to pop up and tall mountain views, time doesn’t feel like it can get you.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe, out here, there’s only good different.

Maybe, that’s all you need.

The clouds from the morning have turned darker, more potent. You can smell rain in the air, hear it as the wind rushes through the trees. It’s so cold though, you wonder if it will snow instead. The mountain weather you’d been looking forward to for so long.

Sunghoon knocks his shoulder into yours, cheeks pink from the cold. He swings your duffle bag towards you, letting go of the strap before you’ve gotten a good grip on it. “Your luggage,” he declares, before marching towards the hotel entrance.

You’d both decided, with your combined measly college student incomes, that wherever the last hotel would be, it needed to be the best you could afford. Standing in front of it now, styled like a fancy chateau with white walls and a red roof, you think the two of you made the right choice.

You had forgot what made such a nice place so affordable, until Sunghoon swipes the key, opens the door for you, gesturing for you to walk in first. The room is cute and delicate, with pretty yet aged wainscotting, petite floral wallpaper, a nice view of the surrounding mountains and–

And one bed.

You freeze. You can’t help it. Maybe the you from this morning, before that girl talked to you, could handle this. The you of right now? The lady at the front desk calling you a cute couple, and Sunghoon going along with it and not correcting her, didn’t help. You aren’t sure if you’re strong enough to keep everything the same.

“Rats,” Sunghoon says, and you breathe a sigh of relief. He’s not cool with this either, you think. He turns toward you with a coy smile. “I’m gonna go back downstairs and ask for more pillows. Three simply won’t cut it. Want me to ask for some fancy water?”

You shake your head, voice gone, and you don’t move until you hear the door shut behind Sunghoon.

And that’s when it starts, as you drag your feet in circles trying to think your way through this. Your hands clench and unclench, fists forming so tightly you leave half-moons from your nails in the fleshy part of your palm. Your breath comes ragged and shallow, and you feel like drowning, except from too much instead of not enough. Too many memories reminding you of too many things. Too many emotions leading to too many feelings you neither want to recognize or acknowledge.

But one keeps pushing its way to the forefront, demanding attention and definition. The one that’s been bothering you all day. It makes you dizzy, to the point you feel you need to lay down and clutch at your stomach. Maybe that’s it, you think as you sit on the edge of the one bed. You’re just sick. Breakfast was bad. But you know it’s not. It makes you angry, because how dare you feel this way about him. It makes you flustered, since you shouldn't look at your best friend's face and have your gaze wander to his lips and wonder what they'd feel like against yours.

It makes you happy, so undeniably happy that you feel like crying, because it feels so right. When you allow yourself to think more about it, and imagine what life would be like if you were able to confirm and agree with all the strangers who already think you’re dating. Lovers. It fills you up with breaths of fresh air to the point it's like floating on cotton clouds.

It makes you fearful. Its dark side claws at your heart, threatening to tear at the tender seams and leave you bloody and raw, so intensely damaged you're afraid of doing anything along the same lines. You had asked about a bad different, and Sunghoon said it wasn’t possible. Right now, you feel like you have to disagree–confessing this? Altering the relationship you’ve carefully crafted for so long?

That would be a bad different.

That’s why, when Sunghoon comes back, three more pillows and a bottle of sparkling water, you don’t answer. You roll over on the bed, curling up away from him, hiding with a pillow on your head. You hear Sunghoon say something about it being a long drive, and he gets it, you should rest. You hear him open the closet door, then feel the spare blanket get draped over you.

And, as you lay here, hot silent tears threatening to spill over and run down your cheeks, you let yourself think about it. You're in love with your best friend. Your nail-bitten palms come to swipe at your eyes, you make the mistake of sniffing aloud. Sunghoon calls your name, and you hate how much you savor the worry in his voice.

But, it’s also too much. He can’t know, you decide. Not now, not ever. That is what would be best, you decide, for the two of you. To be able to get through the rest of this trip.

“[Y/N], what is it?” he calls again. Sunghoon’s voice is laced with care, something tender and soft and so distinctly him it pulls at the tears in your eyes. How can he make this so unfair? “What's wrong?”

“You wouldn't understand,” you snap, pulling yourself to sit up, the pillow falling off. You don’t look at him, but instead at your hands, fists in your lap. Sunghoon easily notes your posture, and confusion floods his features. You hate how quickly he can figure out something’s wrong, that something is bothering you.

“Can I try to understand, at least?” You look up at him, lips pursed, tears smarting your eyes. You take him in–turned towards you in the chair, sitting on the edge, like he can jump to your rescue at any time. The confused look in his eyes hurts—you've always been straightforward with one another. But you know you can’t about this. “I can’t try to fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” 

     You shake your head, wiping one of your cheeks with your fingers, a half laugh falling from your lips. “No, Hoon it's—”

   “No.”

The force of the single word hits you, and it hurts more than the angry look in his eye.

   He stands, takes a step toward you, then sits hesitantly on the edge of the bed. He's close, and he's been closer, but it's still too much. The rushing sound is back in your ears and your heart pounds against your ribs, telling you to do something, anything, but you stay still.

   “Hoon—”

   “I said no, [Y/N].” Sunghoon’s words are ice, colder than the breeze outside and sharper than butcher knives. His eyes, once warm and homey, that romantic shade of brown you love, are now dark and piercing. “You don't get to call me special names when you aren't telling me what's wrong. When you aren't acting like the [Y/N] I've known since third grade.” His hands come up to run through his hair, and it flips slowly back into place. His voice drops, the softer, confused Sunghoon returning. “You've been acting weird this whole trip, and especially since this morning. It's driving me insane that I can't figure it out and fix it. I know you better than this.”

   He's so close, so, so close. Much too close. Somehow he’s scooted towards you on the bed. You can smell his cologne—when did he start doing that? Why hadn’t you noticed earlier? His eyes are back to the romantic brown, the warm and homey color, the ones that remind you of so many good memories—his eyes are so pretty. Your gaze follows its past patterns and drops to his lips, redder from being gnawed on with worry. A kiss would—

   A shaky breath leaves you, and you're talking before you realize, voice so small it's hard to hear. But Sunghoon is listening. He always does.

   You blink. “Do you want to know what's wrong?”

   “Of course. I need to know if I can do anything or—”

   “It's you.”

You want to be upset, angry. How dare it come to this. But you can’t, you realize. You can’t be angry at him. Whatever energy you had coursing through your veins leaves after your pseudo confession, and you turn away, resting your weight on the headboard, hoping he’ll go away. 

This, for certain, was bad different. You can feel it, weighing you down. Here, in a chilly, single bed hotel room, you’d ruined everything. Your brain told you to shut up, to be quiet, to try and save anything you could manage from this shattering relationship. But your mouth—or maybe your heart—kept going, and going, and going.

“It’s you,” you repeat, turning back towards him. He’s still there, frozen in place, face filled with concern. “It’s everything you do. The way you... you tell me bad jokes when I’m upset over a grade or make me mixtapes because you want to share your music with me. It’s–I’m–I’m sick of it. I hate it. I hate you”

Sunghoon recoils, eyes wide. He looks around the room, as if the answers to what to say are hidden around. He stands, backing up without turning away, like you’re something he has to keep his eyes on or he’ll get hurt again.

Again.

Sunghoon’s voice is flat when he speaks, like he’s out of breath. Shaky, like he’s about to cry, too. What have you done? “I’m… I’ll go downstairs and ask about if there’s anything nice around for dinner. I’ll–I’ll wait for you in the lobby. Whenever you’re ready, you know.”

Even now, after the nasty things–after I hate you left your lips–he’s still trying to make peace with you.

What did you do to ever deserve him?

And would he even stay with you once you return home?

The door falling shut is what starts your tears again. You slump down off the bed, between it and the window. You pull your knees up to your chest, put your head in your hands, and you cry.

***

It still isn’t over.

You’re breathing heavy, tears still stinging your eyes, but you aren’t sure if you’ve actually cried yet or not. Your fists are balled at your sides. Years of friendship are stuck in your throat, enough to make you want to scream or cry or vomit from the nauseous feeling it induces. The pouring rain, those clouds finally opening up, doesn’t help.

Dinner had been awful, awkward. The only person either of you talked to had been the waiter. You can’t remember what the food tasted like. You can’t remember what, if any, songs played on the radio on the way back. Sunghoon hadn’t bothered to pick anything out. All you could remember, or hear, or see in your head–I hate you. The look in his eyes. How he has barely looked at you since.

You aren’t sure what you have to do to get away, but you’d be willing to make a deal.

Anything to get away from this moment.

Anything to get away from your best friend.

Sunghoon stares at you like he’s only just now met you, and maybe he has. He’d stopped you halfway between the car and the hotel’s entrance, despite the rain. He’d called your name in such a way you froze. Your angered confession from earlier hangs in the air, untouched or acknowledged. A single parking lot light illuminates you two, dim yellow casting shadows through the rain.

“Do you mean that? What you said?” he asks, daring to step forward. You don’t move, anchored in place. By fear or something else, you aren’t sure. He takes another, then a third. The gap between you has been halved. “I know you don’t mean it. I’ve been thinking about it this whole time. You don’t mean it.”

“What makes you so sure?” you spit, taking a step closer in your upset. You level Sunghoon with a stare you hope is intimidating, bitter. You hope he sees the duress. You have to push him away. “I said what I said. I hate you, Park Sunghoon.”

The boy shakes his head, hair stuck to his forehead from the rain. He seems almost incredulous, and it angers you even more. Why doesn’t he get it? There’s a small smirk at the corners of his lips, but you’ve known him long enough to recognize it as mock confidence. “You didn’t mean what you said.”

“I did!” Another step, and now you’re nose to nose with him, staring into the eyes you’ve had memorized for so long, that romantic brown even in the rain and yellow streetlight. Your gaze betrays you and you drink in the slope of his nose, see how his eyes examine you as well. Note the downturn of his lips, almost unnoticeable. Your voice is weaker when you speak again. “I did mean it, Sunghoon.”

He leans in, closer and closer until he stops–a breath away from your lips. He freezes, closes his eyes, and waits.

And you cave, despite your best interests. You find yourself tilting your head and wishing he’d do something more. This can’t be how your first kiss with Sunghoon goes? When he pulls back, and you nearly stumble forward. You look up at him, and the smile on his face is no longer mock. You know what his question will be before he says it, and you know he’s caught you in your lie. “You hate me so much–why did you kiss me back?”

You want to spit back, I didn’t! You want to argue. But the truth is, ever since you’d remembered that day in high school, you’d been imagining what it would be like to actually kiss him, and again, and again. You wanted to know what kissing Sunghoon would be like, even if it meant redefining the relationship you worked so hard to keep as is. The one you said you hated him to protect.

Sunghoon gently cups the sides of your face, forcing you to look at him, and you see worry and concern etched into the space between his brows, spilt in the color of his eyes. “Tell me,” he whispers, voice almost breaking, “what’s wrong. Let me try to fix it.”

You shake your head, trying to form words to explain everything, but all you do is shiver drastically beneath his touch. You watch as Sunghoon’s eyes grow wide, and he leads you inside, arm over your shoulder. The woman at the front desks awards you a quirked eyebrow, but that’s all you get before she returns to her clipboard.

The room is icy cold when you return, but Sunghoon adjusts the temperature in silence. “You get dry first,” he says, pointing at the bathroom. “Take a shower and get warm.”

“But about you?” You want to point out the subtle shake in his hands, and the way his breath catches. “There’s not enough towels to share.”

“I’ll ask for more at the front desk. I’ll be fine. Go.”

The shower water never feels hot enough, but you do stop shivering. You do your best to towel dry your hair. When you peek the door open to see if he’s back, and if you could get your things, you see that Sunghoon has already done it for you. Everything you could need taken from your bag, folded and placed nicely right outside the door. You have no idea when he did it–you’re thankful he did.

When he comes back with extra towels–which, surely, did not take this long–you’re curled up on the bed, similar to before. You rest your weight on the headboard, looking out the window at how the rain patters against the glass. You wish you could see the stars.

Sunghoon is fast, but who’s to say? You aren’t exactly keeping track of time. You know he’s back because you feel the mattress shift. His voice is almost silent when he speaks. “Can we talk?”

“About what?” you ask, turning towards him. You haven’t seen Sunghoon look this tired in a while. And you know it’s your fault. “How I was mean to you?”

Sunghoon smiles, looking down at his clasped hands. He takes a moment to determine what he actually wants to say. “Let’s start with…what it is about me that made you say that?”

His eyes are pleading in the dark. The room is barely lit, the overhead light off. There’s just a lamp on the desk and the streetlight from outside. The rain sound is almost overwhelming in the silence. “If there’s something I’ve done that hurt you–”

“It’s not that. It’s–” You pause, trying to find the right thing to say. You decide to start with the obvious. “There’s a reason I kissed you outside.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because I’m charming and irresistible.”

“This is serious!” You do what you always do when he makes some kind of quip–you reach out to push his shoulder, scooting closer, but Sunghoon catches you by your wrist.

“I am serious. Do you know how much you hurt me when you said you hated me?” He levels you a stare, one that makes you want to shrink away, but you can’t. “When I left, I didn’t ask the front desk about restaurants. I went to my car and sat down and cried because the person I love just said they hated me.”

“You love me?”

“Not like that,” he corrects, and now you have to know what he means.

“Tell me how then.” You take your free hand and grab his other wrist, a mirror of what he’s done to you. “When you say you love me, what do you mean?”

“It’s not like you think, not like what it has been.” Sunghoon looks down, takes a deep breath, then carries on.  “Not like friends, or like siblings, but like–”

“Lovers?” you offer.

Sunghoon swallows, sets his jaw. Then, “Yes. Like that. And I don’t know when it happened. I don’t know if it was overnight or gradual or all at once. I do know that I woke up one morning and I realized that I didn’t want to imagine my future with anyone else. And I didn’t want to see you with anyone else, either.”

“Kinda selfish,” you say.

Sunghoon laughs. “Yeah. I couldn’t help it.”

Somehow, you’ve both moved closer to each other. The knees of your crossed legs knock into each other. You still have a hold on the other’s wrist. Sunghoon levels you another stare. “Will you tell me why?”

“Why I said I hated you?” He nods, and you take a deep sigh. “Do you remember the night we snuck into the pool to get my car keys back?”

He nods again, a small smile on his face. “You mean the first night I got enough courage to kiss you? You looked so pretty, with the pearls and the perfume.”

You blush, hearing Sunghoon talk about you like that. “That night. I’ve been thinking a lot about it. And you know how all these people always say we look like a couple or whatever. And it all just stuck together and made me realize that I haven’t seen you like a friend in a long time. I’ve seen you like–”

“A lover?” Sunghoon offers, copying you from earlier.

You smile. “I said I hated you because I was afraid and overwhelmed, and I need you away from me. I thought that if you hated me, I could get over you and just move on. We could make up, and I wouldn’t have these feelings anymore, and we could go back to being friends.

“But if I’m being honest,” you add, moving even closer. Your shoulders knock into one other. “Even though it wasn’t even that long, those hours over dinner just now were some of the worst things I have ever had to do. I was ugly to you, Sunghoon, and you’re the last person on earth who would ever deserve to be talked to that way. But if you could forgive me, I…”

You try to look down again, but Sunghoon lets go of your wrist to place a finger under your chin, tipping your head up to his gaze. “You what?”

“I love you. I’m in love with you, I’ve been in love with you. I love you, Park Sunghoon.” You take a deep breath, just as lightning strikes somewhere far away and the thunder rumbles through the room. 

Sunghoon reaches out for you, his hands reach cupping your face again. It’s the most reverent you’ve ever seen him. His eyes roam over your every feature, as if you’ll break if he breathes too hard. It’s thrilling. “Genuinely?” he asks, voice fragile. “You love me?”

“Yes,” you whisper. It feels wrong to be too loud right now, like someone else could join in this moment between the two of you. “And if you would have me, I’d like to love you for a long time after this.”

Sunghoon pulls you to him, resting your forehead against his. He takes a deep breath. Then, “We’ve both just been really, really stupid about it, haven’t we?”

You laugh, savoring his touch and his warm and his smile. You stare into his eyes, those romantic brown ones you love so much. “I guess so.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and your heart jumps. “I know we did outside, but that’s a terrible story for a first kiss.”

“And the one from so long ago doesn’t count, because you just gave me a kiss then,” you say, not sure why you’re rambling when you have the opportunity to just kiss him already.

So, you shut up, and you do.

This kiss is reverent, unlike any that came before. You probably shouldn’t even bother comparing them. Maybe it’s the intentions behind the kiss—that you both want to be here, doing this, for the sake of just being, not proving. Maybe it’s because it hasn’t followed any dramatic late night outings or arguments. Maybe, it’s how you shiver closer to his frame, hands on his shoulders, and his own find the small of your back. You feel his smile against your lips, and the butterflies against your ribs.

Maybe, you should have said something a while ago. You could have avoided the whole I hate you stint, but then would anything else have been dramatic? Some couples are like puzzle pieces, perfectly fitting together with no stress. And maybe you two are a puzzle, one that fits together with ease, but you both intentionally hid pieces from the other, making it difficult to complete. Maybe airing grievances is the only way to get all the pieces back on the table.

You sigh as Sunghoon’s lips travel from your own down the line of your jaw, tickling in a delightful way. You feel safe in his arms, a safe you’ve always felt, but now it feels like something more, something even greater. Your heart jumps, and you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him close. Sunghoon instinctively holds you tighter, his hands against your shoulder blades.

“What is it?” he asks.

You shake your head, finding any words to be incredibly difficult. “I’m just—I’m glad.”

Sunghoon pulls back gently, quirking his head to one side as he looks at you. He uses the pad of his thumb to gently wipe away a stray tear. “Glad for what?” he asks, still cupping your cheek.

You lean into his touch, feeling dizzy with excitement and relief. “Glad that it’s you,” you say, your voice quiet. You lean in, placing a chaste kiss against his lips and, for once, he’s the one to shiver. “I’m glad you’re the one I love. Glad we’re here now, finally.”

Sunghoon pauses. His eyes dart between yours, your lips, and back. He rests his forehead on yours again, and you can already imagine getting used to this, and craving it when you can’t have it. “I waited so long, and I didn’t even know if...” There’s a catch in his voice, and he sounds like he’s about to cry. When he opens his eyes, there’s an honesty to them, a gaze you’ve only seen in Sunghoon’s eyes a handful of times. He smiles, his eyes going soft once more, like you are the most beautiful thing he has ever beheld. And to him, you are. “I always knew we were meant to be.”

***

The lady behind the desk did, in fact, look at you two like you were crazy. The night before you were acting like you were gonna tear each other to pieces. But now you’re walking out in each other’s arms? His around your shoulder, yours around his waist?

The sun is out, and there’s hardly any evidence of the downpour from last night. Maybe the earth needed to be just as dramatic as the two of you.

With the luggage in back, you two climb into the front seats. Sunghoon leans over the center console to press a kiss to your temple, just like he did when you woke up in each other’s arms and just like he did when he insisted on getting you whatever you wanted for breakfast.

“That’s not something new though?” you laugh, as he brings you small portions of everything the hotel had to offer. “You did this before.”

“Well, it’s obviously different now,” he replies. “I didn’t get to kiss you before.”

Now, Sunghoon taps at the Valentine heart on the dash–your wanderlist. What started this all. “We need a new one,” he says. “It took us a while, but we did everything on here. Should the new one be full of cringey couple things?”

“Only if you’d like to go back to being single.”

Sunghoon fakes shock as he shifts the car into gear. “You wouldn’t.”

This time, you lean over to give him a kiss, and you relish how quickly he blushes. “You’re right, I wouldn’t.” You sit back down, still turned towards him, hand atop his. “Maybe, we make the list up as we go. I mean, we’ve never been here before.”

“Didn’t stop third grade us,” he says. “Honestly, they seemed like they had everything together. We should think more like third grade us.”

“You mean complaining about how much things cost? Because I can think of so many things we could do together that would put major dents in our wallets.”

Sunghoon turns to you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and you know you’ve got this right, even if it took a while to get here. He reaches over, poking your cheek, before turning out of the parking lot. “Then let’s go find it, together.”

#kdiarynet #kwritersworld #kflixnet #k-labels #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarioes #enhypen imagines #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon headcanons #sunghoon scenarioes #sunghoon imagines #enhypen #fluff #angst #college!au #ftl

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐀 𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐧

To foster and encourage growth, you had to first begin with a seed — a start of a new life, the beginnings of a story. It was similar to how you met your husband if only a little unorthodox, but who were you to question a newfound tradition?

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ☼ Farmer!Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ☼ 1.5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ☼ Fluff ჻჻჻ TROPES: Meet Cute

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ☼ Colton is the best wingman. Fight me.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ☼ Fire by Noah Gunderson

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ☼ @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer ჻჻჻ Week 8 — "How did you meet?" — Masterlist

𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 ‘𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The morning was crisp, and the sun was bright, the beginnings of a new, hopeful day – one that you were excited to see the outcome. It was a Sunday, and the Farmer’s Market was in full swing of being set up. Even Bucky had elected to come and help on this occasion instead of working on the farm.

“Where do you want this?” Bucky asked, large crate in hand, this one full to the brim of your famous peaches. 

You pointed to the end of your table. “Over there, please,” you replied. Bucky nodded and placed the crate down with a huff. “Thank you.”

“It’s lookin’ good, sweetheart,” Bucky said abruptly, right over your shoulder. You gasped quietly in surprise and turned to stare at him. “What?”

“Stop scaring the shit outta me,” you sniped, slapping his arm. “We’ve got shit to do now, c’mon.”

Bucky sighed and continued lugging crates from the bed of the truck to the stand, all while people started flooding the square, milling about the stands of produce and haggling for bargains. 

An older woman, the greying strands of hair at her temples bright under the morning sun, stopped at your stall just as you finished setting up the jars of jam. “Hey there,” you greeted, beaming at her. “What can I get for you today?”

“Just some jam, love,” she said. You nodded and collected a couple of jars just as Bucky dropped the last crate with a groan. The older woman smiled at him as he stood behind you.

“All loaded, baby,” Bucky breathed, kissing you on the cheek. You nodded and pointed to a chair, indicating he should sit for a minute (if only to get him out of the way). “Damn right ‘m gonna sit after the hard work you made me do.”

“Ignore my husband,” you breathed, shaking your head.

The older woman laughed. “How did you two meet? I’ve seen you in these parts before, and everyone loves you both.”

Bucky laughed. “It’s my damn horse’s fault, ma’am,” he said, “the bastard was gone on her from the very first second.”

You rolled your eyes as the memory flashed through your mind.  

The old truck you had borrowed from a friend rumbled down the road, gravel, and stone kicking up in its wake – the bitumen long overdue for a patch job. 

It did add to the charm of your small town, though. Your family had spent generations farming the land and supporting the local economy by running endless farmer’s markets – a tourist hotspot, if you did say so yourself, especially going by the recent uptick in new arrivals. 

The recent overtake of Parker’s Provisions by the newcomers , May and Peter Parker, had been a successful move – both having been welcomed and adored in equal measure by the townsfolk, Peter especially. That firecracker of a young man always made your day, rain or shine, and you were looking forward to your weekly supply run for the animals back home. 

Though, the sight of a horse hitched at the front of the sprawling lot of buildings that made up the Parker’s Production lot was a shock. It wasn’t often that the ranchers and farmers on the outskirt properties actually rode into town. Instead, they always elected to bring their trucks and trailers. 

Your truck came to a shuddering stop when you parked, and you killed the engine, taking just a moment to marvel at the horse hitched. It was a stallion, his face soft and kind, but his body was a whole other story. Muscles rippled and twitched as he stood while waiting for his rider – the build of a Quarter Horse very much evident in the stance of the creature. A barrel or cattle mount, you couldn’t quite tell. 

His coat was a chocolate brown, with splashes of white over his flanks and legs, and a thick, pretty stripe adorned his face. 

You couldn’t help but feel that while he looked at you, he was staring straight into you – deep into your being to reveal secrets and mysteries you kept hidden from the world.

It was unnerving, though assuring in the way that being seen was. 

The driver’s door opened with a squeak, and you slid out of the truck and into the hot summer air outside. People milled about with bags and baskets, each one waving a small hello, and you smiled back at everyone politely. A loud voice inside the closest shed told you Peter was on site today, and you smiled. 

“Hey, Pete!” you called, and a brunette mop of hair peeked around the doorway. 

“Hey! Just a sec, I’ll be out with you soon,” Peter yelled back, disappearing again.

You chuckled and made to step towards the stallion, hand outstretched. “Hey, handsome–aren’t you a sight, huh?” The horse snorted, twitched his ears, and stared at you. “I know it’s hot out, but you look like your rider takes good care of you.”

Slowly, the stallion stretched his head out and sniffed the air around your hand, and once he made contact, the soft skin of his muzzle tickled your palm. “You’re just gorgeous,” you breathed, scratching his chin gently. 

“Well, well, well–ain’t every day he finds a Peach he likes,” a voice drawled behind you, and you startled, spinning around on the spot. “Easy, love,” the man said, hands outstretched. “No harm done.”

“I’m sorry, I just- He’s gorgeous,” you rushed, hand over your heart. The man smiled and shook his head, the movement freeing his long hair from behind his ears. Taking a second, you took in the stranger. He was wearing a white tank top that was far too tight, a plaid jacket, and a pair of light jeans with boots – his hair was half up in a bun while the other half hung around his face, sticking to his skin from the sweat of a hot day. 

“He is. A good horse, too,” the man said, still smiling. He walked closer, dug into his saddle bag, and pulled out his wallet. “Aren’t you, Colton? Lettin’ a pretty Peach love on you like that, huh?”

Colton snorted and nudged your shoulder, evidently displeased you stopped paying him attention. You chuckled and pet his neck, feeling the strong muscles under his skin. “A very good horse, indeed.”

The man grinned and shoved his wallet into his back pocket, then he offered you his hand to shake. “I’m Bucky, by the way–too distracted by the fact that my asshole of a horse actually lettin’ someone near ‘im that’s not me.”

This time you laughed, shaking Bucky’s hand and offering your name in return. “It’s nice seeing a fellow rancher out and about with his prize; makes me miss having my own,” you commented, slightly wistful. It had been years since you had owned a horse. 

“I honestly jus’ couldn’t be bothered goin’ back home to get my truck, and Colton needed the exercise anyway, so.” Bucky shrugged. “Best be gettin’ back inside. Stuff won’t pay for itself.”

“Okay,” you said, “I best be going in there too. I have to pick up my order.”

“Oh!” Bucky exclaimed. Then, to your absolute and utter shock, he offered you his arm. “Together then?”

“Well, alright,” you laughed, placing your arm through his. “Why not.”

It was an hour later that you strode back through the doors to your truck, arms full with bags of feed while Bucky and Peter trailed behind you with their own arms full of bags – having had offered to help you carry, and you couldn’t resist the sight of seeing Bucky’s arms bulge under the strain. 

And Lord above, he did not disappoint. 

“Alright, that’s it, miss,” Peter huffed, heaving a bag into the truck’s bed. “See you next week, yeah?”

“Absolutely, Pete, thanks,” you called, waving to the young man’s retreating back. You turned to Bucky, smiling. “Well, it was good to meet you, Bucky.”

Bucky grinned. “Likewise, sugar. You should come and have coffee sometime.” He turned to Colton. “I know that bastard would love it if you came and fed him some peaches or somethin’–greedy sonofabitch,” he laughed, shaking his head at the hilariously deadpan expression on his stallion’s face. 

“I would love to.” The words tumbled from your mouth before you could stop them, and you inwardly sighed. So much for subtlety. “It would be great. How about tomorrow? We can have lunch.”

“Sounds perfect to me, Peach,” Bucky said happily, saluting. “You get home safe now, I’ll come pick you up tomorrow–where do you live?”

You recited your address and smiled nervously, watching as Bucky mounted Colton and turned him around. “I expect all the stops pulled out, mister,” you joked, pointing at him. 

“Can’t disappoint ya, honey–promise,” Bucky joked, “see you tomorrow!”

Colton snorted and started a slow trot away, Bucky’s hand loosely holding the reins as the stallion moved away and turned a corner, out of sight.  

“He’s a decent boy,” a voice said behind you, and you jumped. May was smirking at you from the office. “Always kind and sweet–should give it a go, honey, can’t hurt.”

“You’re right,” you conceded a soft smile on your lips. “Can’t hurt. He ain’t bad to look at, either.”

May laughed and waved goodbye, and you jumped back into your truck, already thinking of all the ways tomorrow could go – or how it would end.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #hotbuckysummer2023 #rookthorne's works

[little-miss-vader]

Masterlist & Navigation

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝ ⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝ ⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Hey there! I’m Crow (she/her) and I thought it was about time to start a Masterlist :)

⚝ This is an 18+ blog! Minors please don’t interact or I’ll hex you.

⚝ My inbox is open for requests but I cannot promise I will get to it quickly. I read everything y’all send, especially requests so don’t be discouraged if I don’t publicly respond!

⚝ I also love making friends. Dm me or shoot me something fun in my inbox :)

⚝ I have a list of what I’m comfortable writing below so you don’t have to inbox me or dm me to ask unless what you’re looking for isn’t on the list!

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝ ⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝ ⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

What I do/do not write!

Characters I am open to writing for:

The number of stars out of 5 represent how willing I am to write them

⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝ Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader

⚝ ⚝ ⚝ Obi-Wan Kenobi

⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝ The Mandolorian/Din Djarin

⚝ ⚝ Padmé Amidala

⚝ ⚝ ⚝ Kylo Ren

⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝ Poe Dameron

⚝ ⚝ ⚝ Ahsoka Tano (MANDALORIAN/AHSOKA ERA ONLY.)

⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝ The 501st boys

⚝ ⚝ ⚝ Commander Cody

⚝ ⚝ Commander Wolfe

If you don’t see a character but have a good enough request, I might bend the rules and write the character! It never hurts to ask :)

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝ ⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝ ⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Kinks/Tropes

I will be categorizing this by colour, green meaning I will absolutely write it, yellow meaning the circumstances might differ me from writing it, red meaning I will absolutely not be writing it.

Green:

⚝ Bdsm

⚝ Daddy/Mommy kink

⚝ Breath Play

⚝ Mutual Pining

⚝ Knifeplay

⚝ Breeding Kink

⚝ Infidelity Kink

⚝ Corruption Kink

⚝ Enemies to Lovers

⚝ Forceplay (As in The Force, not coercion/rape)

⚝ Age Gaps (I’ll only write age gaps if both are consenting adults)

⚝ Normal stuff is my jam. Fluff, angst, romance, regular ass smut. The green isn’t as important because I’m okay with writing almost 90% of kinks and tropes. Yellow and red however, are mostly what I made this list for.

Yellow:

⚝ Polyamory (I’m not polyamorous and idk how it works so I don’t feel entirely comfortable writing about it as it might not be accurate/correct.)

⚝ Saberplay

⚝ Dubcon/Noncon (the only time I’ll write it is if there is consent beforehand)

⚝ Bloodplay

⚝ Ships (idk not a fan. I like writing reader inserts. I might make an exception for AniDala)

⚝ Anal (I personally just can’t get behind it but I understand the allure.)

Red:

⚝ Incest of any kind (step-cest included)

⚝ Rape

⚝ Piss/Scat

⚝ Omegaverse

⚝ Suicide

⚝ Self-Harm

⚝ Eating Disorders (I honestly tend to keep mental illnesses out of my writing for the most part, I like my fantasy worlds to be an escape, not a reminder)

⚝ Age Play (Age gaps are different, I’m fine with those. I will not however sexualize or romanticize infantilism)

⚝ ObiKin (I mean it)

⚝ AniSoka (Do not ever ask me for this I actually might block you.)

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝ ⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝ ⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Character Lists!

Anakin Skywalker

One Shots/Series:

Dueling Fates: Pt.1 & Pt.2

His Best Girl

Maker, Save The Queen

As You Wish

Gentle Hands

Ask Nicely (Hayden Christensen, if I write more for him I’ll give him his own section lol)

Driven to You (Anakin AU)

Unbreakable Bonds Pt. 1

Drabbles:

Flowers

Perfume

Songs that remind me of Anakin are all under the tag #anakins playlist

There are more drabbles but they’re scattered around, I’ll add them in when I have time 🫶🏼

#crows master list #Thank you guys again for even taking a moment to read my work #i love u all fr

[not-soup-333]

Hobie Brown x Musician!Reader headcanons

While I'm writing part two for the other fic I'm writing (which should be the final part btw!) Here are some headcanons because I'm not letting this trope go as a musician.

Gn!reader, fluff, small mentions of injury but not in detail, tried to keep what instrument you play vague

Right off the bat Hobie loves jamming with you. It doesn't even have to be an actual song, it can just be the two of you going back and forth on your respective instruments. He adores just even getting to watch you play, since he finds something magical about the way you interact with the instrument.

You and Hobie go to various music stores all the time too. It can be a local record store or a small business selling music supplies and no matter what he'll buy some small gift for you. It could be some guitar strings with the promise to make you something out of his old ones when they snap, or an album that neither of you had ever heard before, but no matter what he's buying something. If it's a chain, Hobie will steal the basics needed for any instrument for you, whether it's batteries for a tuner or new drum sticks he's always able to snag you whatever you need.

At your shows, Hobie's always relatively quiet, hanging in the back, but the moment you're off the stage he's by your side telling everyone how he was so lucky to be dating the most talented musician he'd ever met. Along with that, if anyone tries to come up and flirt with you or anything after the show, he can get pretty possessive while still being happy to talk about you and your music. His arm will be around your shoulders or his hand at your waist while enthusiastically telling them about you, making sure to explicitly say you're dating more than once.

If you ever harm yourself while playing your instrument, Hobie's there as soon as he can be. He's nursing your wounds and kissing them softly while simultaneously telling you to be more careful or else it might not be fixable next time. It both drives you crazy and makes your heart skip a beat with how much he cares for you and your love of music.

If you show him the video of the couple exchanging guitars instead of rings at their wedding, he's automatically starting to search for one as a gift for you. Even if you don't play, he's more than happy to teach you. One day, a few months after you show him he appears at your doorstep out of the blue and gives you a guitar that already has some stickers on it. "I wanted to leave you space to make it your own, but also give you something of me." Is his response when you ask him about it in the future.

During his gigs, you're off to the side of the stage watching most of the time, it's not the best for the audio, most of what you can hear is the PA (The speakers used so the band can hear the music) but you prefer the seat, since between songs any time he looks side stage you know it's you he's glancing at.

Hobie constantly makes you gifts out of old or broken guitar equipment, since a big fan of upcycling things, you have more than one pick necklace for sure. However, this also means that your apartment is piled up with broken shit until he finds the time or remembers to make it, which is usually when something else breaks.

Along with the previous one, any old band t-shirts are saved to recycle the fabric for patches, and the designs get pinned to the wall to act as sound dampening for recording.

#hobie brown #across the spiderverse #atsv #hobie brown x you #spider punk #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x musician!reader #I have so many more of these if you guys want more fr fr #hobie brown x gn!reader

[born-to-lose]

Drunk Christmas

Pairing: Slash x reader

Requested by @gloomy-blonde

Summary: You and Slash are invited to a Christmas party, but after a short while, he gets drunk. Way too drunk.

Tags: alcohol, Christmas, fluff

Words: 651

A/N: My favourite drunk trope is the sappy drunk trope in case you couldn't tell

Tag list: @warriorteam1924 @slashscowboyboots @losers-yurio @lost-in-the-80s @jennyggggrrr @tuffduff @jonesyownsmyheart @rhyetaylor62 @smells-like-perfect-senses @whered0wego @rumoured-whispers @th0mas-jerome-newton @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker @dumbass-of-darkness @cherry-jams

Tip me if you want!

You were invited to a Christmas party and of course, you took your boyfriend Slash with you. There were going to be some friends and acquaintances you hadn't seen in a while and you were very excited to finally introduce him to them all.

The party started off really well, many people recognized you and were happy to see you, everyone was asking about who the man you brought with you was - even people you originally didn't know yourself but they knew your friends, and you all got to catch up on each other's lives. The Christmas music playing in the background wasn't the same five songs that were overplayed at every shopping mall, the food was good, the decorations were pretty, there weren't any fights like at most family gatherings - perfect so far.

While you only had a few glasses of mulled wine over the course of the evening because that's what you do at Christmas parties, your boyfriend kept going to the bar more frequently - and he didn't stick with only wine, either.

This led to him being drunk after only a little over an hour. Way too drunk, actually. Not quite embarrassing, but also not the normal blood alcohol level you usually have at this kind of event. You were just thankful that tonight the horny drunk side of him didn't prevail, but rather the sappy drunk side.

You noticed him grinning at you for a while and you turned your head to look at him, slightly raising your eyebrow as you waited for what he wanted to say. "Mistletoe kiss?"

"We can't have a mistletoe kiss when there isn't a mistletoe."

"Imagine one. Gimme a kiss," he insisted, leaning closer to you and puckering his lips.

"Not now," you said, trying to continue the conversation one of your friends had started with you earlier.

He backed away, his eyes wide. "Oh God, you're taken!"

"I am," you said after a pause, realizing that he really was too drunk now.

Following your statement, Slash stayed silent, an empty look in his eyes. You took this opportunity to answer the question you had been asked a couple of minutes ago.

However, you didn't get very far because after a moment, he put his arm around you and started kissing your cheek and burying his face in your neck. You rolled your eyes, although you secretly found his behavior adorable.

As it got late, the other guests were getting more and more annoyed, even if they tried not to show it too much because they didn't want to offend you and about everyone here knew what it was like to be drunk and act stupid.

"I think Slash and I are gonna go home," you excused yourself, taking his hand and getting up from the sofa before you started saying your goodbyes to the people you knew. "It was so nice to see you all again, have a great rest of the night!"

Outside you walked around the street corner to find a quieter place. You had come by car, but you didn't want to drive after the couple of drinks you had. Besides, you couldn't have Slash bothering you in the passenger seat while you were trying to drive without causing an accident.

"Let's get you home, love," you sighed after you hung up and started waiting for the taxi.

He nodded and after a pause, he said quietly, "I'm sorry for embarrassing you."

You brushed some hair out of his face and cupped his cheek, looking into his eyes. "Baby… you didn't embarrass me, it's okay. They've been drunk before too, I have lots of stories to tell about their clubbing days in college," you laughed, trying to cheer him up a little.

Slash smiled at that too, blinking before giving you a kiss on the lips. "I love you," he slurred, but you knew he meant it.

#mel writes #slash #slash x reader #slash imagine #slash fic #saul hudson #saul hudson x reader #saul hudson imagine #saul hudson fic #guns n roses #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses imagine #guns n roses fic

[dramalets]

2024 Watch List pt1

Here we go again!

To sir, with love - This is a lakorn so it's appropriately dramatic. The mothers are absolutely foul and do an awful lot of scheming and yelling. Jam/Film are intensely watchable and make wet fish kisses look terribly romantic. Tongtong Kitsakorn as Yang was a revelation. I'm sad he's pm just a lakorn actor/pop star because he is so watchable. I loved that, though they were evil and insane, the mothers all felt fleshed out and realised. You understood why they were yikes. 3½/5 (2/1/23)

A Boss & a Babe - I quit this at episode 2 and then decided to go back to it. I don’t regret doing so. This isn’t top tier but it’s also not shit tier. Cher, the very dictionary definition of toxic positivity, and Gun, an autism coded cat man, enter into an extremely quick romance (like seriously, it’s taken hard worn lesbians longer to say I love you) the catch being they’re intern and company boss. Honestly in another drama that would have been the the huge hiccup of the series, keeping them apart, but it’s consistently shown to be more of an issue for others that it is for them. This is very low conflict, mostly romcom fluff with two weirdly intense, barely explored side stories for support characters. I didn’t loath Force in this and would actually like him to be given more roles where he’s just a soft simp and not a boring sarcastic one. Book does some good comedy work here. 3/5 (4/1/23)

The day I loved you - I know this won’t work for everyone. It’s a bittersweet ten episode love story between a boy with ASL and the ‘rebel’ exchange student at his school. Pinoy BL, for me, either really hits or really misses and this hit. It does use a questionable model of disability, namely the inspiration model, but I cant nit pick too much when this is only ten 15/20 minute episodes. I enjoyed it a lot, you may also if you’re okay with a bittersweet ending vs an out and out happy one. 3½/5 (12/1/24)

VIP Only - Well this was adorable. Slow as molasses and just as sweet. This probably won’t be for everyone, very slow and not much happens other than character growth and a love story, but it worked for me. The edit is horrendous in places and I do wish Taiwan did longer episodes, but those are my only gripes. 3½/5 (19/1/24)

I cannot reach you - I don’t really watch Jbl. There are just styles and tropes that I don’t enjoy watching that Japan uses a lot of. It’s a taste thing more than it is anything else. So keep that in mind. This is full of a lot of the things I don’t like; over action, randomly running everywhere, sudden non-con. But it’s also endearingly sweet and very well acted, so I did find myself enjoying it. I don’t think this’ll awaken a desire to watch lots of Jbl but it has made me consider some others. 3/5 (20/1/24)

Last Twilight - I had a lot of fun with this. The dialogue and acting were all top notch and, as ever with Aof productions, it was stunning to look at. It weaves the story of two broken people healing one another very well with Jimmy & Sea doing beautiful work as Mhok & Day. I think this came a little unstuck at points in the end. I liked most of the romance movie style ending but I remain a little unsure about Day’s ending. Still, this is a show that I enjoyed every week and will have no issues rewatching. 4/5 (26/1/24)

Old Fashion Cupcake - I’m working on trying out more JBL to get a feel for what I do and don’t like. This? This I like. We don’t have enough stories about older people anyway and this does it well. Togawa’s slow courting of Nozue through shared experiences and casual intimacy is delicious to watch. 4/5 (4/2/24)

Pit Babe - I love when I show wholly knows what it is and doesn’t try and be anything but that. This knew it was a big ol’ fanfic and leaned wholeheartedly into that. Whether it was the breeding program subplot or the consistently dumb toothpaste and sausage ppl it handled them both with equal aplomb. It’s also worth noting that was largely really well acted too! Pavel, Nut & Sailub particularly impressed me but there was nobody bad. 4/5 (9/2/24)

Our Dining Table - My journey into JBL continues and this was the best one yet. Soft pining between two sad boy leads with a gorgeous found family story woven in. The treacle slow courting between these two won’t be for everyone but it was wholly for me. 5/5 (17/2/24)

Cooking Crush - The edit on this was criminally bad at points, sometimes I truly felt I’d skipped a part and I hadn’t at all, but it still served up a good little story. If you’re visiting this for the romance it’s not really that, the story is in the friends and their lives more than it is in Ten & Prem’s romance. I loved the comedy in this, it hit those notes well and was never over the top. (Lots of puns that I expect are super good if you speak Thai.) Nobody is bad in this, everyone delivers, but OffGun are as watchable as they always are and the few kisses they do have are perfect. 3/5 (18/2/24)

The Novelist - When I say I don’t love JBL it’s usually because the tropes are just too tropey for my tastes. Apparently I’m a lying liar who lies because this is extremely Japanese and I loved every moody second of it. Kijima is a sad, lonely, messed up man who doesn’t think he’s deserving of anything good and it’s wildly compelling to watch. 4/5 (18/2/24)

Mood Indigo - Fucked up 4 Fucked up. Two broken, sad, lonely men mess up repeatedly, and erotically, that’s it that’s the show and I ate it up with a spoon. Deeply flawed assholes being toxic together, when it’s well written and well acted, is so disgustingly watchable to me and this certainly was. 5/5 (18/2/24)

The Novelist: Playback - Continues where The Novelist ends. I watched the clean version of this, it was what was available to me, and was still deeply entertained. So if you think people watch this series for the heat then you’re incorrect. This is another instalment of Kijima Rio being a horribly broken fuck up of a man. I loved it. 4/5 (21/2/24)

Tokyo in April is… - I love a good destined to be together trope when it’s done well and this is done beautifully. Kazuma and Ren fall in love as teenagers and are separated before finding one another again as adults. The pacing on this is a little rough, I get what they were doing with the sub-plot but it felt mildly unneeded and time would have been better given to exploring our leads generally or even Ren’s painful family issues. This is still a lovely drama that I wholly recommend. 4/5 (21/2/24)

#jen rambles #to sir with love #a boss and a babe #the day I loved you #VIP only #I cannot reach you #last twilight #old fashion cupcake #pit babe #our dining table #cooking crush #The Novelist #Mood Indigo #playback #tokyo in april is...

[scentedstrangercreation]

An Indecent Proposal

Absolutely self-indulgent fluff. Fake proposal trope 🤡

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

The wrench slipped from Garrus’ hand, bouncing off the thanix’s compressors and sliding beneath the cannon.

“Dammit.”

He crouched down and sprawled onto his back to slide under the battery. The opening was too narrow for his carapace, so he could only lean against it and stretch out his arm. His talons just barely grazed the tip of the wrench, spinning it hopelessly in place. Garrus sighed, tapping his head against the cannon’s base. His omnitool pinged on the opposite arm. He turned his head and watched the red light blink in its slow, deliberate rhythm. There was no point in checking who it was from. He’d only just spoken to his father yesterday, and the message had been clear: It’s time to stop playing mercenary and come home. There was a position ready for him on Palaven, a good service role. One that would make his family proud. The past few years would be forgotten—the Normandy, his time on Omega, Cerberus. Even the battle at the Citadel was becoming a distant memory everyone wanted buried. The bottom line was that the council wanted to move on—and Shepard was becoming a liability. The light pulsed again. He wasn’t sure why he bothered putting off his response. Turians didn’t make requests. Garrus was being given an order—an opportunity—and there was only one answer. Yes, sir. The door to the battery hissed open. “Garrus?” Shepard entered the room and the door shut behind her. He tried to sit up, forgetting his arm was still jammed beneath the Thanix, and slammed into the steaming pipes, “Spirits,” he grunted, extracting his arm. “Sleeping on the job?” Shepard crouched down beside him. “We didn’t all get a palatial suite.” He squinted up into the light as Shepard came into focus above him. “How’s the face holding up?” she gestured around her jaw. Garrus sat up, touching the bandages around his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll still be pretty.” “Thank god.” She offered her hand and he pulled himself up, “Wouldn't want you scaring the children.” He should have laughed, said something quippy back, but he was out of practice. Instead, he just stared at her for a minute in silence. He still wasn’t used to it—to her. Shepard was here. She was alive. He didn’t like thinking about it too much. Part of him was worried that if he wasn’t careful, he might wake up. Garrus shook the thought from his mind and cleared his throat, “What do you need?” Shepard held up a data pad, “Just wanted to go over—” Garrus’ omnitool pinged three times in quick succession. “You need to take that?” “At some point.” he dismissed the messages without looking. She looked at him curiously, but didn’t say anything. “It’s—nothing. Just…” he’d have to tell her eventually. He just wasn’t sure when…or how. She tapped the data pad against her leg and tilted her head slightly. He could tell she wanted to say more. But at Miranda's request, she had been practicing her…restraint. He smiled. It was like she had to physically restrain each word before they bullied their way out of her mouth. “Actually, we can do this later.” She gestured with the pad, “Want a drink?” He waved her off, “I should probably get back to—” “If you say calibrations, I’ll vent the battery.” “Well, I won’t say it then.” “Come on, don’t make me beg.” She turned around and started walking as if he’d already agreed, “have a drink with me.” “It’s actually been more threatening than begging.” “Oh, good. Then you’ll take it seriously.”

Shepard’s cabin was garishly large. He knew she agreed. The fish tank held nothing but water and the entire back half of the room was left untouched. He suspected she didn’t even use the bed, with its corners pulled taut and undisturbed. The contrast against the couch was almost cartoonish. It was clearly a hive of activity, dwarfed beneath a mountain of clutter. There were signs of small, abandoned projects strewn about: stacks of tablets, an omnitool’s motherboard exposed and connected to a desktop by frayed wires, her sniper disassembled and half-polished. His gaze continued about the room before settling on Shepard, rustling around in a small cabinet. "Look what I’ve got.” She retreated from the cabinet, two glasses and a bottle of something dark in her hands. She tossed it to Garrus. He caught the bottle, twisting it in his hand to see the label and released a low whistle. “Guess working with Cerberus has its perks.” He joked, flaring his mandibles and holding the bottle out to her. “Guess so,” she took it back and filled up a glass, passing it over before filling her own. “To the perks,” she said, gently knocking her glass against his. Not hard enough to spill it, but enough to make a sound. A ‘cheers’ she’d called it before. It always surprised Garus how many casual little rituals humans had. They enjoyed the first sip in silence. She released a groan and sank back into the couch, “Don’t tell Chakwas, but this is so much better than brandy.” “Your secret’s safe with me,” he walked over to the empty tank. Even without fish, it was relaxing to watch the light move through the water. He almost forgot what he’d been trying to ignore when his wrist pinged again. He could feel her watching him. Now or never. “My father reached out yesterday.” She made a noncommittal sound behind another mouthful of wine. “There’s, uh…” he struggled to find the phrasing, “He asked me to come home.” “Is everything okay?” she asked. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” He cleared his throat, “He just thinks…it’s time.” He knew he sounded foolish. He wasn’t sure how to explain it to a human. There was so much context she couldn’t understand. He watched her reflection. Her expression was carefully neutral. She seemed relaxed, but her eyes had a slightly unfocused, calculating bearing. “Is that what you want?” She asked like there was an easy answer, missing all of the complexities that seemed so obvious to him. “My father—,” he turned to face her. “I don’t care about your father.” He laughed, “You two have something in common.” “You know what I mean,” she rebuffed his joke. “What do you want?” “It’s…complicated. It’s not about what I want.” “Why not?” “Because...Turians—,” He paced a few steps away, releasing a frustrated sigh and rubbing his head. He wasn’t going to explain the intricacies of Turian culture to her. He wasn’t sure he even could. “Garrus, this isn’t some teenage rebellion.” He didn’t understand the phrase but he let it go. “This is for the galaxy. Your people should be rallying behind you.” “The way your’s have rallied behind you? Shepard, we're working for a literal terrorist organization.” “With” she corrected, “...But your point isn’t entirely lost.” He could see she wanted to argue more, but had decided on a more tactical route. “So what’s the situation exactly? You go home or you’re what? Banished?” He laughed a little, “Not with quite so much flair.” It was hard to put words to norms he’d always just accepted, “I don’t know how to explain it. To put yourself before the family, before the colony, is…You just don’t.” “This is the opposite of putting yourself first.” He wished he could say that was true. That if it weren’t for her, he’d still be out here fighting the good fight—but he knew better. Sure, he believed in what they were doing, but he was here for her. And they both knew it. “This isn’t Blasto 6, Shepard. I can’t just ask the Turian Hierarchy to just ‘go with it.’ Even you know how crazy it all sounds: ancient machines culling the galaxy?” He paused but she didn’t counter. “As far as they’re concerned, humans have been the biggest threat to the galaxy since the Geth.” “How flattering.” She gulped down the rest of her wine. “And then, after the Citadel, after…you—you know…” he stumbled over his words, refusing to make eye contact. “Well, they gave me time to grieve, and now it’s time to get back to reality.” “Glossing over the fact that this,” she set her glass down and tapped on the table, “is reality. So, what? You don’t go home and it ruffles a few feathers?” He ignored the turn of phrase.

“It’s more than that. We’re a collective, going against the Hierarchy is…egomaniacal. It goes against everything my people stand for.” She still didn't seem convinced.

“It’s not even really about me.” He sighed, “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m...not exactly a model Turian.” 

She raised her brows and tilted her head. He could tell she was fighting a small mirk, but she didn’t say anything. 

“I was a lost cause long before teaming up with the illustrious Commander Shepard—but my family?” Her brows furrowed and he tried to think of an example, “Say a Turian is demoted. It’s not really his fault. The disgrace lies with whoever promoted him in the first place. It’s the same principle in a family. They’re responsible for my actions as much as I’m responsible for theirs.” He thought he spied some semblance of understanding, “and since I’m not married, that means my father and sister would be—,” “Wait,” she held up her hand, “what does marriage have to do with it?” “It’s—,” He exhaled, annoyed by the tangent he’d introduced to the conversation. Shepard’s eyes flickered with a teasing curiosity, and for the umpteenth time since they’d met, he was grateful Turian’s didn’t blush. He rushed through the explanation. “Every Turian is completely tied to their family from birth. Your name, your reputation, your accomplishments and your failures. Everything is shared. That doesn’t change until you’re married. Then it sort of…” he searched for the right word, “transfers to your spouse?” He watched her carefully, trying to gauge her understanding. “Then, when you have kids, they’re tied to you and your partner until they marry—and so on.” 

He caught a flicker in her expression and stopped, “What?” “So you’re saying you’re twenty-seven years old, you’ve no money and no prospects. You’re already a burden to your parents and you’re frightened.” her words sounded strange. It took him a minute to realize she was using a different accent. He wasn’t sure what purpose it served, but he figured she was making a joke he didn't understand. “I guess?” He shrugged. She dropped it. “So if you were married—,” “It was a bad example.”  “No, no, listen. If you were married and your spouse—hypothetically—requested that you fight, I don’t know, the Reapers, you’d have to listen?” “Have you taken a psych eval lately?” She ignored him, “Then, even if the Turian Hierarchy comes knocking, it’s just about you and your partner? No kids, no dad, no sister to worry about.” “How romantic.” “Is that really how it would work?” She pressed. “You’re glossing over a lot of nuance and context—but on a basic level…yes? I guess.” He crossed his arms. How had the conversation gone so off-course? “Regardless, I still need to—” he stopped, “is something wrong with your leg?” Shepard was crouched down onto her knee. “What? No. This is how humans do it.” “Do what?” “Propose.” She said it so matter of factly he almost felt absurd for asking. “Shepard—” “Garrus—” “Shepard, don’t—” “You can just call me Jane now.” “Stop.” He pulled her up, doing his best to ignore the uncomfortable fluttering in his stomach. She wore a calm, level expression that frustrated and excited him. “I’m not joking.” Her eyes left his and began to drift across the room as she seemed to consider her words. “Listen. I…need you.” She let the words hang for a minute, as if testing the waters. Her eyes finally settled on a point just over his shoulder, mercifully avoiding his gaze. “We’ve been in this together since the beginning. I trust you and I can’t imagine doing…any of this without you.” She finally turned her eyes to his. Her expression serious. “You're my best friend, and if I’m going into hell, I want you at my back—If you’ll have me.” She added.

“Now you’re begging.” She grinned but continued to push, “I’m serious. Nothing has to change between us. You just get a Turian hall pass to come save the galaxy with me.” It wasn’t that simple, but there was something there. “I feel like this conversation has gone from zero to 100.” He rubbed a hand over his face. He felt like he was watching himself, standing dumbly in front of her.  “Time’s kind of a luxury these days,” she shrugged. “Shepard, I don’t—this is crazy.” He shook his head. She stepped towards him and took his hand, “Garrus Vakarian, will you marry me?” He sighed and she laughed. He was confused, flattered—a little annoyed—and something else he couldn’t quite put his talon on. “I’m not taking your name.” He said, finally. She laughed again, and this time he smiled.

#shakarian #Shepard x Garrus #Garrus Vakarian #garrus x shepard #garrus x femshep #awww shiiiiii #mass effect 2 #Mass Effect

[saveourskinship]

Thankathankathank youuuuu @akorah for the tag 🥰

Three Ships:

Dramione. Because kissing someone furiously while grumpily saying "You. It's you. It's always you but... Why does it have to be you" is my jam, bread, butter, marmalade and vegemite [marmite if you're heathen ie smutty]

Zutara. Because they make each other better. They move each other forward. Because fire. Because water. Because lightning. Because ice. Because scars. Because healing. Because because because.

Skam and Beadie. This is cheating because they are original characters I am writing. They are not even a couple but God help me am I the hell leaving space to write my own fanfiction about them. Maybe an HEA where they don't all die at the end. *shrugs*

First Ship:

In anything: Barbie and Action Man. Before I was even in school my sister and I would steal our brother's Action Man as Barbie's partner. Ken's job was Beach. Our Barbie needed a man with a plan.

In media: Sora/Kairi from Kingdom Hearts. I used to devour fanfic about them. Shout out to the one which sticks in my brain and introduced me to My Chemical Romance when Kairi got married to Squall because of something to do with Mickey being an little shitprick which I think was because of some soul signature nonsense? I can't remember and anyway Demolition Lovers was their wedding song and the bane of my mother's existence - Save's Emo Phase was born.

Last Song:

Girls Like You - The Naked and Famous (shit, this is actually a lie, but it's the last 'proper' song I listened to since I don't count the demo I'm making for my friend's satire girlpunk band she decided to create last night as a real song yet. It just has boop-boop-boops. Night Lunch can pull off songs with only doof-doofs and boom-booms. I cannot. So the demo won't be real until Sasha does the drums at least.)

Last Movie:

What A Girl Wants. Look. It's Amanda Bynes. I love Amanda Bynes. It is also Colin Firth and blue blood upper crust English vibes (done poorly, sure, but still). The last chapter of rose-petal compliments is needing all the help I can get it right now.

Currently Reading:

Harrow the Ninth - Tamsyn Muir

Lesbian necromancers in space. Need there be another reason?

Currently Watching:

Jujitsu Kaisen Season Two (Gojo, my love. I salivate, I wither, I breathe so much ecstasy I lack oxygen and die.)

Taskmaster NZ (rewatch. Like, no shade to my country or anything [said under the world's largest umbrella] but fuck we're shit.)

Last Thing I Wrote:

Like, as in finished? Because otherwise it would be this, right?

I wrote delivery instructions for a food order earlier today. Can't have done it very well because the driver still got confused and had to call me.

In terms of Things with Titles that are Complete™️, then an original folktale called.... fuck, what did I call it? I can't remember. It's about an unnamed protagonist and a boatman though. Still waiting on my rejection emails from the magazines I've submitted it to 😂

Currently Writing:

Let's skip over the arseholiness of me saying that I'm currently writing this again, shall we? (Let's not turtles-all-the-way-down my mentioning it either.)

Okay. Here we go:-

rose-petal compliments: dramione. Quiet luxury, Hermione is wealthy. Set in the Muggle world.

sacreligious inferences of a midnight paradise: dramione. Trope soup. Marriage law/fake dating/date or die. (Plus a bunch more tropes because why not?)

The Absolute and Total Defeat of One Draco Malfoy. Multi-ship. Crack. Crack from crest to cunt.

What's Owed When. Dramione. Unexpected Pregnancy. France. Delectomancy. Draco pines so hard he's basically a forest.

foil&fall. Tansy (Teddy Lupin/Pansy Parkinson). Fluff. Epistolary.

Untitled warfic. Dramione. My attempt at All Plot, No Vibes. Yes, you read that right. I'm trying to write something with NO VIBES ALL PLOT. (Draw a pentagram and sage for me, I bloody need it.)

The Environmental Suicide Club. Original YA speculative fiction. This is the one Skam and Beadie are from. Grief. Environmentalism. Nihilism. Set one generation in the future. Everyone dies at the end. A Fun, Very Good Time! Completely unmarketable! Wheeee!

Untitled socmed. Theomione. Writing this one with @they-call-me-megs A bunch of fun and one we return to when we're struggling for inspiration elsewhere.

Aster, the Star-Sailor. Original children's series. Sci-fi, pirate adventure. Came from writing the Tansy and I fell in love with it. Thanks, Pansy.

Fate and Free Will series. Urban fantasy six-book series. Currently undertaking a massive rework of the structure.

wander/wonder. A Luna Lovegood POV story Christmas visual novel. Story is written and am hoping I can finish the video in time for December.

There are a few more but these are the ones I work on a least a little bit every week.

Tagging @they-call-me-megs @thusatlas @paandreablack

#save's unhinged life #writing #fanfic #congrats on getting here gods i can blather on can't i

[mrs-i-have-too-many-biases]

TTO: Worth It || Hwang Hyunjin

Chapter two: College band

Synopsis: After the band The Thunderous Ones go viral, Hyunjin (famously known as ‘Hyune’) comes across obstacles that may question himself if it was all truly worth it. Will the overwhelming fame go to his head? Will he forget where his roots lie and who supported him through it all? Or is he willing to throw it all away? Would it all be just worth it?

“I can’t believe I actually fell in love with you.”

“What?”

Genre: Fluff, Slow burn, Fanfic Series Word Count: 2,8K Band position: Singer, rapper, guitarist Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader (ft. TXT’s Choi Yeonjun & Ateez’s Jung Wooyoung) Tropes: Semi-Social Media!AU || Best Friends to Strangers to Lovers || Band!AU || College!AU || Non Idol!AU Warnings: Swearing.

Author’s Note: Everything used in this series is used for entertainment and fiction purposes.

Chapter two: College band

“Stop throwing your drumsticks at me!”  Jisung yelled at the drummer, Chan, who was having the time of his life annoying the guitarist that was having trouble escaping his shots.

With dimples on display, Chan yelled back at him: “Start playing our songs instead of covering anything else that we are supposed to!” Another drumstick was thrown at Jisung’s head, causing him to squeal out.

Felix and Seungmin shared a look with one another and shook their heads as they watched two-fifth of their band bickering for the umpteenth time during their rehearsal. Preparing for a gig usually start out chaotic, this wasn’t the first time Chan ran out of ammo. Jisung, who usually was his target, took as a chance to get his revenge and tackled the Aussie down.

Hyunjin was calmly seated on an armchair, legs kicked up on the armrest as he jammed on his guitar. Completely immersed into the new melody he had thought of, he was oblivious to the so-called fight Jisung and Chan were having.

“Hello boys~” A familiar voice sang was heard when Y/n walked through the door, her hands occupied with take-away bags, schoolbooks, her bag and phone. She froze for a second as she watched the scene in front of her. Jisung was now seated on top of Chan’s belly whilst Chan groaned in agony yet continued to laugh his ass off. Felix and Seungmin seemed to have joined their playful fight.

“Let me help you with that Nugget.” Her best friend Hyunjin said, who noticed her presence and relieved her from her occupied hands. “Oh, so that’s my new nickname now? What happened to ‘Maniac’.”  She scoffs with a laugh, starting to set the small table within the studio with the food she brought. “You keep calling me ‘French Fry’, everybody needs some nuggets with their fries, don’t they” He wiggled with his eyebrows only to receive the back of her hand slapping against his chest.

“Yes Y/n! Join the rebellion!” She heard Jisung yell, who was held in a headlock by Chan who regained power over the ‘situation’. “Y/n help!” Tired Seungmin yelled who was being sat on by Chan who tried to hold the younger three boys down.

“Food’s ready!” Was the only thing that needed to be yelled by her for the boys to make peace and stuff their face as the aftermath.

The six of them were enjoying their food, catching up as the exams were coming up and making up a strategy for the upcoming gig that they were excited for. Y/n listened to the boys rambling on about the upcoming gig as she made herself comfortable on the armchair, where Hyunjin previously sat. Y/n closed her eyes as a headache struck her out of nowhere, not really though. She knew that the study sessions she’s been having was the culprit. “How are the other maniacs doing, Chief Maniac?” Felix asked smirking at Hyunjin who wasn’t too pleased that Felix used the nickname only he used on Y/n. “Well, Jeongin has been continuously spamming me with texts and calls about subjects that he just can’t get right for the upcoming exams. Minho is busy with dancing as usual, so nothing new to be honest.”  She laughed.

“And how have you been holding up Maniac?” Hyunjin asked, emphasizing on the nickname to make it clear only he gets to use that name on her. “I’ve been fine up until like yesterday, I guess. Professors are so kind to give us extra work and new projects as the exams are nearing. They are just lovely, aren’t they.”  She batted her eyes whilst smiling bitterly.

“To top that all off, I’ve just been stressed and I’ve been having headaches, cramps and migraines every other day these past few weeks. So, fuck ‘em deadlines.” She chanted, holding her drink high. “Fuck ‘em deadlines!” The boys yelled after her as they raised theirs.

“How has the pride and joy of our college been?” Y/n teased, giving the boys a glance. They had always been incredibly humble about their talents and their success. Even as a ‘simple’ college band the boys seemed to have gained recognition throughout the country, earning themselves thousands of fans.

“Stop it,” Chan started as his ears began to turn a warmer tone. “I still can’t believe that we started out as a joke, simply because we wanted to do something we enjoyed. Now we’re getting booked for gigs and have people recognizing us around the campus. It already feels so surreal and we are nowhere near the ‘pride and joy’ of the school. We all know the jocks hold that trophy.” He laughed.

“But besides that, we’ve been well to be honest. None of us have been too stressed about our deadlines, but we do like to complain about them.”  Jisung added with a smile. “Nonetheless, you’ll be fine Y/n. There’s no need to worry. If you try your best, that’s the best thing you can do. Besides, you’re so talented and on top of your class. What have I told you about believing in your-fucking-self.” Hyunjin playfully smacks her with the nearest pillow to make his point clear, causing her to burst out in laughter.

Hyunjin shoved Jisung to the side who was sitting in front of Y/n, trying to enjoy his food, as Hyunjin wanted to sit closer to his best friend.

He ignored the glances from his bandmates and turned to Y/n who had laid down on the armchair, swinging her feet that hung on the side of the armrest. He was turned to her as he rested his head on her tummy, starting to poke her puffed cheeks, causing her to playfully stick out her tongue every time he did so. “Are you comfortable?” Hyunjin asked her softly as the others continued their own conversations. She simply nodded, he figured she was starting to feel tired. He knew how hardworking she was and even during her busy schedule she continued to spend time with him and the band to support them during rehearsals or writing songs with them.

He was very grateful for her, more than she’d ever know.

Hyunjin noticed the necklace she was wearing and figured that it must’ve been uncomfortable as she kept fidgeting with it. He moved her head to the side and carefully slid his hands behind her head to take it off for her as she laid still as well for her earrings. Y/n has always adored the kind and thoughtful gestures Hyunjin did for her. Things like this made her heart feel warm by the simple act of kindness or whenever he comes by her place, somehow sensing she’s going through something, bringing a bag with things he knows she’d love.

She loves him very much, more that he’d ever know or than she’d like to admit.

“You seem tired, do you want to skip date night tonight?” Hyunjin asked her. “Are you out of your mind?” She exclaimed, regaining a burst of energy. “We’ve had these weekly date nights for the past three years, I am not missing out only because I'm a little tired.” She laughs as Hyunjin threw his hands up in defense. “Only looking out for you, Nugget.” “Yeah sure, let’s get going then if you still are up for date night.”

“Hold your horses! We still have three songs to rehears then I’m willing to let the two of you go. This rehearsal has been nothing but the embodiment of procrastination, we must rehear at least three songs.” Chan stressed.

“You okay with that Maniac?” “Yes, yes, I’ll be fine. I’ll take a nap or something-“ “Is our music that boring Y/n?” Felix playfully cried out. “Hush and go rehears, I’m losing date night time.” Y/n stuck out her tongue and made herself comfortable once again.

She had always loved their music and enjoyed spending time with them as they wrote songs together. She adored their passion and she loved how immersed they were on stage when they performed.

“Try this!” Hyunjin yelled in a whisper as he aimed his food-filled spoon towards her. She hummed in delight after eating the bite and did a little dance to express how delicious it was.

“So, what are the rest of our plans for the night?” “It surprises me every time at how much of a night owl you are.” Y/n giggles at her overly excited best friend.

“We can go on our usual shopping spree, go to an arcade, or take a walk through the park to go home and watch a movie?” She suggested. “How about we do all of them? It’s date night after all.” He grinned mischievously. “If you want to spend time with me so badly, why don’t you just say so.”  She giggles as she held his hand in hers. “Do you want to get desert here or shall we go in town to get something?” “Let’s go into town, the night market is open tonight and I want some rice cakes.”

After their dinner they went into town to do some shopping and have their weekly argument about who’s paying for what. “Hyune, I can pay for myself!” She whines as she tried her best friend from walking towards the register. “Just let me pay woman!” He jokes back as he tried to continue walking forward with her wrapped around his waist, trying to act as an anchor to hold him back.

“Hwang Hyunjin, I’m warning you! I will get you that expensive set of paint brushes you never let me get you!” “You wouldn’t dare!” The second she let go of him he knew he was screwed. Y/n ran out of the store, leaving him holding a mountain of stuff that still needed to be paid for. He tried calling after her, but he could only hear her giggles as she moved further away from him.

“Stop blubbering Hyune and just take the fucking gift!” She cries out in laughter to her best friend who’s laying defeated next to her on the grass as they had moved to a park after their shopping.

“But-“ “No buts.” She says as she smacked his butt, causing him to yelp in surprise and turn onto his back. A pout was shot her way, which she ignored. Instead, she placed the new paint brushes she bought for him on his face, with a smile plastered on her own. He moved them off his face and tackled her down with him. “Thank you.” He whispered into her tummy, making her chuckle whilst she ran her hand through his hair. “You’re welcome, now you can continue to gush about art supplies whilst using the ones you’ve been eyeing for so fucking long.” “I can’t believe you spend 80.000 won on a paintbrush set.” He groans into her stomach, slightly shaking her in the process. “And you keep buying stuff for me with the money you earn from gigs with the guys, when you really need to put that money in your bank account.” “What’s the fun in that?” He grinned. “Hyune.” She groans.

After bickering for some more the two went to get snacks from the night market and brought them home for their movie night. They were sprawled on the couch in Y/n’s apartment living room. Hyunjin was laid down on his side with Y/n’s back pressed against his torso. Sneaking a glance down at her, he noticed her looking at her books she was studying earlier. He had to drag her onto the couch with him, to get her to relax. He took off her jewelry before he pressed her against his chest.

As the movie continued, Y/n was internally screaming. They’ve laid down like this countless of times. He had his arm loosely wrapped around her waist, his breath tickling her neck through her hair. How she wishes that all these affectionate touches meant something. She’s never thought she’d have a chance with her gorgeous best friend. Even if others would disagree, especially when they already seem like a couple to the outside world.

Y/n knew better.

“Have you written any new songs lately?” Hyunjin asked, disinterested by the movie.

Now that he has mentioned it, Y/n was reminded by the amount of love songs she’s written dedicated to him. Yet, she would never admit that.

“Yeah, inspiration struck me like lightning this past few weeks, which wasn’t helpful at all to be honest. I wanted to shift my focus on my studies and not on songwriting for just one week.” The truth is: Y/n has been continuously thinking about her best friend in a non-best friend way. Watching him rehears with his band, where he is in his element... It is almost bewitching to her.

The moment she realized she was enamored with her best friend, was the second where he had hurried to her place to comfort her through a panic attack she had during her first exam season. It was their first year and Y/n was nervous to enroll into a study she loved, but wasn’t very confident in. It took Hyunjin weeks of his time to convince her that she was truly talented at what she did and that he wished that she could see herself through his point of view.

The amount of effort he willingly put into comforting her, was so touching (and attractive), she hasn’t been able to think of her best friend as just a friend.

She turned to face him, her eyelids feeling quite heavy and Hyunjin’s touch was warm and welcoming. Feeling his arm wrap around her whilst softly caressing her back, knowing it will help putting her to sleep.

Y/n couldn’t help but think that she could die happily right now if it were to be in his arms.

“You really are such a talented individual, it’s insane.” Hyunjin started, his hand now tangled in her hair. “You exceed in your studies, you write amazing song and you’re almost as good as me when it comes to art- ouch!” Hyunjin yelled after he received a smack to the chest. “I was just kidding gosh. About the last part at least- hey!” He grabbed her hand and tangled it with his.

She hoped he couldn’t feel her heart pounding against his chest.

“We’ll be having an upcoming gig soon, not going to lie, I’m nervous. I feel like we really got something at stake this time. Maybe I’m just pressuring myself since I’m a perfectionist after all.” “I could help writing songs if that would help? I think a ‘fresh’ sound could be good.” Y/n mumbled tiredly, her eyes closed as she snuggled into her warmth as much as she could. He carries on rambling about his thoughts, until he looks down and notices the sleeping figure in his arms.

He took a deep breath, his hand softly cupping her face as he softly caressed her cheek. His heart overwhelmingly full as he remembered a random article that mentioned the safe feeling someone unconsciously experience whenever they are with a certain person, that lets them fall asleep around them.

Hyunjin felt honored and relieved that he was a safe space to her.

He used to only wish to be just that and nothing more. Yet, his wishes had become greedier as he wanted her to himself. He loved seeing her interact with his friends, but he adored the moments where her eyes were focused on him and him only.

Hyunjin had tried to keep his mind occupied with happenings around the band and whatnot, but she keeps coming back to his thoughts as if she lives in his head rent free.

He adores how passionate she is about his artwork and how supportive she’s always been about his dreams. He’s grateful of how great of a friend she’s been to him, ever since they’ve met.

He’s so in love with her.

He knew that for sure, months after they’ve met.

He’s so in love with her.

His best friend, but he’s too scared the feelings aren’t mutual and that he’d ruin whatever they had.

Masterlist || Prev || Next

#TTO #The thunderous ones the series #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin fluff #skz #stray kids #danceracha #skz fluff #skz angst #skz imagines #skz series #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin au #hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin au #hwang hyunjin series #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop au #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids au #stray kids angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids series #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin social media au

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2022 | Day 10 | College AU

Molly Ringwald is still a Bitch | @kingdumbass

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 13,871 Main Tags/Warnings: College Roommates, mutual pining, miscommunication, Dean Winchester has a Panty Kink, Unprotected Sex Summary: Castiel has got it bad for his college roommate Dean, but Dean would never fall for a guy like Castiel... Would he?

Winchester in Love | @one-more-offbeat-anthem

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 34,229 Main Tags/Warnings: College AU, film student!Dean, pre-med!Cas, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced homophobia, strangers to friends to lovers, Shakespeare in Love AU, switch!Dean and Cas Summary: Senior screenwriting major Dean Winchester is in a bit of a jam: his script for his group’s short film thesis project was due…two weeks ago, and his professor just threw out his latest rough draft because he’s tired of Dean writing about his dead parents. Dean cobbles together the start of a new script, and that’s when inspiration strikes in the most unexpected of places: the presence of soft-spoken biology major Castiel Milton at the casting call. Cas, as he asks Dean to call him, is the perfect choice to play the main character in the group’s short film, and the more time Dean spends with Cas, the closer he gets to finishing his script. But as their time at college and work on the film draw to a close, Dean starts to realize that there’s more to Cas than meets the eye and that the best person he’s ever met may not be his to keep.

Welcome to the Apocalypse | @the-hunted-other

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 36,803 Main Tags/Warnings: Light angst, Dean and Cas are roommates, Jealous Dean, Not actually unrequited love, First Kiss Summary: Dean has participated in the yearly zombie apocalypse thrown by the college for the past two years and he’s perfected the art of evading zombies. This year, he convinces Cas to join but has to make a bet to do so. Who will win the bet?

Only Friends | RogueTranslator (AO3)

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 52,913 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel & Meg Masters Friendship, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Roommates, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, Jealous Dean Winchester, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Possessive Sex, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester Summary: It’s the fall of 2007, and Dean’s sophomore year at Edlund College is off to a rough start. Sure, it’s great to have a full ride to one of the country’s elite private schools, and it’s great to live in Vermont’s idyllic Champlain Valley, and it’s really great to have his own classic rock show on the campus radio station, but the thing Dean had been looking forward to the most was rooming with his best friend Castiel. And he hardly sees him these days. The whole situation is Meg’s fault. Dean has no idea what Castiel sees in her or why they’re spending so much time together lately. As far as he can tell, they have nothing in common and Meg just wants to sleep with him. Which, fair. The dude’s pretty handsome. Even Dean can see that. But Dean’s pretty sure that Castiel doesn’t want that, and he’s determined to prove it. He doesn’t care if he makes an ass of himself in the process. He just wants his roommate back.

Crashing (A.K.A The Magic of Peppermint) | @lotsofquestionslimitedanswers

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 91,411 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, fluff and angst, Dean Winchester has ADHD, implied/referenced child abuse, College AU, slow burn Summary: It’s the middle of Dean’s junior year of college and Dean had never paid much attention to fellow English-major Castiel Novak until they crash into each other at the Barnes and Noble on campus. The second Castiel’s coffee spills all over Dean, Dean can’t get the dorky English nerd out of his head. Chaos ensues.

#destiel trope collection 2022 #destiel trope collection #day 10 #college au

[forabeatofadrum]

randomised trope/tag grading game

@captain-aralias tagged me in this fun challenge. I did a trope rating one a while ago, but this one is randomised!!

Rules: Generate your own personal list of 10 AO3 tags to rate. How much do these tags affect your decision to click on a fic? -10 -> very dissuaded 0 - don’t care either way +10 -> very enticed nope -> if it’s a hard no and you’d never click on a fic with that tag or or you even have the tag blocked or you’d insta click out of the fic if it wasn’t tagged Bonus points for explaining the rating and whether it’s conditional.

Drag Queens - 5

5 feels like a good mid-point, because I've never actually read a fic where a character doing drag has a central role, but I do love drag queens in real life, so I wouldn't mind. I just never thought to seek it out. Maybe I should.

Virtual Reality - 0

Define "Virtual Reality". Do you mean the blorbos playing some sort of VR game of the blorbos actually being in a VR-generated world? The first one sounds, uh, kind of boring. The second one sounds more interesting. (Not a fic, but the Hank Green duology really does this well). But also... not really interested in the first place.

Retirement - 0

Look, I just turned 25. I don't have any idea what to think of retirement yet. Ask me again in 40 years.

Feel-Good - 1000

FUCK YEAH. I don't believe that fic necessarily has to be a form of escapism, but it can be and feel-good and pure fluff is my JAM.

Loneliness - idk

This is a tough one, hence the idk. I think it is a great topic to explore, but as someone who's felt incredibly lonely, it's also a tough cookie. So it can be cathartic to see my (past) feelings reflected, but it can also be daunting, so I guess it depends on the mood.

Cardinal Virtues - ????

I had to Google what this means and I am still not entirely sure. I feel like I should, cause I literally study philosophy these days.

But, like, what does this mean for fic tropes? Does this mean a fic is all about a character being just or what not?

Post-Canon - 10

YEAH. I mean, it does depend on how much I love the canon (looking at you, Glee, fuck off!), but if I do love how the show/series/whatever ended, I do like the idea of checking up on these characters, so to speak.

Animal Traits - -10

Meh. I also don't really know what this means. I assume it has something to do with hybrid fics and that is not my thing and it never has been. This assumption is because traits like "loyalty" aren't inheritely for animals, for example dogs. Wait, is THIS what's meant with Cardinal Virtues? (jk)

Unhealthy Relationships - 2

Oof, okay. I was literally just thinking today on how fiction allows you to explore things you don't want to occur in real life and this is one of them. I mean, guys, I love Snowbaz. That isn't particulary healthy, especially in Wayward Son. I suppose it depends on how unhealthy (there's a difference between miscommunication and personal problems getting in the way and straight up physical violence) and how it's explored. If it's romanticised in any way, it's a big no, but to come back to the Wayward Son example, I do like the exploration.

Cannibalism - -100000

LOOK I ALWAYS JOKE I AM GLAD I JUST MISSED OUT ON THE CANNIBLAINE CRAZE OF EARLY 2011 FOR A REASON.

Tagging @quizasvivamos @spookyklaine @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @justgleekout @cerriddwenluna @tea-brigade @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @cutestkilla​ @wellbelesbian​ @artsyunderstudy​ @martsonmars​ @facewithoutheart​ @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites @blackberrysummerblog @whatevertheweather

#tag game

[audacityofhugefics]

For the ask game: 7, 10, 24, 30, 37 and 38. 😊

Heyo! Thanks for participating.

7. Your favourite ao3 tag. I don't really have one I guess. I tend to look at the Abby/Ellie couple tag the most often. When I was deep in the Rizzles mode I used to look at "slow burn" and "canon continuation" because those are my jams in general.

10. Top three favourite fic tropes. 3.) Long distance relationships, because absence makes the heart grow fonder. 2.) "Everyone knew except for these two morons." 1.) Friends to lovers. That is my SHIT.

24. Thoughts on flashbacks/flashforwards. I love them. I have used both in my fics. Flashbacks in particular can be a really handy tool to establish character development, because you can show how what happened before would not have happened if the character was in the place they are at now. I used this in "The Good Fight" by flashing back to when Abby and Owen broke up, for example. And I almost always use a flashforward as my last chapter because I'm a sucker for an ending that ties everything up nicely.

30. Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn't. I really really was trying to think of a way to pair Aloy and Alva in Horizon: Forbidden West. I still might do it. We'll see what happens when I go back for a second playthrough. I also have a hard drive full of abandoned Sailor Moon ideas, although most of them never went anywhere because they didn't have an actual plot, they were just several chapters of pure fluff, which used to be all I wrote until Legend of Korra showed up in my life and brought "Chosen's Chosen" with it.

37. Do you research before writing or while you write? Is it fun or boring for you? I do SOME research, just enough to sound authoritative on something. I also tend to use a lot of my general knowledge on stuff I already know about in my fics, like politics or police work or motorcycles, which is something I haven't had occasion to bring in to a fic but I have used in an original work that I'm just writing for fun.

38. "This never happened" fix-it fics or "this happened but" fix-it fics? "This happened but" by a landslide. I ALWAYS prefer fics that are as close to canon compliant as possible. It's what I write and it's what I read. I'm writing/reading fic because I'm interested in the intellectual property, so I want fan works that are harmonious alongside it.

Thanks again for the ask!

#ask game thing

[sushipusheen]

Dear Author

Hi, I’m Mac (@Macdragon on AO3, formerly @katemacetak on DW/LJ) I believe that 2022 marks the ten-year anniversary of my participation in Yuletide! It’s the most magical time of the year. I’m excited to read whatever you write this year. Treats turned on and welcome. 

my requests: 

general likes: character studies, found family, domesticity, academia, dry humor, competency, holiday fluff, redemption arcs, hurt/comfort, road trips/travel fic, mystery casefic, coffeeshop au or general cozy/fluff settings, hand-holding/cuddling(esp for a touch-starved character!), romance/sexy times outside or in nature, using magic during sex, strong or harsh people being tender with their SO! 0-3 [URL=https://www.romancerehab.com/chili-pepper-heat-rating-scale.html]chili peppers[/url] for romance.

dnw: characters being seriously ill (minor colds/injuries are ok), any mention of throwing up, hospital scenes, cancer, death of a parent (unless otherwise mentioned in character backstory), claustrophobia/characters being stuck somewhere, discussion of weight loss/disordered eating. i am generally only interested in smut for m/m or f/f pairings. 

The Serpent Gates 

Talasseres Charossa

Belthandros Sethennai

The character development in this series is so wonderful. I love how flawed Tal is—cunning and self-serving but also making terrible choices, and eventually becoming a slightly better person. On the other hand Sethennai is charming when we first meet him, but eventually becomes a villain with few redeemable qualities (in my eyes). The reader falls out of love with him just as Tal does (or does Tal ever truly fall out of love with him)? I would adore any character-centric fic with these two, whether it’s a small missing scene or a longer tale about their adventures. Maybe a situation where Tal has to take over something from Sethannai because he’s undisposed/doesn’t feel like it and then he gets to be the competent one. Seeing more of how they interacted earlier in their relationship would be interesting, and how it developed over time. I could also see a story about Tal after the series ends, reflecting on his past with Sethennai and ultimately moving on. (Although I am intrigued by their relationship, I very much ship TalxHappiness ultimately). Also not opposed to a story that’s just bad people being hot together, if that’s your bent. Definitely interested in worldbuilding, exploring more of the maze and other worlds, but would be just as happy with a fic that stayed in their city and had them doing quiet scholarly stuff! This series makes me so happy so I’m excited about anything in the world. 

Grown(ish)

Vivek Shah

Ana Torres

The odd power couple. I’m not going to claim this show is a masterpiece of writing and plotting anyway, but I felt like Vivek was somewhat under appreciated in the last season. Lots of character development jammed into a few episodes, and they treated him like a joke most of the rest of the series. So, give me more Vivek? And him and Ana either getting together like they did in the show or just being friends. These two are so smart but chaotic and can get up to all sorts of trouble together. How did that road trip go for them? Will their relationship last in the "real world?” Due to my dnw I would prefer the story not focus on Vivek losing his dad but talking about it briefly is fine—if anything I’d be more interested in an AU where he actually reconciles with his family, or decides on his own terms to leave them without being prompted by a sudden disaster. Random missing scenes from their time at college would be great too. What experiences might have taken Vivek and Ana from frenemies to something more? 

Necessary Evils 

Adam Mulvaney

Noah Holt

I became addicted to this sociopath romance series this year. It’s over the top but so fun, and involves a few tropes I enjoy—competency porn, WHO DID THIS TO YOU, grumpyXgrumpy, mutual rescuing. I am a simple person and just want fic of the murder boys being cute together. What would the perfect day for these two look like? How is their relationship after the initial puppy love wears off and they become comfortable (or does that ever happen?) What is it like for Noah being part of the “family?” Show me their relationship shifting from insta-love to deep soulmate love. I imagine after a few years working together they’re such a strong partnership they’re ruthlessly efficient on cases. A story about a new case would be fun, either everything going so well or something goes wrong and they have to help each other out of it. Here for whatever darkly wholesome fic you come up with for these guys.

P-Valley 

Uncle Clifford Mercedes Woodbine 

Why isn’t everyone watching this show!? The setting is completely riveting to me and the characters are fascinating. I love how Uncle Clifford is like a godmother to everyone at the Pynk, sometimes it’s tough love but she definitely watches out for them. So many found family vibes! Feel free to add in any characters, but I’m most interested in a story about Cliff and Mercedes’ friendship/mentoring relationship. At times they seem like mother/daughter, other times like sisters. There’s a lot of history there that could be expanded on. How did they first begin working together? What about a time when they were able to relax and have some fun together? I enjoyed the brief magic realism in the second season and would be interested to see that expanded on, and it would be cool if you can manage to bring in the music and visual aspects of the show to writing somehow!