#like if i continue with the plan it may change the tone of the fic irreparably

[notcatherinemorland]

i am like. 3 paragraphs away from the next chapter of my silly political comedy fic but it is giving me existential crisis like who let me have so much creative authority over my own fic. what do next.

#like if i continue with the plan it may change the tone of the fic irreparably #but if i Don't change the plan it will also have Consequences for the tone of it #but also i am no where near intelligent or educated enough to write what i want to write #but also if i put the research groundwork in then i Know it will do the aformentioned irreparable change #sigh. #this one specific letter is so so so so dicey but im not skilled enough to write it in the way that will make it Work #its like. the letter is Meant to be manipulative. it's meant to make your eyebrows raise. its supposed to come across at A Bad Look #bc if it was said aloud it would be bad!! it would be poor behaviour!! its in a private letter that is exposed only to the reader!! #bc thats just fucking politics. thats how it is!!! #however im not good enough at writing to do it effectively. like if it doesnt work it's just going to look flat hamfisted #and like i author endorse it #which like. no! thats why im writing this fic! because there's no textual canon outcome in my fandom that is genuine democratic government!! #and i thought it would be funny to write the emails getting sent around a government trying its level best to be democratic #when they are systemically functionally incapable of being so!!! #unfortunately thats a bit fucking dissonant with the idea of lighthearted comedy. #which i suppose is like. the point. #ok ive changed the bit slightly and simply added in a simply wonderful reference to a wilde character name/railway company im happy again

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sweaty Palms 1

Warnings: this fic will include obsessive behaviour, possible non/ducbon, bullying, and other elements which may not be specifically triggered. Please be cautious in continuing on to the story.

Character: Curtis Everett

Summary: You start going to the gym to break old habits, but new things are scary.

Please reblog and leave some feedback, preferably in a reblog but you can always drop by my asks. I always love working in y'alls ideas with these AUs so I am so excited to hear from you.

As always, take care of yourself <3 be kind and be patient. Love you.

No tag lists. Please review my pinned and bio for guidelines.

You’ve never been to a gym before. You’ve never been to a lot of places. Crowds are not your forte, public places are your personal nightmare, and strangers make your nervous. Everything makes you nervous. 

You can’t hide forever. That’s the conclusion you’ve come to. It's not a very comfortable one for you but if you don’t change, you’re always going to feel like this. Heavy, deflated, lost. It’s hard to put into words the feeling. The world just seems to pass you by, it functions around you, and sometimes you almost believe you’re not really there. Like a ghost, you just watch it without effect. 

The extra fifteen dollars a month isn’t too much of a stretch. You can hold off on your Kindle addiction for the expense. That’s another thing, you need to start being smart, more practical with your money. 

Planning. That’s something you’re working on. You didn’t come without one. You wouldn’t make it past the door without a set of steps to follow. 

You stop by the front counter first. You ask the woman behind it about how to get into the gym. You bought a membership online. She brings up your profile and issues you a membership card, explaining how you can also download the app and register with your member number. You thank her and continue through. 

You walk along the first floor, the leg machines and the rowing machines being worked by the regulars. You find your way to the dressing room on the second floor and enter with your head down. You try not to look anywhere but where you need to. You find a stall and change, packing away your street clothes, then go out to find a locker to shove your stuff in. 

You emerge with your phone and your new smart watch strapped to your wrist. You glance at the face of it. Your heart rate is already elevated. You unlock your phone and tap the app you downloaded the day before. You flipped through the catalogue of beginners’ workouts but didn’t have any of the equipment to do it yourself. It’s cheaper to just come here. 

You go to one of the spaces laid with mats and stop before one of the racks of weights. You stare at your phone in exasperation. You don’t understand, you’re connected to the wifi but the app just won’t connect. You could try on your own but you really don’t know what you’re doing. 

Ugh, why did you even bother? This is just another failure. You try restarting the app and then your phone, aware of the activity around you. Does anyone notice how clueless you look? 

“Hit it or quit it, little girl,” a man startles you as he brushes by you and grabs a large set of dumbbells, the thirty on the side catching your eye. You shift out of the way and press your phone against your chest, the smooth fabric of your shirt causing it to vibrate as if you tapped the screen. “This isn’t the phone club, it’s a gym.” 

“Sorry, I...” 

“There’s a cafe across the street, you can go play candy crush there,” he scoffs, “seems more your speed.” 

“Must feel real big, huh?” A gritty voice nears from your other side, “real heavy lifting there, pushing around a woman.” 

“Huh?” The first man narrows his eyes as he grips the set of dumbbells at his sides and faces the other man.  

He’s taller than you, muscular but not too bulky. His head is shaved and a dark short beard lines his jaw. Similar hair peeks out from the top of his tee shirt and dusts his toned arms. He slips past you, inserting himself between you and the gym watchdog. 

“Bro,” the first guy sneers, “don’t even start with me. You think you can step up.” 

“I’m not stepping up,” the other man defies, “I’m telling you to mind your business. Take your weights and leave her alone.” 

“Pfft, this some sort of date? You know, this isn’t the Olive Garden--” 

The second man crosses his arms, his back to you as he postures at the other man. He’s silent as he stares him down. You can’t see his face but you can feel the tension roiling off of him. There’s a thick lull as both men stand in a deadlock. 

“Got something to say, bud,” the first guy drops the weights and they boom against the floor. You wince and step back, “go on, I could use the work out.” 

“I said it,” the second man utters flatly, unyielding as he looms like a wall between you. 

“Fucking loser,” the other spits back, “you’re really gonna fuck around for that? Have you seen the skin around her?.” 

The man doesn’t respond. He stays as he is, an unmoving sentinel. The other man growls in frustration. 

“Fucking chicken shit, why don’t you speak up, dude?” 

Still no answer. Just a glare. You clutch your phone against your chest, frozen in horror and confusion. You didn’t mean to start a fight. You hate confrontation. 

Suddenly, the man before you jerks as he’s grabbed by the large man. His back hits you slightly and you drop your phone as he latches onto the other man. Everything happens so fast. The man who came to your defence has the other man on his back on the mat in seconds, a knee on his chest as his fists clasp around the top of his tank top. He bends over him and snarls. 

“Christ, bro, get the fuck off of me,” the man on the floor shoves on his arm helplessly.  

You glance around and notice the audience forming around you. Oh no. You look back to the two men. You step forward and tap the closest man on the shoulder, the one who defended you. 

“Please,” you croak nervously, “I don’t wanna get in trouble.” 

He turns his head, glancing back at you with powder blue eyes made bright by the dark row of his lashes. He exhales and lets go of the other man. He stands and puts his arm out as if to keep your behind him. 

“You really want me to repeat myself?” He sneers down at the other man. 

The larger man pushes himself up and scowls, shaking his head and he turns to stalk off muttering, leaving behind his forgotten dumbbells. The other man bends to pick them up and returns them to the rack. You look down at your empty hands then search the floor. 

You reach for your phone but it’s plucked up before you. The man brings it up between you and holds it out. You take it with a thank you. 

“No problem,” he rasps. 

“I... you didn’t have to--” 

“That guy’s an—he's not nice,” he corrects himself and drags his hand over his mouth and chin, “I don’t like bullies.” 

“It’s my fault,” you shrug, “I was in the way. But er, thanks. I'm... I’m sorry.” 

You turn away and look back at your phone. The app isn’t working. It says it needs another update. 

“You need help with something?” The man asks. 

“I...” you peek at him over your shoulder, “yeah, I... I don’t... I don’t usually... it’s my first time.” 

He nods and hums as he steps closer. You face him and show him your phone. You’re jittery as it trembles in your grip. He’s a stranger. Your whole plan was to avoid those. 

“I got this app to help but it’s not working,” you frown. 

“Try the update?” He points his thick, long finger at the screen. 

You tap and keep the phone visible. The app shop comes up and the update button is grayed out. Underneath, italics read ‘this update is not available for this device’. You frown and bring the screen closer to your face. 

“It won’t let me,” you pout and flick your lashes, mortified. How are you this helpless? Why did you have to have a witness? Several. You look around, some eyes darting in your direction. 

“Hm, well, what are you trying to do? You said this is your first day?” He prompts, “I could... I could help out a little. If you need. I’m no trainer, I just do my own thing but I could try.” 

You bat your lashes up at him then look back at your phone. You don’t know what else to do. Your whole plan has fallen apart because your operating system is outdated. 

“I... I’m not very... athletic,” you explain, “so I can’t go very fast.” 

“That’s okay,” he assures you, “I can go slow.” 

“You don’t have to do that. I can figure it out.” 

“I know I don’t have to,” he shifts and peers over his shoulder, “but how about I stay close anyway,” he moves and you can see the guy from earlier staring daggers from a chest press, “just in case.” 

“Oh, I... I’m sorry,” you tuck your phone into the pocket of your leggings, “I made him mad.” 

“Let him be mad. Got nothing to do with you,” he turns back to you again, “I could take you through some stretches and basics; lunges, squats, stuff like that. As best I can.” 

“Erm, I guess... I don’t wanna be in the way,” you rub your neck. 

“Not in my way,” he says evenly, “lets grab some weights first.” 

He directs you to the rack and without a thought you go to it. He approaches beside you as you realise, you didn’t say yes, you didn’t agree to this, but you don’t know what else to do. 

“Start with some twos,” he advises, “and if you’re not getting a good burn, we can up it later.” 

“Oh, okay,” you grab the dumbbells with the large twos on the side. He grabs the twenties. You feel totally inadequate. 

“So let’s get out space,” he backs up and looks around the mat, “here should be good.” He bends and sets down his weights, "for now, let’s put these aside and start our stretches. You don’t wanna pull anything.” 

You nod and place your weights beside you. You stand and stare at him. He’s in good shape. Great shape. He makes you even more conscious of your neglect. You already feel breathless. 

“I’m Curtis by the way,” he steps forward and offers his hand. 

“Oh, uh,” you shake his hand and give your name. 

“Pretty,” he says as he squeezes before letting you go. His hand is huge compared to yours and the gap in your strength is obvious just in that small gesture. 

“Alright, easy, slow, arms out,” he extends arms, “roll your shoulders and your head, loosen up.” 

You watch him and hesitate to follow his direction. You hate that there’s so many people around. You don’t want to look stupid. You’re so ungainly and awkward.  

“Try not to think about it too much. We’re all just here to work out, right?” He says and you shy away, embarrassed that he noticed your discomfort. You raise your arms and start the stretches, “good, you’re doing good, angel. Make sure to breath, alright?” 

You roll your shoulders and head and blow out a breath. Your nerves are pinging all over and your muscles are shaky. This isn’t what you expected at all. Your plans fallen to pieces and yet, it’s not entirely a lost cause. 

“Arms up,” he guides you into the next exercise, “on your toes, reach as far as you can...” 

You obey, letting his voice guide you. His deep, calm timber is almost comforting. The even tenor is a stark contrast to chaotic nervously. You can get through this. 

#curtis everett #dark curtis everett #dark!curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #drabble #gym au #au #sweaty palms #snowpiercer #series

[tomieafterdark]

hate fucking with Eren drabble..18+

want more? I got you<3 here’s my masterlist

pairing: Eren x fem!reader

cw: hate fucking, sex through the prison bars from that one season 4 scene, no prep but reader is wet enough by just seeing Erens drastic glow up, vaginal sex, ass slapping, choking, hair pulling.

a/n: I haven’t watched season 4 properly and that includes this scene so if something is missing you know why😭 anyways enjoy this drabble, I am having a writers block kinda so I am stuck on my requests and longer fics rip.

Hange just came back up from asking Eren some questions, it seems she didn’t have much of a breakthrough though.

“He kept babbling on about fighting…” she said and sat down with the others. She looks disappointed as she continues explaining what else had happened.

You wanted to go down and check on Eren knowing damn well Eren despises you. Ever since you first met, you’ve had this weird energy of constantly competing or tearing each other down. Deep down inside maybe you were just looking for a way to let out your pent up anger and sadness, to tease Eren or full on argue with him. You just needed an outlet for your feelings…

As you get closer to his cell, he is still mumbling to himself about fighting. What a weirdo. And he is shirtless with a freaking manbun, you take a minute to stare at him not knowing he is aware, his body looks like it was carved by the gods themselves. As much as you despised Eren, you couldn’t help but admit he was so attractive right now, he has changed a lot.

“How long are you going to stand there and not talk, you know I am not deaf. I heard you walk down.” He says, his voice is husky and sends chills down your spine. You hadn’t seen Eren for a while, last time you saw him he was annoying and whiny and just cried a lot…this time he is different. You bite your bottom lip. His face was hotter too, that hairstyle looks like it was invented just for him.

“Whatever.” You say in a bratty tone, and walk closer to him.

He doesn’t care, he is just sitting on the edge of the bed now. He looks annoyed, as if he was doing something important earlier and had been interrupted.

You start to bother him on purpose, hoping for a reply. He must be equally desperate to let out his pent up emotions because he argues back. Suddenly you and Eren are full on arguing about god knows what because it doesn’t make sense to anyone but you two. It goes from petty things to you bursting into tears, asking Eren why he has changed so much and why he is hurting everyone he once cared about. Eren doesn’t take kindly to that last part, you don’t know it but you hit a sore spot inside of him.

He grabs you by the collar of your shirt through the bars, eyes full of hatred and rage with a hint of pain and regret if you look deeper. You don’t stop there, you’re so angry and upset you end up bringing his mom into it, and then the real hell breaks loose.

He yells at you to leave her out of it, you scream back about everything that’s wrong with his behaviour and plans and how she would never approve of this. You’re trying to reach the little humanity he had left in him but it’s not working, the tension between you becomes weirdly sexual at some point. He can’t deny the tension and neither can you, he may have neglected his humanity but that doesn’t mean it’s not there deep within him, screaming to be let out, to express its feelings. The very feelings he has been pushing down to work toward his goal, pushing everything else aside. With you being here, and the sexual tension already between you the grief and pain chooses to express itself sexually.

He turns you around, with little care for how it affects you or if it hurt. He is rough with you, even though there’s literal bars between you he doesn’t seem to care. He pulls you in close, you can feel his breath on your neck. You giggle in response to Eren’s rough manhandling. “Geez, I didn’t know you had this side to you. Last time we argued it just ended with you crying like a bitch!” You laugh.

He slaps your face really hard in return, causing you to moan a little. Something about his cold broken energy just made you so attracted to him, and the carelessness and manhandling only made you more weak in the legs. You had not planned for this sexual tension to arise with Eren. Sure, all your arguing earlier helped you release the anger you were wanting to express but the sexual side of you needed release too and Eren’s glow up alone had awakened it. You hadn’t had sex in so long, too much work and too little time for anything else left you neglecting your sexual needs a lot.

You arch your back and push your ass up against Eren, to your surprise you’re met with some hardness. “Arguing makes you hard? You really are a mess Eren Yeager” you say to him in a snarky tone and laugh.

“Shut the fuck up, aren’t you the one pushing your ass all up against me like a bitch in heat?” He says in a husky voice that sends shivers down your spine. You almost accidentally moan yes daddy in reply, this new Eren has your mind racing. You just smirk back at him. “I’ll fuck this sly smirk off your face bitch, when I’m done with your ass you’ll be crying begging me to stop.”

“Ooh I’m so scared. Face it Eren, you couldn’t last a minute.” You brag, hoping to get a rise out of him and get manhandled even more. Oh how you wish those stupid bars weren’t between you, so Eren could have his way with you.

He chokes you in return and pulls your pants and panties down, you’re so wet just from this alone. It’s good you are wet because Eren was so pissed off he would’ve bottomed out in you wether you were wet or not. Your eyes roll back as you’re gasping for air, he is choking a bit too hard. He gets closer to your ear as he continues choking and whispers “spread your legs more bitch.”

You’re so dizzy from being choked you accidentally reply back “yes daddy” out loud instead of in your head and spread them causing Eren to chuckle, he low-key likes it and even more when you said it in the state you were in. He shoves his entire length into you, it’s so big it hurts causing you to wake up from your dizzy state. He knows you’re struggling to take it, from the way your body tensed up to the way you’re almost pushing him out is telling but he keeps pushing it in making you take it all. Your moaning is starting to get a bit to loud, which has him hiss “quiet you whore. Do you really want them to find you like this? All wrapped up around my cock moaning like a slut?” He lets go of your throat and puts it over your mouth, your muffled moans are still loud but it’s better than before. He keeps thrusting at a merciless speed, your body finally stopped resisting his sheer force and you’re taking him. Limp legged, barely able to stand up and he just keeps going, you can feel it reach all the way up in your stomach. He grabs your hand and makes you feel it. “Feel it slut, that’s me re-arranging your tiny little guts.” You cry out in return, it’s making you lose it, it’s just too much. You just want to collapse here and now, but Eren pushes your hand down on the bulge his cock is making on your pretty stomach. Your reaction is gold to him. “What was it about me not lasting huh y/n?” He snarks and starts slapping your ass, not once or twice but so many times your cheeks turn red.

You squirt all over Eren’s cock, orgasming so hard your cunt is once again trying to push him out. Eren just buries himself deeper inside you, feeling every small movement your cunt makes in hopes of pushing him out. Your breathing is getting faster, with legs shaking. “Please Eren, pull out for a second it’s too much” you cry out with tears running down your pretty cheeks.

“Shut the fuck up and take this dick” is all he says and starts fucking you deeper. He puts you on all four, positioning you into a mean painful arch even though there’s bars between you. He somehow reaches deeper into you with the position you’re in and you’re leaking all over the cold cement floor from your eyes and cunt. Eren is brutal, you had enough ages ago but he keeps going. You are so overstimulated you try to crawl away but you’re met with more brutal manhandling, he pulls on your ponytail keeping you in place. “What’s wrong y/n? You can’t last longer?” He mocks.

You end up getting your absolute brains fucked out by Eren, at the same brutal pace for what feels like hours. When he is done, you’re a mess. He didn’t stop until your cunt was overstimulated, bruised and gaping. You hear the others come down to check on Eren, you quickly put your clothes on. You’re struggling to stand as they come over, you’re just standing against the wall with your legs threatening to collapse any minute.

thanks for reading I didn’t proof read so sorry for mistakes 😵‍💫

© 2023 succubisblog | All rights reserved

#eren smut #eren x y/n #eren yaeger x reader #Eren Yeager smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #Eren jeager smut #eren aot

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 22.3k ❧ warnings: cursing, inaccurate descriptions of constellations bc this is a fantasy world ❧ genre: fluff, mild angst, slow burn, blind date, strangers to idiots friends to lovers, modern magical creatures au, college au, werewolf sungchan, human reader, ft. siren shotaro & various magical neos (and another extra special guest appearance!), same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: so this is technically the spiritual threequel to my two werewolf jeno fics (pupsick + abh) but you still don’t have to read those to understand this one at all! this is absolutely meant to be read by itself! and this one is also very self-indulgent, from the a.c.e song title to werewolf sungchan, i had a very great time on this one, hence the word count. if you guys have even half the fun reading this as i did writing it, you’ll have a blast. enjoy! ❧ sequel

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

baby i’m your changer, changer, love is not a danger

Reclined on the plush, soft grass of the front lawn of your college with your hands behind your head, you basked in a particularly lovely patch of sunlight. It was January, the very beginning of the year and the semester, meaning that this would normally be a very chilly and unpleasant endeavor. Except you were sandwiched between two dryads. Dryads weren’t in and of themselves extra warm like dragons or werewolves, nor could one dryad on their own change the weather—and would most likely be influenced by it rather than the other way other—but if you got two together, and they were in a good enough mood, they could generate a little bubble of springtime around them. And for some reason, Jaemin and Donghyuck were in exceptionally high spirits today.

You knew the two dryads from Magical Botany Club, which you had joined your freshman year after you’d managed to kill the small cactus that your parents gave you as a housewarming present for your dorm. They were the only ones who didn’t immediately label you a lost cause, and instead saw you as a challenge. Now, your junior year, your apartment was a jungle to rival that of a dryad’s home, and you were even Vice President of the club this year.

After a long, refreshing inhale followed by an even longer exhale, you finally asked, “So what’s got you in such a good mood? It certainly can’t just be finalizing the calendar of club activities this semester.”

Jaemin was club President, and Donghyuck the Secretary/Treasurer, so this little sunbathing session before the start of the semester on Monday was really supposed to be an Executive Board meeting.

“Who, us?” Jaemin replied innocently.

“No, I was talking to the cardinal on Donghyuck’s leg,” you retorted sarcastically, gesturing to said bird that had also settled in to enjoy the cozy rays.

“We’re not planning anything,” Donghyuck said in the same tone as Jaemin.

You propped yourself up on one elbow to look down at your friend properly, narrowing your eyes at him suspiciously. “I just wanted you to share whatever good news you had, I didn’t think you two were planning anything, but now I definitely do. What’s going on?”

“Donghyuck, you idiot!” The other dryad hissed at him.

“What is it? Don’t tell me you and that fairy are going to try to convince your human friend that aliens are real again. Leave that poor guy alone, he’s got enough on his plate just dealing with all of you being real and jerks to him.” You scoffed disapprovingly, remembering when they recounted that story to you at club a couple years ago. You had been tempted to check on Renjun yourself when you spotted him at the library the next day, but you didn’t know him personally, and didn’t think he’d appreciate it in the moment. Especially not since he looked like he was really focused on his work at the time, so you just let him be.

“It’s nothing like that, I swear,” Jaemin promised. “It’s nothing bad at all.”

You sat up all the way to be able to look at both of them at once. “Okay, what is it then?”

Donghyuck sat up too, the cardinal hopping up to his shoulder. “Long story short, we have a friend that we want to set you up with.”

“No thanks, guys.” You shook your head.

“You won’t even let us tell you about him?”

“I’m not really looking for anything right now. Not after my ex—”

Jaemin pushed his phone screen in front of your face then, a picture of a guy on it. It was presumably the friend they wanted to set you up with. He was around your age, tall—if where his head was in comparison to the doorway of this building was to be believed, wearing a black leather jacket. It looked well-worn, though, as if it might not have been his originally, handed down or thrifted at least. And yeah, he was cute, you weren’t blind. But you also knew not to just eat with your eyes, or else you’d get a tummyache.

“Seriously, Jaemin?” You looked at your friend over the phone screen. “You think I’m that shallow? One picture and I’m going to throw everything away?”

“Dude, show her the—” Donghyuck flapped his hand at the other dryad insistently.

“Oh, right, right.” Jaemin nodded as he began swiping and tapping on his phone fervently.

Donghyuck kept talking to you, “Of course we don’t think you’re shallow. We always meant to tell you about him, too. His name’s Jung Sungchan, he goes here, too, he’s a werewolf, he’s really nice, uh… Jaemin? Some help?”

You let out a sound that was a mix between a snort and a scoff. “Yeah, he sounds great.”

“Okay, he’s really more Jaemin’s friend than mine, sorry,” Donghyuck admitted. “Jaemin? What’s taking so long dude?”

“I don’t know! I can’t find it for some reason, I think he deleted it!” Jaemin muttered, his voice panicked. “I’m checking Jeno’s Instagram right now.”

“So Jeno knows him?” You asked. You didn’t know Jaemin’s werewolf roommate as well as you knew the two dryads, but you did know that they were all friends. “Are they in the same pack?”

“No, they actually know each other through Jeno’s… Ha! Found it!” Jaemin yelled out in celebration, flipping his phone around for you to see.

It was another picture, this time of Jeno standing next to the person you now knew to be named Sungchan. They were at what looked like a u-pick strawberry patch, each proudly holding up a large bucket filled to the brim with strawberries. Sungchan was in a white tank top—a brave choice for a strawberry farm—and shorts. Despite the outfit showing off a lot more of him than the last picture, it was his bright, happy grin that caught your eye, and you had to consciously make sure your gaze didn’t linger too long on the picture.

Turning your attention back to your friends, you prompted Jaemin, “Well? Do you know any more about him than he goes to our college and is a nice werewolf that knows Jeno?”

“Right! Yes!” Jaemin sat up straight at attention as you saw Donghyuck do a little fist pump of victory out of the corner of your eye. “He’s tall—”

“I can see that, he’s like almost two heads taller than Jeno; I meant his personality. This isn’t me saying yes, by the way.” You pointed to yourself and Jaemin talking. “This is me gathering data. I wanted to take time for myself after what happened with my ex, remember? I think it might be enough time, but I need a bit more than ‘he’s nice’ to get me out there.”

“Of course, of course. I really appreciate you even considering this for us,” he squeezed your arm for a moment before letting it go. “He’s really smart, Dean’s List every semester, uh, it might take a minute for him to warm up at first, but once he does, he’s funny, and insightful. And he doesn’t have that constant go-go-go energy that werewolves usually do, he’s so much chiller, so if you were worried about that, don’t be.”

“And, sorry, I know he’s your friend, but I have to ask…” You winced. “He’s not one of those werewolf guys that only dates human girls as like… you know… an ego thing?”

Donghyuck snorted, “Oh he’s not, promise.”

Tension you didn’t know you’d been carrying in your shoulders relaxed at that. “Good.”

“We do have to tell you one thing though,” Jaemin grimaced.

“What?”

“This isn’t just a random set-up because we think you guys would be cute—”

“Oh God, what’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing! Nothing!” He rushed to reassure you. “Like, that part is true, we do think you’d be a good match.”

“Let me guess: the ‘but’ that follows that sentence is related to the ‘long story’ that Donghyuck mentioned earlier?”

Jaemin nodded reluctantly. “Yeah… long story long, Sungchan made a deal, and his end of it was letting us set him up with anybody of our choosing.”

“You’re using a date with me to punish him?” You stood up, brushing the grass off your back. “Yeah, hard fucking pass. Thanks, guys, you really know how to make a girl feel special.”

“No, not a punishment!” Jaemin scrambled to get to his feet as well. As you walked off, the air around you turned cold again, marking when you left their bubble of spring. He called after you, “Y/N! I’m sorry! Please!”

You didn’t want to go back to your empty apartment yet though, so you found yourself meandering into a familiar storefront. Jasmine & Pearls, a boba tea shop just around the corner from your college campus. There was only one customer ahead of you in line, and you stared blankly at the menu just to look at something. You weren’t feeling very adventurous today, so you’d probably get your regular go-to order. After the customer before you had been helped, you shuffled up to the counter, messing with your phone case to pull your punch card out of the back of it.

“Hey, Y/N!” Shotaro, the siren working behind the counter today, greeted you cheerily.

The iridescent pink scales under the tip of his button nose and apples of his cheeks shimmered in the fluorescent lights, making him look like he had a perpetual hint of rosy blush across his skin. That, and his cherubic smile could almost make you forget what those scales and his flashing silvery eyes really meant—he was a siren, could lure you to your death if he so wanted to. Obviously, he didn’t want to, had no reason to, and that would literally be a murder charge nowadays, but you nevertheless found it fascinating that such a being was just here serving you boba tea.

A few months ago, you realized that you came here probably too often once all the workers knew your name, but by then it was too late. It was just too convenient, delicious, and pleasant of an atmosphere for you to feel ashamed enough to stop coming.

“Hi, Shotaro.” You smiled back at him. “Just a regular honey milk tea with boba, please. No charms today.”

“On it!” He accepted both your punch card and credit card from you. After handing them back, he spun around to make your drink, and you went to go wait for it at the bartop at the other end.

Curious, and with nothing better to do in that moment, you pulled up Jeno’s Instagram on your phone. From the main grid on his account, all you could see was pictures either with or of his partner. Cute. Then you finally saw one of them at a strawberry patch, Jeno in the same outfit as the picture Jaemin had shown you before. You clicked on that one, and sure enough it was a whole set of photos. You swiped through to find the one of him and Sungchan holding the buckets of strawberries. And Sungchan was tagged.

You looked up at Shotaro. The customer ahead of you still hadn’t gotten their drink. You checked the notifications on your phone. Nothing new to reply to. Well, here it goes. You clicked on his account.

And he was private. Well, good for him. Internet privacy.

You went back to Jeno’s Instagram to check if Sungchan had maybe appeared in any more posts. You just wanted to see if you could glean anything more about him.

You finally found him again in what looked like a big group trip to Cape Solaria at the end of last summer. There were probably fifteen people here at least. He popped up in a few different shots, playing beach sports with Jeno and some other guys that you didn’t recognize; joining in on throwing some poor small guy—who you presumed to be a witch, judging by the ritual tattoos he was covered in from neck to ankle—into the ocean; and sitting around a campfire roasting marshmallows with Jaemin and Renjun. And in every single one, Sungchan had such a genuine, pure, joyful smile. Like he was fully enjoying the moment and the people with him. Yeah, maybe you were projecting, but... surely it wouldn’t hurt to give it at least one chance?

“Y/N? Hello?” Shotaro was calling for you from the counter, shaking a drink that was presumably yours.

You snapped your head up, sheepishly turning your phone off and stuffing it away in your pocket. The other customer was nowhere to be seen; it was just you and the siren.

“Sorry, sorry.” You rushed up to accept the cup.

“It’s alright, you seemed like you were in the zone.”

You grabbed a straw, punching it out from the plastic wrapping. “In the zone of a little cyberstalking, as much as I hate to admit.”

“No shame here, we all do it. Who was it? Can I see?” He grinned mischievously.

“No,” you said flatly, stabbing your straw through the top of the drink. “My friends want to set me up.”

“Want to? Sounds like you haven’t said yes.”

“Perceptive.” You took your first sip.

“But you were cyberstalking them... So, you’re considering?”

“Ugh, I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Why not? Human lives are short.”

“Right. Thanks for that reminder.”

The bell above the front door rang then, announcing the entrance of another customer.

“Always here to help,” Shotaro patted your forearm before walking back to the register to greet the newcomer.

Two weeks later and you were nervously double-checking the name of the restaurant and the time that Jeno had sent you. Yep, this was it, and you weren’t weirdly early. You couldn’t believe how strange this felt, going on a date again. Comparing your outfit to the casual café as you walked in, you felt only a little better that you weren’t overdressed or underdressed either.

Your eyes scanned the building for Sungchan. You’d done enough cyberstalking on your own time in addition to the photos that your friends kept showing you to hype you up that you were certain you’d recognize him easily. It looked like you’d gotten here first. It was seat-yourself, so you might as well grab a table for the two of you.

You’d just come to a stop in front of a little two-seater and took your purse off to hang off the back of your chair.

“Y/N?” A voice came from behind you, accompanied by a gentle tap on your shoulder.

You spun around, immediately face-to-chest with someone. Looking up, you did, in fact, recognize the face of Jung Sungchan. He was admittedly cuter in real life than in the multitude of pictures that Jaemin and Donghyuck had continued to show you in preparation for the date. You didn’t want to know what they’d been doing to prepare Sungchan.

“Hi, Sungchan?” You still phrased it like a question, watching as the man’s features relaxed into an easy smile of recognition.

“Yes, hello.” He raised his arms up slightly at the same time that you did, and you realized that the both of you were now presumably having the same internal debate about if you were supposed to hug your blind first date hello as a greeting.

Ultimately, the two of you did go in for an awkward short hug, and you let out a nervous chuckle, feeling the warmth radiating off of him in the brief contact. You immediately looked down at the table, “Uhm, should we sit?”

“Of course, yeah.”

And as the two of you sat down on opposite sides, you looked up from your fidgeting fingers to your date’s face, not expecting his brow to be furrowed as if he were troubled by something, his gaze affixed on you.

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably. “Is everything okay?”

“You’re not wearing any perfume...” He commented, and you let out a minuscule sigh of relief. That’s all it was, he was just a bit put off that you hadn’t put on a perfume like one might’ve normally done for a date. A detail that he would’ve of course picked up as a werewolf.

“Not that I expect any brownie points for this, but I uh, I didn’t want to overwhelm your nose, in case there were any smells you’re particularly sensitive to,” you explained, picking up the menu that was already sitting on the table.

“You did your research.”

“Oh, I’ve dated a couple werewolves before, actually.”

“Really? You got a type or something?” As soon as the word were out of Sungchan’s mouth, he went to take them back, seeming surprised even at himself, “Sorry, that was—”

“No, no, I get it,” you cut off his apology, your tone reassuring. You knew that there were people who had a disturbing preference for werewolves, so you could understand why you dating now three werewolves might initially look a little suspicious. “Uh, I went to a kind of small high school. Private school. There were a couple of packs in my area that sent like all of their kids there, so my graduating class ended up being like 75% werewolves. It was just kind of statistics, I guess.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry about that, again,” Sungchan apologized once more, relaxing in his seat a bit more as he actually started to peruse his own menu.

“Anyway, that’s not a great first date topic.” You forced out a light-hearted chuckle.

“What’s not?”

“Past relationships? I think that’s third or fourth at least, don’t you?”

“Mm, yeah, of course. Sorry.”

Desperate to redirect the conversation to a much lighter, neutral one, you asked, “So what’s your major, Sungchan?”

“Earth Sciences.”

“Geology or Climatology track?”

He perked up at this. “Meteorology and Climatology.”

“And what made you want to study that?”

“Well, at first I thought I wanted to study astrophysics, but it was too much math and too little actual space. But I really liked my Intro to Weather class I took my first semester to cover a random credit so I switched to that and it stuck.”

“Wait, was it a morning Monday-Wednesday-Friday with Professor- Professor...” Suddenly, the memory struck you. “Oh! Hwang? Fall semester three years ago?”

“Yes, I believe so...” He answered, head tilting with intrigue.

“I think I had it too!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I took it to get that Science credit as well.”

“I’m sorry to say that I don’t remember you at all.”

“It’s okay, I don’t remember you either,” you laughed, just amazed at the coincidence. “It was a big auditorium.”

Sungchan must have figured out what he wanted, as he set down his menu and leaned his elbows on the table to give you his full attention. “So what are you studying?”

“I’m an Interdisciplinary Major,” you told him happily, thrilled that the conversation was going much more smoothly now. “I was a bit indecisive, too. Except I couldn’t find one thing that stuck like you did. So I chose two: Sociology and Magical Creatures Studies.”

His eyes dropped from yours as he scoffed under his breath, sitting back in his seat.

And there went your pleasant conversation again.

“What was that?” You asked tersely.

“I didn’t say anything.” He shook his head like he was trying to clear the unpleasant tone from the conversation, but you weren’t going to let him go that easily.

“No, but clearly you have an opinion. So go ahead.”

“Not really, I was just wondering if you’ve even dated anyone that wasn’t a werewolf.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “You think my major is just me cruising for a new boyfriend or something? Very expensive and essay-intensive compared to dating apps.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Y/N,” Sungchan held his hands up, looking back up at you again. His features turned apologetic. “I just… I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

“So were you going to actually ask me that if I didn’t confront you, or were you just going to make assumptions?”

“That really was rude of me,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, I mean… how do you ask someone something like that without coming off as a bit rude?”

“I suggest phrasing it like a genuine question instead of an accusation.”

“Right.” He took a second as if to compose himself, then asked, his tone much more conservational, “So, you said you dated a couple werewolves in high school. Uh, have you dated anyone else since coming to college, then? Before this?”

You did your best to return your own voice and manner to civility as well. “Dates here and there, but as for serious relationships, just one, I dated a human guy briefly.”

“And why did you break up? If you don’t mind telling me. I get it if it’s too personal.”

“It’s fine. He cheated on me.”

“So you’re of course looking for loyalty. Like, you know, a dog.” Sungchan fired back spitefully.

“Okay, I think we’re done here, Sungchan,” you declared, putting both your hands on the table to prepare yourself to stand.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he rushed to try to apologize for the umpteenth time that night, but you’d heard plenty by now.

“No, it’s fine, really,” you assured him, still moving to get up out of your chair and grab your purse. “You’ve obviously had some bad experiences in the past, none of which I’m privy to. It’s not fair to you to constantly be suspicious that your date has ulterior motives for being with you. But it’s also not fair to me to have to constantly defend myself either.”

He was quiet at that.

You continued, “We both deserve to be able to relax and have fun, and that’s clearly just not going to be able to happen. It’s okay, sometimes things just don’t work out. So, I’m going to go, and I hope you have a great rest of your day.”

And with that, you turned around and left the café.

The ringing of the bell above the door of Jasmine & Pearls barely registered in the back of your mind as you lumbered right up to the cash register the next day.

“Good afternoon, Y/N!” Shotaro greeted you cheerily.

“Hi, Shotaro...” You couldn’t muster up anything close to his level of enthusiasm, letting out a sigh. “Same old, same old, please.”

“Uh oh. Sounds like the date didn’t go so well?” He surmised, ringing you up then starting on your order.

“No, it didn’t,” you leaned against the counter to keep talking to him. “Barely lasted ten minutes.”

“That’s rough. You end it or did he?”

“I did. It was for the best but still... I thought I was going to really like this guy.” Based off nothing but social media posts and word of mouth from friends, but you really were hopeful. You’d had a good feeling, and had trusted Jeno, Jaemin, and Donghyuck. And it blew up in your face.

Note to self, never fucking trust those three again.

“Don’t feel too bad, Y/N. Seems like it’s going around.”

“What do you mean?”

“My roommate’s date last night was a bust too.”

“We should make a club,” you chuckled cynically.

“Or I can set you up?” The siren offered hopefully.

“Thanks, but I’m good. I said I was going to take some time to focus on myself after my last relationship, and I meant that. Last night was me testing the waters, and I fucking drowned.”

“That special, huh? Or, I guess not, in the end.”

“Well, at least now I know, you know? No ‘what if’s to mess with.”

Shotaro enthusiastically slammed your drink down in front of you. “Hell yeah, Y/N. A clear head.”

“Exactly.” You pulled the cup over to you.

He put the packaged straw down on top emphatically. “Fuck that guy.”

“Bit extreme, Shotaro, but I appreciate the sentiment,” you grinned, hitting the straw against the counter to pop it out from the plastic wrapping.

“You’re coming to our Valentine’s Day event next month though, right?” Your friend asked, pointing to the poster taped to the wall advertising the event. The evening of February 13th at the boba shop, with a special themed drinks menu and activities to do.

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Great!” He beamed at you.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go, and you’ve got more customers. See you.” You took your drink with you towards the exit that a whole gaggle of high schoolers had just come through, waving to the siren over your shoulder.

“Bye, Y/N!”

Pulling open the door of Jasmine & Pearls some weeks later, you were immediately greeted by an array of red, pink, and white. The entire store had been redecorated for the event. A short stage was set up against the far wall of the dining area, a small photobooth in another corner, and a station where you could learn to make an origami heart, if the pictures on the instructions taped to the wall above it were anything to guess off. The shop was already bustling and buzzing with energy, filled with couples and groups of friends. All in all, it looked like it was shaping up to be a successful night for them.

You got into possibly the longest line you could remember having waited in at Jasmine & Pearls in a while—you’d learned the rush times and had become a pro at avoiding them in order to get your boba fix as quick as possible—and continued looking around with a smile on your face.

Unfortunately, you were flying this one solo. Your friends were all either working or studying tonight, and you weren’t going to flake after already promising Shotaro just because you couldn’t find someone to come with you. But you could have plenty of fun by yourself. And, you didn’t make any promise to stay the whole night. You’d stay just to finish your drink and maybe make an origami heart or two, depending on how good you were at them.

Finally, it was your turn to order, and you walked up to the register already with a big smile on your face.

Shotaro was manning the register while another employee fulfilled the orders. Your friend’s face lit up immediately. “Y/N! You made it!”

“I told you I would. Did you doubt me?” You questioned in mock offense.

“Not for a second,” he declared. Pointing to the little standee menu that was on the counter, he asked, “So what’ll you have? I recommend one of our specials for the occasion, obviously.”

You looked over the three new drink options that were advertised as for tonight’s event only. One in particular caught your eye, strawberry milk tea with heart-shaped brown sugar tapioca pearls, and an added feel-good charm. “That Lovebug sounds good.”

“Perfect! I knew you’d get that one! Coming right up!” He rang you up, but only took your credit card from your hand. “Sorry, no regular punch cards tonight. Instead, every purchase of a drink comes with a special event-only punch card.”

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows as he handed you a small pink card with four circles on it, one already punched out with a heart-shaped hole punch.

“Yep! If you complete all the activities we have tonight, you can redeem it for a free drink! You’ve already gotten a punch for purchasing a drink, then we’ve got the photobooth—” he pointed to the large box. “Just bring your photo strips up here, and I’ll punch the card for you. And the origami, same thing. They don’t have to be professional, as long as you tried, just show them to me, and I’ll give you another punch. And then my boss, Baekhyun, is going to be hosting Valentine’s Bingo in like ten, fifteen minutes. He’ll punch everyone’s cards who participates.” He gestured to the stage, where you now saw a man starting to mess with a microphone and small table. “Don’t worry, you can play single.”

“Huh. Sounds good to me.” You tucked the card into your pocket. “Thanks, Shotaro.”

“Your drink will be out in a second!”

When you finally heard your name being called out by the other employee, you walked up and took the cup from him gratefully. It was another siren, who you weren’t nearly as familiar with as Shotaro, but you still offered Yuta a smile as you accepted the drink.

You looked at the heart-shaped boba at the bottom of the cup fondly. “Cute. Thanks, Yuta.”

“Of course! Now enjoy the ambiance.” Yuta shooed you away with a smirk.

You saluted him casually. “Heard.”

Meandering around the store, you took in the kitschy decorations in various heart, Cupid, rose, and arrow shapes all around. Despite your own striking out in the romance department as of late, you couldn’t find yourself wanting to muster up any morosity for the atmosphere. It was too endearing, and you were someone who just loved love. And maybe the feel-good charm in the boba pearls was doing its job pretty well.

Legally, Jasmine & Pearls couldn’t sell any charms that had effects as strong as alcohol, drugs, or hexes, or they’d need special licenses for that, but the little charms and enchantments available in some of their boba options could influence one’s mood for a short amount of time. Feel-good, tranquility, energy, focus, that kind of stuff.

A lot of the tables had been pushed to one side to make room for the stage, so you took your drink to the bar seating that was against a window, keeping your eye on the figure on stage. As he was readjusting the microphone, you caught a flash of scales under his skin, realizing that he too was a siren, and suddenly the employment choices felt a bit more intentional than coincidental.

Red and pink heart-shaped confetti had been sprinkled along the bartop, and you brushed some of it aside to be able to set your cup down. You were humming along to the love song playing over the speakers as you scrolled on your phone when you swore you heard your name. Straightening up a little, you listened carefully for it again.

“Y/N?” Someone gently tapped on your shoulder this time.

You turned around atop the stool you’d been sitting on, not prepared for who was behind you. Jung Sungchan was standing there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his worn black leather jacket. Honestly, you hadn’t thought much about him since your date five or six weeks ago. Your focus had been on school— with this being your junior year, you had a lot to get together in order to be ready to apply for grad schools, Botany Club, still going to work, and keeping up with friends around all this somehow. One failed date that wasn’t even in your top five worst dates hadn’t really been keeping you up at night. And yet somehow here he was.

You were sure that the surprise was evident on your face, and you probably left just too long of pause hanging in the air before you finally said something. “Oh, Sungchan, hi.”

“I thought that was you. Hey.” He offered a friendly smile.

“How are you?”

“I’m—” He was cut off by a distant shout of his name that only got closer.

“Hey! Sungchan!” It was Shotaro, the siren approaching with a prepared drink and straw, shoving them in the werewolf’s hand. “Dude, you can’t just walk away from the counter like that while we’re making your drink, then I have to come chase you down when you don’t hear your name.”

Sungchan accepted it from the employee guiltily. “Sorry, Shotaro.”

“Anyway! I’m glad you two have met.” Shotaro beamed at the pair of you, throwing an arm around Sungchan’s neck. “Y/N, this is my roommate I was talking about, Jung Sungchan. Sungchan, this is Y/L/N Y/N, she’s a regular here and goes to our college.”

Your eyes widened minutely in alarm as you suddenly connected way too many dots. Oh god, Shotaro’s roommate had an awful date, Sungchan is Shotaro’s roommate, you and Sungchan had gone on a date that night, the very same date you had also complained to Shotaro about. And who knows what terrible things Sungchan might have told the siren about the date, about you. After all, you had been the one to walk out on him.

You felt like you were going to puke as Shotaro gave Sungchan a sharp slap on the shoulder, winked at you behind his roommate’s back, and walked back to his station behind the counter.

After a heavy, long, awkward pause, Sungchan finally spoke up. “So… what did you get?”

“Oh, uhm… the Lovebug. What about you?”

“Me too, same. Lovebug.”

Another pause as you watched Sungchan open his straw and poke it through the plastic seal covering the top of the drink.

“So are we going to address the elephant in the room?” You decided to just get it over with.

“Which one? I feel like we have a whole herd at this point.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Okay, fair. I meant Shotaro. I’ll be the first to admit that I confided in him after our—I’m sorry to say but—disaster of a date.”

“That’s a generous assessment, actually.” Sungchan agreed. “And I told him about it too. I mean, we live together, it was hard for him not to notice when I came back home less than an hour after I left.”

“Ah, yeah…”

“I didn’t say anything bad about you, by the way. I told him it went horribly, because I ruined it, of course, but you were perfectly lovely. Truly way more level-headed than I deserved.”

“Oh, no, Sungchan,” you tried to reassure him. “Really, like I said before— Sometimes things just don’t work out.”

“I know. But still, I treated you awfully, and I am really, really sorry about that.”

“Thank you.”

A crackling came from the speakers up front, snapping your attention back to the man on stage. Baekhyun had gotten the microphone connected, and you saw Shotaro darting from the stage to his spot at the register as his boss called for everyone’s attention. “Hello? Hello? Great, this is working.”

He flashed a dazzling smile to the small crowd. “Hi, if you don’t know me, I’m Byun Baekhyun, I own Jasmine & Pearls here. If you’re in line, don’t panic, we’re not starting quite yet. I just wanted to thank everybody for coming out here tonight, this is honestly a much better turnout than we had expected. I, of course, also want to thank my two incredible employees, Shotaro and Yuta, for working tonight too.”

The two sirens behind the counter both waved as they got a round of applause, then everyone’s eyes were back on Baekhyun.

“We’re going to be starting Valentine’s Bingo in about five minutes or so. I just want everyone to know that you will need a partner for this. So if you came out here by yourself, find another single person out there and you know… get talking.” He grinned, and you swore his gaze lingered on you and Sungchan for a millisecond too long to be coincidental. “Okay, awesome, I’ll be back up here in five to get it started.”

Your eyes flashed over to your friend that was working, remembering exactly when he told you that you could play the game by yourself, and now suddenly you needed a partner. Shotaro was contentedly ringing up a customer’s order, though, seemingly not even paying you nor Sungchan any mind.

“So, uh, want to partner up? For the bingo?” Sungchan asked, then rushed to tack on, “Unless you’re waiting for somebody?”

“I’m not waiting for anybody,” you smiled, gesturing to the stool beside you for him to sit down.

“How have things been with you?”

“Good, they’ve been pretty good. Just a lot of school and Bot Club.”

“Bot Club?”

“Magical Botany Club. I’m the Vice President this year.”

“Oh, cool. So that’s how you know Jaemin, then.”

“Yeah, yeah. Him and Lee Donghyuck, we’re all on the board together.”

“How’d you get into it?”

“Because I sucked at gardening,” you admitted with a laugh. “My freshman year, my parents gave me this cactus to have in my dorm, and I killed the thing somehow. They can survive in deserts and the most extreme climates in the world, and it perished in my dorm room. I joined Bot Club hoping for some tips, and everyone just immediately thought I was beyond help. Jaemin and Hyuck were the only ones who actually took the time to help me. And it took a lot of time.”

Sungchan was smiling too, genuinely. “You must have grown to really like it, to stick around after getting your cactus caretaking tips.”

“Yeah, I do.” You nodded. “What about you? How’s school been for you?”

He grimaced a little. “Could be better, honestly.”

“Oh no? Why? What’s wrong?” You frowned.

Before Sungchan could answer, another person had approached the two of you. It was Baekhyun, a stack of square bingo cards in one hand and box of markers in the other. His silver eyes seemed to glitter in the lights as he smiled at you, his opalescent scales refracting a whole rainbow of colors where they sat just under his skin along his cheekbones, bridge of his nose, and forehead.

“Hi!” He greeted the two of you cheerfully. “Are you two together?”

“Oh, uh, yes,” Sungchan nodded, reaching out to grab your bingo sheet and marker before the store owner flitted off to the next pair of customers.

He set them down on the counter in between the two of you, but your focus was still on your conversation.

“So what’s wrong, Sungchan?” You asked, taking another sip of your drink.

“I mean, it’s just been a bit stressful is all,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “One of my professors asked me to do research with him, and then I took an SI position with another professor too, on top of all my classes. Just kind of got a lot on my plate.”

“Oh, okay. But that sounds like a great opportunity, at least. Your professor asking you to do research with him.”

“It is, it’s some seriously cool stuff.”

“What’s—”

Baekhyun clearing his throat into the microphone from the front cut you off, and you gave the werewolf an apologetic look.

“Sorry. But I do want to hear about it later, Sungchan,” you squeezed his arm before turning around to face the stage.

“Alright, we’re going to be getting started then.”

As Baekhyun kicked off the first round of bingo, you found yourself tapping the marker against the bingo card as you sat there. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sungchan awkwardly leaning over as he tried to look at the sheet too, and you realized you’d been hogging it.

“Oh, sorry, here,” you moved the sheet more into the middle, at the same time that you scooted your stool over towards him to lessen the gap between you. “Is that better?”

Sungchan’s shoulder was just behind yours as he looked over you at both the card and the stage. “Yeah, yeah, thanks.”

“Did you want to mark them off? Sorry, I just grabbed it without thinking.” You offered the permanent marker out to him.

“No, it’s all yours.” He shook his head, then tapped his finger to the middle spot. “But you did forget the Free Space.”

“Oh, shit, thanks.” You crossed it off with an X.

Baekhyun called out number after number, and you and Sungchan worked together to search the small card for them.

You clicked your tongue as you couldn’t find the one the shop owner had just called out, and were about to pick your cup back up to take another sip of your drink, when Sungchan spoke up happily.

“Found it!”

“Oh, where?” You hovered the marker over the card, scanning the little letters and numbers.

“Right there.” He’d pointed, but his hand was gone too fast, and you lost it again.

“Wait, where?”

“Right…” he reached over to wrap his own hand around yours that was holding the marker, and dragged it over to the correct square. You giggled as he guided your hand to draw a messy X like you were a toddler learning to write your letters for the first time. “…There.” He finished, letting go of your hand.

“Ahh, okay,” you nodded slowly. “I see… I’m illiterate.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say it.”

“Hey!”

Sungchan laughed as you gave a half-hearted smack against his chest, and you couldn’t help but smile too. After all, it was your self-deprecating joke first.

He patted your back, apologizing through his chuckles, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Apology taken under consideration.”

“Oof, I don’t like the sound of that. Anything I can do to better my chances here?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, pretending to think as you tapped the capped end of the marker against your bottom lip.

Sungchan watched you, his elbow resting on the bartop and his cheek in his hand. The only thing separating you two was the bingo sheet, the game which you weren’t even focused on anymore. Your back was entirely turned to the stage now, gaze set only on the werewolf next to you.

Just as you’d parted your lips to make your proposal, you happened to hear Baekhyun announce the next number.

“O13!” The siren’s voice carried well through the speakers. “O13!”

You let your eyes flick down, immediately catching on that open square on your card. And it completed the row. You marked it off, a giddy grin spreading across your face as you went to elbow Sungchan. “Look!”

“Oh damn! Nice!” He raised his hand, as did you, as he called out. “Bingo! We got bingo!”

Baekhyun’s features lit up as he stopped his progress of reaching for the next bingo ball. He practically purred into the microphone, “Well, well, seems like we’ve got our first bingo. If one of you could read it out so I can double-check it, then we’ll see about getting you two your prizes.”

Sungchan called out your five spaces, and Baekhyun nodded with each one, the room erupting into applause when he declared that you two had won that round.

“Alright, come up here so I can give you your prizes and punch your tickets.” The siren waved you up.

You looked to Sungchan expectantly, and he gestured for you to go up ahead of him. Instead, feeling a bit uneasy with the entire café’s eyes on you, you latched onto his forearm and dragged him up right alongside you.

“So you each are getting a gift card to the shop—” He handed you two small cards, then turned around, where Yuta had appeared with a couple more items. Baekhyun then handed each of you a denim baseball cap that had the logo of the shop on the front in lilac purple thread. “And Jasmine & Pearls embroidered hats. Thank you so much for coming here and playing.”

You accepted both prizes from him, feeling over the embroidery on the cap with your finger.

“And if you’d give me your event punch cards, I’ll go ahead and give you your punches now, since you unfortunately, won’t be allowed to play to win again. Fairness and all that.”

You and Sungchan handed over your punch cards, and the siren gave each of you another heart-shaped punch before giving them back.

“Now, we will be playing two more rounds, so don’t worry if you didn’t win this time,” he announced to the rest of the crowd as you and Sungchan headed back to your seats. “I’ll hand out brand new cards to everybody, and we’ll restart. Y/N and Sungchan, you’re free to play again for fun, if you’d like. You just can’t play for profit.”

Sungchan looked over at you in a silent question, and you shook your head. You were happy to play and win just the one time. After all, with everybody else still occupied, this would be the perfect time to do the other activities with little to no lines or crowding.

“No thank you, we’re bingo-ed out for tonight,” Sungchan called out, and the host nodded graciously.

“Very well. Everybody else hold tight while I come around to distribute new cards.”

As the two of you finally sat back down at your seats and looked over your prizes, you realized that you had never introduced yourself to Baekhyun. Not when he had passed out the cards, nor when he was giving you your prizes. But he knew your names. You snapped your head up towards the counter suspiciously again, but Shotaro was once again minding his business, cleaning out one of the machines.

Sungchan was readjusting the sizing of his hat, then finally pulled it on, offering you a lopsided grin. “What do you think?”

“Looks good on you.” You tapped the brim of it, feeling a familiar airiness in your chest, one that you hadn’t felt in some time. “You wear baseball caps a lot?”

“For sure, so I’ll get good use out of this.”

“Wear them for fashion or do you play a lot of sports?”

“Oh, uh, both, I guess? I like how they look, and I usually wear them when I’m out playing whatever to keep the Sun off my face, yeah.”

The pictures from Jeno’s Instagram of Sungchan on their trip to Cape Solaria suddenly came to mind, and you diverted your eyes down to the gift card in your hand as your skin started getting warmer and warmer. At this rate, he was going to be able to hear your heartbeat picking up the pace and the idea of that in and of itself was embarrassing enough to make it gain even more speed.

“So…” Sungchan inhaled, and you looked up with both your eyebrows raised.

Admittedly, you’d completely forgotten where the two of you were in your previous conversation. “Hm?”

“Do you want to finish the other two punches together?” He asked. “I know they’re not partner things, but we’re both here, and everyone else is busy doing bingo, so it’s probably the best time to do them and—”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” You grinned at him, standing up off your stool. “I’d love to, Sungchan. Besides, you’re still supposed to tell me about your research, remember?”

His features lit up as he followed you over to the origami station. “Right, right! Are you sure you want to hear about it, though? It’s on climate change and how it affects human disease, it’s a little doomsday-ish.”

“Ah, perfect for the holiday.” You pointed to the giant paper cut-out of a cartoon Cupid hanging above your heads, then reached for your first square of red paper. “I’m sure, go for it.”

“Okay, cool,” he beamed at you, grabbing a piece of patterned pink paper.

As Sungchan walked you through all the intricacies and machinations of the topic that his research with his professor was on, you were genuinely happy at how much you understood. He didn’t mind slowing down to answer your questions, or explain concepts that you didn’t know already. And you two could have an actual conversation tangential to the topic, because you had taken a Magical Conservation class just last semester that dealt directly with how climate change was affecting a lot of magical creatures, such as sirens who typically lived in and around glaciers that were now losing much of their native habitats due to the lack of year-round sea ice at the poles. And all the while, you both tried your damndest to make an origami heart.

“Okay, what the fuck?!” Sungchan huffed, cutting himself off in the middle of a thought about disease vectors. He smacked his crumpled piece of paper that looked nothing like a heart onto the table. “I’ve taken engineering classes, how am I getting bested by a primary school arts and crafts project?”

“It’s not a—”

“It literally says ages 8 and up on the instructions.”

You pressed your lips together in a line. “Ah. So it does.”

Yours didn’t look much better. It seemed as though you were both getting bested by a project meant for children.

“Well, Shotaro did say we just had to show him we tried and we’d get the punch,” you reminded him.

“No, no, I can get this,” he shook his head, grabbing a fresh sheet. “I just need to focus, and not talk while I do it. You’re too much of a distraction.”

“My apologies, I’ll be quiet this time,” you chuckled, covering your mouth with your hand as you leaned against the table to watch him try again.

He made every fold with precision, but you found that you weren’t really watching him fold so much as you were watching him. His brow was set in concentration, a small crease emerging in the knit of his brows, his eyes narrowed slightly, and the very tip of his tongue poking out from between his lips. It was cute, adorable, endearing, everything in the thesaurus, and you could’ve sat there and watched him fold origami hearts all night if he wanted to, punch card and free drink be damned.

Sungchan stood up straight, his features relaxing into a proud grin as he held his completed piece up for you to see. It was definitely a heart this time, a simple baby pink color, and you were amazed at how straight the lines were.

“Nice, Sungchan!” You praised him. “That’s what those engineering classes were for, huh?”

“I wasn’t going to let some project for ages 8 and up that Shotaro picked out get the best of me!” He declared, and you could practically see his chest puffing out with pride. “I’m not going to give him the satisfaction.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So that’s what this was? Fragile STEM major ego?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Isn’t sociology a science?”

“I think you’re the first hard science major to ever say that.”

“It ends in -ology.”

“So do phrenology and astrology.”

“Fair. But seriously, is it not?”

“It is. But usually, you engineering and whatnot majors don’t like to consider us ‘soft sciences’ like sociology and anthropology and psychology to be ‘real sciences,’ whatever the hell that means.”

“Ohh, yeah… I’ve got better shit to do than tell a scientist that they’re not a scientist.”

“Like make children’s crafts.”

“Exactly.” He gave you another smile brighter than the Sun.

You nodded firmly. “A much better use of your time. Now, are you ready to take these to Shotaro?”

“Yeah, let’s go!”

As the two of you walked up to the counter, you continued your earlier conversation, “And I will remind you that I’m actually an Interdisciplinary major, and also study MCS. Both of which are considered humanities, a label that I wear with pride, even more so than the ‘soft science’ one.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Sungchan’s mouth as he looked down at you. “Noted.”

Shotaro was standing at the register, hands folded over each other and a smug smile on his face as he watched the two of you approach together. “Well, hey, guys! Congrats on your win!”

“Thanks, Shotaro.” You smiled back, holding your paper heart out to him. “We did the origami too.”

Sungchan held his up too, and you could see the proud look on his face as he did so.

“His is a lot better than mine,” you admitted as the siren took just a second to appraise them. Seeing the two side-by-side, yours was a bit misshapen, folds across parts that were supposed to be flat from you having to undo and redo parts over and over again.

“That’s okay! You guys just had to try,” Shotaro reminded you, picking up the hole punch. “Punch cards please?”

With just one punch left, you and Sungchan headed over to the photobooth in the corner. It was set up so that you didn’t have to pay for any of the films. Sungchan climbed in first, and you watched nervously where his head almost hit the top of the entrance.

“Goddamn this thing is tiny,” he observed as soon as he had poked his head in past the curtain.

“Is it small or are you a giant?” You asked pointedly.

Sungchan had fully entered the photobooth then, and retorted back, “Get in here and find out.”

As you parted the curtain and put just your first foot in, you immediately realized how cramped the two of you were going to be. “Okay, maybe a bit of both.”

“Uh-huh.”

Sungchan was already sat on the bench, and pressed himself as far back into the corner as he could to give you enough space to sit next to him. Your leg was squished in next to his, and his arm ended up around your shoulders. He was warm, as expected for a werewolf, whose body temperatures all ran naturally higher than humans.

As he shifted his shoulders and arm to settle around you, he double-checked, “Sorry, is this alright? It’s tight in here—”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you turned your head to give him a smile, but were instead caught off-guard by just how close his face was to yours. If either one of you shifted forward right now, you would hit noses. Your breath hitched in your throat as you made eye contact with him. Oh, he could definitely hear your heartbeat in the tiny space afforded by the photobooth, surely as clear as you could hear it thudding in your own ears. God, you’d always thought he was cute, but something about being so close, and the lights in here hitting the angles of his face just right, he was striking, handsome. You curled your hands into fists in the material of your pants, not trusting yourself not to grab him and do something too wildly out of pocket.

The screen played a short melody at you, knocking you from your trance, and you turned your focus back to your task.

Pressing a couple buttons on the touchscreen, you looked between the height of the camera and Sungchan, squinting. “Is your head even going to show in frame?”

Sungchan swallowed, then cleared his throat before he spoke, as if his mouth had gone dry. “Guess we’ll find out after.”

“Alright, it’s a four-cut.” You announced after skimming the easy illustrated instructions. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” He gave you a thumbs up.

“Okay. 1, 2, 3.” You pressed the start button before sitting back in your seat against him again.

You smiled and held up a peace sign for the first one, and in the split second of the flash going off, you heard the werewolf next to you curse under his breath, “Fuck! That’s bright—” accompanied by the feeling of him flinching back, and immediately followed by a distinct thud.

Turning around as much as the space could allow for, you saw Sungchan curled in on himself, his eyes squinted shut presumably both in pain from the flash and from where he had just smacked the back of his head against the wall of the photobooth, judging by the hand he was cradling it with.

“Ooh! Sungchan, are you alright?” You asked through giggles, unable to get over the comical thunk! sound that his head had made.

Another flash went off, startling him into hitting his head again with another bonk! and this time you couldn’t help but burst out into full-bodied laughter, turning back toward the camera to not laugh directly in the poor guy’s face. You could barely see the third and fourth flashes because your eyes were squeezed shut as you laughed, running out of air and having to prop yourself up with a hand on Sungchan’s knee to not keel over.

Finally, you started sobering up enough to squint your eyes back open, and through your tears, you saw Sungchan smiling down at you as well.

“Alright, I don’t know if it was that funny…” he sighed, still holding his head.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” you tried to apologize through your wheezes. “It was the sound, and the two in a row, it was just too much for me. I’m not laughing at your pain, I promise. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. Thanks.” He reassured you, dropping his hand from his head and resting it on the one that you still had on his knee. “I… I really like your laugh.”

Your hand suddenly tingled. “Oh. Thank you…”

After a beat, he shifted his gaze from yours. “So where do the films print out at?”

“Uh, on the outside of the booth. Should be two, one for each of us.” You said quickly, getting up to exit the booth and put some space between the two of you again.

Sungchan followed you out, and you easily found the dispenser, where there were in fact two film strips. He grabbed them for you, looking over them first. A smile spread across his face as he continued holding them, and you started getting antsy the longer that you hadn’t seen them.

“What, are they that bad?” You asked with a light chuckle.

“What?” He snapped his focus up to you.

“You’ve been smiling at them for an awful long time. Did I blink or something?” You joked, knowing very well that you were laughing for half of them.

He sucked in air through his teeth, shaking his head regretfully. “Yeah, I think for your own sake, I should keep both of these. I mean, I look great but—”

“Sungchan, let me see!” You reached for them, but he yanked his hand back from you at the last second.

You lunged for them again, but he once again kept them just out of your reach, a sly grin on his lips. The next time you tried to grab them, he held them above his head, and he most unfortunately had a significant height advantage over you.

You were already in his personal space from grabbing for them before, practically chest-to-chest (well, really chest-to-face), and now had to crane your neck straight up to look at them. With a huff, out of breath, heart racing for more than one reason now, you weakly pulled on his shoulders as you pouted, “Sungchan, please!”

“Here, I warned you.” He said melodramatically, handing you one copy of the film strips.

You eagerly held it in both hands, scanning over the four pictures on it. The first one was normal, it looked like Sungchan had taken your lead and both of you were smiling and throwing up peace signs. The second one was where everything went to chaos. Sungchan was wincing in pain in the corner, holding his head, as you had the back of your head to the camera, one hand reaching uncertainly towards him. In the third, you were turned back towards the camera, a little blurry as you laughed, and Sungchan was squinting one eye open to look at you. And in the last one, you were still laughing, leaning on Sungchan for support as there was nothing but simple joy on your face; and Sungchan’s features had relaxed out of pain as he gazed down at you with a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Not as wide as yours was, but no less dim.

“These are so cute! You liar!” You elbowed Sungchan in the side.

“You didn’t let me finish. I look great, but you look radiant.”

“Good save.” You joked, but couldn’t suppress the smitten grin that wormed its way across your face. “And I’m keeping mine.”

Sungchan reached into the pocket of his jacket then, pulling out his pristine, baby pink origami heart from earlier. He held it out to you. “I-I wanted you to have this, too.”

“Aw, Sungchan…” You accepted the paper heart from him.

“Feel free to throw it out when you get home, I get it.”

“Hey, stop that.” You pinched his forearm where the sleeve of his jacket had fallen down. “Don’t do something sweet and then immediately take all the sincerity away by covering it with a layer of self-deprecation. If you’re going to be a sweetheart, own up to it or don’t do it at all.”

He rubbed at the back of his neck, and you could see a flush creeping up from his collar to his cheeks. “You’re right. I wanted to give you that, sans trash can.”

You were beaming, tucking it into the inner pocket of your jacket and patting it. “Thank you, Sungchan. I’d offer you mine, but I think it really should go in the trash.”

“Look who’s not taking her own advice, hm?”

“Alright, if you want it,” you sighed, taking your own lumpy attempt at the origami heart out of your pocket and handing it over to him.

Sungchan plucked it from your fingers smugly. “Thank you.”

“I expect you to be buried with that now, by the way.”

“I’ll be sure to write it in my will.”

The two of you were still chuckling as you walked up to the counter again, your film strips and punch cards in hand to show them to Shotaro. Your siren friend reviewed the pictures with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You guys are so cute,” he commented so very subtly. “But uh, what happened here, Sungchan? Did you hit your head on something? How did you manage that one?”

As you covered your mouth to hide your giggles at the memory of the double bonk! resurfacing, Sungchan took his film strip back from his roommate. “Alright, are you going to give us the punches or not?”

Shotaro punched the final heart-shaped holes into both your cards. “And with that you’ve completed all the punches! Unfortunately, you can’t redeem the free drink tonight, but by all means, you are more than welcome to stay and hang out some more. We’ve got extended hours tonight, so you can keep doing the activities if you like, or just, you know… stay and chat or something.”

“Right, thanks, Shotaro.” Sungchan led you away with a hand on your back.

You ended up back at your original seat that you had sat at for the bingo game. The game finished while you were in the photobooth, the other patrons now milling around the shop again. Some were sitting, sipping on their drinks and enjoying each other’s company, others at the origami stations, others lining up at the photobooth, and still others back at the register ordering again. You looked down at the film strip in your hands before tucking it away safely with Sungchan’s origami heart. Looking around, you saw that Baekhyun was making rounds now that he was done hosting bingo, greeting customers and having conversations with everyone he stopped to talk to.

You didn’t want to leave yet, to have this night be over, to have your time with Sungchan be done. At least not without knowing if you’d see him again. This had been fun, really fun, and you wanted to see him again. Every bad first impression of him you’d gotten from your date had been wiped away.

“Hey, Y/N?”

You snapped your focus back over to him at the sound of his voice, trepid and unsure. You offered him a reassuring smile as you replied, “Yeah, Sungchan?”

He had taken his hat off, and was messing with the seam along the bottom band nervously. “I know I already said this, but I really am sorry for everything I said to you before. I was so incredibly wrong about you.”

“And I’ve already said thank you, so I suppose I’ll say I forgive you this time.” You squeezed his forearm. “So would you stop apologizing now?”

“I know we can’t start over completely, but…”

“Yes?” Your voice pitched up hopefully, your heart soaring along with it.

“Friends?”

Splat. Your heart plummeted back down with tremendous velocity.

It took all your willpower to keep your face from showing the disappointment you’d felt, and even then, you were sure it still fell minutely. You slapped on a rehearsed, customer service smile for him, too shocked that you’d apparently misread everything so badly to do much more than go through a script of what you should say. “Yeah, sure. Friends.”

Sungchan beamed at you, another heart-stopping, adorable, lopsided grin that now made your chest squeeze painfully. “Okay, great! Thank you, seriously!”

You threw open the door to Jasmine & Pearls the next morning so violently that it swung back the other way and rang the bell twice.

“Shotaro.”

The siren perked up to greet you. “Oh, Y/N! Back to redeem that free drink already, huh?”

“Sungchan here?” Your eyes flicked around the shop warily. You couldn’t see him, but now that you knew that the two of them were roommates, you had to be more careful.

“Oh, I see.” Your friend grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. “No, you just missed him, actually, he had class, popped in on his way to campus.”

“Thank god,” you groaned, collapsing into a stool near the pick-up counter, face in your arms.

“Uh, I’m going to make you a drink. Your usual?”

“Sure…” You mumbled, the sound even more muffled by your arms.

As Shotaro prepared the drink, he picked your conversation back up. “Now, what happened? You two looked like you were having a lot of fun last night. Not to pat myself on the back too hard.”

You lifted your head up just enough to rest your cheek on your arms so your friend could hear you when you spoke. “Did he tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Remember that awful date I went on last month?”

“Vaguely.”

“And Sungchan went on a bad date the same night.”

“Yeah. Did he do some kind of ‘all cards on the table’ confessional with you to try to scare you off?” Shotaro sighed, tossing his hand towel over his shoulder and putting his hands on his hips. “Listen, don’t worry, I know he says he ruined his date that night, but really he’s a big puppy—don’t tell him I said that, he’ll tear my throat out.” He paused, as if realizing what he had just said. “And don’t worry about that ‘tear my throat out’ thing either, I swear he’s super sweet. Honestly, something must have been wrong with that girl, he’s not—”

“It was me.” You cut him off bluntly.

“Huh?”

“Sungchan and I were each other’s terrible date that night.”

The siren slapped a hand over his face with a groan. “Oh my god, what did he do?”

“Now you think he did something? Two seconds ago, you swore there was ‘something wrong with that girl.’” You raised your eyebrows.

“Yeah, but I know you, Y/N. Him saying he fucked up and made you walk out? I can believe that.”

“We don’t have time to unpack all of that, but thanks, I guess.” You settled your cheek in your hand instead. “Anyway, it was all a mismatch at the time. He had his reasons, and I had mine, and I left. I didn’t harbor any ill will towards him, nor had I even thought about him until last night.”

Shotaro snorted, placing your finished drink in front of you. “Oh, well, can’t say the same for him.”

“What?”

“Whatever he did, he felt terrible about it. He kept talking about how he wanted to apologize to you, but he didn’t think you’d want to see him.”

You blinked at him. “Seriously?”

“I just thought it was like when you accidentally say ‘you too’ when the waiter tells you to enjoy your food and then you can’t stop thinking about that interaction for the next six months.”

Remembering the gist of your very short conversation from your one and only date with Sungchan, you shook your head. “No, not quite.”

“But it seems like you two made up last night, right?” Shotaro asked, head tilted.

“Yes, last night was so much fun. It’s what our first date should have been. We got to talk, and get to know each other, and joke, and laugh, and maybe flirt a little bit; and he’s funny, and smart, and a lot of fun...” You explained, trailing off pitifully at the end.

“So what’s the catch?”

“Well, I don’t know why I thought that at the end of the night, when he said,” you dropped your voice to mimic Sungchan, “‘I know we can’t start over completely, but—’ I don’t know why I thought that was going to be followed up by him asking me out, but it wasn’t.”

The siren’s jaw dropped. “It wasn’t?”

“Nope. Friends...” You said with weak enthusiasm, giving him two thumbs-up and a feigned smile as if you were being held at gunpoint.

“Ooh, Y/N...” Shotaro grimaced.

You dropped your head into your hands in defeat. “And somehow I feel even stupider than I did leaving that date.”

“I’m going to ask him what the hell he’s thinking.”

“No the fuck you’re not!”

“Y/N—”

“I told you this in confidence, Osaki Shotaro, not so you could you blab how pathetic I am right back to him!”

“But I just did that with him to you.” He pointed out innocently. “Seems a bit unfair.”

“Thanks for just agreeing with me on the pathetic part.”

“Well—”

“You’re not helping!”

“I’m trying!” He threw his hands up in exasperation. With a sigh, he came up to lean against the counter, voice turning sympathetic once more. “Look, Sungchan probably just thinks that you would want nothing to do with him romantically after he ruined it so stupendously last time. So he doesn’t even want to put you in the awkward position of rejecting him again— or, he at least thinks you would reject him again.”

“You really think so?” You asked quietly, watching a bead of water run down the side of your cup.

“Best I can come up with.”

And all the hope in your chest puttered out like a limp, half-filled balloon. “So that was a guess.”

“I’m a siren, not a mindreader, sorry.”

“Ugh, I’ve got to go. Thanks, Shotaro. For the boba. You were useless otherwise.”

“Bye!” Your friend waved to you cheerily.

Being friends with Sungchan was pretty easy, actually. You already had a lot of the same friends (it was sort of weird that you hadn’t met before that date, you realized), and as long as somebody else was there, it was easy to ignore the ever-present, ever-growing crushing pain in your chest whenever you were with him. You didn’t like that it was like this, you hated being that person pining over one of their friends who had explicitly said that they just wanted to be friends. You’d tried to get yourself to feel like this about other guys—the cute phoenix in your Criminology class, or the funny gryphon that you were partnered up with for a project in your Introduction to Interdisciplinary class. But it was useless, your thoughts always came back Sungchan. And you weren’t friends with him in hopes that one day it would be different, either; you really didn’t want to be that friend. You were just enjoying Jung Sungchan, in whatever capacity you got him in.

And right now, that was a rather tenacious study buddy. When you’d off-handedly mentioned an upcoming test that you hadn’t studied for yet, he immediately made you compare schedules so that the two of you could do a study session before it. So now you were reviewing flash cards of some key concepts as Sungchan was hunched over a notebook of his own. Working on his research with his professor, you were pretty certain. He switched between his computer and handwritten notes so frequently that you weren’t sure how he kept it all straight, and all the numbers and Greek letters and letter letters made your head swim trying to decipher it. As long as it all made sense to him.

It all mostly made sense to you when he would explain it to you, if you were actually listening to the words he was saying and not just thinking about how nice his voice sounded, or how pretty he looked that day. Your brain was truly rotting from the inside out.

And you two were alone. You didn’t know if he had invited any of your other friends and they couldn’t make it or if this was a “just us” thing. That was something that he did that always made it so hard for you to keep your rule of never hoping for more. Sometimes you two would hang out and invite Shotaro and Jaemin and Jeno and Jeno’s girlfriend and maybe even some more of their friends that you weren’t as familiar with; and sometimes when you’d ask if you should invite anybody, Sungchan would reply with a shoulder shrug and a casual non-explanation that this should be a “just us” thing. You could never delineate what made an activity worthy of a group invite or a “just us” thing.

You stared at your screen with immense focus. Not on what was on the screen, your thoughts had long drifted from dryad folk tales and were now in an endless rumination on what the hell a “just us” thing was. You’d been to group study sessions and study sessions with just Sungchan. Group movie nights and movie nights alone with Sungchan—those were an especially bittersweet kind of awful, as he liked to share blankets. Group dinners and dinners with just the two of you. So what made something a “just us” activity? What was the—

Something in your periphery caught your attention, and snapped you out of your pensive thoughts that you’d been stewing in. It was a small, white, origami heart being pushed up from the bottom corner of your computer screen. You took it, smiling at Sungchan across the table from you, who sat up straight now that he no longer had to reach so far to deliver it to you.

Upon second glance, it looked like the heart was made out of notebook paper from his spiral notebook with notes on it in blue ink. You squinted to make out some of It in his messy scrawl, but gave up after reading just a portion of a complicated, technical word.

“Thanks, Sungchan.” You ran your fingertip along the crisp edge of the paper heart.

This had been one habit he’d picked up since the Valentine’s Day event at Jasmine & Pearls, he now made origami hearts whenever his fingers grew restless and he had access to a suitable piece of paper that could be torn to size if needed. You were usually the target of receiving them and now had a steadily growing collection in a small jar on your coffee table. You didn’t have it in you to throw them away.

“Something wrong, Y/N?” Sungchan asked. He had presumably noted the intense way you’d been staring at your screen the moments prior. “Or is the material just that bad for your test?”

“Ehh…” You sighed, rolling your neck out. “Just tired. Ready for the semester to be over, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Is this made of your notes, by the way?” You held up the origami heart.

“Stuff I had to rip out and redo, I messed it up.”

You then stood up to crack your back, groaning at the cathartic cracking sounds that came with it. “God, I think my spine needs to be folded up like that origami, holy shit.”

“Fix your posture,” Sungchan snorted. “You sit like a little shrimp using a computer.”

Your jaw dropped as you put a hand to your chest, unsure of whether to laugh or be offended. Ultimately, you keeled over with laughter, having to plop back down in your desk chair—hunched over—to catch your breath again. Sungchan was watching you with a fond smile, reclined back in his chair with some not very great posture himself.

“A shrimp?”

“A little shrimp,” he corrected you. “A cute little shrimp using her little computer and fucking up her back in the process.”

“Alright, it’s not my fault you’re literally a tree. Anybody is a little shrimp compared to the man who almost broke a photobooth because he was too tall for it,” you teased him back through the fresh squeezing of your chest at him calling you ‘cute,’ even if it was followed by the words ‘little shrimp.’

“You’re never letting me live that one down, huh?”

“Never. I’ll be telling that story at your funeral, where you’ll be buried with my mangled origami heart, remember?”

“You’re banking on the fact that you’re going to outlive me in this scenario.”

“Right, my bad. Werewolves are the hardier species, so obviously you’ll outlive me.”

“Well, statistically—”

“Statistics say nothing about the power of spite, Sungchan. I will outlive you out of spite, so that I can tell that story at your funeral. And if not, I will have a backup recording of me telling that story, and in my will, have orders that it be played at your funeral.”

“You’re going to put it in your will to make sure you have the last word in case I outlive you? Which, statistically, I will.”

“Yes.”

The two of you held your defiant eye contact for another moment before you burst out in coordinated laughter, all tension fizzling out.

“I do expect that fucked-up origami heart to go down with you, though,” you pointed at him through your laughs, still only half-serious.

“Only if one of the hundreds I’ve given you by now makes it down with you,” he nodded, holding his pinky finger out.

You linked yours with it. “Deal.”

“Deal.”

As you walked out of the library together after you’d finally determined that your studying was over, Sungchan checked his watch.

“You doing anything else tonight?” He asked.

“Nothing in particular.” You shrugged. “Eating dinner. Sleeping. Why?”

“Want to come over?”

“Is Shotaro going to be home?”

“He’s closing at the shop today I think.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Apparently sensing your hesitation, Sungchan nudged your side as he teased, “What? Am I not fun enough for you? You need Shotaro there to convince you to come over, too?”

“Yeah, you’re such a snoozefest, Sungchan,” you wrinkled your nose, elbowing him back. “Taro’s the only thing that keeps me from falling asleep every time I’m over at your place.”

“You hurt me, Y/N.”

With a melodramatic sigh, you relented, “I suppose I’ll make an exception. But I will nap where I see fit if you bore me too much.”

“I’ll take my victories where I can get them.”

At Shotaro and Sungchan’s place, you followed Sungchan into his bedroom. Normally, if Shotaro were home, the three of you would all hang out in their living room. But it was just you and Sungchan.

He toed his shoes off and flopped onto his bed face-first, spread-eagle.

“Oh, and who were we worried about taking a nap?” You scoffed, taking his desk chair. He had a gridded whiteboard above his desk that was mostly taken up by a to-do list of upcoming deadlines. But a small area labeled “Notes” by the company who made it was dedicated to pictures instead: the film strip of you two from Valentine’s Day at Jasmine & Pearls hung there by a magnet in the shape of a hurricane, a picture from the group trip to Cape Solaria from last summer under a tornado, and another of a younger Sungchan and Shotaro (early high school if you had to guess) at an arcade pinned by a tsunami.

Your friend rolled over onto his back. “I’m not napping, just basking.”

“Basking? In what?”

“Being done with today.”

“Have a bad day?”

“Just long. Had a long week, long semester, long three years.”

“Mm, felt that,” you agreed, knocking your own shoes off and folding your legs up in the desk chair.

The two of you were quiet for a while, and you would’ve thought that Sungchan had actually fallen asleep, if you couldn’t see that his eyes were open as he apparently just stared at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling with even breaths. You let the silence remain, content to just rest your arms on the back of the chair with your chin atop them, and look at him.

“Y/N?” He finally spoke, his voice soft.

“Yeah?”

Sungchan’s head lolled so he could look over at you, his warm brown eyes focused on your face. He had an unreadable expression on his features; not one of sadness, or pain, or really much of anything. It was like he didn’t even know what he was feeling. “Have you gone on a date? Since... you know, the one we went on?”

You blinked. You weren’t sure what exactly you were expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that. After a moment, you shook your head. “No, I haven’t. Have you?”

The corner of his lip twitched, but from your positions, you couldn’t tell if it was pulling towards a smile or a frown. “No.”

Another beat of silence. You continued staring at each other.

“Do you want to?” He asked, his voice so unnaturally devoid of intonation that you once again couldn’t glean the purpose of this discussion.

“What?” The word tumbled out of your mouth fast, defensively.

“I-I mean, are you going to? Like, is there anybody...?”

You looked at him, taking a good few seconds before you answered. He at least seemed nervous now, stuttering, his eyes flitting between you and the ceiling fan.

“No.” You answered plainly. No qualifying statements: any attempts at expounding would just land you in trouble. “You?”

“No...” He echoed. “You would tell me, right? If you were?”

This felt like a trap. Not from Sungchan, you knew he wasn’t like that, but from the Universe, somehow. And no matter what you did, you were going to fall into the spike pit.

“Yeah, Sungchan, of course.” You mustered up your well-practiced casual smile. “Always need approval from the counsel of friends for that kind of stuff.”

He did smile at that—not a full one with teeth, and it didn’t reach his eyes—but he smiled and nodded. “Good. Got to make sure they’re not a weirdo. You know there’s all kinds of magical creatures who will just date human women for the ego trip in bed, right?”

“I did know that,” you chuckled. “But thanks for looking out for me.”

“Always am, Y/N. And I always will be.”

Rocking back and forth from your heels to your toes nervously, you kept your eyes trained on the apartment door in front of you. Sungchan knocked on it. Your actions were stopped by your friend grabbing your arm and pulling you back down to flat feet.

“Y/N, I told you it’s going to be fine, seriously. They’re your friends, too,” he reminded you for probably the twelfth time that day.

When he’d randomly texted you earlier that morning asking if you wanted to go to Jeno’s birthday party with him tonight, you were very hesitant to accept. Mostly because you hadn’t received an invite from the birthday wolf himself. But after some more pestering from Sungchan, you gave in. Maybe if you didn’t have such a weak heart, you would’ve been firmer on your no. But instead, here you were, having signed your name under Sungchan’s on the birthday card the two of you bought on your way over, a gift card tucked inside with enough money pre-loaded on it to cover a nice meal for Jeno and his girlfriend.

“Then why didn’t he—” Your whispered question was cut off by the door swinging open, the bright smile of Lee Jeno greeting you.

“Hey guys, come on in!” The werewolf opened the door even wider, not seeming surprised at all to see you there next to Sungchan. He gave the both of you hugs after closing the door behind you.

You patted his back in the hug, offering a sheepish smile, “Hey, Jeno, Happy Birthday. Sorry to just show up. Sungchan insisted it was fine…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it! Everyone knows if we’re inviting Sungchan that we’re inviting you, too. It’s cool.” He said brightly. “You want something to drink?”

Trying not to get stuck on that little information bomb he’d dropped so casually, you looked around the fairly packed apartment, recognizing most everyone who was there, including a couple people by the drinks table. “You know, I see Jaemin and Donghyuck over by the drinks, I’ll go get it myself. Thank you, though, and Happy Birthday again.”

Jeno perked up in a different direction as if he’d heard his name being called—which he very well could’ve with his superior hearing—and he took off, disappearing into the kitchen. You’d been to Jeno and Jaemin’s place a few times before, mostly to hang out with Jaemin over the time that you’d known the dryad from Bot Club, and more recently, a couple times for group hangouts since Jaemin, Jeno, Jeno’s girlfriend, and Sungchan were all friends.

“I’m going to get some food,” Sungchan nodded towards the same direction Jeno had gone in. “Want anything?”

You stood on your tiptoes, unable to discern any of the options they had available, other than the fact there would be a lot of it to feed the werewolf guests. “Just get extra of whatever you think I’ll like, I’m not very hungry right now.”

“On it.”

While he went to do that, you made your way across the living room to the two dryads you had spotted earlier, both standing by the drinks table.

“Hey…” You said, still feeling awkward despite Jeno’s easy acceptance of you.

“Y/N! Hey!” Donghyuck greeted you cheerily.

“You made it!” Jaemin gave you a one-armed hug.

“Sounds like you were expecting me then?”

“Well, yeah.” Donghyuck said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world (which was bewildering to you, considering you didn’t even know you were coming until this afternoon).

The two dryads exchanged a look.

“I mean, Sungchan was coming, so…” Jaemin shrugged.

Donghyuck peered around the party. “Speaking of, where’d your wolfboy go?”

“He went to get some food. And he’s not. my. wolfboy, you little shit.” You glared at him. “And don’t call him a wolfboy either, you know he doesn’t like to be called stuff like that. Call Jeno ‘puppy’ or whatever all you want but leave Sungchan out of it.”

“I thought he didn’t like dog terms, but wolf terms he was fine with, since he is a werewolf.” Jaemin said.

“Yeah.” Donghyuck nodded.

You put your hands on your hips with a frank sigh, “As if wolfboy isn’t also diminutive and meant to—”

“Woah, abort, abort, Y/N’s going into Renjun-mode.”

Jaemin looked over at the other dryad regretfully. “Worse than Renjun-mode, this isn’t just educational.”

“You two are so obnoxious, I’m going to stage a coup in Bot Club one of these days,” you declared with a scoff.

“Hey...” Another voice entered the conversation from over your shoulder, and you looked up to see Sungchan stepping in between you and Donghyuck, a plate loaded up with food in his hand.

“Speak of the wolf and he shall appear.” Donghyuck had a wicked grin on his face. You were amazed sometimes that he wasn’t a fairy.

“What were you guys talking about? Y/N didn’t look happy.”

“It was nothing, Sungchan, don’t worry about it.” You tried to reassure him, sending pointed stares at each of the dryads with you.

Donghyuck was apparently not going to let up, though. “Hey, Sungchan, you down to do a little thought experiment with me?”

“Thought experiment?” The werewolf echoed.

“Yeah, just real quick. I ask you a hypothetical question, you give me a hypothetical answer. Just for fun.”

“A thought experiment with Donghyuck. Sounds thrilling, sure.” Sungchan agreed humorously, popping a piece of food in his mouth.

“So, if someone were to call you dog-like terms—which we know you’re not cool with and would never do—who would you most be okay with doing that?”

The werewolf narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why would anybody do that?”

“It’s a thought experiment, Sungchan, come on. Play in this space with me!” Donghyuck whined, shaking the other man’s shoulder.

“Let’s rephrase then,” Jaemin joined in, a mischievous glint in his eye. You looked around to make sure Chenle wasn’t secretly listening in or something, because this surely had to be the work of your fairy prince acquaintance. You spotted the fairy very engaged in his conversation with his dragon roommate Jisung and a few other people. It seemed like the two dryads really were just deciding to be the absolute worst all on their own.

“Narrower scope. Would you be okay with, for example, Y/N calling you stuff like that?”

“Why would she do that?” Sungchan asked, confused.

“Yeah, why would I do that?” You asked, angry. They were clearly trying to get at something specific, make him admit something.

Jaemin offered an example, “Well, you know, Jeno’s girlfriend calls him ‘pup’ as a term of endearment.”

“And why would I do that?!” You repeated, feeling your stomach drop to the floor at how exactly he stressed those words.

“We’re getting off-topic here, it’s all hypothetical, remember?” It was amazingly Donghyuck who sort of saved you. “We know Y/N would never do it. But like… if she did, for some reason unbeknownst to us, what would you do? Would you be okay with it?”

Sungchan’s brow was furrowed as he seemed to genuinely contemplate this while he ate another bite of food. You, meanwhile, were plotting how best to kill two dryads. You knew enough from Bot Club, maybe a super-strong version of the magical weed spray you used would work... Were dryads more plant or more person?

“Well…” The werewolf finally began his answer, seeming to choose each word carefully. “Since I know Y/N, I know that if she were, in this batshit, hypothetical scenario, to do that, that she wouldn’t mean it in a derogatory way. So I guess I’d be more okay with her doing it than other people. Definitely more than you two weirdos who are posing this thought experiment that isn’t fun at all.”

“Thank you, Sungchan.” Donghyuck grinned at him, then turned to Jaemin. “I thought that was very fun and enlightening. What about you, Jaemin?”

Jaemin nodded thoughtfully. “I had a great time. Y/N?”

“You guys are so fucking annoying.” You groaned, grabbing a piece of food from Sungchan’s plate. “Leave me out of your thought experiments next time, please.”

The spring semester ended not long after Jeno’s birthday party, and you very thankfully didn’t have to take any summer classes, freeing up a lot of spare time for you. Sungchan, on the other hand, had to take a couple courses in order to make sure he would graduate on time. While you jokingly whined and complained when he told you about it, you were secretly relieved to have extra reasons to avoid him. As terrible as that sounded.

This afternoon, while he was in class, you had gone down to the river with Shotaro and Yuta, who miraculously both had a day off work at the same time. You didn’t even realize Jasmine & Pearls had enough employees to let the both of them take the same day off.

You were sat in your pop-up chair on the small beachy area, pulling your phone from your bag to check it while the two sirens continued lazing about in the waist-deep water. There was a text from Sungchan from a few minutes ago, and as you opened it up to read it, you realized that he was just sending you a funny picture he’d found somewhere online.

[you: aren’t you supposed to be focusing on class right now?]

“Sungchan?” Shotaro called out to you knowingly.

“What?” You yelled back, holding a hand up to shadow your face from the sun. Looking around your chair, you grabbed your baseball cap that you’d won in Valentine’s Bingo, pulling that on now that you were out of the water.

“You’ve got this little smile on your face that you only get when Sungchan texts you.”

“No I do not.”

Yuta stood up from where he had been floating on his back, shaking the water out of his hair as he asked you with a smirk, “So you don’t have a text from Sungchan on your phone screen right now?”

Your phone buzzed then, a welcome excuse to not have to answer that.

[sungchan: allegedly]

[you: i don’t want you whining to me when you fail that class]

You clicked your phone off, showing them the blank screen. “Nope, nothing on my screen.”

“You’re such a liar,” Yuta sighed, saying it as if it were as simple of a fact as the sky being blue or the grass being green. He trudged through the water up the shore until he could join you, plopping down in his chair next to yours. They had both kept their legs this afternoon instead of bringing out their tails, and he kicked his apart as he got comfortable.

Shotaro jogged up from the water too, grabbing the cooler and rooting around in it for a second. After securing the other half of his sandwich from the lunch that you all had eaten earlier, he sat down next to Yuta, taking a big bite from it.

You took Yuta’s lead and settled back in your chair, closing your eyes and just enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon Sun.

“He talks about you all the time, by the way.” Shotaro cut into your peace and quiet. If you had something within arm’s reach other than your metal reusable water bottle, you would’ve thrown it at him.

“Shotaro...” You groaned, rolling your eyes. You didn’t even need to ask who he was talking about.

“Seriously! ‘Y/N and I did this today.’ ‘Don’t wait up for me, I’m going to the movies with Y/N.’ ‘Y/N told me this funny story today.’ ‘Did you know such and such about this or that? Y/N’s so smart.’” He admittedly did a pretty good Sungchan impression. You would’ve laughed at it in any other context, but instead you were just annoyed.

“Yeah, well, we’re friends. We hang out, and do things together. He’s going to be talking about me,” you snapped. “He talks about you a bunch too. Because you guys, you know, live together. He also talks about his professors, and Jeno, and—”

“But it’s not the same.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He insisted.

Shotaro clearly wasn’t going to let up, so you momentarily engaged this line of thinking, hoping you could squash it. “What’s so different, then?”

“He’ll find just any reason to bring you up, for one. We’re grocery shopping? ‘Oh, Y/N likes this flavor.’ ‘We should pick this up for when Y/N comes over.’ ‘Shotaro don’t get that, Y/N doesn’t like it.’” His impression turned more high-pitched and whining. “We’re watching TV? ‘This reminds me of when Y/N and I did this...’ ‘I bet Y/N would love this show, we should watch it the next time she comes over.’ ‘Y/N has a shirt just like that character.’ We’re hanging out with other people? ‘Hey Sungchan, what uh, what are you giggling at on your phone over there?’” He first kept his normal tone of voice, then switched into his over-the-top fake-Sungchan. “‘Oh, Y/N just texted me something funny. But it’s an inside joke, so you guys wouldn’t get it, sorry.’ ‘Man, I wish Y/N could’ve come, sucks she had to work.’”

“Are you done?” You asked tersely, unamused.

“I could go on ad nauseum—”

“One could argue you already have.”

Yuta snickered.

“—but let’s call it there.”

“Thank God.”

Shotaro wasn’t done with his spiel yet, though. “I have had multiple friends, when he’ll first bring you around somewhere, quietly ask me if you’re Sungchan’s girlfriend and they like, missed when you two started dating.”

“I get it, I get it.” You said firmly, bringing a hand up to rub your face.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Y/N, you’re an MCS major, I’m sure you’ve heard about what can happen to werewolves if there’s something discordant in their lives that isn’t alleviated?”

“You think he’s going to get pupsick because he’s allegedly got a crush on me?” You sputtered out in disbelief, your voice caught between a chuckle and a scoff at how absurd that sounded to you.

“It happened to Jeno.”

“Yeah, but he’s Jeno. With all due respect and no intention to kinkshame, he probably lets his girlfriend put a collar on him.”

Yuta shot up as he cackled, slapping his knee and coughing. He scrambled to grab his water bottle, taking a couple sips as he struggled to catch his breath.

Shotaro pushed on like you hadn’t said anything, “Now, I don’t want to have to put up with a pupsick Jung Sungchan, do you? That sounds awful. For me, obviously, since I live with him.”

“Shotaro, you are half-right about one thing.”

“And what’s that?” He asked smugly.

“I am kind of an MCS major. So I also know that Sungchan isn’t overly touchy with me, he hasn’t given me anything of his that smells like him, he doesn’t feed me, or do any other pre-mating behaviors that are ingrained in werewolves.” You ticked them each off on your fingers. “Look, I hate stereotyping you guys by your species. But if he’s apparently so down bad that he can’t help but talk about me every waking second of the day, wouldn’t at least one of these things that are literally instinctual to him have happened?”

Shotaro raised an eyebrow. “You do know that he’s half-werewolf, right?”

“What?” You blinked at him.

“Yeah, his mom’s a werewolf, and his dad’s a human.”

You’d had an MCS class on the Effects of Modern Integration, which had a unit specifically on the subject of cross-species offspring. Some species could have offspring together while others couldn’t, it depended both on genetic similarity and compatibility of their magic. With humans having no magic, that left only genetic similarity as a factor, making them a lot more compatible for producing such cross-species offspring. Werewolves and humans were one of the more common pairings to have such offspring, as they had one of the most extensive histories of living together.

Sungchan’s behavior on your first and only date immediately sprung to mind. His hesitance around humans dating werewolves just because they’re werewolves. “Are they...?”

“Happily married. They helped us move into our apartment last year.” Shotaro apparently knew exactly where your question was going. “But yeah, Sungchan’s half-human. As best I can tell, he’s kind of like a super-zen werewolf. Able to control everything a lot better than full werewolves because all of the wolf instincts and stuff aren’t as powerful.”

“He still shifts?” Despite the estimated number of half-werewolves being greater than the confirmed population of sphinxes, unicorns, and phoenixes combined, there was little actually known about them academically. It was all word of mouth, as no large-scale study had been able to be done on them. They were apparently reluctant to come forward and make themselves known to researchers. And their friends.

“Yeah, every full moon. Which I think is why he really just considers himself a werewolf.”

“I didn’t know,” you admitted, biting the inside of your cheek as you were still absorbing this information.

“Anyway, he can probably control whatever pre-mating instincts he does have a lot better than full werewolves!”

“And he’s probably doing that because he knows that you know what pre-mating behaviors look like and thinks you would get weirded out.” Yuta suggested, finally entering the conversation instead of just letting you two go back and forth over him. “Since you’re kind of an MCS major.”

“Exactly!”

You pursed your lips, an uneasiness creeping up on you about the whole situation. “I don’t know guys…”

“You said he doesn’t feed you?” Yuta questioned thoughtfully.

“No, he doesn’t. And you two are around us plenty, have either of you ever seen him try to?” You asked pointedly.

“No, but what Shotaro was saying about grocery shopping. He always buys your favorite foods, flavors he knows you likes, even makes Shotaro put stuff back that he knows you think are unappetizing.”

“I’ve never asked him to do anything like that.”

“And yet he does. Now, overly touchy is subjective. Does he—”

“No, we’re not doing this.” You cut him off, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Doing what?”

“Dissecting mine and Sungchan’s friendship and putting it up on a conspiracy board. I’m not playing. And if that’s all you guys are going to do, then I’m leaving.”

Shotaro jumped in, “Y/N, why can’t you even consider that—”

“Because he already asked to be friends and I said yes,” you said angrily, feeling your blood finally reach its boiling point. “I knew what I was getting myself into, and having you guys trying to convince me that it’s something that he already said it’s not, isn’t fucking helping.”

They were both quiet for a beat, and you clenched your jaw. You couldn’t keep sitting right now, you had to go somewhere, do something. If you stayed here, somebody’s feelings were going to get hurt. You stood up, stuffing all of your things haphazardly back into your bag. “Actually, fuck it, I’m leaving anyway.”

“Y/N, we didn’t mean to—”

“I know, you think you’re trying to help or whatever the fuck. But just drop it, okay?” You shoved your feet back in your shoes and slung your bag over your shoulder. “I need to go or I’m going to end up saying something nasty that I don’t really mean and regret it. I’ll see you guys later.”

And with that, you took off, leaving the chair you had borrowed from Yuta on the shore. You took your baseball cap back off to mess with your damp hair as you speedwalked down the city sidewalks. All the angry energy from wanting to just go off on your friends was still coursing through you, and despite Yuta having to pick you up and drive you the couple miles or so to the river, you figured that you might as well walk the whole way back home to blow off steam.

A little more than halfway home, your phone buzzed in your hand with a call, and you glanced at it intending to just send it to voicemail. But it was Sungchan. You stared down at it as you waited to cross a street, an unsure thumb hovering over your screen.

Glancing between your phone and the crosswalk signal, it changed to walk, and you rushed to cross. The call went to voicemail.

Just a few seconds later, your phone lit up with the missed call, a voicemail, then a text from him. You sighed, clicking on the voicemail first.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sungchan’s voice came through clearly. It sounded like he was outside, probably on campus and fresh out of class, if you had to guess by the time. “It’s Sungchan. Obviously. Uh, anyway, I just got out of class, wanted to see if you maybe wanted to come over? I know you’re supposed to be with Shotaro and Yuta, but Shotaro just texted me and said—well, it’s kind of a long story. Just let me know if you can come over, and I’ll tell you when you get here, okay? I’m headed back to my place right now. Okay, bye.”

Shotaro.

Still fucking meddling after you asked him to drop it. If you were less than halfway back from the river, you’d turn around and throttle him.

You checked the text from Sungchan.

[sungchan: hey! i’m out of class. are you busy?]

[you: i can be over in twenty. is that okay?]

You shifted uncomfortably as you stood in front of the front door to Shotaro and Sungchan’s apartment. Your hair wasn’t as damp thanks to your long walk in the hot Sun, and your skin was dry, but you still held yourself as you stared down the center of the white door. You hadn’t knocked yet. You didn’t want to know what Shotaro had told Sungchan, having already convinced yourself that it was everything. That you were about to walk into Friendzoning 2: Electric Boogaloo, this time with Letting Y/N Down Easy. It made your stomach churn, your chest squeeze like a vice around your heart, and your head feel like it had been cast in lead.

You shifted your weight between your feet on the welcome mat, trying to muster up the strength to just knock on the fucking door, when it swung open.

Sungchan was in a pair of dark sweatpants and a dark red t-shirt from your school’s astronomy club—dated for fall two years ago. He offered you a familiar smile, stepping back from the doorway to make room for you. “Hey, I thought I heard you. Come in.”

“Hey. And thanks.” You nodded, slipping by him into his apartment.

Wordlessly, he started leading the way further back towards his room. You longingly looked at the wide-open space of the living room as you disappeared down the hallway. In his bedroom, you saw his desk taken up by his laptop and a spread of notebooks and papers. His bookbag was in his desk chair.

“Sorry, I know that’s your usual spot, but I was doing some homework.” Sungchan had noticed where your gaze was focused. He patted the foot of his bed as he went to sit down against the headboard. “Come on, you can sit with me for once.”

You swallowed and nodded, stepping back out of your shoes and setting your bag down. Climbing onto the end of his bed, you sat with your legs criss-crossed, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap.

“So why did Shotaro text you?” You decided to just go straight into it. No small talk or pleasantries about his class or what homework he was working on. “What’d he say?”

“He told me that he told you that I’m half-werewolf,” Sungchan said bluntly. “I figured I owed you a bit more of an explanation.”

Oh. Well that wasn’t what you were expecting at all.

“You really don’t owe me anything, Sungchan,” you shook your head, your eyes trained on his comforter. “You don’t have to explain who you are to me if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.”

It was a touching sentiment, but it felt like a hot knife right in your gut. He wanted to because he cared about you as a friend. Not in the same way that you cared about him.

You could only manage a soft, “Okay…”

“It’s not some big secret, really. I’m not ashamed of my dad or anything. I love him, he’s a cool guy.” Sungchan started, and you felt like that first part was more to reassure you that it was okay for you to know. He was pointing to a picture that you’d seen a countless number of times before, hanging next to the mirror above his dresser. It was of him at his high school graduation, flanked on either side by his parents, proud, beaming smiles on all of their faces. You’d always assumed they were both werewolves when you’d looked at that picture, and only ever noticed that Sungchan got his smile from his mom, and his nose from his dad. The height difference between his mom and dad never really registered to you, as Sungchan towered over both of them, but now you did see that his mom was almost a head taller than his dad. Not a trait intrinsic to either species, just more of a trend.

But then, his tone turned a little more pensive, “I just... don’t tell people at first because I get a whole slew of questions, from the mundane stuff like ‘How was it growing up with one werewolf parent and one human parent?’ Which like... I don’t know, it was like growing up with two parents? To the people who think that I’m some oddity and therefore they can just ask me completely unprompted about what my dick looks like. And then at the end of it, it doesn’t really matter anyway. I’m just some dumb mutt to them, no matter how you look at it.”

“Sungchan—” His name came out of your mouth instinctually, pained, as you could only imagine what he had experienced to ever be able to call himself that, even cynically as he was doing now.

“It’s okay. I don’t really care about those kinds of people.” He reassured you, offering a small smile. “That’s why I don’t waste my time on them anymore. I just say I’m a werewolf, and eventually they’ll find out more if they need to.”

“I’m sorry, that Shotaro just—”

“Y/N, it’s fine, seriously. I’m okay with you knowing. I know you’re not going to be weird about it. And Shotaro knew that too; I’m sure however it came up in conversation, it made sense for him to tell you.”

You thought about the context of when Shotaro revealed Sungchan’s lineage, wincing minutely. “Okay. Thanks.”

“You can ask me questions, I don’t mind since it’s you.” He then added teasingly, “Come on, Miss Magical Creatures Studies, I know you want to…”

“Not because I think you’re some oddity to be studied, but because I care and I want to understand more about you…” You prefaced your question. “Shotaro said that you still shift every full moon. Are your shifts any different than full werewolves?”

“From what I can tell watching other wolves shift, it’s not as painful, for one. So, bonus!” He said the last word with mock excitement. “The shift itself doesn’t last as long. And some wolves, especially younger ones who are going through their first shifts, tend to get kind of moodier in the days leading up to the full moon. I never got that. Just, everything is kind of… less for me.”

“Everything?” You asked, brows furrowed with confusion.

“My senses are more heightened than a human’s but less than the average werewolf, when I’m not shifted.”

“Ah.”

“And I probably wouldn’t fare great in a werewolf arm wrestling championship,” he tacked on lightheartedly.

“Damn, I had you signed up in one for this weekend,” you joked, clicking your tongue in the back of your throat in fake disappointment. “Put money down and everything.”

He played along, “Well, I guess I can still try for you.”

You smiled to yourself, then looked up at him as you took a deep breath. Whether or not you two were here because you cared about each other in different ways, you at least still cared about each other. And you’d be an idiot to throw out that kind of connection. You’d have to suck it up, hunker down, and connect with him on his terms.

“Thanks for being so open about this with me, Sungchan. I know it wasn’t your choice to tell me, and I know you already said it wasn’t a secret either. But still, I feel... very grateful that you would want to share any part of yourself like this with me.” You tried to pick your words carefully, to convey as much genuine emotion as you could without veering too far into romantic territory. You could still easily picture yourself saying something like this to Jaemin, or Shotaro. Maybe not Donghyuck, though.

“Ah, what’s that?” Sungchan squeezed his eyes shut, a bashful smile coming to his face.

“What’s what?” You asked with a breathy chuckle, feigning offense. “Am I not allowed a moment of sincerity?”

“No, you’re not.” He said it in an overly joking tone, so you knew that he wasn’t actually upset with you.

“And why not?” You mimicked his tone.

He sighed, teasing falling from his voice as he fully leaned back against his headboard, seeming to take you in for a few seconds before answering. “Not if you’re going to be looking at me like that when you’re being all sincere.”

“Like what?”

“Never mind.”

“No, no sir. You do not get to start an avenue of conversation like that and not finish it,” you pointed at him accusingly. “What am I looking at you like?”

The werewolf held your gaze steadily as he said, “Like you want something more.”

You felt your stomach drop as you rushed to get up from his bed, putting even more distance between the two of you. “I’m sorry, Sungchan. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

He knew, he knew, he knew.

“Y/N, don’t get me wrong, please.” Sungchan stood up after you, grasping your hand before you could run out on instinct. His grip was loose so that you could leave if you wanted, but the presence was enough to let you know that he still wanted you there, to listen to him. His hand was warm as it held yours, but it burned like you’d grabbed red-hot metal. “I-I think you’re one of the most incredible, smart, fantastic people I’ve ever met. And I’m so grateful that you gave me a second chance.”

“But you don’t like me like that. Yeah, I can see where this is going.” You shook him off, searching the floor for your bag and shoes. This was going to be embarrassing, putting sneakers back on after getting rejected like that.

“No, I do.”

Sungchan’s words stopped you in your tracks, and you slowly turned back around to face him again. Your heart was a drum banging in your ears, you couldn’t trust that they weren’t all—your heart and your ears—playing tricks on you.

“You… what?” You were dumbfounded, staring up at him with a mixture of disbelief and thinly-veiled suspicion. You’d spent far too long convincing yourself that he just liked you as a friend to throw it all out over three words.

“I was going to ask you on another date, that night at the boba shop, I really was,” he explained. “But I realized just how lovely and wonderful you were. And I thought that you didn’t deserve... all the hatred that would come with it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I love my parents, but growing up I got to see firsthand just the worst sorts of people… The things that my parents would be called, that I would get called, by other humans and other werewolves. It’s gotten a lot better, but I mean, Jeno’s girlfriend got called a knotslut at the park out of nowhere. And you don’t deserve to have that be your life.”

You narrowed your eyes up at him. “You think you’re not worth it?”

It was his turn to be thrown off-guard. “What?”

“You think that you, and being with you, aren’t worth it?” You reiterated.

“I wasn’t really thinking of it like that,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head.

“Do you think that? That you’re not worth it?”

“Well now that you say it like that, no, I don’t think that.” He frowned thoughtfully, his brow set with determination.

“And, I know you didn’t mean it like this, Sungchan, but you took the choice away from me. For a very sweet reason, I acknowledge that. But you didn’t give me a say in the matter. Imagine how that makes me feel.” You sighed, watching guilt flicker across his face. “I’m not going to pretend like I know at all what it was like for you growing up. Or what it’s like now. But I can tell you that I want this, that I want you. I want to be there for you, just like I know you’d be there for me if something ever did happen.”

“Of course I would be,” he declared.

Taking a step closer to him, you tentatively let a familiar airiness return to your chest, chasing out the painful squeeze that had been suffocating you since February. “See? We’ll have each other, Sungchan. Someone calling me something won’t matter as long as you’ll be there with me afterwards. You don’t have to prevent everything bad ever from happening, just hold my hand afterwards until it’s all better, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded resolutely. “I can do that.”

“And I’ll do the same for you. Deal?” You held your pinky finger out to him.

He hooked his with yours. “Deal.”

Sungchan lowered your connected hands, and you watched curiously as he unlinked his pinky, only to turn your hand over with both of his and trace gentle circles into the palm of your hand with his pointer finger.

“Y/N?” He murmured.

You snapped your focus back up to his face at the sound of his voice, trepid and unsure. He was still gazing down at your hands as you replied, “Yes?”

“I know we really can’t start over completely now, but…”

“If you say ‘friends’ right now, even as a joke, I’m going to kill you with my bare hands, half-werewolf strength be damned.” You whispered through gritted teeth.

He sputtered out a chuckle, shaking his head fondly and the circles on your palm never slowing. “No, no, I wouldn’t do that to you. That would be a terrible joke.”

“Good.”

“I was going to ask...” He inhaled shakily, finally drawing his eyes up to yours. “If we could try that date again?”

A smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, and you nodded quickly. “Yeah, Sungchan. I’d love that.”

Sungchan beamed at you, a heart-stopping, adorable, lopsided grin that now made your chest flutter with hope. “Okay! Thank you, thank you!”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm. “You’re welcome.”

Leaping to your feet at the knock that just came from your front door, you ran to answer it. You threw the door open, abuzz with excitement.

It was just about a week later, and you and Sungchan were finally trying that date again. You’d actually seen him once in the intermittent days, at a previously scheduled group movie night at Jeno and Jaemin’s place. The two of you were all knowing smiles and questionably accidental bumps and brushes of skin under the blanket that you shared that night.

But tonight Sungchan was in your hallway, smiling nervously down at you. “Hi.”

“Hi, Sungchan.” You fidgeted with your shirt. He had specifically told you to dress casually and comfortable, but you still felt weirdly underdressed, even seeing that he was in a t-shirt and jeans himself.

“These are for you,” he said quietly, bringing out a bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

As you accepted them from him, you immediately realized that they were made of paper, intricately folded tulips, lilies, and roses of all colors. You couldn’t help but let out a small gasp, thinking about how much time it must have taken him. “An origami bouquet. Oh, Sungchan…”

“I figured you had plenty of hearts by now…” He said as he flushed from his neck upwards.

“They’re beautiful.” You got on your tiptoes, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

His cheeks were bright pink as you turned around to set them down inside, then looked back to him expectantly. The werewolf led the way out to the parking lot, except you didn’t see his car anywhere around. There was a familiar old blue pickup truck, however, which he was walking towards.

“Your car in the shop or something?” You asked curiously. “Why are you driving Yuta’s truck?”

“Utility.” He answered cryptically, opening the passenger door for you.

“What does that mean?” You questioned with a chuckle, scooting into the middle of the bench seat.

You’d gotten your seatbelt situated by the time Sungchan had walked around and opened the driver’s side. He didn’t seem to have been expecting you to be in the middle, pausing for a second, and looking around flustered as he climbed into the truck too.

“It’s a surprise, like I said,” he muttered, fastening his own seatbelt and starting the truck.

Sungchan drove with one hand on the wheel, the other on his leg next to yours. You drummed your fingers on your own knee contemplatively.

“Sungchan?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I hold your hand?”

“Wh— Yeah, of course.” He laughed shakily as you laced your fingers with his. “You don’t need to ask me about stuff like that.”

“Well you’re so tense right now that I was afraid that if I just grabbed your hand, you might freak and crash the car.”

He cringed. “So you can tell?”

“Yeah, I can tell.” You patted his arm with your other hand. “What’s got you so wound up? It’s just me.”

“Well, yeah, it’s you,” he repeated. “I’ve already messed up so many times with you. I don’t want to fuck up again.”

You contemplated this for a second, watching the passing streetlights. “Think about it like this: Could you possibly fuck up again worse than our first date?”

“I hope not.”

“Then you’re already off to a great start.”

“Y/N, I think you need higher standards,” he said without an ounce of humor or joking in his tone.

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at that. “Sungchan, you made me an entire origami bouquet and organized a whole night out to surprise me. I think my standards are pretty okay.”

“Alright, but you’ve got to promise that this is my last chance. Like, three strikes and I’m out. Seriously, if I was some other guy, I would’ve told you to throw me to the curb a long time ago.”

You looked over at him incredulously. “Are you seriously advocating against yourself right now? Is this some kind of reverse psychology flirting technique that I’ve never heard of?”

“No, I’m just not going to stop being a good friend because you’re on a date with me. I told you I would always look out for you, and I meant it, even if it’s not in my best interest.”

Nodding with a raised eyebrow, you decided to take his advice at face value. “Okay, your input is noted as part of the council of friends’ round table on my new guy.”

You saw a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. “Good.”

“So, did you tell Shotaro what we were doing?” You asked, curious now that the topic of friends had been brought up.

“I told him we were hanging out.”

“Did you tell him it was a date?”

“No. Did you?”

“If I did, do you think you would have gotten out of your apartment unscathed?” You snorted.

“Fair point.”

The car ride passed with mostly idle chitchat, until he made a turn away from the city center, off onto a back road that you were unfamiliar with. The buildings gave way to trees, the streetlights being replaced only with moonlight and the headlights of the truck or any lone car that you would pass occasionally. A while later, the asphalt became a dirt road, the trees around you getting thicker and thicker. You looked around in interest as he slowed the truck to a stop in a clearing.

“We’re here?” You asked, looking over at him. Your eyes had long adjusted to the nighttime, and you could clearly make out his features.

“We’re here,” he confirmed with a nod, turning the vehicle off.

Sungchan climbed out, helping you down with a hand, and you immediately knew why he’d had both of you dress casually. You were in the middle of the woods, being led to the back of the truck by the hand by your date. He opened the tailgate, and let go of your hand to hop up into the empty bed.

“Wait there,” he requested, now well and good towering over you.

You nodded.

He retrieved a large duffel bag from the truck bed, and you looked curiously at everything he brought out of it. Pillow after pillow, blanket after blanket. The truck bed soon looked like a bed bed, and Sungchan came back over to plop down on the tailgate, toeing his shoes off and setting them aside at the end. He gestured to the bedding with little fanfare.

“All done!”

You hopped up next to him, pulling your shoes off as well and putting them away next to his. Looking at him with a knowing smirk, you nodded to the fact that the two of you were still sitting up. “Now what, Sung?”

“Ah, you’re going to make me spell it out?” He rubbed the back of his neck, ducking his head awkwardly.

“No,” you laughed. “I’m not.”

He took that as his cue to lay down first, leaving an open space right beside him. You settled into his side with no hesitation, resting your head on his chest as he pulled a final fluffy blanket over the two of you. Being a half-werewolf, Sungchan was pretty warm, but you were grateful for the extra comfort anyway.

Up above you two was a gorgeous expanse of a night sky. A waxing gibbous glowed down at you, stars twinkling and winking in and out at irregular intervals.

“It’s so peaceful…” He murmured quietly, shifting under you, still settling in.

“I don’t know, it’s kind of scary out here…”

Sungchan moved to sit up slightly, looking down at you with concern. “Really? You think so?”

“Yeah, what if there’s wolves?”

“Oh my god you’re so annoying,” he groaned, even as he readjusted his arms to hold you closer.

You, meanwhile, were giggling maniacally at your incredible joke, hiding your face in his shirt as you tried to recover. “You mean I’m the funniest person you know.”

“In your dreams.”

Looking back up at the sky, you pointed to a random speck of light. “Do you know what star that is?”

“Which one?” Sungchan asked, craning his head to try to get in your line of sight.

“I don’t know, any of them.” You dropped your hand back down to his front. “You’re in astronomy club, tell me about them, you big Earth Science nerd. Which I say with great affection and fondness.”

“Okay, so you see the Moon?”

“That’s not a star. I do know that.”

He chuckled, which you felt underneath your cheek. “I figured as much. So, starting at the Moon, if you go due North—” he pointed, and you tried your best to follow the path of his index finger. “The first and brightest star you can see. See it?”

“Yep!” You nodded, seeing the exact star he was talking about.

“Then go the right, just a little, there’s a pair of twin stars, see them?”

“Mm… mhm! Yes!”

“Okay, down, and over to the right some more, we’re tracing out the top of a head, then we’re going back up, there’s another pair of twin stars, you see?”

You squinted, losing the top of the head he was talking about, but finally found the second set of twin stars he’d mentioned. “Yeah, found them!”

“Cool. Straight down from that pair, we’re going to find one, two, then over to the left to get the chin, over and up to get the other cheek, and up to round out the head.”

You nodded, vaguely able to picture what he was talking about. “Okay… so whose head was that?”

“Oh, I get to teach Miss MCS Major something!” Sungchan teased.

“Interdisciplinary major…” You reminded him under your breath.

“So that was Lykos, the great wolf in the sky. As in, lycanthropy.”

“Back when scientists thought werewolves were humans with an affliction that could be passed on to other humans. The quote ‘condition’ they were diagnosed with was lycanthropy.” You easily pulled a basic definition of it from class. “Of course we know now that’s not true. Like witches, werewolves are an entirely different species, not just a variety of human. And there’s never been any credible account of a werewolf turning a human into a werewolf.”

“Why is it that humans just think everything is also a human, even when it very clearly is not?”

“Well, if I were to give us humans benefit of the doubt? Uh, to relate to it? Empathy? Recognition of yourself in the other? I mean, it’s better than labeling everything a monster and hunting it down. Which, we also did a bit of.”

“Us monsters did plenty hunting of you guys, too.”

“You say as if you’re not also half-human.”

“Hey,” he frowned down at you suspiciously. “Are you recognizing yourself in the other with me right now? I think we should really save that for the second date—”

“Oh, shut up!” You gave his front a smack as you let out an indignant scoff.

Sungchan was kicking his legs under the blanket as he laughed from his stomach, and when you looked up at him, you saw his eyes squeezed shut tight as he cackled. You watched him with a smitten smile, unable to even pretend to be annoyed for any longer as his guffaws petered out to chuckles then to giggles until he eventually sobered up, and settled his gaze with a heart-stopping grin on you.

The two of you were quiet for a moment, just looking at each other, then he broke the eye contact, turning his eyes back up to the stars. “Uhm— I didn’t finish telling you about Lykos.”

You settled back into your spot, and with your ear to his chest, you could hear that his heartbeat was faster than it’d been before. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing about yours in that moment.

“So, Lykos,” Sungchan picked up where he’d left off before. “You can easily find him by starting at the moon to find his left ear. According to werewolf stories, Lykos was the very first werewolf that we’re all descended from. Because he was so great and powerful, once he passed, his soul ascended to be in the stars to watch over all of his descendants.”

“Wow…” You looked at the stars harder, willing Lykos’ shape to be a little more visible to you than before.

“In astronomy, though, the two twin stars that make up his left ear are called LK 1C04 and LK 2C04. They’re both red giants.”

“Are they going to explode any time soon?”

“Stars are kind of always exploding,” he explained enthusiastically. “They’re perpetually combusting and performing nuclear fusion. Well, most stars, if they haven’t run out of fuel yet.”

“What about when they run out of fuel then?”

“Depends on how big they are. LK 1C04 and 2C04 are both red giants, so when they run out of fuel, they’ll turn into white dwarves. So instead of being a burning ball of gas, they’ll just be emitting a very faint light from the remaining energy leftover from their previous nuclear fusion reactions that they can no longer perform.”

“So they don’t get to go out with a bang.”

“No, not really.” Sungchan pointed up at the sky again. “Okay, you remember Lykos’ chin?”

“Yes…”

“So that’s actually the end of the tail of a squirrel, according to some dryad traditions, or a gecko in some human ones.”

Sungchan sketched out the next constellation for you, then relayed the accompanying folk tale. Some scientific factoids would be interspersed too, and you loved hearing the enthusiasm in his voice as he told you about something he was very clearly interested in. And at some point, with his legs tangled up in yours, your hand curled around his waist, your cheek pressed against his chest, his hand casually rubbing up and down your back underneath your top as he still spoke so eagerly, you found your attention slipping away from black holes and how legends of ancient wyvern society said this or that about some other constellation. You were suddenly grabbing him by the collar with two hands and yanking him over to look at you.

“Y/N?” He asked, absolute bewilderment in his features.

“Jung Sungchan, I’m going to say this once, and please don’t take this the wrong way,” you murmured, holding eye contact with him very seriously. “You’re very attractive when you talk about things that you’re passionate about, and if you don’t kiss me right now I think I’m going to explode.”

Sungchan didn’t need to be told twice, reaching up to cup your cheek. Despite your rather blunt and unromantic request, he still tenderly guided your lips to his. Your eyes fluttered shut as you melted into the kiss, the grip you had on his collar relaxing. His mouth was soft as he moved it ever so slightly against yours. His thumb stroked over your cheekbone, the hand on your back pulling you even closer to him. One of your hands grabbed his waist to anchor yourself down to something on Earth.

It ended all too soon for your liking, though. You were pretty sure you could kiss Jung Sungchan forever. He pressed one more quick kiss to the corner of your mouth before leaning back to drink you in.

“You’re so beautiful…” he murmured, stroking your cheek again.

“Sung?” You whispered.

“Hm?”

“Do you want to kiss me again?”

He nodded, and you leaned forward to bump your nose against his. A giddy smile spread across your face.

“Good. Me too.”

sequel :･ﾟ✧｡･:･*

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

#sungchan #jung sungchan #riize #sungchan x reader #riize x reader #riize imagines #sungchan imagines #jung sungchan imagines #nct #nct x reader #nct imagines #sungchan imagine #riize imagine #i: sungchan #f: changer #au: strawberry sunday #text #writing #mine #*100 #*200

[wonwoosthetic]

Hello, can you do something for Javier Pena? Like with a fellow DEA agent and partner, and he's soft for them (not that soft cause that'll not be him anymore, but he helps them more and follows them on missions a lot). and like he and murphy talks about how much his "ways" had changed after meeting and getting together with her, and yesh like fluff fluff and fluff makeout cause I loved that in that one joel fic

Rugged and Soft

warnings – mentions of drugs and police stuff, but this is so freaking fluffy, mentions of sexy times towards the end but nothing explicit

word count – 11.3k (istg this always happens)

a/n: aaaaaaaaahhhh thank you soooo much for requesting this!!! I LOVED writing this so much😫😫 istg I’m in love with him and I hope I did the character justice ˙ᵕ˙ you’re absolutely right, too soft wouldn’t be him anymore but I still think he'd just adore his partner so much, so they'd get to see a different side of him, so I hope you liked what I came up with🫶🏼

requests – open ˙ᵕ˙

Javier and Steve were enjoying their last drops of alcohol and final cigarettes for the night on the balcony while you were helping Connie in the kitchen. While the two men were engulfed in a serious conversation about the possible next steps in their plan, Javi's eyes were daring to get fixed on your silhouette any second.

The sudden crying coming from the baby girl the Murphys had recently taken in caught your attention.

"Ah, crap," Connie looked down at her hands covered in water and dish soap, "Could you-" She knew, she didn't even have to ask you twice, you loved that little girl. 

Without hesitating, you nodded, whispering a quick, "Yeah yeah, sure," and rushed out of the room to enter the bedroom where the crib for the baby was. Javier's gaze followed you as you exited, only coming back seconds later with the crying girl in your arms. He watched you gently bouncing up and down, trying to calm her down, petting her head with your delicate fingers as you swiftly moved around the room. 

He could've sworn there was a sudden weird sensation happening in his heart- no, his stomach- no, his brain? God knows where. Something was happening in his body, and he couldn't help it. It almost made him panic not knowing what the fuck was going on with him, but it was quickly interrupted by a slap to his chest by his colleague.

"Eyy," Steve chuckled, "I know that look."

"What?" The Latino scrunched his eyebrows.

The blonde man nodded towards the living room on the other side of the window, where you were now sitting down, the little girl on your lap as you tried to make her laugh.

"You're getting soft, Javi."

Peña scoffed, taking a drag from his cigarette, "You don't even know what the fuck you're talking about, Gringo." But that only made Steve laugh more.

"I know damn well what the fuck I'm talking about." Taking a sip from his beer bottle gave the two men a second of thick silence. "You know, she changed you."

"Maybe," Javier, in his typical way, spoke quietly, using that deep and rusty tone you had fallen in love with - he may have tried to brush off his co-worker's comment, but both men knew there was much more to it.

Because what Steve had said was true. Everyone knew that. At least everyone in the apartment at that time. 

At work, Javier Peña may still be that cold-blooded asshole, who may not have as many 'informants' as a few years ago but still continued using his charm as often as he needed to. He had changed, just no one there knew why. 

But here, in the comfort of the Murphys' place, he was just Javi. A rough man with edges that got softened down, thanks to you. A man who once was a famous womanizer and bachelor in Bogota, now turned devoted boyfriend and partner who kissed the floor you walked on.

That smug grin never left Murphy's face that was starting to annoy Peña. "Don't say maybe. You know, I'm right."

Javier put out the tobacco stick in the little bowl provided, "And even if you are, she probably just changed the worst parts of me that needed changing in the first place."

He received a nod in response. "Wouldn't fight you on that." With one last gulp, Steve finished his beer. "She definitely changed you for the better. I'm just hoping you're not getting too soft now." Making Javier scoff.

As soon as his eyes met yours through the window, he immediately was brought back to all the small moments that had turned him into the man that he was now. Because yes, Steve was right. You definitely did change him for the better.

-

Javier heard you before he saw you. He always did. Those familiar steps of the same shoes you had been wearing to work for the past few years had branded themselves into his brain.

You were making your way to the shared office space of you, Murphy, and Peña when your eyes fell on Javi's back that was turned to the entrance. The full head of brown thick locks you'd recognize from a mile away. 

His attention was fully on the board you had hung up on the wall, pictures of Escobar and his men plastered all around and red string tying in together every single piece of information you had. 

"Good morning," you waltzed up behind him, not expecting him to turn around as he seemed to be somewhere else with his head. That explained your surprise when he mumbled a quiet,

"Mornin'," back to you.

You stopped right next to him, your eyes travelling around the board. "What are you looking at?" You wondered before you caught a mug on his desk from the corner of your eye. With a smile, you walked up to it, picking it into your grip to take a sip - at this point, the three of you had started to make this a casualty.

As soon as the, what you expected to be, hot delicious beverage hit your tongue, you were quick to spit it back into the mug, a groan of disgust echoing through the room.

"Oh my God, what the fuck!" The back of your hand came up to wipe your mouth clean.

Javi turned his head to glance at you and as soon as he saw you holding the mug, he moved forwards to snatch it out of your hands.

"Why the fuck are you drinking that?" He snapped at you, putting it back on the desk.

You still looked at him in shock, "Why are you drinking that?!" A quick look at the clock made you scoff, "Javi, it's 9am."

But he just shrugged, his arms crossing in front of his chest again as he went back to look at the board. "Long night." 

Long night or not, you had never been a fan of Javier's very unhealthy drinking habits. You remembered even seeing him with a whiskey glass on the day you started working for the DEA in Bogota.

With a shake of your head, you moved to his desk, throwing yourself onto his chair before your hands were opening each drawer and cupboard.

Your hasty movements caught Peña's interest. "What are you doing?"

He didn't get an answer from you at first as you waited until you found what you were looking for. You were tired of his drinking at work. Outside of it, he could do whatever he wanted - he was an adult for God's sake. But here, in the DEA's office, at work, you didn't need to have his drunk ass as a co-worker. 

"Blue, what are you looking for?" He got closer to you, the nickname he and Muphy had given you in your first week dropping from his lips easily.

With a relieved sigh, you stood up again, holding up the bottle of whiskey with a proud smile, "Say goodbye to this."

"Hey-" he tried to lean forward, hoping to get a hold of the bottle, but you were quicker than him, moving past him, already on your way out the door of the office.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" He called after you.

You turned around with a smile, "Pouring this down the drain. You're welcome!"

With a sigh, he lowered his head, shaking it and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

At the same moment, Steve passed you, entering the small room with a frown, "What's she doing?" Directing his question towards Peña as he pointed at your disappearing figure.

"Giving me a fucking headache," Javier commented. His eyes found the mug on his desk again, another groan tumbling from his lips. Now he had to rely on that one cup for the rest of the day.

-

A soft chuckle almost escaped his lips at the memory. 

"She threw my fucking alcohol away." Javier took a sip of his beer. "Only a few months after coming to the office."

Steve grinned, "Thank God. You'd be taking your morning shit with a shot of coffee and five of whiskey if she hadn't done that."

The following day, he remembered as clearly as he possibly could - how could he forget: the day that he felt the world shift. All because of one little word.

-

You basically skipped into the office, three cups of coffee from the shop around the corner of your apartment in your hands. Steve and he were already sitting at their designated desks, watching you and your million-dollar smile as you waltzed into the room.

"Good morning, my dear friends," you beamed at the men, settling everything onto your place, putting down your bag and taking off the jean jacket you had put on.

Steve smiled at you, slightly confused, "What's gotten you in such a good mood?" Not that it was a rarity to see you with a grin decorating your face, but it happened more than any of you would like to admit that any man in that building would ruin your mood early in the morning before you could even make your way into your shared office.

"They're finally open again!" You called out, placing a coffee cup each onto their desks. Javier smiled up at you radiating the positive energy around the room, something he had had to get used to once you started working with them.

"Who?" Murphy continued the conversation.

"The coffee shop! By my apartment. Remember? They were renovating the place, but they're finally done, and I'm getting my daily cup of coffee again."

"You mean liquid sugar?" Javi commented, earning himself a glare from you, almost making him smile. He got up from his seat, the coffee in his hands when he took a sip, interested in what the hell you may have put into his.

"Ugh," he immediately groaned at the taste.

"What?" Your big eyes locked onto his. He couldn't tell you what he really thought of it. He wasn't going to break your heart after you had just almost jumped around the room as you told them about the shop re-opening.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Dry."

The sound of your soft chuckle rang through his ear. Had it always sounded so angelic?

"You mean the way you're supposed to drink coffee, honey?" You patted his cheek before turning around to leave the room, on your way to get some files you had been looking for, not knowing you were leaving Javier frozen in place. That was a new nickname. He was used to 'Javi', 'jackass', 'senior' or 'idiot', but 'honey'? That was new.

With confusion written across his face, he huffed out a chunk of air he apparently had been holding, while Steve's eyes were trained on him, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"What the fuck just happened?" The Latino wondered out loud, not noticing that he was still standing up, still not moving, only entertaining Steve even more.

"What? You've never been called honey before?" He enjoyed teasing the man. It didn't matter in what context. Teasing Javier Peña was always fun, especially when you were involved.

Javi shrugged and shook his head, snapping back into reality. "Not by her."

And that made all the difference.

-

"I'm just saying." Murphy's voice made the other man realise they were still on the balcony and not in the past, even though he would've enjoyed dwelling in the memories a little more. "I see the way you look at her, and we don't need a soft boy in the DEA."

Javier scoffed, throwing his beer down his throat. "Says you, you blonde-haired, blue-eyed bitch."

"But I'm not getting soft."

"And neither am I!" He argued back, making Steve snicker. He knew Javier wasn't actually getting THAT soft, but it was fun riling him up.

The two men let a few moments of silence pass, listening to the mumbles of your and Connie's conversation inside the apartment and hearing the cars drive on the dimly lit streets.

"How long do you think you'll be able to hide it?" Oh, what a good question that was. Of course, Javi knew what his colleague was talking about because he had been wondering the exact same thing. Multiple evenings and nights were spent raking through his thoughts. Was what you were doing even a good idea? How long was this going to last? Was it worth it? 

He didn't even want to admit to some of the questions that had popped into his head as he felt like he shouldn't even be questioning this relationship. But since the two of you shared a workplace, it only seemed right. Right?... 

Two agents were in no way supposed to be romantically involved with each other. For one, it would most definitely be going against HR regulations, and two, you'd be putting yourself and your partner in so much more danger than you or they were already in from practising this job. But it was worth it. God, was it worth it.

Javier had been happier than ever before. Calmer than before - at least when you were around him. But as beautiful and wonderful as this little bubble was that the two of you had been sharing for a good year now, there were a lot of complications you hadn't had to face yet.

The Latino leaned back against the railing of the balcony, putting down the bottle of beer on the little table next to him before lighting up his next, and hopefully last, cigarette.

"Fuck... if I knew. Probably forever."

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Oh please, you know you won't be able to do that."

With the amount of scrunching of his eyebrows that Javi had been doing all his life, it wouldn't be surprising to see early wrinkles at his yet relatively young age. "The fuck you mean by that?"

"The amount of times you almost got caught? By literally just about anyone in the office beside me? Maybe I'm talking about that." As amusing as it was to Steve, he also understood the seriousness behind the topic. He just wanted the two of you to be safe, and alert of the people around you, because it started happening more and more that either one of you would forget how suspiciously protective you could get of each other - more specifically how protective Javier could get.

"We haven't gotten caught in the past and won't get caught in the future." He simply answered, tapping the ash off the cigarette.

The blonde man crossed his arms in front of his chest, "Maybe. But maybe they'll start looking more into some of your antics," but quickly raised them in defence as soon as he caught the glare on Javi's face. "Just trying to keep you two safe."

"Oh yeah? What antics?"

Steve shrugged parodically, "Oh, I don't know, what about two weeks ago?"

-

The three of you were sitting in Noonan's office, right across from her, all in slightly more formal clothing than you'd usually wear.

You had announced to your partners that you had a lead on one of Escobar's men and wanted to discuss your possible ideas with the female ambassador. Let's just say the talk had turned into a slightly more heated discussion than you had planned. 

"M'am, I understand your concern-"

"Well, I really don't think you do, Miss. Have I not made myself clear before?"

You nodded, continuing the conversation standing up, copying her, while the two men were sitting on each side of you, quietly listening to the two of you. "You have, Ambassador, but this is a real possible lead I have here."

"How do you know that? How do you know you can trust the information you receive?" No one was supposed to know about what you were doing to get your info. You weren't about to rat the other people out. Not to the ambassador, not to anyone.

"I have trustful sources-" A scoff coming from the older woman made you stop. "I-I just need your okay to continue-"

"And you won't get it."

"M'am-"

"Do you want a repetition of what happened in Mexico?!" The sudden raise of the woman made you shut your mouth. But not only that. Her words lingered around the room. A heavy statement. She knew she hit a weak point with that.

You lowered your head and crossed your arms as a defence mechanism while the men exchanged questioning looks.

'What happened?' Javier mouthed to Steve, but only got a headshake in return, so he directed the question to the ambassador.

"Ehm," he cleared his throat. "What... happened in Mexico? If you don't mind me asking, M'am."

The older woman leaned forward, her palms on the table and let her tongue swipe across her teeth.

She scoffed, "They don't know?" Clearly asking you.

After taking a deep breath, you shook your head, "They don't have to know."

The woman raised her voice slightly again, "They're not your co-workers, agent, they're your partners. They should, in fact, know about your lousy decisions in the past!"

"They weren't lousy!" Arguing with her felt like fighting with a parent, but currently, you were only getting scolded and barely listened to. Before she could interrupt you, you continued, now copying her tone, "My decisions were very well thought through! The problem was these stupid CIA agents that didn't know what they were doing, and it wasn't my fault that the Guadalajara were thousand steps ahead of us!"

"And what's gonna be different this time? How do you not know that Escobar isn't already ahead of you right now?"

"Because I have my informants-"

"You're starting to sound like Peña, careful," she warned you with a huff.

You took her change in attitude to take a deep breath, "You can't compare this to Mexico. What happened was completely differ-"

"Can somebody explain what the fuck happened back in Mexico?!" Steve interrupted your argument, losing his last amount of patience for which Javier was very thankful because he was just as curious and just as impatient.

Your eyes fell on the ambassador, but her hand was motioning towards you, not even batting an eye, not even interlocking glances with you. When you didn't respond, she looked at you, seeing your pleading expression, but she shook her head.

"It's not my story to tell."

You gulped. She was right. It was your story. But for another time. "I'll explain it later, this is more important right now."

"No, it's not because I'm not putting you anywhere close to one of Escobar's men."

A heavy chunk of breath fell from your lips as you looked around the room in frustration, ignoring Javier's glare and Steve's awaiting eyes.

"Then send Carrillo with me. You trust him. He can come with me," you proposed, about what the older woman seemed to think about for a second, but that was quickly interrupted by Javi's voice.

"I can go with her."

All three heads shot towards him.

"What?" You mumbled, the ambassador copying your confusion.

"What? No! Peña, don't get me wrong, but I would trust Carrillo more than you with her." As soon as those words left her mouth, you closed your eyes. She shouldn't have said that.

"Excuse me?!" Javier shot up from his seat in rage. The other man quickly followed him, ready to hold him back if anything was about to happen. "She's my partner! Not fucking Carrillo's!" You didn't ignore the possible two meanings behind the word 'partner'. There had always been a slight jealous side to your boyfriend, and unfortunately, you had found out that sometimes he had a slightly harder time containing it.

"Javi-" you tried, but he ignored you.

"I've been working with her for years, and you'd rather send someone from the Search Bloc with her?!"

The woman pointed a strict finger at him, "I suggest you watch your tone, agent." She warned him. "Carrillo has gone on undercover missions before. Successfully. So yes, I would much rather send him than you. Especially now after you just put on a show like that. What's gotten into you?" No one answered that question.

Javi huffed out in annoyance before turning to you, "You trust him more than me?"

That took you back. "W-...What does that have to do with anything?"

"Why did you suggest Carrillo instead of me?!" Now it was his time to raise his voice, earning him an eyebrow raise from the ambassador.

"Javi! It doesn't matter-"

"It fucking matters to me!"

"Guys-" Steve, who was standing behind you, tried to calm you down by placing his hands on your upper arms, but you brushed him off, continuing the fight with your partner.

"He has done things like this before, he'd be able to protect me if needed-"

"I'd be able to protect you if needed! Are you seriously questioning this now?!"

You opened your mouth again, but the loud voice of the older woman immediately shut you down and made you turn towards her.

"Both of you, stop it! Right now!" She took a deep breath. "What on earth is going on with you two?" Everyone stood quietly in front of her. She pointed at you, "Listen. I don't know what is going on in that brain of yours, nor do I understand your ways of picking these men apart psychologically. I understand and respect your devotion, but I won't be risking your life a second time." You opened your mouth, but she quickly motioned for you to be quiet. How fucking old did she think you were? But then again, you could only imagine that you looked like teenagers to her in this scene. "Now." She wiggled her finger between you and Javier. "You two. Clear up whatever the heck is going on between you two. I need you both with a clear head, not with... God, I don't even know. And you." Her eyes went to Steve, "Keep an eye on them. Seems like they're going through puberty again..." The ambassador mumbled the last part, only adding to her already disappointing, yet strict tone.

But you were not about to go down that quickly. "M'am-" you tried, but she had the upper hand once again.

"Out. I have a meeting in five." 

You were gently pushed back by Steve while Javi walked beside you quietly.

The last call out from Noonan stopped you. "And if I find out that you met up with Escobar's man behind my back, I will not hesitate to send you back to the US, just so we're clear." Loud and clear. You didn't respond, but just kept on walking, a clear tension following the three of you out of the room. There was a lot to discuss.

-

Javi shook his head at the memory, putting out his cigarette, "Don't fucking remind me of that." He hated the way he reacted. He hated the fact that it happened in front of Noonan. But most importantly, he hated that you had kept something so significant from him.

After you had gotten back into the office, the interrogation began. You had to spill everything that had happened back in Mexico - back before you joined the DEA in Colombia. And let's just say neither Javi nor Steve was happy after listening to your story of being held hostage by the Guadalajara only days before they killed Kiki as their first target was planned to be you.

He wanted to forget everything you had told them, but he couldn't. As if your job wasn't already dangerous enough as it is, you were actually willing to go the extra mile, risking letting the same thing happen for a second time?! Just thinking about it made his blood boil.

"But I have to remind you of that," Steve stated with a sigh. "Because Noonan asked me about the 'tension' between you two. And why you were so against Carrillo all of a sudden." 

"Fuck me..." Javi cursed under his breath, throwing his head back with a groan.

The blonde man scrunched his face in disgust, "Nah, thanks, I'll leave that to Blue." Getting a chuckle from the Latino, which made both of the men snicker together.

"It's not gonna be easy, you know?" Javier suddenly spoke, alerting Steve of his worries. He understood - of course, he did. But he had mentioned this to both of you from day one. He even remembered talking to Javi about that before you two were officially together.

He nodded in understanding, "I know. Just... try to keep it undercover. As best as possible. More like you did towards the beginning because you're starting to get more daring with the shit you're doing in the office. I wouldn't be surprised to find you fucking in one of the file rooms one day."

"Yeah yeah," the Latino brushed his friend off, his memory bringing him back to the older times. 'Like you did towards the beginning', but Javier had never been able to hold himself back completely.

-

Up the elevator, Javier walked into the hallway, on his way to the meeting you had planned with Colonel Wysession. The three of you were getting closer and closer to catching that bastard, you were sure, and now with some help, it just might be even quicker. Peña couldn't say he was looking forward to necessarily working closer with the Marine Corps, only ever trusting the division he was serving in, but he accepted what had to be done.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of familiar grunts. Too familiar grunts. Glancing to his right, he found the door to one of the file rooms slightly ajar. His hand reached out to push it further open, immediately coming to sight with a back he only know too well.

The corners of his lips curled up in amusement as he leaned against the frame, arms crossed, watching you trying to make yourself taller by standing on your tippy toes to reach for one of the boxes on the higher shelves. The entertaining scene didn't last for long though when you suddenly managed to somehow move it with your fingertips, making it tilt towards you. 

Javier reacted fast. His smile dropped, and with one big step forward, he was right behind you, his arms up as he caught the heavy box with his hands while yours flew up to cover your head with a gasp escaping your throat - for one, because of the weight almost landing on you, but for two because of the person coming into the room, catching you off guard.

"Jesus, careful, cariño." You recognised the rumble of a voice belonging to your... boyfriend? No, probably still too early to call it that. Fuck buddy? Nah, it was way more than that. Anyways, that's a discussion for another time.

"Sorry," you answered him, dodging your head and moving away from Javi, so he could lower the box and bring it to one of the tables by the wall. "Thanks," you patted his shoulder before removing the lid to find the multiple files you had been looking for.

"What do you need these for?" Your partner snatched one out for himself, opening it to take a quick look.

"Wysession asked me to get them. I don't know what exactly he thinks they could help with, but oh well," you explained, brushing off the dust that got caught on your clothes.

Javier scoffed with an eye-roll, "'Course he did."

You looked through some of the pieces of paper in silence before you felt a pair of eyes not leaving your form, making you look up. Your gaze interlocked with Javi's, but he just grinned at you.

You chuckled, "What?"

He shrugged, "Nothing. I just haven't seen you today yet."

You couldn't help the smile appearing on your lips, "Well," you closed the file you were holding, "You've seen me now."

With a smirk decorating his already unique features, he slid over to be closer to you, his fingers tracing one of the strands of your hair framing your face. "I have," he leaned forward just a tad bit more, his thumb holding your chin. You could feel his lips ghosting over yours for a second before he properly kissed you, making you smile into the kiss. For a moment everything was perfect. As soon as he leaned back again, freeing you from his touch, a pout appeared on your face, making him chuckle and glide his finger over your bottom lip. "You look beautiful today, Hermosa." Before you could say anything, he placed another soft, yet meaningful peck onto your lips, breaking it off again after only a few seconds.

"You're lucky there are no cameras in here," you commented, reading to pack everything together to leave the small room. Javier looked around, analysing the corners a tiny bit more.

"Maybe there are." Which got him a slap on his chest with the file you were still holding, making him chuckle and you shake your head. He turned around to the box, "Let's get these to Wysession." You couldn't even take his place as he swiftly picked up the box that would definitely be too heavy for you, along with the other one that was already on the table - you had managed to place one there as it had been kept at chest height, but you had still been out of breath after getting it out.

"Javi, s- I can carry them." Maybe it was true, maybe not, but you didn't want him to do the dirty work that had been assigned to you.

He walked past you, stopping and nudging his head to make you walk out of the room first. "I'm sure you can. But you shouldn't have to."

On your way to the meeting room, you had started talking quietly about what you could be doing that night, as your plans until then had only been to join Javi at his place, which was more than enough for him, but you were always up to do something more.

As soon as you entered the room though, the smiles on both of your faces fell once the Colonel opened his mouth.

"Peña," he started. "I don't remember asking you to get the files." 

Steve eyed the two of you suspiciously, wondering what exactly the two of you had been up to, praying it was only about getting what Wysession wanted. You took a seat beside him, sending him a quick grin to say 'Hi'.

Javier stayed by your side, the chair right next to you already behind him to sit down after snapping back at the older man. "Yeah, well you know, I just thought I'd be a nice co-worker and don't let a lady carry all of this shit."

Wysession smacked his lips, "And I think that if a woman's strong enough to be a DEA Agent, she should also be strong enough to carry a box of files."

Both of your partners noticed the deep breath you had taken, trying to hold yourself back, knowing that arguing with that man in power was only going to get you into trouble. Javi placed his comforting palm on your thigh under the table, giving it a soft squeeze, letting you know he got you.

"And if a man's confident enough to order a woman to do such thing, he should also be confident enough to do it himself. Don't you think?" He sent the Colonel a quick wink before the subject was changed in the room, and all focus was on the task at hand. Well, maybe all but yours because your mind was still holding onto the words Javi had let echo through the room.

As a small 'thank you', your hand found his that was still on your leg, your fingers wrapping around his rough ones. He got you.

-

"But it's good," Steve commented all of a sudden. Javi crossed his arms when a surprisingly cold wind passed by.

Yet another frown made its way onto his face. "What is?"

"That you got her," the blonde nodded towards the living room, where you had changed your seat to sit on the larger couch, you back now towards the two men. "I was sceptical at first, I'm not gonna lie-"

"I know you were," Javier remembered the talk Steve had with you and him just all too well. During dinner, whereas Connie had to sit next to him, beaming as she tried to control her big smile, just happy for you two and ready to engulf you in the biggest hug possible, squeezing you until you were begging her to stop - you had that kind of relationship - Steve was trying to stay as professional as possible, knowing how serious the situation would get if it got out that you were dating. He was just trying to help.

"But," the American defended himself, "I'm still glad you didn't listen to me when I first told you not to get too close to her. She's doing the world a favour." The confusion on Javi's face made him continue, "She's changing the one and only Javier Peña." He slapped his shoulder with a smirk as he passed his colleague, earning him a scoff in return.

The Latino had enough fresh air, and dwelling on the memories made him want to get back next to you as quickly as possible, so he joined his colleague on the way back inside. 

Connie was nowhere to be seen, probably in the bedroom, but you were still occupied with the baby on your lap, that seemed to be very close to falling asleep thanks to your fingers gently tracing the outline of her face. You were always so careful - not only with babies. Javier remembered the first time he ever saw you handling a gun. He wanted to shoot every person that gave you the okay to go out in the field with a hold as you had. The Latino had to teach you how to properly keep the gun in your hand, tightly enough to not let any idiot just smack it out of your grasp.

Even the way you would hold your pens at work, filling out whatever paperwork you had to do, was almost too gentle for Javi's liking. The first time he had met you, he wondered how somebody with a voice, so soft and sweet, could work in a surrounding like theirs. But you also had a hard side to yourself. It didn't show very often, but when it did... Lord help anyone that was around you.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed Javi's body directed towards you and as soon as you looked up, your eyes locked. You sent him a welcoming smile, making him grin as he walked up to you, gazing down at the little girl in your lap. You had put your feet up, the soles resting on the cushion you were sitting on, to let the Murphys' surrogate daughter rest against your upper thighs.

He reached down to brush a hand over the top of your head, getting a soft moan from you as you tilted your head back to look up at him.

"Do you wanna finish my beer?" You whispered, careful not to disturb the sleeping baby.

Javi's eyes found the almost empty bottle on the coffee table.

"You don't want it anymore?" He wondered since that had been your only drink of the entire night, and you were usually able to drink more. You shook your head in answer, "'m too tired."

It was common for you to watch your drinking very carefully, always looking out for not drinking too much, but as Javier reached down to pick up the beer bottle, he remembered the one time you didn't. The only time until now when he had to step in. When he felt needed.

-

It hadn't been an easy day at the office - the exact opposite in fact. For Javier and Steve, the day was just too long, but for you, it had been exhausting. Physically and emotionally. Some CIA agents were visiting the embassy and thought it was very funny and entertaining for a woman like you to be a DEA agent, and they weren't holding back on commenting on it.

You had holden yourself back as well as you possibly could, but every person had a snapping point. And once you had reached yours, it earned you a warning from Noonan and getting excused from work early. Not knowing what to do with the extra time, and on the verge of letting tears of frustration go, you found yourself in a bar just five minutes away from your workplace. Alcohol was always an easy way to numb everything.

You had lost count after what you thought to be your fourth drink, but who fucking cared. I had a horrible day at work, I deserved this, you told yourself.

Your partners obviously noticed how on edge you had been throughout the entire day, and the glances and whispered comments from the other men weren't helping. They were planning on checking on you, but Steve had received a call from Connie, urging him to come home, leaving Javier to take care of his girlfriend. Once he arrived at your place and knocked on the door, an uncomfortable feeling spread in his stomach as you didn't open the door. He tried again and again, but after four minutes, he realised, you weren't even home. The agent tried to call you, only to get greeted by your voice message, making him sigh and shake his head. He thought and thought, trying to find a possible place you could be. With his car, he drove around the area, looking into parks and such, not really believing to find you there, but you never know. Most stores were already closed, so you couldn't be there either. The last possibility would be a bar - definitely not the first place he'd expect you to be, but not an impossibility. He stopped at every bar, taking quick glances inside and asking around before he finally arrived at the one closest to the embassy - he couldn't even explain the weight leaving his shoulders once he saw you hunched over the bar counter. If he didn't know better, he'd think you were asleep.

Strutting across the floor until he came to a halt to your right, taking a seat on one of the barstools, he could hear the slight mumbles and hums coming from you. Since you you had your head down, resting on your arm on the top of the counter, you hadn't realised who had shown up, only when you suddenly felt the warmth of a palm on the back of your head, you dared to look up.

"Javi?" You squinted, trying to find out whether your eyes were playing a trick on you or if the man was actually sitting next to you.

He smirked at your dishevelled hair, trying to brush it cleaner with his fingers, "Hey," he spoke quietly and thanks to only a few people in that bar sitting far away from you, you were able to hear him clearly. "What are you doing here, Hermosa?"

You straightened your back slightly. "I think I'm supposed to be asking you that," the words lulled out of you, showing him just how drunk you actually were.

"How much have you had to drink?"

Uncontrollably, you started turning on the barstool, moving from side to side by pushing against the counter. You shrugged, "Two... or three..."

"Drinks? Or shots?"

"Maybe four," you continued to sing, "Or... six? Idontknow..." the last part just stumbled from your lips.

Javier shook his head with a sigh, "Jesus... alright," he got up from his seat, his right hand reaching for the drink in front of you. "You don't need that anymore."

You immediately noticed his movement and tried to stop him, "Heyyy," you whined out. "I wanted to drink that."

"No you didn't, come on," he tried to get you off the stool, but you were barely helping him, much rather just gazing at him with a pout.

"B-... But you drink too when you're frustrated," you commented.

He got you to stand up on your feet, his right arm wrapping around your waist to steady you. "Yeah," he nodded, "But you don't wanna be like me."

"And what if I do?" Your fingers started tracing his chest, covered by that white short-sleeved button-up you have come to love so much.

"Trust me. You don't."

Somehow, he managed to get you into the passenger seat of his car, securing you with the seatbelt you tended to forget to put on sometimes, before rushing to the driver's side and getting the car to start. He knew he wouldn't want you to stay at home alone tonight, so he was already planning his overnight stay at your place: getting you out of the car again, out of your clothes, maybe, if you weren't too tired, under the shower real quick, knowing how much you hated going to bed unshowered, and then into some pyjamas and under the covers to let you sleep off whatever alcohol was left in your body - which was currently still too much, he could tell.

You had closed your eyes but weren't sleeping, listening to the engine of Javier's car when something came to your mind. You abruptly shot your eyes open, "My car!"

He nodded, "I'll go get it tomorrow, don't worry." His comforting hand found its usual way to your upper thigh, resting there until you put your hand on top of his.

A few moments of silence passed before a deep sigh fell from your lips, clearly laced with frustration. Stopping at a red light, Javi turned his head to look at your side profile, almost catching himself smiling as he took in the soft glow of red elevating your features. God... what were you doing to him. His thumb started rubbing gently up and down your thigh.

"I hate men," you suddenly blurred out.

He couldn't help but to chuckle, taking your hand with his to change gear and continue the journey home. "I know, amor, I know."

"Not you, though," you quickly added, resting your head back, but turning it to look at him, "Not you."

"I know," he smiled, taking a quick glance at you and patting your leg. 

"And Steve," you continued, only making him shake his head with a smirk, "I could never hate Steve. Or you. But everyone else... no. I hate them," you continued to lull out every word, not sobering up in the slightest with every added statement. "I hate Escobar. You know, how much I hate Escobar?"

"I can imagine, sweetheart," he commented, earning him a moan of disgust from you. "What?" Javi looked at you in concern as you shook your head.

"Don't call me sweetheart. It makes me sound like an old married woman."

He chuckled, "In Texas, it's very common to call people that are close to you that."

"Still," you fought back, starting to play with his fingers in your lap, "Use your Spanish words you always call me."

"You like the Spanish names more?" To which you nodded, not even trying to hide the big grin on your lips. "Alright, muñeca."

"Muñeca?" You smiled, "What does that mean?"

"You're half Latina, you should know that," he teased, pulling into the driveway of your apartment complex.

You opened your mouth, "Oh yeah... I should know that..." Dazed in your thoughts, you didn't notice the snicker from Javier as he exited the car to get you from your side.

-

A chuckle almost tumbled from his lips at the memory, thinking back to how hard it was to get you to change into more comfortable clothing and into bed because as soon as he had put you onto the mattress, a sudden rush of energy rushed through your body. What a night...

"You wanna go home?" He wondered, lowering himself slowly onto the sofa down next to you, careful to not disturb the baby that was daringly close to falling asleep.

A yawn was his answer, but a nod from you also followed. "Yeah," you patted his thigh gently. "I'm just gonna take Olivia to Connie."

"Olivia?" Javier asked you, his eyes following your fingers that were still drawing along the sides of the baby's face.

You nodded, "Connie said she's been thinking of naming her that. I think it fits. A beautiful name for a beautiful little girl." The sudden soft smile that appeared on the baby's face made you copy the expression, beaming at your lap. "Oh my god," you gasped, making the man next to you chuckle. "Do you think she understood me?"

"I doubt that, muñeca." His arm had found its way to lie comfortably behind you, his thumb rubbing your shoulder.

You shrugged, "Who knows, maybe they do understand us, but just can't communicate." As soon as the infant opened her eyes, you smiled brightly at her. "Right, sweet girl? You know how beautiful you are." Tapping her nose to make her grin.

At the exact same moment, a sudden flash blinded you and your boyfriend, and the baby apparently too as her cries rang through your ears. Looking up, you caught Steve standing in front of you, a polaroid camera in his hands, smirking proudly at you and your partner.

"Steve!" You called out, shaking your head along as you tried to soothe her again, "Well done, dad."

"Fucking idiot," Javier cursed out as you got up to bounce the baby up and down, hoping to calm her down.

"Javi!" You hissed at him, shielding the small ear closer to him. "Not in front of the kid!"

"Cariño, she can't understand us."

"You don't know that." Were your last words before you left the room to join the other woman in the bedroom, handing her her surrogate daughter back. That left Javier and Steve yet alone again.

"Great job," the Latino sarcastically complimented the other agent, who was grinning at his hands.

"So worth it though."

"What? Making your kid cry?" Javi scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, until Steve lifted up the polaroid picture he had taken, showing it to his partner. It was perfect. Javier and you sitting comfortably on the couch, looking down at your lap where you had held the little girl. Both smiling. Both happy. He didn't notice you leaning into the arm he had draped over you, but it was clear to see in the picture.

Peña cleared his throat as he stood up, brushing his hands over his jeans. "Keep it." But Steve shook his head.

"Nah man, that's for you two."

Javier pushed back his outstretched hand, "It's fine."

Before the blonde man could start an argument, you came back into the living room, your eyes immediately on the two. It didn't take you long to see what Steve was holding.

"Oh my god!" You smiled with bright eyes, jogging over to your partner, and snatching the picture into your own hands. "It's so cute. Look!" You showed it to your boyfriend even though you knew he had already seen it. He shook his head, but Murphy was quicker than him.

"Keep it," he told you. "One of the only pictures I've ever seen where Javi actually looks decent."

"Hey!" You hit his upper arm with the polaroid before looking down at it again with a grin that was so wide, Javier could've sworn it almost reached your ears. "But thanks," with a shy smile and a nod, you thanked your co-worker, who copied your actions. "I just said goodbye to Connie by the way," you directed your statement to the man next to you.

"You're going already?" The blonde American wondered, walking back into the kitchen to place the Polaroid camera on the countertop.

You nodded, "Looking after your kid tires you out. But you wouldn't know that." With the sarcastic smile you sent him, you disappeared into the hallway. The two men followed you quietly.

Javier took your jacket off the hook first, waiting for you to turn your back to him so he could help you slide in. Steve leaned against the frame of the walkthrough, eyeing the couple smugly.

"Well, at least I now know who not to call when we need someone to look after her," he teased you, knowing it would offend you since you had a reputation for being good with kids.

"How dare you," you gasped, pointing a finger at him, which made him laugh out loud. Javi shook his head and placed his hands on your shoulders to turn you towards the door, ready for the night to finally come to an end. He pushed you forward until you had no choice but to push down the door handle and open the front door of their apartment.

You turned around, "See ya tomorrow!" Calling out to your other partner.

Javier did the same, adding a, "Say good night to Connie and Olivia for me." Getting a confused look at the mention of a 'Olivia' in return.

-

You spent the car ride to your boyfriend's place comfortably reminiscing about the evening, asking him about what Steve and he had talked about on the balcony, but only receiving 'nothing important, just small talk back. He had asked you about your conversations with Connie in return, wondering what you had discussed. What he didn't expect was to hear all of the gossip from your co-worker's wife's work, having to remember names he had never heard of before, which suddenly seemed very important. But he enjoyed it. He could've listened to you for many more hours but had tired yourself out from talking, immediately shutting quiet as soon as you had arrived.

Javier didn't waste a second before he took off his clothing, immediately heading for the bathroom to take a shower and call it a night. You followed him, brushing your teeth while he was washing his body, and switching positions as soon as he was done. He put on a pair of thin pyjama pants you got him, that he usually only put on out of courtesy since you both knew they'd come off during the night eventually - either because of you or simply because that man gets too hot for his own good while sleeping. You had thrown on your pyjama set, consisting of satin shorts along with a matching strappy top and went back to the bedroom, where your boyfriend was already waiting, having thrown himself onto the mattress, his feet still on the ground by the side of the bed.

"Is someone tired?" You teased him, walking up to him to lean down and brush some of his hair away from his forehead.

He huffed out a big chunk of air. "Sometimes Steve talks even more than you."

"Hey, you've never complained about me talking."

"No, but about Steve's." His eyes fluttered open at the sound of your giggles, filling his stomach and heart. Your fingers continued playing with his hair when a thought popped into your head.

"Where's your wallet?" Letting your eyes travel across the room to see if you could catch sight of the leather object.

"Why?" His hand found yours, holding onto it as he pushed himself up to sit with his other one. Javi gently dragged you in closer to stand in between his legs that he had parted to make room for you. Instead of answering him, you just showed him your open palm, sending him a quick smile along with it.

He nudged his head towards his nightstand, where the purse had been placed on. You reached out to grab it. His gaze was fixed on you and your hands as you opened it, placing the object you had been holding into one of the compartments.

"Here!" You showed him your masterpiece. You had put the picture Steve took of you two into the see-through slit in his wallet, and you seemed to be very proud of it. Javier couldn't help the chuckle coming from him. He got the purse back into his grasp.

"Gracias, corazón."

"You're welcome," you smiled back at him, intertwining your fingers with each other behind his neck as he threw the wallet back to where it had been before his hands rested on one of their favourite spots - your hips. Brushing them up and down your sides, he gazed up at you, who was already looking down at him.

"Have you been frowning a lot lately?" Your sudden question took him by surprise, making him unknowingly scrunch his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

"Like now!" You giggled, running your right thumb between his brows to decrease the tension. "Don't do that. You'll get wrinkles."

Javier lips slightly curled at your concern. "I think those come with age, mi amor. But you wouldn't know that." Adding the little comment you teased Steve with, hiding it in a compliment and making you grin.

"Come one," he motioned for you to get on the bed while he lifted the covers, so you both could get comfortable underneath them. You scootched in closer, so your faces were only a few inches apart.

"Aren't you tired?" You wondered, feeling his arm wrap tighter around you to pull you in even tighter and place a sweet kiss on your lips. You let your fingers brush through the locks at the back of his head, getting him to close his eyes and sigh. The tension was leaving his entire body just with those simple touches of yours. The magic hold you had on him made you grin. You loved having this effect on him. You knew you had it. It was in intimate moments like this that Javier would let himself completely relax underneath you. And that happened multiple times. Whether it was thanks to your voice, your touch, or simply your being. You relaxed him. 

The two of you shared a few moments in silence, in which you had moved closer to him, he now on his back, your cheek resting against his shoulder, his hand brushing up and down your sides and back while your fingers were resting on his chest. But there was one question playing on the tip of your tongue that you just couldn't hold back anymore.

"What do you think of Olivia?" His movements on your body stopped for a second, almost making you gulp, but he played his surprise off and continued rubbing your back.

"I think... she's... a baby?" Making it sound like a question. A snicker fell from your lips, and you teasingly nudged his hips with yours.

"Nooo, that's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean, hermosa?"

You sat up straighter, pushing yourself off his shoulder to look at him, his hand still on your back.

"Just," you shrugged, "In general. What do you think... of her... as a baby, I guess." 

Javier noticed the slight shyness in your eyes when you let your gaze wander around, not really interlocking with his. He smirked at the realisation,

"Are you asking me how I feel about kids? Like having kids?"

You quickly looked at him, "No. No, I wouldn't do that. I know you." His confused look made you continue. "I know who you are." Suddenly, your voice became much quieter than before.

"And who am I?" He copied your tone, turning this conversation much more sensual than you had planned for it to be. You didn't miss his hand travelling lower down your body, brushing over the curve of your ass, down to your leg to throw one over his.

"Javier Peña," you simply answered him.

He nodded, "That's my name."

The unamused facial expression of yours would've made him laugh if he didn't find the situation more serious than he would've liked to admit. Something about this felt important. Very important.

"You know what I mean," you tilted your head, avoiding his gaze by tracing his collarbones with your finger, your eyes following it.

"I'm afraid I don't, mi amor." The nickname still made you tingle. From the moment he first used it up until that moment - the feeling continued to be the same. You felt loved. You felt wanted. You felt needed.

You let out a soft sigh, looking down before back up again. "I don't know... you're just... Javier Peña. The cold-blooded DEA agent-"

"Is that all you think of me?"

"No," you quickly added, "Of course not. That's just who you are to other people. To me, you're... I don't know... nice?"

"Nice?" He chuckled, making you do the same as you hid your face in his neck. You could already tell this question was a mistake, but you continued, distancing yourself from him, placing your palm on his chest

"What do you want me to say? You're so sweet and bubbly?" You both laughed in synch, his arms wrapping just a little tighter around you. "You're not, Javi! You're rough but soft around-"

"I swear to God if someone calls me soft one more time-"

"Who called you soft?"

"Fucking Steve." You laughed out loud at his confession. Your hands cradled his face, placing a few pecks on his cheek until you reached his lips.

"Aww, my sweetie is getting soft." This earned you a pinch to your thigh, making you jolt up and chuckle even more.

"That's what you get for saying shit like that," he commented with a subtle smile, catching your lips with a kiss, almost making you moan by the force of it.

You patted the side of his face gently. "No, no, don't worry. That just wouldn't be you anymore. I'd hate that."

The man smirked, "So you admit that you like it rough?"

"Javi!" You smacked his chest, but he caught your hand and pulled you in for another kiss.

"Just admit it, cariño," he mumbled against your lips.

"Never, Peña," you giggled.

He stole a couple more kisses before releasing you. "Alright, then back to your question." His hands rested on the side of your legs while your finger traced invisible lines on his chest.

"Nooo, please. Let's just forget I ever asked."

"You want me to forget you asking me if I want kids?"

You gasped, "That was not my question!" But he just continued to look at you. A few seconds passed, and no one said anything. Until you broke the silence, finding it slowly become unbearable where you left off. "But-"

"There we go," he proudly smirked. You shook your head with a smile.

"If I was hypothetically asking. Your hypothetical answer would be...?"

"Why are you worrying so much about that all of a sudden? Hypothetically speaking." He seemed genuinely interested in hearing your answer to his question.

You shrugged and thought for a while before dropping your hand down, finding his fingers to play with now. "You didn't even think twice about it when you found Olivia. It seemed so obvious to you that Steve would take her." Ah, there it was.

Javier took a deep breath. "Yeah... I guess so." His eyes focused on your intertwined fingers for a split second before looking up again. "For one, because he and Connie have been married for quite a while, so, you know, it seemed fitting. And second, because... well... I'm not exactly a-"

"Family person." You answered for him with a nod.

"Right," he sighed, looking up at the ceiling, not at you, almost in shame. You could hear another heavy breath escaping his lips. "But you are." And his eyes were back on you again. Regret and fear. Maybe even uncertainty. That's what they showed. You were sure of it.

"I guess," you shrugged.

"You're great with kids. Of course, you are," he assured you. By now you knew that if there was one person that knew you better than anyone else, it would be Javi. The multiple nights you spent venting your problems onto him - past, present and future possible problems. Even before you shared a bed. That's how you bonded. Shared fears from the past. Regrets you didn't want to go through again. He knew you like the back of his hand. You weren't yet sure if you could say the same thing about him.

"Yeah..." you placed his hands in front of you, looking down. Hands that have killed. But also hands that have brought you love and pleasure. And oh, the many more things those hands could do. "But you're not."

Javier didn't nod or shake his head. He just kept his gaze on you. He didn't know what to say or how to react. Was it too early to have this conversation? The two of you were close to sharing your second anniversary together, so he guessed the time had to come at some point... right? He had admitted his love for you a long time ago, he could admit this too.

"What do you want?"

His question made you look up, "Hm?" You wondered, slightly confused by what he had meant.

"In the future. What do you want? And be honest," he squeezed your hands assuringly.

You gulped. "I think that changed when I came to Colombia, you know?"

"Then before that. Before you knew about all this shit here. What was the future you dreamed of?"

You let the question linger in the air for a second before you opened your mouth with a smile. "I really wanted to be a mom. I always thought I'd become a young mom, to be honest. But then I found my way into law enforcement and I knew I couldn't have both... But I think I'd still want that. I really loved my mom growing up. She did a great job raising me and my siblings, so I definitely know I'd have someone to look up to in that sense." He continued listening to you attentively, his hands moving along your skin gently. "I want a house. A white house preferably. With a big garden. Maybe even a farm or something. Animals. Especially cats. Maybe a dog... I don't know... I'd decide on that when the time comes. But... yeah... kinda do want kids." Javi didn't miss the change of tense when you spoke about wanting to become a mother.

"Alright," he nodded, placing his hand on your cheek to pull you in for a kiss. You moved your lips along with his, fitting perfectly like usual. You separated yourself from him, your hand back on his chest.

"That's all you have to say?" You chuckled a bit at his response.

Javier's hand came to your neck, his fingers tracing your skin. "Yeah." He nodded, definitely not understanding what you had meant.

"So, I'll just say whatever, and you go along with it?" You smiled at your partner, slightly amused by his opinion on the subject, yet not fully believing it.

He shrugged, "If you want a family with a house and pets, who am I to deny you of that?"

"But that's not how it works. That's not how a relationship works."

"And how does a relationship work, mi amor?" He wondered, pushing himself up to put you underneath his body, holding himself up with his arms on either side of you.

"You're supposed to say what you think of something, and then I say what I think of it, and we'll try to find a middle ground and settle on that," you explained, knowing you had his full attention.

"And what would the middle ground on this be? No kids, kids, only one. There is no middle ground here." You didn't really think about that. He was right. But who would be the person to give in now? Even if you hadn't decided that yet, Javier had already made his decision a while ago. "If you want that. I'm gonna make sure that you'll get it."

You shook your head, your fingers finding the brown locks by his neck. "But that's not you."

"Says who?"

"You-"

"I never said that," he argued. "I never said I didn't want a future like Steve's." His statement surprised you. And he couldn't lie, it was hard for him to admit. Javier wasn't used to showing this side of himself. But if anyone got to see him like that, it was you. "It's definitely not made for me, that's for sure. And I don't really think that it's very smart to have small kids running around in a country like this while you're hunting down drug lords and whatnot every day. But just because I didn't think that life was for me, doesn't mean that can't change."

His words let the shiver move from your head down to your toes, filling your stomach with butterflies and your heart with desire. You never expected to hear words even similar to these from Javier. To be fair, there hadn't been many times where you thought of having a potential future with kids with your boyfriend - it always seemed so clear to you that as soon as you gave yourself to him, you had to let that dream go for good. But here you were, underneath the man you had come to love, gazing into his big brown eyes while he poured out his entire heart to you. You knew he meant every word. Every single one. And maybe it was still a little too soon to truly think about this subject intensively (or maybe not), but God, you'd be lying if you said your want and need for him didn't grow even bigger than you could've ever imagined.

You nodded up to him, biting down on your lips to hide the smile that would've been way too bright for this moment. "Okay." You whispered, pulling him down to you to let him know that maybe you had now just given him a simple and short answer, but Lord, you meant it.

Javier grinned at you, "Okay."

You weren't going to get to work on it right away. But maybe one day. Maybe one day this conversation would repeat itself and right afterwards you'd find yourself moaning his name out into the world as he made sure that you got what you had always dreamed of.

That wasn't the Javier Peña everyone else knew, but it was the Javi that you knew and loved. Just the right amount of rugged and soft to make sure you knew you were loved in every way possible, but also protected and safe. 

He smirked down as he noticed your need to pull him closer. Once again, your lips met, making you melt right into the sheets underneath you and moan into his lips when you felt his hand riding up your torso underneath your silk shirt.

"Now, what was that about you not liking rough?"

"Javi," you scolded him with a chuckle as you felt a rush of heat rush up to your cheeks, but definitely also through your body. His hot breath tickled your neck as you started working his lips against your skin, making you sigh heavily.

"I think I'm gonna have to prove you wrong on that, muñeca," he whispered against your ear, making a grin when you pulled him back to face you, not even giving me a second to think before smashing your lips against his.

Javi didn't mention the sensation that filled his body back at the Muphy's place when his eyes found you with that little girl. He'd let you know about that once the time was right.

pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask

#javier peña #x reader #Pedro pascal #javier pena #imagine #one shot #imagines #fluff #smutty #narcos #netflix

[campgender]

i was scrolling your “life is in your home too” tag, which I love btw, and saw a post about how you learned to be a good dom from experienced expert doms by reading how they dom and some of their best scenes, do you think you could point me in the direction of some resources for me to study that too? thanks in advance, if not, thanks anyway!

(post referenced is here - link 1)

first of all tysm for this ask (+ your incredibly kind follow-up), it was a delight to receive + i’ve been wanting an excuse to talk about a lot of this for a while so i very much appreciate the interest!

as always please keep in mind that i am Just Some Fem, nothing is universal including when it comes to D/s & i can only speak to what works for me. i try to focus on starting points rather than specifics but ultimately my advice will always be limited by what i needed to hear & wasn’t told, which may not be what’s helpful for a different person. with that being said, here’s some suggestions!

i’ve posted a previous reading list (link 2) with relevant recs; particularly the practicality + sex writing sections have the kind of thing you’re looking for. specifically, The New Topping Book (2003) is a solid starting point; i definitely have my issues with it (haven’t read it recently enough to recall many specifics but i have the sense of general pervasive racism & ableism) but it did a good job at making me think & i appreciate the supportive tone they were going for

another book added to my tbr since then is Coming to Power (link 3), released by SAMOIS in 1983

other authors whose sex writing has been influential in my life: Sandra Cisneros, Natalie Diaz, Joan Nestle, Judy Grahn

the fic At The End of His Rope by Letterblade (link 4) is genuinely some of my favorite sex writing of all time & accomplishes the incredibly impressive feat of representing a broad array of dom styles & changes over time in the same piece

my “impurity culture” tag (link 5) houses the building blocks of my sexual ethic

i’ve found many of those foundations by poking around the incredible bodies of work original & archived @newsmutproject @woman-loving @gatheringbones

for me, studying sex is the same as studying poetry – reading for craft is a different process than for pleasure (not that there isn’t a great deal of pleasure to be found in such practice, especially for sadists – perhaps that’s why as a child i never resonated with Billy Collins’ “Introduction to Poetry,” like i love tying poems to chairs & beating them idk what to tell you). so, keeping in mind that these are suggestions not requirements, here’s how i read for + work on craft:

there is no such thing as too much journaling. this can take whatever form you prefer – voice memo, discord message to yourself, the noble notes app, your own personal sexy red string corkboard, a vast & stunning array of other approaches i can’t even begin to imagine. i personally have an elaborate web of spreadsheets & google docs lmao. what matters is developing a collection of ideas you want to play with + a practice of continually reflecting on past experiences.

pay attention to structure, not just content. find a scene you think is disjointed and pick at the seams, brainstorm better transitions. then find a scene that flows so smoothly it carries you with it and figure out what makes it work.

rewrite a scene you’re drawn to or affected by to suit your own preferences. i first did this when i couldn’t shake “Interlude 3” (link 6) from my head after reading The New Topping Book; you can read my variation on the theme here (link 7) if you’re interested.

write or think through a scene fantasy you have from negotiation to aftercare. obviously it’s very difficult if not impossible to fully script a scene in advance; the purpose isn’t planning something you’ll later do but rather getting used to coming up with ideas to get from one disparate moment / act to the next.

revisit a scene you’ve read, written, thought about, etc and list the physical & mental acts that are required / expected of the sub (eg, kneeling for 10 minutes; making eye contact; counting to 30, etc). then rework the scene for a sub who has the same interests & goals who cannot do 20% (or 50%, or any) of these acts.

revisit a previous scene and list the places where you think a sub might safeword & why. then rework it with the sub safewording somewhere that isn’t any of these places.

i also recommend keeping in mind that like… for me, reading about ethical sex can often be a very distressing process for the same reason that it’s liberating: because it proves that things i’ve experienced are not the way sex has to be. i’ll tell this story in its fullness one day but the first time i read S/HE by Minnie Bruce Pratt i literally had a flashback to events i’d repressed for years, it was devastating, i’m so grateful for it. hell, in the process of compiling resources for this post i cried twice editing this quote (link 8) because between reading that book the first time & now someone did “respond with scorn or ridicule” when i safeworded. so i would really encourage folks to approach this kind of work with as much grace & comfort for yourself as you can muster or borrow – if it’s really fucking hard, you’re not alone in that, & it’s okay to take your time + pace yourself + seek support.

your + others’ interest is definitely motivating me to actually write posts i’ve been tossing around for months so thank you again & feel free to keep an eye out for more shut-in sex tips in my new “tomorrow sexting will be good again” tag. would love to hear your thoughts on any of this post / these or other books / whatever really lol. wishing you all the best & i hope today is kind to you! 💓

#asks #D/s #reading lists #mac.txt #tomorrow sexting will be good again

[continuous-spec]

Mass Effect Fic: Bait (1/5)

Summary: Garrus struggles with jealousy as Shepard acts as bait for Morinth.

Length: 2,160

Links: AO3

Purple and red neon lights danced off Garrus' visor. The ever-looming words of Afterlife had become routine during his two-year stint on Omega. He walked past, moving to a side wall where a thin turian loitered.

"Jauurut sent me," Garrus coughed out as he approached.

With a grunt, the turian hit a panel, almost indistinguishable from the others. The neon lights grew and spun. The wall slid to the side. Thrumming dark tones and dimly pink lights greeted Garrus on the VIP floor of Afterlife.

"You fight, and you're out. Defending yourself is fine. Be careful in there, and enjoy your time."

Omega was the last place Garrus wanted to be, especially not enjoy. His eyes darted around, waiting for someone to ambush him. He took a breath to calm himself. Very few people knew Archangel's true face. Well, those who did were now dead. And with the new scars and outfit change to blend with the clientele, Garrus may as well have been a new turian.

He worked his way through the crowd to the corner of the bar. The seat allowed him a good view of the entrance and dance floor. Four empty seats surrounded him.  

Garrus sat crowded by several of his men at the bar. Ripper's long limbs hung on Garrus as he drank in celebration. Weaver and Sidonis laughed, clapping each other on the back, while Meleni watched the crowd. Pride swelled in Garrus’ chest, watching his team grow and bond. They could take on anything Omega threw at them. 

A blue hand waving in his face snapped him back. He needed to focus, to leave his men in the past. 

“Hey, big guy, this seat taken?” 

“Take your pick,” Garrus gestured to the empty seats.  

“Thanks! Just need a break from dancing. I’m Vlyrica.” 

Garrus cheered his drink towards her. 

“Caeus.” 

“Not so chatty are we?” She asked with a hint of glee.

“I can if you need me to be.” 

“I like that answer.” Her bright white teeth flashed out. 

The young asari, no more than a century old, plopped down to the nearest seat. Liquor wafted from her breath onto Garrus. Bright pink markings under her eyes popped with the light blue of her skin. A tight green dress covered most of her body. She’d played as a good distraction. He chatted with her, only half listening as he scanned the bar for the asari he was looking for.

Morinth.

A plan dreamed up by Samara, no doubt, to lure the all-powerful asari with Shepard as bait.

Shepard had planned to do this alone, with only Samara hiding in the shadows. He couldn't have that. Shepard had already gotten herself poisoned and stabbed on two different accounts on the asteroid. Now, with no armor? Or weapon? She needed more than just to be live bait. 

Besides, he knew Omega. He was best for the job. He fitted in. He wouldn't register as long as he kept his head down and stayed drinking.

Garrus continued to talk with the young asari. He half listened, nodded along, and chimed in when appropriate. Vlyrica laughed, continued drinking, and babbled on as Garrus scanned the scenery.

A drunk turian making a nuisance of himself with one of the dancers in one corner, a krogan thug in the next, and journalists about to get themselves killed. The usual for Omega. But he still waited for one person in particular.

The wall to the entrance hissed. Purple and red lights illuminated Shepard's figure as she walked in. A black dress clung to her body, and red-lined patterns decorated her waist. Dark brown hair slicked back to her waist, swaying with each step. Black and red makeup surrounded her eyes.

Shepard turned heads as she walked in alone. Garrus tried not to be one of them. But the patterns on her dress accentuated her muscles as she walked. He allowed himself a quick look and went back to Vlyrica.

Within ten minutes of her entrance, she dismantled two gang operations with the threat of her presence, saving a journalist in the process. It was disheartening how easily she fit into a role Garrus had worked hard at for two years.

Finishing up, Shepard made a beeline to the bartender. She gave a curt glance and nothing more to Garrus. Only ten feet away, but for now, they were strangers. 

Garrus avoided watching her, focusing on the young asari next to him.

A laugh escaped Shepard's mouth as she spoke with the bartender. Fake. While all human laughs sounded the same to him. Shepard’s had a distinct nature. A surprised snort usually came from her. Unattractive, at least according to the human crew who noted it. But to Garrus, it was just very much Shepard.

This laugh was light and controlled, but with an all too convincing smile, as she placed her hand on the human bartender's forearm.

Garrus tried not to react or notice it, but his good mandible flicked out. The same carefully placed hand she had put on Garrus' forearm when she proposed their arrangement.

Blowing off steam.

They weren't anything serious—friends with an arrangement. But how to start that arrangement has been nothing more than a highly intense operation for him. When he tried to initiate, based on all the research, he had not gotten far.

Garrus' ungloved hand, trimmed talons, circled the small of Shepard's back. Her chest began to form a red bloom that soon rose to her face.  Shepard bolted up from her seat and excused herself to the restroom. She came out, fresh-faced, smelling floral-like, and sat closer to him, almost atop him. His hands fumbled nervously around her, unsure how to continue with the interruption. They spend the rest of the night just talking and building model ships.

A high, intense voice cut through the embarrassing memories, returning him to the dark neon club.

"And then I'll be traveling to Palaven after finishing here. I still have a few more pieces in the works."

Vlyrica looked up to him, waiting for a response. Eyes light and full of life. Too sweet for Omega and was most likely to get herself killed sooner if she didn't follow through with those plans. 

"So why Omega for your project? Do you actually have to be here, or is it some kind of starving artist thing?"

"I guess 'cause my father was from here. He was an artist, too." She paused, looking off towards the crowd, and continued. 

"I want to create amazing oil portraits like him. My goal is to capture the true essence of the citizens of the city they inhabit. Not just the gangs or politics, but the hardworking people trying to get by."

Garrus tried not to laugh at the endeavor. The true, hardworking people were either dead or barely getting by to be at a club. His men wouldn’t get such recognition.  

"Is that why you're talking to me?"

"Well, would you call yourself hardworking?" She laughed at her retort.

"Maybe, but what got you talking to me?"

She turned her head, avoiding his gaze. "Your scars caught my eye."

Garrus froze, not liking the direction of the conversation. She could be genuinely interested in him or have figured him out to be Archangel.

But she continued at his discomfort. "I've never seen a turian with scars like that before. They look fresh. Did you get them here?"

Garrus' mandibles flicked out in irritation again. Pain shot through his jaw on the damaged side. The bandages were off, and the plates healed over, but he still barely had function on his right side.

"I don't mean to offend! I mean, umm, I just think they would make for an interesting subject for a painting." Vlyrica blurred out. "You would, I mean."

Garrus sighed with relief. She was either a fantastic actor or a typical artist.

"None taken. It's nice to know they are more than just an eyesore."

"You are definitely not an eyesore." She looked at him, eyes wide, and a purple hue formed on her cheeks. Garrus coughed, uncomfortable with the attention on himself.

"Well, you should leave Omega soon. The tide pool beaches of Cipritine are pristine this time of year. They'll dry up by the end of the season."

"Oh, I'll have to look into that!" Vlyrica followed along with the change in topic. "You know Ilium beaches…" she continued, acting as his great cover.

Shepard remained in his peripheral as he listened to Vlyrica. Shepard’s hand still rested on the bartender. Garrus’ mandibles flicked again at the sight. The irritation worsened as Shepard's voice cooed over the intercom, far too airy and light than Garrus had ever heard from her.

"Now, what if the whole bar could have a round on you, Edwin?" Shepard's hand trailed up his arm. The bartender laughed and stammered over Shepard as she stared into him.

"Alright, just this once, and you know…my shift ends in a few hours if you're gonna stick around."

"We'll see about that," Shepard played along as she sipped her drink and winked.

The bartender began wiping up drinks for anyone in earshot of the bar. Vlyrica sat up with excitement.

"Oh, how cool! Thank you!" Vlyrica slurred out, reaching for her new drink. "Same for you, big guy?" She nudged into Garrus with a smile. 

Garrus almost felt Shepard's glare as Vlyrica hung off of him, but her attention moved to other patrons before he could be sure. 

"Sure, but you should probably be taking it easy. Omega is not somewhere you want to stumble around drunk.

"Ohh, you're no fun!"

"Okay, fine. One more, then," Garrus laughed as he took his drink. He raised his glass and cheered with her.

"I'm glad I can be so convincing," Vlyrica giggled as she took a sip.

As the free drinks arrived, the teeming crowd cheered. Shepard raised her glass to the other patrons. She winked in the general direction of the cheers, carefully not towards Garrus.

Even then, the heat on his neck began to rise, and plates in his chest plates moved and caught on each other as his heart rate increased. One drink over an hour, but he still felt on edge with a buzz in his system. And how Shepard moved and acted was not helping.

A wry smile formed on Shepard's lips as her fingertips trailed along the bartop. She moved on to her next target to grab attention to herself- not that she needed to do much else. Garrus tried not to watch her walk away, but he still stole a glance. Shattering glass interrupted the sight of her swaying waist and hips. 

"I said I want you, not more booze," The obnoxious turian leered over a dancer. He had become more belligerent as the night went on. "Come on. We can go back to my place. I have the creds."

"I'm a dancer, not a hooker! Security!" The dancer screamed, looking in Garrus' direction, eyes wide and wild. Garrus almost left his seat as a voice came over his comms.

"Garrus, do not get up. Let Shepard handle it." Samara's ice-cold voice stopped him, as if she kill him on the spot if he moved.

A bark came from Shepard, almost like order, as she separated the turian from the dancer.

"Sober up and stop bothering her."

The drunk sneered and laughed while looking down at Shepard. He had almost a meter on her.

"If I can't have her, you'll do just fine." His hand shot forcefully at her waist, enough for Shepard to step back.

Garrus gripped his hands on the bar, stinging with anger at the sight. He tried not to bring attention to himself. He didn't trust Samara but had to trust Shepard to handle it herself.

Without a word, the drunk's hand unnaturally bent back and fell to the floor in a crumpled mess.

The asari dancer kicked past him to thank Shepard. "Thank you! Security was asleep."

"No problem," Shepard laughed at the statement. "I barely touched him."

As Shepard left, an asari in a skin-tight black jumpsuit emerged from the shadows. The asari's eyes lingered up and down Shepard's form. Garrus couldn't tell if it was from lust or hunger.

"I've been watching you. You're the most interesting person in this place."

"He was nothing." Shepard's voice came out calm and confident as she watched the asari. Waiting for her next move.

"I don't doubt it. It seems you handle yourself quite well."

"Oh? Well, whose noticing?"

"I'm Morinth. Why don't you join me at my table? I'd love to know more about you."

A pit formed in Garrus' stomach–the plan worked.

"Lead the way."

Morinth placed her hand on the small of Shepard's back. Garrus watched the same red bloom spread from her chest to her face. He gritted his fangs together and dug his grip tighter into the bar.

He had to trust Shepard.

#mass effect #shakarian #commander shepard #garrus vakarian #mass effect fic #happy n7 day :) #got some inspo with replaying!

[powerfulscribbles]

In Need of An Aid - A G/t Elden Ring fic

to Chapter 1 | Chp. 2 l Chp. 3

Prologue: Ambitions

Chapter summary: Lord Mohg summons Varré at the Mohgwyn dynasty palace to discuss something of great significance.

Warnings: creepy undertones, possessiveness, the whole Mohgwyn dynasty and Mohg lore are their own warning.

This story is soon to contain g/t stuff, so if that's not your thing it's in your best interest to click away! Thank thee kindly~

Words: 2,3k

° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ °

Varré had to hurry. Unanticipatedly, his Lord had requested his presence at the Mohgwyn Dynasty Palace.

He quickly scanned the damp, marshy area surrounding the Rose Church to see if someone was either coming or looking his way, before teleporting inside the mausoleum; all thanks to his Pureblood Knight's medal that he always had on him.

As he appeared, a Sanguine Noble was already expecting him to escort him to the throne room.

The walk was silent. Only his own footsteps echoed in the corridor, the taller creature not making a single sound as it was leading the way.

Varré had no idea why the Luminary had planned a private meeting with him, all of a sudden.

Thankfully he was not too busy at the moment, and he even had just cleaned his dirty gloves and changed his vest. Lord Mohg wouldn’t have most likely minded the bloodspots on the clothes, but nothing matters more than the respect before someone so close to the divine.

When they reached the entrance to the vast room, the Sanguine Noble behind him slowly disappeared, sinking ominously into a pool of blood.

The war surgeon took a couple of deep breaths. He had nothing to fear.

He was proud of his role in the upcoming birth of the dynasty, nobody deserved praises more than him. So many Knights of Blood anointed and strayed away from the utter misguiding path of the Two Fingers, all his own work. Never-ending offerings of blood to the Divinity, they could fill a bottomless ocean with it.

That being said though, the Luminary rarely requested to speak with him personally. Interrupting his own slumber besides the Divinity.

Must be a very important matter, no doubt.

He trusted his Lord with all his heart. He trusted him even more than he did himself.

Draped in his usual elegant, elaborated robe, the one-eyed Omen awaited for him at the bottom of the throne room.

“My sublime Lord” the white mask said, bowing deeply. “Have you asked to see me?” he continued, maintaining the bow and looking down still.

“I have, dear Varré. You may approach now” the demigod commanded him. Trident in one hand, he raised a clawed finger to call him forth.

The surgeon’s eyes followed his master’s movement and stood up, making his way towards him. He wondered if the Luminary could feel the slight nervousness in his stride. Despite the unusual call, the cursed son of Queen Marika looked very pleased, even smirking as his servant was coming closer.

“You might be wondering why I have wished to summon you today, on this fine afternoon” the monarch broke the silence, placing his large hand on Varré’s shoulders. The latter nodded, definitely impressed by his Lord’s courtesy.

“Yes, oh Luminary. Is something the matter?” the surgeon inquired, with a concerned tone.

“Oh no, no. Not at all. For now, at least.” The Lord looked down at him with his single dark yellow eye, inquisitively.

“I have learned that you have befriended a maidenless Tarnished. A lowborn woman, riding a spirit steed, that often comes to visit and chat with you. She must treat you so nicely. What a sweetheart.”

When the Luminary mentioned her, the usually very composed surgeon couldn’t help but blush subtly under his mask. His Lord never ceased to impress him, he already knew about her!

“An unique breed indeed. One that was able to even strike down a shardbearer demigod and gather a Great Rune of the shattered Elden Ring. I can feel she is going to grow even more powerful as the days go by. No other Tarnished but Roundtable Knight Vyke the Dragonspear was ever close to accomplish such a feat.”

“Oh yes my Luminary, there is plenty of potential within her. As of now, I’m currently working on making her one of the finest Knights of Blood. She is still to be introduced to the trails, but she’s equal to an early rose bud. With the right amount of love, attention and patience she is soon to be ready to join the ranks, I am sure.”

“Have you discussed about this with her though? Brought it up to her, at least” the Lord asked his emissary.

“Not just yet. I have left a note for her to meet me at the Rose Church in the western side of Liurnia of the Lakes, she shouldn’t be late. I have no doubt she already had her audience with the Two Fingers at the Roundtable Hold, and has already made up her mind about them and their sincerity.”

At that the demigod burst out laughing, as if he had heard the most hilarious joke in hundreds of years.

“Since my very first day of life, I have never known someone who found those nasty, hairy bags of meat appealing in any kind of way! So I trust she will be of the same opinion as I.”

The white mask faintly smiled at that, imagining how Valyssa would react upon that revolting sight.

“Staying on topic. I can tell that you’re getting fond of her… Isn’t that right?”

The man's cheeks and temples suddenly got a darker pink, the otherwise cold throne room starting to feel warmer and warmer. His low gaze gave away the already obvious answer.

The Lord of Blood’s grin grew wider at the surgeon’s reaction.

“Just as I thought. Well, I have a suggestion for you. Listen closely” the Omen said, leaning down towards Varré’s ear so he could hear him whisper loud and clear.

“If you are so adamant in craving something for yourself, because you believe you truly deserve it… Go ahead and claim it. Take it. It yours to have.”

The sentence itself made the white mask freeze for a moment. He hadn’t thought about… the next steps yet, but now that Lord Mohg had mentioned it… The sudden idea of being so intimate with his beloved, oh-so-strong Tarnished was sending positive responses to his brain and body.

“A-a very wise advice my Lord, but I fear… She might be oblivious still and may need some time before mutual feelings grow solidly within her as well.”

The enormous Omen hummed at his servant’s reasoning, but was not at all preoccupied.

“That doesn’t really matter. I encourage you to take action nonetheless. She’s has all the potential to be a perfect match for you, but you have to assert your right to her first before someone else does.”

Varré immediately nodded at that, his head leaning forward submissively.

“Of course my Lord. My deepest apologies for thinking otherwise.”

“No need. If you’re ever overwhelmed by doubts about pursuing your most profound desires, just remind yourself about dearest Miquella and I.”

Mohg sighed deeply, turning away from the surgeon to take the big withered hand that dangled from the cocoon in his, and peck the ring that adorned it.

“As soon as I brought him home, there hasn’t been a single time where I wasn’t dedicating myself to him and the whole dynasty. And now, thanks to your countless efforts and mine, he’s grown majestically and his awakening is fast approaching. And when the time is ripe, a new era, an era of Blood and Love will begin.”

He then pulled away with a faint frown, letting go of the hand in a reluctant way to face Varré again.

“Everything that I’ve done, was to his sake. So there is no doubt your Tarnished would understand, if you rushed to her aid when she needs you the most. Nobody shies away at the purest forms of love, that are care and comfort.”

The man in the white mask nodded in agreement.

“That is true, my Lord. Even the most primitive creatures instinctively seek for a refuge and the company of their own peers. In regards to the maidenless Tarnished, I will see that she is never to feel loneliness in this world.”

“Good. One more thing, though” the cursed Omen said, his tone suddenly turning more serious than before.

“As you know very well already, like the naïve, uninfluenced Tarnished that she is, she is blindly following the guidance of grace in order to locate the other shardbearers, and strip them of their Great Runes to restore the Elden Ring and become Elden Lord.”

“Of course, oh Luminary. Her next destination would be the Academy of Raya Lucaria, where it is rumored-“

“Yes, yes, but that’s not too relevant” the Omen interrupted him.

“She may travel there, if she wants, and even try to gather all the other Great Runes she earns for. The other demigods aren’t as puny and desperate for power as the late decrepit Godrick, so she might think twice about taking on them” he continued.

“And I trust that your teachings will take root splendidly within her, and show her the real path to the loyalty to the dynasty. So that she will abandon the guidance of the Two Fingers and by that, the desire to rule over the Lands Between as well.”

“But… If she were to find her way underground and reach this place in search of my own Great Rune, or if my precious Miquella’s safety was put at risk…”

The Lord of Blood’s grip on Varré’s shoulders tightened. It was not too unbearable, but it still made the surgeon's eyes widen for a second.

“It is your job to tend to that, with no hesitation, if it were to ever happen. The responsibility is yours, and I believe you don’t need further reminders.”

The man quickly shook his head at that. By then, Lord Mohg released the grip and removed the hand entirely, letting the white mask release the tension in his muscles. A relief.

Though a clawed finger made its way under his chin, gently forcing him to look straight up to his Lord’s horned visage.

“Fret not. There will be one day where you will be rewarded immensely for your hard labor and dedication to the dynasty. The strength and love I promised are not too out reach now, and if all goes well… You may even join that Tarnished in wedlock, if you so please.”

Varré’s gaze brightened up at the Luminary.

“It may be quite early to discuss this my Lord, but I’ll definitely consider the idea. It’s magnificent indeed.”

“Excellent. Well then, you’re free to go. I believe that Tarnished is heading to the Rose Church as we speak. It would be a real pity if you made her wait."

With that, the demigod finally retracted his long digit away from the man's chin.

"Besides, I have left dearest Miquella alone for a while now, I must reunite with him in his slumber. Bless the Mohgwyn dynasty with love, Varré.”

“Bless the Mohgwyn dynasty with love, my Lord” the surgeon replied back, as he bowed again.

His master smirked one last time before swinging his trident. A wave of vibrant blood surrounded his form and he disappeared inside, forming a small pool than slowly slithered inside the cocoon with the withered arm.

The white mask took a deep breath again.

That definitely went better than expected.

He still felt his cheeks burning underneath the marble.

Me? Wedding Valyssa?

He appreciated the Luminary’s invaluable concern and his ever-brilliant idea, but that was only a very distant thought for the moment.

We should focus more now on the initiation trials, and if it is really meant to be then she will succeed. The real challenge for her will be taming the Luminary’s blood…

He sighed one more time.

None of his beloved partners, regardless of their strength, had remained sane after being exposed to the noble blood. Turned in Bloody Fingers, their madness had caused them to lose themselves in the bloodlust.

His chest ached at the painful memories.

But she is different than the rest. I know it. A desperate, hopeful thought.

I doubt she also will attempt at usurping the Lord. She is so much better than that.

He shook his head, biting his lip.

No, that is not going to happen. He will make sure of that.

Plus, she had been so receptive to his words thus far... It’d be such a waste to throw all of that away, just to follow her own ill-advised ambitions.

She can’t be that foolish. And Luminary Mohg has never been wrong about possible love candidates. He is just making sure there are no hindrances when the Mohgwyn dynasty properly commences.

After all, it is the most important priority. Nothing else comes first.

… Though he couldn’t deny that the thought of holding her in his arms, taking in all her warmth as they laid in their own bedroom, was extremely delightful as well.

He found himself daydreaming, before realizing she would arrive at the Rose Church very soon and he had to be on his way himself. What kind of lover invites their paramour to a tryst, and then shows up late?

He chuckled at the thought, and recovered his Pureblood Knight's medal from one of his pouches and activated it; its red trident emblem sending him to the designed destination.

Once he was back in Liurnia, he made sure to reappear behind the crumbling building of the church, so that if she were to be there already she wouldn’t notice him at first glance.

Thankfully though, there was no sign of her yet, nor he could hear someone galloping towards his direction.

Wonderful. Praise the Luminary, he didn’t get lost in his train of thoughts too much to delay his arrival.

The man smiled behind the white mask, and got in position near the entrance to the church.

He only had to be patient and wait for her, now. And he had all the time to fantasize about more future events, as he did.

To Chapter 1

#no g/t for now but it's coming!! #mmmmm i'm so proud of this so far ❤️ #*tags it with the main fandom tags and throws a smoke bomb to flee* #elden ring fic #white mask varre x oc #varre x tarnished #white mask varre #mohg lord of blood #miquella the unalloyed #he's technically there tbh #elden ring writing #my writing #g/t #elden ring

[rriavian]

Lemon balm-- sympathy. "Oh no. We aren't as different as I thought."

For Hobrinthian! :)

I had two different ideas for this but forgot one of them until I'd scrolled through my notes in my phone. Still! I hope you enjoy. This is actually part of a larger fic I'm writing but does (or should) make sense as a standalone. This is also so so rough but I keep staring at it and not changing anything so I need to just post it. This is a new pairing for me and I’m a little nervous but I hope you like it! :)

Lemon balm-- sympathy. "Oh no. We aren't as different as I thought."

-

1689

-

The less said about that year the better. 

But what Hob will say is this. 

The years leading up to that meeting could have been far far different, but even though Hob has been ignoring him since Eleanor died the Corinthian doesn’t let the mob drown him.

Somehow he knows—another instance of that same strange preternatural awareness that has befuddled Hob for centuries—has learned the townsfolks plans in time to thwart them. The result is that the Corinthian storms into his house before they arrive, ignores Hob’s alarmed shout as he drags him from it by a fistful of his hair and shoves him into a carriage waiting nearby. An explanation comes then, stilted, clipped, and then the Corinthian is half climbing inside just as Hob gathers his wits enough to stutter out an almost unintelligible plea for one last memento, the pictures he always carries not enough, there something else he doesn’t want to be lost in that house.

The Corinthian growls.

For a moment Hob fears he won’t listen—something feral in the baring of his teeth, the half snarl so familiar even twisted in anger—the golden blond of his hair turned white by the light of the moon. It glances off the lenses of the glasses too, refracts, turns them into eyes that gleam in the dark like a silver mirror of Hob’s Stranger. Then the Corinthian turns away, shoves backwards from the carriage as if needing to release tension, storms back to the house, returns far quicker than Hob thought he would. A small box is tossed his way with a sneer, an expression that remains as the Corinthian sits down opposite him without saying a single word.

Instead he raps sharply on the wood to signal they are ready to depart.

The sudden lurch into jolting movements is not so destabilising as this, as sitting opposite this unchanged creature Hob has known for two hundred years and trying not to shudder under his glare.

For a long time Hob doesn’t dare speak, has to adjust to this first, to the weight of whatever the Corinthian really is rearing out of the luring guise he wears. There is no sensual smirk obscuring it, no seduction here; Hob thinks that seething anger has never been so well communicated as in this stillness, as in how he’s being watched like prey to be culled instead of kept. It’s silence laying like a shroud, an imposition of the Corinthian’s will, but as Hob adjusts to it he thinks that, unlike the Stranger, this quiet is not quite in his gift.

It’s effective but it isn’t quite so natural.

And Hob still has time for jokes.

“Thanks for not letting me die.” He says wryly; hesitates, wonders if that sounded too glib, thinks of the box clutched in his hands and adds. “I would have been fine you know.”

“Be grateful they did not plan to try and burn you,” The Corinthian says softly; the first words he’s spoken since that curt explanation, both a stinging rebuke and an odd sort of rapture in his rolling tone, an almost longing in the picture he paints with words. “I may have been tempted to allow that.”

Hob can’t help but shudder at the very thought. 

Then he opens his mouth to reply and is immediately cut off.

“Sulking for eighty odd years like a fool. Crumbling after barely three hundred years of life. You’d have deserved it if they had.” The Corinthian continues viciously, disgusted, repulsed as if he considers Hob’s admittedly pathetic state contagious. “I could have left you to die, to resurrect with the lesson still choking your lungs, allowed you to continue this pathetic cycle until you finally broke. But—“

This time the stillness makes Hob shiver.

The Corinthian’s expression is unreadable in a different way than usual.

There is an almost softness in the lines of his face, lurking in the corners of his mouth, an almost pain. Hob remembers that the Corinthian had known Eleanor too, remembers two hundred years of encounters, of being shoved down onto a bed and held there. Sometimes Hob had been the one doing the shoving. He remembers the Stranger’s question in 1589, his affront at not being asked for permission, how the Corinthian had come to him slyly that evening and laughed when Hob had glared at him because why didn’t you warn me.

“But?” Hob asks.

The expression begins to sour, some of the almost softness fading from view.

“You are his too.”

A scowl. 

“So start acting like it.”

#the corinthian #the sandman #Hob Gadling #hobrinthian #my writing #fic progress

[legzakimmbo]

October & The Visit - Gainesgoe Fic part 2 and 3

A tree with no leaves in the autumn.

When you’re walking by and you see a tree out of the corner of your eye, you don’t tend to acknowledge it. Walk into a tree, you acknowledge its presence but you swiftly resort to cursing it out. Some people who like trees may stop to admire it for a moment, especially if it's their favorite genus.

Ross encountered a tree that caught his attention on multiple occasions. It was quite a calloused tree. Brusque, even. Despite its sharp, vindictive surface, he still wanted to run his hands down its vitriolic trunk, feeling every curve and crevice that it had. He wanted to know the tree inside and out. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to have the tree in his empty, fruitless garden so, in the fullness of time, he would be satisfied.

Initially, he never would have gone for such an abrasive tree.

In fact, he probably would have never been interested in any tree until he crossed paths with this one. Especially not one with rough edges or tattoos, or even…

“Are we still talking about trees, pet?”

He looked up at the reverend, shaking his head and tracing his thumb across his other hand. “No. I don’t think we are.”

“Thank the Lord. As if my day hasn’t been enough of a clusterfuck, I just thought you were just some nutter who wants to have sex with a stump.”

“Don’t think that’d be very pleasant,” Ross muttered in more of a ribbing tone. Bernice would let out a chuckle in response, standing up from the pew and lifting the small glass of sherry off of the poorly balanced Bible.

“Well, I can’t blame you, dearie. Majority of the lookers in Royston Vasey are cunts, but you best hurry up and get with one of them. You can at least try to change them, but you’ll never be able to change an inbred monkey who wipes their shit on the walls.”

Ross would actually consider this vulgar advice with a hum. He stood up and flung his khaki jacket over his arm, finalizing his decision. “Yeah. Cheers, Reverend.”

And with that, he bid his farewell and pushed himself through the rustic church doors.

Her advice wasn’t the most professional, he was aware of that. But for some strange reason, it somewhat made sense. As he walked, he took the time to slip his jacket back on, initially intending on just walking back home. But almost as if he was enticed by it, he took a different route. One slightly more rural and less riddled with maniacs. Autumn did a fine job at filling the silence with the sound of wind in his ears and dead leaves succumbing to his merciless step. Ross took his time, grazing over each and every tree that lined the old boulevard with a newfound interest.

With each tree he passed by, his walking speed decreased, until he drew to a halt, biting the inside of his lip for only a brief amount of time before he took action. He drew his phone out of his pocket and continued his journey home, holding the phone up to his ear once he had dialed a specific number.

A few seconds passed.

“...Hello? Yes, hi, I was wondering if I could take out a loan..Yes. 100 pounds. Actually, best make it 200.”

—----------------

Ross anticipated this day.

Matter of fact, he positioned himself on the sofa closest to the door, eyes aimlessly running over the outrageous articles splayed across the damp paper. Each headline meant nothing to him, for all he thought about in his head was how he was going to carry out the remainder of his petty little plan. Two hundred pounds would surely be enough to summon him after a couple of days. While it was a more merciful amount compared to the 2,000 the bar owner foolishly took out, he actually considered going all the way and taking a loan of ten grand. Of course, he didn’t fall through with this ; he only wanted to be paid a visit. Not to be murdered on his doorstep.

Settling with 200 might have been a good idea. He wasn’t quite certain.

About an hour or two passed, and the clock was just ticking over 4:32pm. By this point, Ross decided to save himself from the crippling boredom and actually get some leftover work done.

But as his pen hovered over the previously empty slate of paper, there came the graceless knock on the door, and almost immediately, Ross pushed himself off the sofa, flattening any creases on his dressing gown and pressing the mic down. “Doorbell works, you know.”

“Ohh! I didn’t notice that there! Fancy that!”

If there was one thing the brunette realised, it was that voice did not belong to Mr Lisgoe.

It was shrill. Perhaps a little bit annoying to listen to. It had a particular tone that you would expect from a dunce in a film. Ross, fairly disappointed, took a moment to actually look into the camera, being met with a large, simple looking man. Behind him stood someone who was more lanky in frame, and possibly just at least a bit more intimidating than the fat one. But that was hardly an achievement.

No. Neither of them could have been Lisgoe. Or so he hoped. Maybe his drunk thoughts deceived him.

Regardless, he buzzed them in, but only peeked his body out of the door a little. Once he arrived outside, the man, already breathless, began to rummage through his pocket before drawing out a crumpled piece of paper.

“All right! Says here you owe about 200 quid, so if you could-”

“Sorry, who said that?”

The two looked at each other in confusion. Ross’ tone of voice remained monotonous, whilst finally, the lanky one spoke up himself.

“Look mate, we’re not playing about. It’s been days, and really, someone with such a lovely apartment should be paying up quickly.”

Ross shook his head, closing the door a little bit more to stop either of them from trying to get any more prying glances into his private domicile. “If this was so important, I don’t see why they would send tweedle dee and tweedle dum to my door. How do I know that you’re both real loan sharks, and not trying to con me?”

“Ah-ah! Debt collectors. We don’t like the name loan shark, do we, Glenn?”

“Frankly, I don’t care what you prefer. I think you’re wasting my time.”

“We’re not-”

“I’m closing the door now.”

“Wait!”

The larger one used his weight to keep it open, which almost baffled Ross a bit. He was very close to just paying them so they could leave him alone.

“Barry, leave it mate, he might not-”

“What will it take!?”

Barry and Glenn were now both just staring at the brunette with earnest appeal. Uncomfortably, he adjusted his glasses and folded his arms, now leaning against the frame of his door. “I want you both to bugger off and send your boss.”

They exchanged a nervous glance. “No, I don’t think you’d want-”

“Cheers, bye!”

Following his farewell, Ross managed to force the door shut, locking it and smiling audaciously before returning to the sofa.

As predicted, it didn’t take long before the brunette was greeted with a much harsher knock, but it failed to waver his decision as he made his way back to the door. He was certain who it was, and so just buzzed him in without any need for introductions.

The familiar, unimpressed face of Mr Lisgoe was in fact at the door ; it was safe to say he wasn’t in his best mood. He had one arm leaning against the door, and the other positioned on his hip. The hand in his pocket tucked his jacket out of the way, so Ross could see (and possibly appreciate) his figure more clearly.

“I’m starting to think you’re just taking the piss out of me now,” Lisgoe spat.

“Sorry you feel that way.”

“A few drinks and a walk outside doesn’t mean you can take out 200 quid from my pocket and tell my men to bugger off. Do I look like your fucking sugar daddy?”

His husky, gravelling tone of voice accentuated by his thick Northern accent echoed throughout the brunette’s apartment, but like always, he did not waver one bit.

“You know, I never took you for an idiot, Lisgoe. Not until now.”

“You fucking what?”

“I haven’t spent a dime. I don’t need it.”

Lisgoe scrunched his brow in confusion, rendered speechless by the logic he was hearing. Meanwhile Ross would walk back into his apartment, leaving the door open enough to be considered an invitation inside. However, the debt collector didn’t falter from his position. Rather, he stood waiting, allowing his eyes to glaze over the portion of the flat he could see from his perspective. It was very suave. The cool undertones of the walls perfectly reflected the part of Ross’ personality he actually admired the most.

He really needed to stop thinking of him in that way.

The brunette shortly returned with a stack of money, leaning against the frame once again with that same irritating, monotone look. “Don’t get me wrong, I could do with two hundred quid. Everyone could. But actually, I just wanted to talk. To you. Sober.”

These words had Lisgoe thinking, as if you could actually see the cogs turning in his mind. Once it had processed, an unsure, coarse chuckle was what broke the silence.

“Are you having a laugh?”

Course he wasn’t. It didn’t take a lot of mind to see that Ross was dead serious, and so was the expression on his face. As this realisation came to be, Joseph’s laugh swiftly reduced down to a humoured smirk. “Wow. Shit, you really aren’t pulling my leg. Well,”

He followed these words by forcefully pulling the money back into his own hands, holding it up for Ross to see again. “This is not your plaything, Gaines. You don’t get to take it whenever you please.”

“Maybe if it was easier to talk to you, I wouldn’t have had to do that.”

“Why do you want to know me so fucking bad?”

“Same reason you want to know me.”

There was an uncomfortable pause.

Lisgoe shook his head slowly, letting out a deep huff before fumbling in his pocket. Out he drew a pen. Ross noted this, and went to step indoors. “I can grab you some pape-”

“No need.”

He used his free hand to grab Ross’ jaw quite abruptly. Ross quickly tensed up, and his hand raised, but only to hold onto Lisgoe’s wrist, putting up almost no fight in response. However, instead of going for the option Ross desired deep down, he began to scribble down something quickly across the skin of his neck. The pressure of the tip lightly dug into his jugular, but not enough to cause much harm. Soon after, Lisgoe let go, stuffing the pen back into his pocket. “You want to know me so bad? Start with that.”

If Ross denied not receiving a small sensation from that moment, he would have been lying.

Yet again, there was no goodbye.

Once Ross shut the door, he made his way over to the mirror so he could actually get a sense of what was written : the initials ‘JNL’ and a phone number.

What a character.

-------——––----—-—

Still can't comment or reply but thank you so much for the support on my last gainesgoe fic mwah LUV YALL hope u like this one

#their tension makes me crazy #reece shearsmith #gainesgoe #joseph lisgoe #ross gaines #the league of gentlemen #the league of gents #gainsgoe #fanfic #gainesgoe fanfic

[thisismysecondrodeo]

new au idea, maybe? jk. no, i'm not. yes i am. unless...

AN: Wrote this directly in response so please forgive any typos!

Rating: Teen

Tags: RPF, AFAB!reader, One-Shot, implied sex, fluff

Fic masterlist

“Dude what the hell happened last night, you totally bailed. We were supposed to get drinks to celebrate your new job and I didn’t hear from you at all!”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, you’re right,” you spoke softly into your phone, sliding out of your bed to continue the conversation. You started a pot of coffee and yawned. “Well…long story short, I didn’t get the job.”

“What?! You were a shoo-in! Explain.”

So you did.

-

You hadn’t planned on needing a new nanny-ing gig—you adored the family you worked with—but they had decided to move to Montana of all places and you just couldn’t leave New York. They were rather attached to you too but completely understood, and mentioned they might have a referral for you: a friend of theirs who had recently gotten divorced and had primary custody of his two kids. You asked them to pass along your info, you really needed the work after all, and you and the dad connected by email and then by phone.

You had told your friend Lauren about him since she had been helping you look for new jobs and she seemed to think there was something a little flirty about you and your potential boss, Jason Sudeikis.

“I mean this is kind of a long interview process…”

“They’re his kids. He’s just being thorough.”

“Okay, but I’ve also never seen you laugh so much at an email.”

“What?! Okay, so he’s charming, how is that a bad thing?”

It only got worse once she looked him up on LinkedIn and saw that he was certified DILF. You would never admit it to her, but you had to agree.

After a few conversations, a peek at your references, and some scheduling mishap you were finally set to meet him and the kids in person, to make sure it was a fit. It was the last hurdle between you and a new gig, and despite Lauren’s suggestion, it had been nothing but professional so far.

You got there and truly had a wonderful time. Jason was just as charming in person, the kids were friendly and talkative but polite, and as you left the older kid asked when they would see you again which felt like a good sign. Everything seemed to fall into place. The little voice in the back of your head may have called you out on how often you caught the dad’s eye, how he seemed to smile a little brighter when he caught you looking. And maybe you had gravitated a little too close, told a few too many jokes that were more for dad than the kids but he had laughed and so had you. Maybe it would work out.

-

“Dude, I don’t understand.” Lauren interrupted your story and you took that moment to doctor your cup of coffee up with cream and sugar. “How did you not get the job after all that?”

“Well, let me finish! So…”

-

You had only been home an hour or so when you got a call.

“Hello?”

“Hey this is, uh, Mr. Sudeikis. I was calling to talk to you about the nanny job.”

“Oh sure! I had a great time today.”

“Yeah we did too,” he said a little sadly and your gut immediately fell. “I hate to say this because obviously you’ve got great references, and you’re kind of everything I’d been looking for, but I can’t offer you the job.”

“Oh,” you couldn’t hide the surprise in your tone. “Can I ask why not?”

“Of course, it turns out there’s a, well, a conflict of interest.”

“I see.” You wanted to push further, find out more, but you were already a little sad about it so you decided to just accept it and not take it personally. “Well, if you know anyone else looking for a nanny, please send them my way.”

“Absolutely, thanks again Y/N.”

You took the phone away from your ear about to text Lauren to change celebratory drinks to consolation drinks when your phone rang again, same number.

“Uh, hello?”

“Hi, Y/N? This is Jason.”

He said it as if the two of you hadn’t literally just spoken. “Jason, as in Jason Sudeikis?”

“Yep, that’d be the one. Listen, I was calling to ask if you’d like to go to dinner with me.” He said it incredibly seriously and you couldn’t help but laugh. He was doing a bit.

“What? Why?”

“Well, like I said earlier, you’re kind of everything I’ve been looking for.”

You couldn’t help but blush. “So the coonflict of interest…?”

“Was me being interested in you. No pressure though, I meant it when I said I’d refer you to some other people, regardless of if you'd like to go to dinner with me. Unfortunately this job won't work out because I am just…very into you.”

You paused, and thought about it, but couldn’t deny that the chance to potentially build something with Jason was more exciting than the job opportunity.

“Well then..yeah, I’m free for dinner.”

“Great. And, uh, if you happen to know any nannies that are just as good with kids as you are but significantly less attractive… And less funny... And maybe a little dumber to be honest with you, I would appreciate it.”

You laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

-

“Okay, very hot, very fun and flirty, thrilled for you!! But what happened between your dinner date and our drinks, we still could have….ohhhh my god you slept with him! You bagged the DILF?!”

You were laughing at Lauren’s surprise when you heard your sheets rustling in your bedroom. You got down a mug and poured a second cup of coffee.

“Hey, I gotta go, we’ll talk about this later I swear. We will go get drinks tonight. Promise, promise, promise.”

“Okay but you owe me details!”

You agreed and hung up before taking both mugs into the bedroom. Jason grinned at you, his tousled bedhead making you giggle. You sat your coffee on the nightstand and offered him his, which he accepted with his left hand while using his right hand to tug you on top of him by the waist.

“‘Mornin, sweetheart.”

“Mmm, morning,” you responded with a kiss, fully straddling his lap and tucking your arms around his bare chest. “How long have you been awake?”

“Long enough to hear you bagged the DILF, way to go.” He smirked at you, taking a sip of his coffee before sitting it down and holding up his hand for a high-five. Even though you were absolutely mortified, you high-fived him anyway and laughed into the crook of his neck.

#jason sudeikis #jason sudeikis fanfic #jason sudeikis x reader #jason sudeikis x yn #jason sudeikis fic #jason sudeikis reader insert #jason sudeikis fan fic #jason sudeikis fan

[lyriumlullaby-ao3]

“He’s Changed You” 🩵

an excerpt from my unpublished long fic 🩷 i was inspired to post this ficlet by this post today, so i hope you like it!

for context, i’m working with a world state where Alistair is King, and Warden Cousland married him and became Queen. through a lot of set up (and magical intervention) they were eventually able to have a pair of twins, despite the taint. mc here is Inquisitor Miri Lavellan :)

——————————————————————————

Snatching a sandwich from a platter laid out in the hall by the kitchen staff, Miri ate it as she wandered through the gardens and took a seat on the steps of the gazebo. Her thoughts drifted through the planned journey into Ferelden she and a handful of her companions were to take in a few days, after the King’s departure. Miri was beginning to worry there wouldn’t be enough time to complete all the tasks her companions had asked of her—some of them were certainly more pressing than others, but she could tell how much each of them mattered to her friends, and didn’t want to delay attending to any of them, really.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice reaching her ears from behind a shrub that concealed Miri from view for anyone standing in that half of the garden. “That’s him?” the voice gasped, sounding rather breathless. “I thought he’d look… I dunno, more demonic. Tentacles and fiery breath.” King Alistair. Who was he talking to?

“He is a normal boy, Alistair,” came the irritated reply. Miri knew that voice, but couldn’t quite place it… She knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but if she got up now, they’d know she was there, that she’d been listening. Better just to stay put and try not to listen. Right?

“Uh-huh,” the King answered. “And what does he know of… how he was made?” He sounded… shocked. Miri had never known the man to be so inarticulate. What in the Void were they talking about…?

“He knows his father was… a good man. I… I thought you deserved that much,” the woman answered. Miri’s mouth fell open as understanding came over her. The voice belonged to Lady Morrigan. And they were talking about Morrigan’s son, the King’s son, the boy she’d seen with Alistair from the battlements crossing the bridge with his mother earlier this morning! Dirthamen ash halani, she really needed to stay hidden now…

The King chuckled, then sighed wistfully. “He’s changed you.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Morrigan countered. Miri could hear the scowl in her voice.

The King’s laugh was stronger now, warmer. “There’s no need to be so defensive! I just mean… I know the twins have changed me. Elissa, too. Everything changes, once there’s a child depending on you for everything…”

Morrigan hummed in agreement as he trailed off, then after a moment, she asked, “Is it everything you thought it would be? Being a father?”

“Not at all,” Alistair replied. That wistful note was back in his voice now. “It’s so much harder than I ever could have imagined. I… I’m terrified I’ll mess it all up. Everyone always said that was all I was ever good for. I thought being king would be frightening…” He chuckled ruefully, then continued, “I had no idea. Still, I wouldn’t trade them for anything. It’s harder than I thought, but it’s… it’s better than I ever hoped.” His voice caught on the last word, and he cleared his throat, sniffing slightly.

Morrigan sighed. “You aren’t going to ‘mess it all up,’ Alistair,” she murmured.

“What?” the King laughed. “You mean to tell me you, of all people, think I might do alright at something for once? Alright, who are you and what have you done with that horrible witch I once saved Ferelden with?”

There was a loud thwack of flesh striking flesh and the King laughed harder. “If you tell anyone I said so, I will deny it,” Morrigan hissed. “But… you have a good heart, Alistair. You do not give love by half-measures. It may be the only thing you are good at,” she continued, softer now, a playful smirk evident in her tone. Her words carried a certain brusque affection, though Miri was certain she must be wearing a twisted expression that would send most people running in fear. She sighed, then finished, “Besides, your children plainly adore you. I can think of nothing you are better suited to than fatherhood.”

“He has changed you,” Alistair repeated softly after a moment’s pause. Then, when Morrigan didn’t answer, he asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to tell him?”

Morrigan tsked disapprovingly. “If I wasn’t certain I never wanted to tell him before I knew you would survive your encounter with the Archdemon, I most assuredly am now that you have taken the throne. What good would it do to tell him now, hm?”

“I suppose you’re right,” the King murmured. Then, after another small pause, “He’s a fine boy, Morrigan. You should be very proud.”

“Thank you, Alistair,” she intoned, almost warmly. After a moment or two, Miri heard the soft sound of retreating footsteps, and knew the King was gone.

#dragon age #dragon age fanfiction #da fanfic #ficlet #dragon age inquisition #dai #alistair theirin #morrigan dragon age #kieran dragon age #inquisitor lavellan #alistair is a GOOD DAD okay #and morrigan is a way better mother than flemeth was 💖

[inarizakismanagers]

A/N: hey guys sorry for not posting in like forever, I do plan on writing more for this fic but releases will be slow. I may start writing some smaller drabbles and one shots more often, so feel free to message me for requests or leave them in the ask me section :))

Chapter 5

You woke with a pounding headache from the previous day's sex and alcohol induced coma, all of your decisions from the night before had hit you like a truck and now you had to mend the destruction they left in their wake.

The argument with your boyfriend, Yuji, would be particularly unpleasant to deal with however you knew the longer you left it the angrier he would become. His pride and ego had been hurt last night and he had been embarrassed in front of other people, a feeling of dread begins to pool in your stomach at the thought of his reaction. You had had first hand experience with your boyfriend's wrath all too often and it was not something you were looking forward to having to face.

You sat there contemplating your options, on the one hand you could get up and leave the stranger's apartment - Suna’s apartment to go deal with Yuji or you could avoid him today altogether. 

The thought of leaving him, breaking up with him had occurred to you many times but never as much as right now. There was no way you were going to go back to him in that relationship but at the same time the thought of attempting to break up with Yuji instilled terror in you. You couldn’t imagine how he would react or what he would do to you if you tried to break it off with him.

You settled on avoiding thinking about the subject, for now at least,you shifted your weight on the plush mattress turning to face Suna. You thought about the night you had spent with him, your cheeks dusting in pink feeling suddenly slightly self conscious at the thought.

Right now you were staring at dilemma number two, you didn't know what to do in this situation. You had gone home with Suna that night but you had no idea if you should’ve left already, you hadn't had many one night stands and the ones you did have the guy ended up leaving before you had woken up in the morning.

Not wanting to overstay your welcome and suddenly feeling in desperate need of a warm shower and change of clothes, you began to move to sit up and grab your clothes from the floor.

“Where are you going?” you heard a sleepy voice ask, you turned to face Suna heat rushing to your cheeks as you took in his form, his hair was a slightly tousled brown mop on his head, half lidded deep brown eyes watching you take him in. Your eyes dropped lower to his perfectly toned body and snake tattoo, for the love of mercy it was enough to make you wanna bash your head against a wall, why was he so freaking fine.

“You like what you see, darling” at that you snap your head back lowering it slightly in embarrassment, of course he caught you eye fucking him. “I’m going home, I need to shower and I have a lot of work to get done” you reply to his earlier question continuing to grab your stuff from the floor where it had been haphazardly thrown the night before. “Just shower here and let me make you some food, you haven’t eaten since yesterday it's nearly 4pm” he says checking his watch his tone is firm leaving no room for argument.

You’re slightly taken aback by his concern, but nod your head all the same when he raises an eyebrow in question challenging you to refuse.

“What would you like to eat?”

It was strange for Suna to wake up this morning, arms wrapped around your still sleeping, naked form. He wasn’t complaining though, he had only been able to fantasise for so long about having you in his bed, arms around you, kissing your lips. Now he’s got you where he’s only been able to dream of having you and he doesn’t make a single move to wake you. Too scared that when you wake up he’ll lose this perfect moment. Eventually, he feels you stir and closes his eyes, maybe if he pretends to sleep you’ll lull off too. You turn to face him, he feels your breath fan out on him and it takes everything in him to not wrap and arm around your hips another around the back of your head and kiss you.

Much to his horror you begin to get up and get dressed, why are you leaving? He thought the two of you had had a good night, he wanted to make you something to eat in hopes he could ask you on a date, a proper date because you deserved to be taken out and courted properly.

The other night he had been over excited at the thought of having you in his bed that he had abandoned his plan of asking you out on a date first. But he would do it right from now on, not just take you home after a night out.

He had convinced you to stay and shower and have food, he offered you a t-shirt, a pair of boxers and some joggers of his to wear as the only clothes you had to go home in was the skimpy dress you wore clubbing and torn up knickers. Of course when you put them on he saw that you were swimming in them, the clothes clearly being a couple sizes too big for you, nonetheless he felt a pang in his chest at the sight of you in his clothes. Something about seeing you in them just felt right to him.

He had made sure to cook whilst you had been showering, making two bowls of spicy beef ramen, setting the table. Normally, he’d have a maid prepare all of this but he felt a sense of contentment in being the one to take care of you.

Feelings like those were scarce in his line of work, so when they came you had to grab a hold of them and protect them at all cost. He thought more about how you would react when you found out what exactly it was that he did, as far as you were concerned he owned a nightclub that's it. Maybe that's all you needed to know at least for now, he was scared that you’d run if he told you, you were sweet and so pure with an easy going air that put people at ease. He, on the other hand, radiated an unapproachable, harsh demeanour that had people averting their gaze in fear when he looked at them.

The more he thought about it the more ridiculous he felt for thinking that you would want to be with him, however, he was nothing if not persistent and he had already decided you would be his even if he had to wait for you to realise it too.

#hq fanfic #hq smut #suna imagines #suna rintaro #suna fanfic #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu mafia au #inarizakhi mafia au #inarizaki #domestic bliss #domestic sunarin

[thealterscrolls]

WIP WEDNESDAY BUT IT’S A FRIDAY

many a wednesday has passed since @wispstalk tagged me to do this and i’m finally getting around and remembering to doing this! here’s a segment from the Raining Stars draft, my hero of kvatch/martin fic! snippet is from the perspective of ambrosius rex. ambrosius has DID (unaware) and dissociates in this snippet. i know i’ve shared this one in places before but i’ve changed it up a fair bit since then. also i really like it so idc

i honestly don’t know who’s all actively writing stuff at the moment so i’m not going to tag anyone specifically. boring i know. sorry. consider this post a tag and tag me if you share a wip because i want to read them!

without further ado, the wip:

Jauffre leans away from me, attempting to stand on his own. “We don’t really have time to talk. We must get Martin somewhere safe.”

Martin turns to him. “Who might you be?”

I quickly speak for him. “This is Jauffre, grandmaster of the Blades.”

“Jauffre,” Martin repeats to himself quietly, pausing to think for a moment. “I’ve seen you before. I know your face.”

Jauffre sighs. “I travel a lot in my line of work.”

Martin visibly scrutinizes him but says nothing.

“Jauffre’s right,” I interject. “We have to go.”

Before any of us can say more, Savlian strides up beside me and claps a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure Ambrosius here told you the good news, brother Martin, that the gate is closed, but I doubt he mentioned that it’s all thanks to him. You should have seen him. Man fought like a beast!”

“Oh, did he now,” Jauffre asks.

I don’t know if he doubts it or if he’s impressed by that question. I can’t find it in myself to say anything.

“Ambrosius practically slaughtered all those daedra on his own,” Savlian continues. “We simply followed.”

“Last night I would have found that hard to believe, but today—” Jauffre doesn’t finish the thought.

“I saw him with my own two eyes and could scarcely believe it. I wasn’t sure who I was more terrified of: him or the daedra!”

All I can do is nod along with him. I feel strange. Exhausted. Empty. A bit uneasy in my stomach. As much as I want to hear Savlian’s story of what I can’t remember, I can hardly pay attention to what anyone is saying. I’m not sure I want to hear it anymore either.

Before I get lost in myself any further, I politely excuse myself from the conversation. Martin offers an arm to Jauffre who in turn acquiesces and takes it. I wander away a distance, sitting down in a pew to catch my breath. My body sinks down heavily against the stone.

I’m not sure how long I sit there, fading in and out of focus. After a while, someone sits down a space over from me.

Martin speaks. “Savlian and his men are taking back the rest of the city. They figured you deserved a chance to rest.”

“Where’s Jauffre?”

“Oleta is seeing to him. She’s the healer here. One of the best in Cyrodiil.”

I lift an eyebrow. “However did you manage a thing like that?”

“Well it wasn’t easy,” he laughs. “Oleta was stern with him, and I might have told him I wouldn’t leave otherwise.”

“I’m surprised you got that to work.”

He shifts in the pew, taking a breath. “I don’t savor the idea, but I imagine it has something to do with being the only heir. Allegedly, that is.” His tone sounds lighthearted but if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear there’s a weight to it as well.

I snort softly in acknowledgment. There isn’t much I can say to that. I’m hardly one to pretend to understand the complexities of such a situation.

“Well, anyhow,” Martin continues. “Tierra plans to escort the townspeople to the camp outside the city, but we have to make sure everyone’s ready and safe to move, including Jauffre.”

“That makes sense.”

We sit in silence for a moment. Then he turns towards me slightly. “Are you doing okay?”

No. “I’m fine.”

He may as well have scoffed. “Nobody is fine. Not when the daedra are slaughtering our people and it feels as if the world is coming to an end. I know things are wrong, so you’re not sparing me from anything by pretending otherwise.”

He doesn’t know what’s wrong, not completely. I nod my head anyway. “Alright then, I’m not fine. But forgive me if I don't explain further. I’ve got nothing to do with the gods so I don’t think I’d find a priest’s words very comforting.”

Martin takes a breath and looks away, appearing visibly shamed. His voice is quieter than before. “No, forgive me. It wasn’t my intentions to preach at you. If it’s any consolation, I had no such ‘priestly’ words to offer. Truth be told, I’m having trouble with my own faith now.” He pauses, and almost laughs out his next sentence. “And something tells me I won’t be a priest anymore after this anyway.”

“Not sure that makes me feel any better either,” I say, slightly bemused.

“Didn’t think so,” he snorts softly. “But I prayed—I hoped for deliverance. And it came. So that’s comfort enough for me. I don’t think I can thank the gods quite yet, but I can thank you.”

Saying “you’re welcome” doesn’t seem an appropriate response, so I nod my head again. I turn my head towards the people huddled in the chapel, towards the living and the dead. Few among them appear hopeful. The rest are scared, perhaps not of the Gate or the daedra anymore, but rather, of the future and the uncertainty of it all. I can’t take credit for saving any of them.

I wonder how many of them are experiencing such a thing for the first time in their lives. Is this their first crisis? Perhaps their second? Maybe all their problems had been small, which is not to say they were any less painful. Of all the crises I went through, none of them had ever reached this scale. None threatened all of Tamriel. Maybe it’s a first for all of us.

“I haven’t saved anyone,” I whisper. “I didn’t stop anything. Their lives are forever ruined and I can’t help them. I’ve placed a sackcloth scrap on a severed limb.”

Martin shakes his head. “There are times when stopping the bleeding is all you can do.” He almost doesn’t sound convinced of his words himself when he says it.

I want to tell him that’s not so. I want to say that’s more than what I’ve done. I want to say many things. I know I could keep arguing with him, but it would all be futile. Nothing comes out. My eyelids fill with heavy moisture and my mind feels far away again.

I’ve been bleeding my whole life.

#oc: ambrosius rex #fic: raining stars #tag game #wip wednesday #my wips #tes iv: oblivion #tes #martin septim x hok #tas caspian

[nocturnalghoul]

Mushy May Day 7: Dinner and a Movie/ Compliments

Okay I know I said I was skipping day 7, but random inspiration hit me so I wrote this short little piece. It’s my Mushy May fic and I get to make one about one of my ghoul OCs if I want to! If that's not something your into I totally get it and I'll catch you on the next ficlet for Day 8 and some Zephtain content

Tempest (nameless ghoul OC) tries her best to boost Aether’s ego before he leaves for a date night with Swiss and Dew. Compliment’s hit a little harder when the person giving them literally cannot lie.

words: 525

Rating: T

Read below the cut or on AO3 here

“You look splendid, stella cadente” the ghoulette chirps, attempting once again to calm Aether’s nerves. “I’m sure the others will be completely taken by your charm during your little dinner or whatever it is.”

Aether looks down at the way the shirt pulls tight against his pecs everytime he moves, still convinced he should change. “I still just feel like you are only saying that so you can get back to the library” he mumbles, once again pulling on the restrictive sleeves. 

He sees the way that Tempest raises a singular eyebrow at him, along with the piercing stare and immediately realizes how stupid that was to say. “Sorry, forgot about the whole can’t lie thing” he continues. 

The ghoulette sighs, hopping off the bathroom counter they were perched upon. “To be fair I do want to go back to the library, but this is more important. I gotta make sure that my favorite band ghoul feels good about themselves before their date.” 

Aether watches as she shuffles her way over before firmly grasping his bicep to spin him around towards the large mirror. Immediately he starts to find little flaws with his outfit but the kind smile on the ghoulette face is somewhat reassuring. 

“Alrighty then, tell me what you think is wrong so we can put this all to bed and get ya on the way” she demands, but there's a warmth to their tone that he deeply appreciates. 

“The entire ensemble feels a little tight”

“It highlight’s your wonderful assets, Dew and Swiss are going to go crazy for it. Besides, this seems like more than the outfit, try again”

“What if they don’t like what I have planned?”

“You are the sweetest and most caring ghoul I have ever met, stella cadente. I know for a fact whatever you planned for them you put so much time and love into. You are sweet, handsome, worthy of so much love, and every person you shine your presence onto is forever bettered by the light. The fact that it was you planning it means that those two will adore it.” they assure him, punctuating the praise with a kiss to the cheek and a pat on the back.

“Thanks Tempest, it means a lot. I think I’m ready to get going now.”

“Anytime dear, do you want a prophecy before ya go? Maybe it’ll bring a little extra luck.” 

Aether nods his head enthusiastically. He knows the way that the ghoulette normally hates sharing prophecies so to offer one in order to make him feel better almost means more than the compliments. 

He watches as her left eye begins to glow ever so slightly before her mouth opens, the telltale voice like a cool breeze pouring out. With the addition of a motion picture to your dinner, you will surely find yourself entangled with the flesh of another sinner.

The ghoulette bursts into laughter, slapping Aether on the arm. “Okay it was worth it for a fun one like that. You kids have fun and tell Dew I like his tramp stamp” she giggles before walking away, leaving Aether blushing in the bathroom.

stella cadente = shooting star

#truth be told 💙 #mushy may #nocturnal mushy may #nameless ghoul oc #Tempest (nameless ghoul oc) #nocturnal writings

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"Through All Travels, You'll Always Be In My Heart"

. . . Content Desc

i was already planning on writing a kazuha fic before the archipelago but MAN did the event only make me wanna write about him more. I LOVE KAZUHA SO FUCKING MUCH OH MY GOD@!$!$!@ . . . LOADING . . . ᶻz Kazuha x Reader \\ laying in kazuha's lap as he tells you stories ｡⌇this is a . . . fluff !! (i swear i have ideas for things other than fluff) ♯ TW + info : NO TW , , y/n technically is traveler in this but not one of the twins, so when kazuha says traveler its the equivalent of y/n~ other than that this is quite a short and sweet fic. ily kazuha will continue maining you to the end of time !! AND OFC ILY READER<3 make sure to drink water and have a nice meal !! WORD COUNT : 1276

"You'd like to hear a story traveler?" He gives you a slight smile, "Well, I don't see why not."

The fresh breeze which gave your body temperature a perfect sense of balance with the already fairly warm weather simply made the situation even more perfect. You were laying in the lap of your darling sweetheart Kazuha, your head resting on his leg, you two begin simply enjoying the moment the two of you had together. When the world had no worries or stresses to offer you, taking the time to just embrace each other's presence and whatever you two had to say was a lovely way to spend your time. Knowing the many places Kazuha had travelled to, there is never a dull moment when he tells you a story. Though as catastrophic as the story may be, he still remains telling it in the same soothing voice as always, never seeming to break from it to change his tone. He might even laugh slightly when recounting those slip ups. Knowing this, you proceed to ask,

"Kazuha, do you think you'll ever run out of stories to tell? I've heard so many from you that it seems like there's a never ending list of things you've done." Your lover then smiles in response, knowing he'd probably be asked that at some point. A bandaged hand then begins to stroke through your hair ever so gently,

"Well Traveler, I'd say... for as long as time passes, it seems every little thing we do can become a story. So technically, it is a never ending list of long stories, short stories, just about any kind. I could tell you a story that lasts for hours on end, or sum one up in a short haiku." He takes in a deep breath, taking in the fresh air once more, "I think, this very moment here gives me a lovely idea for a story from my travels."

You proceed to get in an even more comfortable position in the samurai's lap. Potentially expecting the story to be able to lull you to sleep by the end. He then begins,

"Quite some time ago, I remember feeling like at some point I'd run out of places to see. I thought that at some point, I'd see all this world has to offer and I'd have to settle at some spot, not being able to enjoy the same experiences or places again as I once had. I simply felt as though each adventure was like the first time reading a book almost. You'd pick it up, read it, just as all stories it would capture your attention to levels you wouldn't even realize are possible. But, once you finish said book, well then where would the same experience be in reading it again? It would almost feel lost to time as a simple memory and you'd just move onto the next book." Not expecting someone like Kazuha to think of that at some point, seeing as his thought process has completely changed now, you begin to ask questions.

"But then, wouldn't you have to find a completely new place then that you'd want to "settle" in?"

"Well, that's what I thought yes. I thought if I was one day going to stop seeing the wonders of the land, I had to find the perfect spot. A spot beautiful enough that I'd always be able to find the same joy in seeing every day. Some place that I could sit down and maybe even come up with a story too. A story good enough that it would never fade from my head or lose it's interest. So, I continued wandering, no set destination as always. Just seeing where the world would try to take me, I kept on searching and searching. Through valleys, mountains, anything. I could come up with hundreds of stories about the journey itself rather than the goal at hand. Some places I had passed were new, some were old, but it seems as though in each spot I had travelled to, none seemed perfect. Though I should have just enjoyed the sights as I would now, being young I supposed tends to quite the strange thinking at times." He let out a small laugh, being able to reminisce at times who he once was.

Suddenly, it seems as though Kazuha's train of thought is suddenly cut off as his eyes suddenly dart up to a small flock of birds flying past, all flapping their wings together in the same pattern. It may have been such a simple sight to see, but something about it was just so mesmerizing to the young samurai. You see him give a small grin before continuing his story.

"I had been traveling trying to find this 'perfect place' for about a few months. Anticipating that I was going to find it someday, that was until one day. The weather was nothing less than perfect, the breeze could have caused me to glide away. It felt as though the flowers had a special fragrance, the sun was as perfectly warm as it could be, I then stumbled across a tree. I had sat under a tree exactly like that many times before when I needed to rest. It could be said that it was just like any tree, its leaves bearing the same shade of green as all the others, surrounded by the same grass as any other plant. But, the moment I sat down and took everything in, I think something suddenly hit me. I'm still quite shocked it never had dawned upon me, but that very moment.... it was special. The way the breeze hit me, just as it hits both of us now. The way the tree protected me from the sun's rays, just like this very tree here. I think that's when I finally realized that, nothing familiar cannot still be perfect. It's being able to find the beauty still in things we are oh so used to that makes it so perfect. Since then well, I've been to the tree quite a lot, any time I need to reflect or think, that very tree seems to always be there. Now, I sit under that very tree with you." Those words seemed to have hit you quite differently, the fact that your lover would be willing to share this spot with you. It made you feel, so nice... almost a feeling you couldn't describe.

"You never second guessed that this spot would be considered perfect?" You ask in curiosity.

"Well, in the end I wouldn't even say I found this spot perfect. I really took the time to think of every place I had been to up until that point. I think, if everything had a story then, maybe every place was truly perfect. After meeting you though, I think I had to begin finding new words for these times. I could easily create hundreds of stories of this, of us, of you traveler." Kazuha places a kiss on your forehead, caressing your hair much more slowly now. "I promise you traveler, through all travels, you'll always be in my heart."

You suddenly pause, trying to process what Kazuha had just told you. To think that someone could find the perfect things to say at just about any moment about anyone, it really takes you aback. Just as Kazuha had recounted to you, you suddenly began to think to yourself.

"Maybe this will be my "perfect" spot, and so would any other place, as long as I'm with you." That very moment with you two was only then appreciated even more.

#genshin fanfic #genshin #genshin impact #genshin kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #kazuha x reader #kazuha x y/n #genshin fluff #kazuha fluff #kazuha x you #kazuha x gender neutral reader #ily kazuha