#also i got a stupid fucking paper cut in my eye or something like i was trying to push up my glasses and ended up poking my eye with my

[pepprs]

ok. day 1 is over. it was over a while ago but im finally letting myself go to sleep. i am sooooo exhausted lol

[miabebe]

Too Many Beds (Choi Seungcheol)

Reverse Trope Series Installement 1

Pairing - Choi Seungcheol x afab! Reader

Word Count- 13k (don't ask me how I thought I could do this in 2k)

Genre - Enemies to lovers? Frenemies to lovers? Lovers to lovers? Idk man, these two are idiots, that's all. Oh and smut.

Warnings - one mention of blood cause of intense make out wew, other smut warnings under the cut!

A/n - I'm trying to do a Reverse Trope one shot series for all seventeen members, first up Choi Seungcheol :) Next up is 'Accidentally Kidnapping A Mafia Boss' Ft. Yoon Jeonghan hehe send me an ask/message to be tagged in that! Or you can also drop a comment when I drop the teaser in a few days!

Smut warnings - oral (m and f receiving), fingering, brief face fucking, thick dick cheol lol, slight choking, allusions to a breeding kink, unprotected sex (these two are digustingly in love, extremely horny and highly irresponsible, please don't be like them), creampie, mention of the word slut like once, and I'm hoping that's all?

“Absolutely not.”

“No way in hell.”

Seungcheol glared at you as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’m not sharing a room with him.”

“I refuse to even breathe in her vicinity.”

“Then maybe I should do mankind a service by being around you more.”

“The only way you can help mankind is by shutting your mouth.” Seungcheol leaned closer, his voice dropping. “You’re not pretty enough for all the stupidity that comes out of it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Rich coming from you. If I had a face like yours, I’d sue my parents.”

“Aw, fifth graders can insult better than you, sweetheart.”

“That was a fact, darling.”

“Ah” The two of you turned to the receptionist, finally remembering her presence as her eyes flickered between you and Seungcheol. “So, the two of you are dating?”

Looking at her incredulously and with unadulterated disgust, the two of you immediately took a step back.

“No!”

“No!”

“I’d rather stub my pinky toe on furniture everyday than date her-”

“And I’d rather choke on my own spit everyday than date him-”

“Oh baby, I knew you were a desperate one. I can give you something better to choke on-”

“Honey, are you sure? I heard you can stack fruit loops on that skinny thing-”

“Enough!” The old woman behind the counter got to her feet, putting her hands on her hips, the never-ending squabbling finally getting to her. “If either of you say another word, I will personally put you both in the tiniest broom closet I can find and trust me, the ones in this lodge are devastatingly small.”

You immediately shut up, dreading that idea more than anything. Seungcheol too became uncharacteristically and thankfully, quiet.

“Now, as far as your room is concerned, your company booked only one room, number-” She glanced at the paper in her hand and pulled out a pair of keys from the drawer. “- 68. If you can bear each other for 4 nights, well and good, get moving. If not, then take your things and get out of here. Good luck finding another lodge in this miserable weather.”

And as though on cue, a bright light, followed by a loud thunder flooded the room, taking all three of its inhabitants aback.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Seungcheol visibly gulp, well aware of his fear of thunder. Seungcheol too heard the way you sniffled, knowing that your rhinitis would only get worse with the humidity rising outside.

Sighing with the realization that there was no way out of this, both of you reached for the keys at the same time, making the old woman snatch it faster than the damn lightning to avoid yet another fight from breaking out. Ringing for the bellboy, she handed him the keys before he took your suitcase and Seungcheol’s bag in each hand, leading the way to your despair of the night.

Seungcheol followed quietly behind you, hands tucked in his pocket, his large headphones perched on his head as he swayed to the music, blatantly ignoring you. You were thankful for that. Since you were little children, you had always craved moments where you could pretend like this man didn’t exist. Why wouldn’t you? Everything about him was a pain in your ass.

You first met Seungcheol when you were five. Your fathers were college mates turned business partners and coincidentally, your mothers were best friends since high school. Naturally, everyone expected the children of both families to be just as close as their parents but alas, even at the age of five, you could not bear him for more than five minutes. He was so aggressive and unruly, always messing up your dolls, always pulling your hair, never giving you a second of peace when he was around. Albeit that behaviour got milder over the years but there were other things now.

Like the fact that your father always preferred to have a boy, a son who could be his heir, someone like Seungcheol. It wasn’t like he didn’t love you but a different side of him came out every time Seungcheol was around, a side not even you could bring out. He would laugh louder, his eyes would shine more, he would seem so carefree. Seungcheol too never missed the chance to rub that on your face, constantly sneering and claiming that your father would be happier if he was a part of the family.

Over the years, your displeasure and annoyance at Seungcheol only grew into a deep dislike. As though it wasn’t enough that the two of you did your entire schooling together (yes, all twelve years of it), he was always present anywhere and everywhere you went - the debate club, the swim team, the dance academy, the cafes, the libraries, the movies - there was no place you were free of him. Ever since you were young, you had longed to escape to a place far away from home just to be carefree and explore and reinvent yourself without the constant looming of a figment of your past. You had hoped that at least after school you’d have the chance to go away from him but as your luck would have it, the two of you were accepted into the same business school, were interning in the same company, were working on the same project, and had come out of town for the same three-day conference together. It was one thing to have to bear this man’s presence all day, now you had to do it all night as well, thanks to your cheapskate company.

As you got in the lift Seungcheol held the doors open for you before settling in the corner opposite yours, keeping as much distance in between as possible. The bell boy looked at both of you confused.

“I thought the two of you are dating?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes, and fished out your phone, scrolling through it instead.

Seungcheol glanced at you before scoffing at the absurd idea of dating you. He wasn’t foreign to that doubt though – people often wondered if they were together and Seungcheol wondered what on earth they saw between them that even resembled a speck of liking or even tolerance for one another.

Seungcheol had honestly not met anyone as stuck up as you. He never understood why his parents constantly considered you as the ideal role model for their son - ‘Look Cheol, she joined debate, you should too’, ‘She got selected in the swim team, you should try Cheol.’, ‘What do you think about dancing Cheol? She’s really good at it.’. Seungcheol was sick of being dragged into everything you were in, only to always be second. He hated debates, he would rather play football than swim, and though he liked to dance, ever since he joined the academy with you, even dancing was not giving him any solace.

Yet he gave his best all the time. He tried and tried and tried but he was always second to you who was evidently a natural at everything. For example, back in the school days, Seungcheol would almost get the same grades as you but at the cost of sacrificing nights of sleep and putting hours and hours into teaching himself. Meanwhile, you would breeze through the notes a day before the test, get a full 8-hour sleep and still score higher than him. As if that wasn’t enough, you’d invite him home, offering to “tutor” him only to constantly berate him about his ignorance, drop snide comments about how you were better, subtly challenge him in a battle that the both of you were well aware he could not win.

No wonder you had no friends while Seungcheol was as popular as could be - who would even want to be friends with you when you were always so cold and condescending towards anything that moved or breathed. If your parents weren’t joined at the hip, forcing Seungcheol to be a constant presence in your life, he wondered who would ever even talk to you? You should have been thankful for him, that he was the one human presence in your life who was always there despite it all, yet you treated him like he was beneath you. He had hoped that at least after graduating the two of you could part ways but the universe apparently loved playing cosmic jokes, putting the two of you together yet again, at the same workplace. And completely up in each other’s space for the next few days as well.

It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t ever shared a room before - whenever your parents would meet up at each other’s house to drink and talk all night, the two of you had no choice but to crash in the same room, sharing the same bed even but thank God it was usually queen size, allowing the both of you to take two opposite ends, not even your breaths mingling. It had been years since that though…..Seungcheol felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back. He had no idea how he was to spend tonight in this room. Or the next few ones.

Neither did you.

As all three of you stood before the door and the bellboy fumbled with the keys, you glanced at Seungcheol. He looked unbothered as one could be. Perhaps you were overthinking this whole thing. It was a matter of four nights, surely the two of you could at least try to be courteous right?

“What in the...?”

Seungcheol’s voice rang in the empty corridor and you leaned to see what had him so shocked. Your own jaw dropped in a strange mixture of surprise, confusion, and relief.

Room 68 was no average hotel room. It was as big as the entire lobby, 7 heavily pillowed and blanketed single beds aligned from one end to the other almost military barrack style, only small bedside tables putting space between them.

“Room 68 is uh our bachelorette party suite.” The bellboy clarified. “For, you know, those big groups of girls who are hell bent on partying all night together?” He looked away like he was recalling a horrifying memory. “Since it’s holiday season, the lodge is booked out, this was the only room we had left. Is... is it not good?”

Seungcheol looked at you and for the first time in nearly 25 years, the two of you could finally agree on something.

“No.” You stepped in. “It’s perfect.”

It had been years since you had seen Seungcheol half-naked.

Well, you frequently saw him during swim practice in those tight speedo shorts of his, ass all plump and taut but you were not talking about that. You were referring to the sight before you right now, him with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his wet hair falling into his eyes as he searched for something in his bag frantically – most likely his aftershave. You knew he must have cleaned up given the conference was starting tomorrow and also that his cheeks were burning because you couldn’t smell the subtle cinnamon spice aftershave that usually followed in his routine.

Seungcheol strangely felt a pair of eyes on him as he rummaged through his things and suddenly remembered he was not alone in the room. He quickly turned, looking for you, finding you curled up in your bed, writing in what he guessed was your journal, unbothered by his presence. You were wearing that cute nightgown with little tomatoes drawn all over it which Seungcheol found funny given how much you hated tomatoes with all your heart and soul. Realising he had been looking for too long, Seungcheol gulped, quickly grabbing the aftershave he finally found and rushed back into the bathroom.

You flinched as you heard the door of the bathroom slam shut, looking up from your journal. Shaking your head exasperated, you returned to your writing. Seungcheol always handled things around him roughly like he was just not built to be gentle - slamming doors hard, breaking at least one coffee mug a month, causing rips in most of his clothes when he would gym because he was so big…. And muscular…. And built…..You bit the back of your pen thinking about how good he looked in his gym wear but if you were being honest, he looked best in a suit.

He’s going to be wearing one tomorrow.

You snapped out of your thoughts realizing you were entering dangerous waters and turned your attention back to your writing. Seungcheol made that process slightly harder as he walked out, furiously rubbing his towel against the back of his head, dressed in a black t-shirt and grey sweats.

As he sat down on his bed, he looked at you sitting six beds across, all the way in the other end of the room, right by the window. The moment the two of you entered the room, he took bed 1, the one against the wall and you took bed 7, the one against the opposite wall, putting the maximum possible distance between the two of you. He let you use the bathroom first, not because he knew you preferred using it when it is dry but because he thought this was the best time for him to call his parents and wish them goodnight….. even though it was still 7:30.

He showered after you did but even now, despite being so far from you, he could still smell your bodywash, the fragrance of lilies, the mildest kind because strong fragrances irritated your sensitive nose. Throwing his towel on the chair he kicked his legs off the floor and lied on the bed, turning to the wall, hearing the faint annoyed click of a tongue. Seungcheol knew exactly what triggered it - you hated it when he tossed damp towels like that. But honestly, he couldn't care less right now, not when there were more important things to deal with tomorrow, not when he was so tired already.

You shut your journal, irritated by his behaviour remembering exactly why being in the same vicinity as this man infuriated you. Flipping the lights off and pulling the covers over your shivering body, you realigned your thoughts towards your goal - Tomorrow’s conference was crucial. You had to look your best and do your best so clocking in 8 hours of sleep was the priority, Choi Seungcheol's character development be damned.

But as you lied down turning towards the window, lightning flashed across the sky, a loud thunder following. You turned to see Seungcheol and his back was facing you, the outline of his figure moving up and down rhythmically like he was already in a deep sleep. Slightly relieved yet still unconvinced, you turned towards him before the sleep and tiredness took you away.

Seungcheol simply stared at the wall all night.

Seungcheol most definitely did not sleep all night.

You could tell by the fact that one, he was up without you waking him and two, he was not there in the room right now. That meant he was out for a run which in turn meant his face must have been all swollen which definitely meant he didn’t get enough sleep. You did notice though that his bedding had shifted from bed 1 to bed 2 and guessed it was because of the coldness of the wall - Seungcheol had the habit of tossing and turning at night and there was nothing he hated more than his bare skin accidentally brushing the cold walls. Considering you were still five beds away from him, you ignored it as you went to wash up and prepare for the day.

When he saw the time on his watch as he finished his last lap, Seungcheol realised he was way behind schedule and that you probably were already at breakfast, sitting with a dozen snide remarks, waiting for him. True enough, as he quickly showered, dressed, and headed down to the buffet, you were there already, going through the proposal, the plate beside you nearly empty. Quickly grabbing a piece of toast and stuffing it in his mouth he walked over, putting on his suit jacket in a hurry. As you saw him approach, you shut your laptop, looking at him top to down in an ensemble that fit him all too well. Seungcheol’s eyes wandered over the pretty way you did your hair, and the plunging neckline of your blouse, a sliver of your pink bra peeking from underneath the fabric-

Both of you cleared your throats and looked away.

“We should leave, the cab should be here in-” He glanced at his watch. “-should have been here ten minutes ago, fuck.”

“It’ll be here in ten.” You pushed a cup of coffee towards him, looking at him pointedly to take a seat. Seungcheol glanced at it then back at you.

“You changed the time on my watch.” He huffed annoyed. “Again.”

“Glad to know you are still capable of basic comprehension.”

“You vile woman.” Seungcheol gritted between his teeth, sitting down. “I showered so fast I thought I was going to pass out.”

“But you didn’t.” You shrugged. “And learn to be grateful Seungcheol, you’re only ever on time when I meddle, so say thanks to me.”

“I’d rather die before I thank you.” He took a sip of the coffee before the extreme bitterness hit his tongue, making him spit it out right back into the cup. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“You did say you’d rather die.”

“Fuck you.”

“I know ten minutes is more than enough for you but personally, I prefer longer.”

Every single time. Every single time you flashed him that sweet, mocking smile and every single time it pushed his buttons like no other. One day he swore to put you in your place but right now he was too low on energy for that.

Well aware that you loved strawberries more than anything, he grabbed the last one on your plate and walked off to the taxi stand, ignoring the way you whined behind him.

“Oh, real mature of you Choi Seungcheol!”

You knew in your stress about perfecting the proposal early in the morning you had forgotten something important and the moment you stepped into the room that night, you knew exactly what that was.

To close the windows.

Thanks to the pouring rain, the water had drenched your entire bed, not to forget, your bag full of your clothes which was conveniently placed right on the mattress, soaking nearly every piece of clothing you owned. Thank God the laundry in the lodge said they would handle it for you so you still had an outfit for tomorrow’s conference but there were still two major concerns - one, what to wear tonight and two, where to sleep tonight.

You solved the first problem (almost) by grabbing your umbrella and heading to the nearest clothing store as instructed by the receptionist only to find out it sold barely any ‘cloth’ at all. It was an adult shop, filled majorly with lingerie of all kinds which were aiming to cover as little as possible. Groaning inwardly, knowing you didn’t have a phone on you to go any further in this weather, you grabbed the most decent nightgown you could find and rushed back.

A hot shower, a change of clothes and a quick meal later you decided to deal with your second problem, moving your things from bed 7 to 6, not too displeased considering there were still three beds between the two of you. You glanced at Seungcheol’s empty bed and then at the time - it was well past 10. Sighing, you settled under the covers pulling out your journal to write but got lost in your thoughts instead.

You were pretty proud of what you presented today - people praised you, congratulated you for a well drafted proposal and even went so far as to offer you jobs in their company. Yet you were not satisfied. Somehow, the one thing constantly running in your mind was the swarm of women who had flocked around Seungcheol the moment the conference was done, ‘mindlessly’ touching his arms, ‘casually’ brushing their chests against his, ‘genuinely’ laughing too hard at whatever bullshit came out of his mouth.

This was not new to you, Choi Seungcheol being the centre of attention wherever he went. He enjoyed it, basked in it, and chose to make a show of it whenever he got a chance. It was all so fake and superficial; you could not bear to stand it. That’s why even though everyone decided to go out for dinner and drinks tonight, yes, all twenty-seven of them, you politely said goodbye citing a headache and took a cab back. You were not interested in casual conversation and definitely not interested in seeing Seungcheol’s pathetic flirting.

Just as you begin to relish his absence and the beautiful silence that came with it, a loud knocking on the door and his voice screaming your name ended your perfect night. Grumbling, you opened the door to a fully drenched Seungcheol looking absolutely frazzled.

“What the hell-”

He stopped when his eyes fell on you dressed in a white floor length satin gown, the material seductively clinging to the curves of your body, your leg slightly visible between the slit. You crossed your arms to cover yourself up, feeling conscious under his gaze as he gulped audibly.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He met your eyes, a slight worry flashing behind the anger. “You just disappeared without letting me know-”

“I told you I was leaving.” You walked into the room rolling your eyes. “Maybe if you could see something beyond all that pathetic fangirling you’d have heard.”

“Fangirling?” He looked genuinely confused, following you in as he stripped off his jacket. You tried your best to not stare at the way his pecs were so perfectly outlined under the wet shirt sticking to his body but Seungcheol caught you peering, his features lighting up with amusement.

“Would you look at that?” He smirked. “Someone is jealous.”

“Please.” You scoffed. “I wouldn’t be jealous even if we were the last people on Earth.”

“Obviously, if we were the last people, who would you even be jealous of?”

You sighed. “You know what I mean.”

“I actually don't, sweetheart. If a little action is all you want, you can just ask for it you know?”

“Funny coming from a guy who kissed me just because another man was talking to me.”

The first tea break of the conference had led to an introduction that was surprising to you considering people did not really tend to approach you on their own. It was even more shocking that this man chose to speak to you in the lunch break as well, completely unprompted. He was sweet, not egging you too much with conversation, simply limiting it to work and the conference and then Choi Seungcheol appeared out of nowhere, snaking an arm around your waist, uninvited. Before you could glare at him and send him away, he planted a soft kiss on your cheek, excused himself and led you away from there, only to abandon you the very next second without an explanation.

“You call that a kiss?” Seungcheol scoffed. “You were so swept off your feet, you were this close to spilling details on our quotation for the project. That was actually me shutting you up.”

“Oh yeah?” You raised an eyebrow. “If you really wanted to shut me up, then you should have kissed me on the mouth.”

Seungcheol stared at you wordlessly.

As you began to walk away, he pulled you by the elbow, putting you against the wall, trapping you between his hands on either side.

“Is that how?” He leaned closer, the scent of his cologne taking over your senses. “Because there is nothing I’d love to do more than shut you up.” He cocked his head with a small smile. “And maybe also show you what a kiss really is.”

You tried not to gulp the phantom lump in your throat, cheeks suddenly hot under his gaze. Somehow, as though it had a mind of its own, your hand traced his exposed collar bone, trailing down his chest slowly, eyes following. Seungcheol held his breath under your touch. You stopped your tracks at his hard pecs, right above his heart beating just as fast as yours and looked up at him.

And then twisted his nipple.

Shrieking in pain, Seungcheol stumbled back, clutching his chest.

“What the hell mate?”

You walked towards your bed, grabbing your matching satin night robe and slipping it on. “It's ridiculous that you even think you of all people could show me a real kiss.”

“You forget sweetheart, I was your first one.”

You turned to Seungcheol as he brought up a memory you had actually done a great job forgetting. It was during your senior year - your parents had forced you to accompany Seungcheol to a house party so you could “get more involved in the social scene” instead of holing yourself up in your room all the time. It was a classic game of truth or dare and the worst dare of your life - to kiss Seungcheol for a minute.

Now the last thing you wanted to hear was him teasing you every day about how you were too scared to kiss him so you held him by the collar and pulled yourself into his lap straddling him, your mouth meeting his in a frenzy. If you were being honest, something about that kiss served as your sexual awakening - maybe it was the way he moaned into your mouth, or his hands gripped your ass, or hands entangled in his soft hair or your chest pressed up against his. Whatever it was, there was a video of it that your classmates took circulating somewhere out there, timed around five and a half minutes as opposed to the one minute it was supposed to be.

“Don’t take too much pride in yourself Cheol.” You sat on the bed, leaning back on your hands planted in the mattress. “Only I know how many other guys I had to kiss after that to know what kissing truly is.”

Seungcheol felt his jaw tighten.

Something in you had changed in junior year. Yes, you were still the same antisocial, inhospitable, unapproachable person you always were but somehow every other day, he found you in a new location with a new guy's tongue shoved down your throat. They were not boyfriends, Seungcheol knew that much, and it was the fact that they weren't that made his blood boil with anger.

“You shouldn’t take pride in yourself either sweetheart.” He looked at you with a strange mixture of anger and pity. “There's nothing to feel accomplished about not forming a single real bond in your life.”

The moment the words left his mouth Seungcheol regretted it, knowing he had hit a soft spot. It was too late now; the damage was done - pain was flashing in your eyes.

You looked at the insensitive man before you and laughed at him sadly, mirroring his hurtful words.

“No real bond? I’m afraid you filled that void Seungcheol. Hate forms really strong bonds too.”

And with that you turned away from him, tucking yourself under the sheets, turning off the lights on your side of the room. Grabbing his towel and a change of clothes, Seungcheol locked himself up in the bathroom, your words piercing his heart like no other. Over the years yes, the two of you argued and fought and annoyed each other and couldn’t stand one another but hate? He didn’t ever think that’s what you felt for him. Perhaps he deserved it - he had after all crossed a line with that comment.

He knew you had always struggled around people. He knew that even though you detested taking his help for anything, in every social setting, you would always choose to hide behind him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to interact, you just couldn’t. You were a sick child since birth, constantly brought down by various illnesses that often confined you to your room - you didn’t go out to play with the other children, you didn’t join the kids on their trips to the ice cream shop, you didn’t go late night camping with your classmates, you didn’t do a lot of what kids your age did.

And when you were old enough, when you were healthy enough to step out into the world, you didn’t know how to anymore. Hence you continued to stay in your own shell, closing yourself off from everyone, wary of any and all interactions. Seungcheol knew all this, that’s why when he couldn't lay his eyes on you in the crowd of the conference, the panic he felt was like no other. He never thought he would ever feel his heart stop but Seungcheol felt it twice today - once when he lost you and the other when you said that. I’m afraid you filled that void Seungcheol. Hate forms really strong bonds too.

You stared out of the window, mildly annoyed by all the light falling in your face, Seungcheol’s words ringing in your ears. It might have sounded harsh but he was right. You never formed real bonds with anyone, you could never bring yourself to. Having spent years all by yourself, you didn’t know what it was like to let another person into a space that was entirely yours. That’s why, though you engaged in all sorts of flings and hookups, you never let it go beyond that - you never let yourself lose your heart to someone, walking away from them before they could walk away from you.

In that sense, Seungcheol was indeed the realest bond you had - just a constantly present, mildly irritating, oddly comforting white noise in your life. It was easy with him - you never had to think in his presence, you never had to wonder whether anything would drive him away, never had to worry about keeping him by your side unconditionally - he was always there. Somehow what you felt for Seungcheol was liberating in a way you hadn’t even realized. Hate could hardly define that; you were unnecessarily harsh earlier.

Seungcheol stepped out of the bathroom, eyes falling on your unmoving figure which he just realized was on bed 6 instead of 7. Noticing the damp sheets and piecing it together, he didn’t think too much of it as he switched off the lights and crawled into his bed.

Hearing the sounds of him shuffling, you turned towards him.

“Are you not going for the dinner?”

“It’s too late now. I would have eaten there if I didn’t have to run back here to check up on you.”

“You could have just called me.”

“I did.” He turned to you, looking at just your silhouette in the darkness. “A few hundred times.”

You checked your phone immediately and it wasn’t a hundred times but there were some fifty odd calls from him and two dozen messages.

“I put my phone on silent during the conference and forgot to take it off.” You mumbled, just a little guilty that he was missing out on a gathering because of you. “Did you at least eat?”

“I’m not hungry, thanks to all the Americanos you kept feeding me all day.”

“If not for that, you would have been snoring in the conference barely an hour after it began.” You turned to lie on your back, facing the ceiling. “And I wouldn’t have had to do that if you’d just obediently drank that double shot espresso in the morning.”

Seungcheol remembered you sliding the coffee cup to him and smiled to himself in the dark.

“Then maybe you should also listen to me and stop munching on those strawberries every chance you get, especially when you know they flare your allergies.”

You remembered Seungcheol gobbling up the last berry and smiled to yourself in the dark.

“Goodnight, you obnoxious prick.”

“Goodnight, you insufferable fiend."

When you woke up in the morning, two things had changed - one, Seungcheol had moved from bed 2 to bed 3 in the middle of the night and two, his shirt was gone, discarded somewhere in the mess on the floor. He was lying sprawled on his bare stomach, his back covered in a thin sheet of sweat, his tattoo shining as the light hit it. Ignoring the sight before you with much difficulty, you shook him awake.

“Get up Cheol, we’re going to be late.”

He groaned, rolling over, eyes slowly blinking open, falling on you first thing in the morning. Even though you were dressed in the sultriest thing he had ever seen on you, Seungcheol controlled himself and tore his eyes away.

“The radiator is right across the other bed; I was literally burning all night.” He mumbled, stretching awake, justifying his move.

You turned towards it noticing how it was in fact between bed two and three, closer to three than two to be honest. Considering Seungcheol was still drenched in sweat, his move in the middle of the night was actually quite pointless, but you chose not to say anything about it. Quickly washing up, the two of you rushed for breakfast, skimming over the presentation notes one last time. Today, neither of you noticed but Seungcheol drank the coffee and you didn’t eat the strawberries.

Day two went by in a flash much like day one. Only this time, you didn’t talk to the gentleman from yesterday, choosing to sit quietly by Seungcheol in the break and he didn’t leave your side either, regardless of all the ladies calling him to join them. In the evening, as the team headed to the city’s best karaoke bar, inviting you and Seungcheol again, Seungcheol brushed them off claiming the two of you had a little more work to do on the proposal. To his surprise, you shot him down, agreeing to join everyone, looking at him with a small smile.

“Don’t be such a killjoy darling.”

Seungcheol knew you were compensating for last night so he followed, well aware that you would most likely want to leave the moment the singing started. Well, he was almost right - you actually wanted to leave the moment you stepped foot into the room, turning to him with pleading eyes. Seungcheol turned you by your shoulder, laughing as he led you in.

“Don’t be such a killjoy sweetheart.”

You sat patiently as the beers poured in and people around you fought for the photobooth props. Seungcheol was sitting right beside you, his thigh a comforting weight against yours, laughing with everyone. As the night progressed, you had downed a beer or two, a slight buzz taking over, not noticing the way Seungcheol had his arm around you now or that you were warmly cuddled against his torso. Soon, one by one, everyone settled on the couches, tired from all the screaming, resorting to chatter instead and deciding on an old-fashioned game of truth or dare. Seungcheol smirked at you and you turned his face away with a soft push.

“So Seungcheol,” The man beside him spoke. “Truth or dare?”

“Neither actually. We should leave now.” He stood, pulling you up, stumbling slightly. “I’ve had too much to drink and it's late, Y/n needs to sleep.”

“Didn’t realize wacky wallflower here also had the bedtime of a toddler.” One of Seungcheol’s many fangirls piqued, jealousy stark on her face. “We can book her a cab, why don’t you stay a little longer, Cheolie?”

You raised an eyebrow, amused at the nickname, and at her jealousy but Seungcheol did not find anything about her words even remotely funny.

“No thanks, I go where she goes.”

“I thought you guys weren’t dating? Then why-”

“That doesn’t change what I said.” His voice dropped an octave. “I go where she goes.”

“Cheol.” You placed a hand on his chest, sensing his anger rising. “It’s fine, let’s stay for a few rounds, yeah?”

Seungcheol looked at you frowning as you sat down, pulling him with you. The girl you already disliked but quite vehemently hate now, spun the bottle with a giggle.

“We don’t have to stay.” Seungcheol whispered as the guy beside you excitedly asked the one across him a question. “You stayed long enough, you need sleep-”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m not.” He spoke between gritted teeth. “Just looking at that foul woman makes me mad. I already said I wasn’t interested in her, she had no reason to be a bitch.”

“Well then don’t you want to put the bitch in her place Cheol?”

You looked at him with big doe eyes which terrified Seungcheol even more. What on Earth were you up to?

“Y/n, you get to ask Yuri!”

You looked at the bottle to see it pointing between you and your little conquest of the night. Hook.

“Truth or dare?” Line.

“Dare.” And Sinker.

“Okay Yuri, then I dare you to not take your eyes off.”

You pulled Seungcheol by the collar, smashing your lips on his, swallowing his audible moan. His hands immediately found your waist, pulling you closer, up against his body, teeth roughly tugging your lower lip. Hand sliding up his neck and across his jaw, you entangled your fingers in his hair, drawing him even closer denying even air the right to come between the two of you. Yes, it was all a show for Yuri or whatever her name was, but at a point, she stomped her foot and got up, running out of the room. Perhaps the two of you should have stopped then or at least when you were running out of breath. But you only broke apart when someone dropped a beer bottle, smashing the glass loudly on the floor. Seungcheol and you looked at it, faces flushed, lips swollen. A low whistle echoed in the room.

“We-” Seungcheol cleared his throat, trying to get his voice back. “We should get going.”

“Y-yeah.” You agreed, getting up and grabbing your things as Seungcheol smoothened his hair with his hand, muttering a small goodbye to everyone. As the two of you stepped out of the room, you found Yuri crying at the entrance, her friend trying her best to console her. Not sparing her another glance, you walked away, Seungcheol following you close behind. As the cold air hit you when you reached the taxi stand, you felt a painful sting on your lower lip, making you hiss. Hand cupping your face, Seungcheol wiped the trickle of blood with his thumb.

“Guess you desperately did need a real kiss huh?”

“Shut up.” You smacked his hand away. “I had to help the poor girl get over her pathetic taste in men.”

“By getting a taste of me?” Seungcheol smirked as you rolled your eyes. Before you could say anything, his stomach let out a loud growl making you laugh and look around, spotting a burger joint.

“Let’s get you a taste of that big boy.”

“Sometimes I wonder-” You stared out of the window at the large clouds rolling in. “-considering our parents are best friends and we are not, do you think our children would be good friends or enemies?”

“Wow, children.” Seungcheol munched on his burger furiously. “I never thought that far.”

“Then think about it now.”

“I don’t know.” He hummed. He hated thinking when he was tipsy. “Siblings tend to have a love-hate relationship.”

“I was talking about our children Seungcheol.”

“So was I.”

“No, I mean, my own children and your own children.”

“Yeah, same thing.”

You looked at him exasperatedly.

“Let’s be honest here Y/n. Who else out there can put up with us for long enough to start a family?”

“We can barely put up with each other-”

“But we have, for almost 25 years.” He slurped on his drink. “There’s a reason why you have never been in a relationship and I have never been in one that lasts. Because whatever it is we share, it’s you and I, till the end.”

“Till the end.” You muttered, reaching for his burger, taking a bite from it. Judging by your expression, Seungcheol could tell you liked his better, like you always do. That’s why he made sure to get it without the tomatoes he usually loved and settled to eat your meal instead. He was just about to ask why exactly you were so lost in thought when a loud thunder boomed across the sky sending a shiver running down Seungcheol’s spine.

Shoving the last of the burger down your throat quickly washing it down with some soda, you began gathering your things.

“We should go before the rain starts.”

Seungcheol nodded, finishing up his meal as you threw the trash in the nearby can. As the two of you left, muttering your thank yous to the waitresses, you laced your fingers with Seungcheol’s, gripping him tight as another lightning flashed across the sky. Thank God it wasn’t too hard to flag down a cab because the moment the two of you sat inside, rain began pouring like there was no tomorrow. As you glanced at the obscurity outside the window, Seungcheol stared at his hand, the one that you hadn’t left in all this time.

There were times when he used to stay over in your room, unable to sleep due to all the thundering while you dozed away oblivious to his presence. Those days, you’d turn around, reaching for his hand, holding it in your sleep. Seungcheol now wondered if that might have been a conscious effort to comfort him.

Perhaps not he thought as you began to nonchalantly hum his favourite song. He wondered if you knew he loved that piece because of how beautiful you looked when you danced to it. He wondered if you knew that the reason he was always around you was to make sure you were alright. He wondered if you knew he always carried an extra inhaler for you, that he had written a long list of your allergies in order from ‘can handle’ to ‘keep away from at all times’, that he was constantly alert about everything you ate, smelt and touched. He wondered if you knew, deep down how much he cared about you…..but sleep dragged him away before he could wonder anymore.

Sensing Seungcheol had fallen asleep, you stopped humming, turning to him, smiling at his half open mouth. Scooting closer, you slowly pulled his head to rest against your shoulder, and he groaned softly, nuzzling into it. The driver looked at the two of you through the rear-view mirror, making your cheeks go red as you looked away.

“Is your boyfriend afraid of thunderstorms?”

You nodded, ignoring the title. “Since he was a child. I don’t think he’s been sleeping too well the last few days.”

“The forecast shows it’s going to be worse today.” The driver sighed. “Look out for him.”

You nodded again. You did look out for him. In your own ways you always did - you always challenged him knowing that was what pushed him to do better. You always made sure to wake him up or at least meddle with his clocks so he was always on time. You always made sure he ate and slept enough, knowing how it threw him off whenever he was deprived of either. Even now you were humming his favourite song knowing it calmed him down. You wondered if Seungcheol knew, that deep down you really cared about him…..perhaps more than anything.

When the taxi reached the lodge, you softly shook him awake after paying, dragging his sleepy self through the lobby. The receptionist's eyes followed the two of you, stumbling away hand in hand, mouth curling into a small smile as you disappeared. You only let his hand go when you reached the room and that’s what jolted him awake.

The silence that descended the room today was different. It wasn’t because the two of you were too tired to say anything to each other, rather neither of you knew what exactly to say given there was so much to. So instead, you resorted to washing up and filling in your journal for the day while Seungcheol worked on a few changes in the proposal for the final pitch tomorrow. Just as he shut the laptop and you shut your diary, the two of you looked at each other before quickly looking away, settling in your own beds, for the night.

You were almost ready to drift off to sleep, before the driver’s words rang in your mind - the forecast shows it’s going to be worse today. Without thinking much, you moved your things from bed 6 to bed 5, muttering that the light from the streetlamps was falling in your face there. Seungcheol did not point out that you could just close the curtains instead and curled up in his own bed, glad you were closer to him now.

He looked at you across the one bed that was in between and suddenly you felt too far, like the distance was too much.

You looked at him as his eyes fluttered shut, thunder rumbling across the sky, wondering if he could hear you across all this space, humming louder than usual, lulling the two of you to sleep.

When you woke up, Seungcheol was surprisingly awake and fully dressed, trying to knot his tie unsuccessfully in front of the mirror, expression focused with a small pout. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you stared at his reflection, eyes skimming over the beautiful features of his face which you never really consciously admired - his thick hair, thicker eyebrows, plump, pillowy lips, his jawline sharp and chiselled. He was indeed handsome, in a way you really liked….a lot.

You wondered why you always looked at him like he was the bane of your existence. Was it because it was easier to bury the unresolved tension under pointless banter? Or did you wantonly show him your worst side, hoping it wouldn’t scare him away, hoping he would stay despite every flaw, every shortcoming. What did it mean if in 25 years, he didn’t leave even once?

Seungcheol groaned, annoyed at his futile attempts, eyes finally meeting yours in the mirror. You slid off your bed, walking up to him as he turned to you. Yawning, you took his tie in your hands, tying it for him. Seungcheol’s eyes drifted over the features of your face as he held his breath.

He could get used to this, the sight of waking up to a sleepy you, your hair all over the place, your eyes slightly droopy, nose red. God you were so beautiful - he knew that, but why didn’t he ever think about it? Why did he choose to fight every remote thought about you with irritating banter? Was he scared that the tension would remain unresolved? And what did it mean if you were still here, right by his side, helping him out in everything big and small, always making sure he was going the right way and doing the right thing, every single day for the last 25 years?

You pushed the knot up to his neck, smoothening the material, patting his chest with a proud smile. Seungcheol gulped as you walked away to wash up, trying to get his breath under control.

When the two of you came down for breakfast, you pointedly avoided the receptionist's gaze. There was no time to deal with more thoughts.

The rest of the day went like that, thoughtlessly. It was a little awkward at the conference considering the little show you two put up last night, so the moment it ended for good in the evening, you bid everyone goodbye, citing you had an early flight and had to leave soon. It was true though, you did have to travel in the wee hours of the morning, but leaving from the conference so soon also meant having to spend longer with Seungcheol, all alone. He agreed with you though, stating his social battery was at an all-time low and that he just wanted to go back.

Today the two of you were somehow sitting on two ends of the car backseat, bodies pressing against the door, in complete contrast to last night. It was a silent ride, a silent walk to the room and a silent session of packing up. Suddenly there were very conscious efforts to not brush hands, or accidentally walk into each other or catch the other person randomly staring, lost in thought. It was only when you were finally done that you asked Seungcheol if he wanted to order dinner. He agreed, leading to a very small and very efficient discussion about what dishes to eat and then silence descended upon the room again. While waiting for the food to arrive, Seungcheol muttered that he was going for a quick run, leaving you alone with the thoughts you could no longer stop from plaguing your mind.

Something had changed over the last 3 days. It wasn’t you or Seungcheol - he was still throwing his damp towels on dry clothes and you were still meddling with his clocks. No, the two of you hadn’t changed. Neither did the arguing, neither did the banter, neither did the subtle flirting, neither did the silent support. No…. nothing had changed. It was all the same. It was all the exact same except now, you were finally willing to acknowledge something you hadn’t even admitted to yourself since the age of five, that-

“I’m in love with him.” You whispered, smiling to yourself.

Seungcheol on the other hand thought running around the lodge would mean those thoughts wouldn’t run in his mind anymore. He was wrong - even though you were not there, like always you were on his mind, in his every thought, in his every breath. Seungcheol didn’t know of a life without you. He also knew that you would be there with him for the rest of his life but for the first time in 25 years, he finally found himself owning up to it - that he truly wanted you be a part of his future, that he could not bear to think of one without you in it, that-

“I’m in love with her.” He whispered, smiling to himself.

By the time Seungcheol had returned, dinner had arrived. Between each bite you searched for the right words to say, noticing that Seungcheol was trying the same. Somehow, neither of you could bring yourself to say anything.

You couldn’t peacefully finish up your journal and Seungcheol couldn’t take a relaxing shower, both muttering under your breaths, practicing long speeches, determined to confess everything before sleeping tonight.

But when all was done for the night, both of you laid down on your respective beds, staring at the ceiling, unable to talk, unable to sleep.

Seungcheol turned his head as you did towards him, making his heart clench a little.

Sighing, he grabbed his pillow and put it on bed 4, lying down, facing you.

You looked at him blinking slowly.

Seungcheol held his breath.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your duvet and joined him on the fourth bed, throwing it over the two of you, lying down, facing him.

Seungcheol slid his hand over your waist, pulling you closer.

You gripped the material of his shirt, snuggling into the warmth of his neck.

Nothing was said that night.

Nothing had to be said as the two of you drifted off to sleep.

It was the harsh morning sun and the annoying chirping of the birds that woke you up.

You stared out of the window surprised at the bright light given the last few days were as gloomy as it could be. Seungcheol’s soft breaths tickled your shoulder as his arms held you tight, your back against his chest. Smiling you wiggled in his grip turning towards him, taking in how much more stunning he looked in the morning light-

Morning?

“Cheol.”

He hummed softly.

“Cheol!”

“What?”

“It’s bright outside.”

“That’s how mornings are Y/n.”

“Oh thank you for enlightening me.” You rolled your eyes. “Might I return the favour by reminding you that we had a flight at 5am?”

Seungcheol’s eyes flew open.

He quickly grabbed his phone from the nightstand, 11am flashing on the screen.

“Fuck.” He muttered, running his hand through his hair. “Fuck fuck fuck, I can’t believe we missed the flight!”

You took the phone from him and scrolled through the app. “The next flight out is tomorrow morning, same time, 5am.”

“But the company hasn’t paid for the room tonight, where will we stay?” Seungcheol groaned. “How could you not wake me up?”

You frowned at him. “And why is it my job to?”

“Because, you don’t like it when I put alarms on my phone.”

“Uh no, I don’t like it when you continue to sleep through the dozen alarms you put on your phone.”

“Whatever your reasons are, I think its been established that you are the one who's supposed to wake us both up.”

“Yeah well thanks to you I forgot to set an alarm.”

“Thanks to me?” He looked at you bewildered. “What did I do?”

“Who asked you to..” You pointed at everything around with the wave of a hand, the two of you only just registering the situation you were in.

“You were the one who came to my bed.” Seungcheol shrugged. “This is on you because you were desperate.”

“Says the one who’s boner poking into my back woke me up.”

Seungcheol gawked at you, stuttering. “M-morning wood is a scientific phenomenon, okay? I can’t help it-”

“I could have.” You muttered, slipping out of the bed.

Seungcheol pulled you back under him, half hovering over you.

“Oh yeah?” He bit his lower lip with a small smile. “How exactly?”

You hummed, “I happen to know some good meditation techniques-”, running a finger down his abdomen, tracing a random design.

Seungcheol grabbed your hand and pinned it to the mattress by your face, leaning close.

“Think of a better way, baby.”

The nickname sent a delightful chill down your spine as you slightly squirmed under him, smiling.

“How about I get you some ice-”

“That’s not what I want right now.”

“Then what do you want right now?”

His eyes ran along the features of your face.

“I want to kiss you.” He whispered. “So bad.”

“And what are you waiting for?”

Seungcheol groaned, immediately pressing his lips onto yours, needy and ravenous, like he had been waiting eons for this. Well, so had you.

Pushing him off you and onto his back, you straddled his hips, kissing him again, rolling your tongue over his. Seungcheol moaned into your mouth, one hand wrapping around your waist, the other holding you by the nape of your neck, taking back control. When you ran your hand over his thick pecs, he pulled away with a dreamy sigh, planting a trail of kisses along your jaw, down your throat.

“Strip for me.”

Sitting up immediately, you lifted your hips a little letting Seungcheol push the material of your nightdress up your thighs and you pulled it over your head, tossing it somewhere. In the ten seconds it took you to do that, Seungcheol was a changed man. The old him wanted to take his time unravelling you slowly, pushing you to the edge but the new Seungcheol felt the animal in him come alive with a throbbing, insatiable desire. It became exponentially worse when you pulled your hair up, tying it with the hair tie on your wrist, baring your neck, perfect breasts, soft stomach….unable to reign it in anymore, Seungcheol lunged forward, hungrily sucking a tit into his mouth, making you lose your balance over him a little, grabbing his bicep half laughing.

“Huh, I really thought you were more of an ass guy.”

Seungcheol let go with a wet pop, looking up at you from between his thick lashes. Oh wasn’t that a sight.

“For you, I’m an everything guy.” His hands gripped your ass hard. “Your derriere does take the cake though.”

You laughed, “Who even uses that word?”

“I don’t know, I have no idea what is coming out of my mouth right now.” He confessed, his tongue running up the gap between your boobs, the sweet and salty taste of your skin driving him insane. “I just know what I want in it.”

“Yeah?” You sighed, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him back with a harsh grip, before he latched onto your other tit. “I have better things to put in it.”

Seungcheol grinned like he couldn’t wait, flashing his canines, biting his lower lip.

God he was going to be the end of you.

But you’ll beat him to it.

Palms planted behind you, you slid yourself back off his thighs and sat between his legs, lifting your own up for him. Seungcheol’s eyes darkened in an instant and the moment he saw the wet spot in the middle of your pink panties, he could not hold himself back anymore. With a swift movement he was up on his knees before you, hooking his fingers in the elastic by your waist and slowly dragging your underwear along your legs. Like a man starving he crumpled it in his hand, breathing it deeply, eyes fluttering shut like he was intoxicated by your scent.

“I’m going to be borrowing this, for whenever you’re not there.”

“Pervert.” You whispered as he tucked it in the back pocket of his tracks. “But I’m never not going to be there. I’m afraid you’re stuck for life now.”

Seungcheol fisted the material at the back of his neck and pulled it over his head, flinging it somewhere before he put his hands between your knees and spread your legs apart, groaning at the sight before him. You were quite literally hiding his paradise between your legs.

“Trust me,” He reached for a pillow behind him, throwing it to you. “I want to be stuck here.”

The moment you tucked it under your head lying back, Seungcheol wasted no time in crawling between your legs, tossing them over his shoulder, descending on your sex. You felt your back arch off the mattress as he devoured, his tongue, mouth, lips all showing you stars in daytime.

“Fuck Cheol.” You whimpered as his tongue slipped into your hole, his moan sending a wild vibration against it. Bringing your hands to his head, your fingers gripped his hair, pushing your hips up against him “Give me more.”

Seungcheol smirked, pressing your hips down, continuing his ministrations in a way that made your toes curl. Damn he knew what he was doing. For a split second you wondered how he knew so much and an ugly jealousy began coursing through you but it was lost almost immediately, when he began to suck on your clit.

“Cheol….” You moaned, the sudden stimulation too intense for you, a tightness growing deep inside. “F-fuck that’s good.”

Seungcheol knew he was good. Not because he was experienced, not exactly - more because he was desperate to taste every inch of you. If he thought the taste of your arousal was heavenly, the moment your legs trembled and your breaths got harsher and you came against his mouth, Seungcheol knew he’d cast aside the heavens for it. This wasn’t enough.

This was probably the fastest orgasm you ever had, waves of the buzz washing over as your jaw fell slack. You rode it out against his mouth, tense shivers running down your body as his nose grazed your clit before falling limp into the softness of the bed, chest heaving.

Seungcheol was so noisily devoted to making you fall apart on his tongue, he wasn't sure if you didn't moan his name or if he was too entranced to hear it. Either way, he had to go again, keeping in mind to put his eyes on you this time. When he looked up at you, your face was flushed, lips curled into a blissful smile and Seungcheol thought he fell more in love with you, if that was even possible.

“We're gonna have to talk about why you're so good at that.” You half laughed, trying to sit up. Seungcheol pushed you back down, throwing another pillow at you, humming.

“How good was I exactly?”

“Nice try big boy,” You stacked the pillow over the previous one, leaning back against it. “I'm not going to feed your ego.”

“I'll feed myself then.” He smirked before licking a long strip between your folds making you tremble with over stimulation.

“Cheol not yet-”

“If I don't hear you I'm not going to stop.”

And he descended upon you like a mad man again, making you gasp in surprise. You did not think he'd go through with it.

“Cheol I really can't-”

but Seungcheol did not stop.

When he didn’t listen, you reached to pull him off you but Seungcheol was quicker as he grabbed both your wrists in a flash and held them against your heaving chest, continuing to eat the life out of you.

“Seungcheol please.” You couldn’t even squirm if you tried to, held down hard by his brute strength. “I really can’t-”

He looked up, his mouth wet with his spit and your arousal as he licked his lips. Fuck you really loved this man.

“Do you actually want me to stop?”

He was taunting you but there's a slight concern laced in his voice.

You shook your head slowly.

“I thought so.” He chuckled before continuing his act of wolfing down on you.

Your second orgasm began to rush in with an unreal speed and you don't know how Seungcheol could read your body so well already but the little bitch backed out before you could cum again.

“Cheol…”

You whined, frustrated at the feeling ebbing away, desperately clenching to hold on to it.

“I said I wanted to hear you.”

You glared at him, not used to him having the upper hand. He knew he's got you under control when he finally loosened his bruising grip on your thigh to sit up and you opened your mouth on your own accord to let him slip his fingers into them.

“What a pretty little girl.” He sighed as you sucked on his digits. “My pretty girl.”

“Yes yours.” You moaned, as he pulled them out of your mouth and pushed them into his, wetting them more as you practically panted below him.

“I'll do what you want, just put them in me Cheol.”

“You're quite demanding baby.” He leaned over you looking amused. “I hope you deliver as well as you talk.”

“I'll suck the life out of your dick after this I swear, just let me cum again.”

Enticed by the idea, Seungcheol captured your mouth in another one of his messy kisses, his fingers slowly slipping into your heat. You gasped into his mouth, surprised by how thick his fingers were. Oh his dick would probably make you pass out and god were you ready for it.

“Say my name baby.” Seungcheol pressed his forehead against yours, still holding your wrists between both your bodies with his other hand. “Tell me who's making you feel so good.”

“You.” You moaned as he pumped his fingers, slowly stretching you open, your arousal dripping down between your thighs. “Fuck Cheol, faster.”

He obeyed, picking up the pace as you babbled a string of curses, legs squeezing his hand desperate to feel more. Seungcheol sucked on your neck, enjoying the way you were crumbling apart for him. How was he ever going to be away from you after this?

“Oh god yes.” You sighed, as his fingers curled hitting the spot, eyes rolling back. Seungcheol looked at you in awe.

“I apologise if I ever told you that it was annoying when you rolled your eyes.” He continued to push you over. “That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.”

“Yes yes yes.” You chanted not hearing him, too lost in your own pleasure building. Pleased with himself, Seungcheol finally put his thumb over your clit and that was all it took for you to cum all over his fingers with yet another silent scream.

Seungcheol let your hands go and sat back on his heels, admiring his artwork. Your chest heaved erratically like you had forgotten how to breathe, squeezing your tits, hands desperate to claw something. Hair sticking to your forehead, sweat running down your neck next to the bruises he marked, you were a vision to behold.

Seungcheol sucked his fingers clean, relishing the taste of you yet again. You stared at him wide eyed, curious.

“Have you never tasted yourself?”

You shook your head.

“Oh sweetheart.”

Seungcheol pushed his tracks down just a bit, enough to pull his dick out. It's not the longest you've seen but God was it thick, a stark vein running down the length which looked painfully hard. The thought of having him fill your mouth and choking around it literally made you drool.

He pumped it a few times before hooking his hands under your thighs and pulling you towards him with unsurprising ease. You scrambled to raise yourself up on your elbows, watching as he ran it up and down your slit, gathering your release on it.

“Come taste.”

You blinked at the man holding out his dick to you like it was a treat, like he expected you to crawl to him, stunned at just how cocky he had gotten in 20 minutes. Hell no.

You shook your head, tilting it in challenge.

“Come fuck my mouth.”

If Choi Seungcheol had a fatal flaw it was how much he desired control but right now, there was nothing he desired and craved more than you.

Moving over not so gracefully he aligned himself by your mouth, knees planted on either sides of your waist, looming over you.

You immediately wrapped your lips around his tip, humming at the weight on your tongue as he pushed your hair off your face softly.

“I know baby, you taste fucking divine.”

Giving him a half nod, running your tongue over his slit before hollowing your cheeks around him. The mix of your and his arousal indeed tasted….right, like they belonged together.

You tried to take in more of him but you might have underestimated his girth and overestimated your ability. Pulling back with a pop, you licked your lips.

“You're too thick.” Mumbling you tried to push him off you, onto his back. “Let me move over-”

“Oh no no.” Seungcheol clicked his tongue, grabbing the back of you neck, forcing you to look up at him. “It can't be that bad, someone claimed they could stack fruit loops on it.”

You rolled your eyes realising he was a bit too proud of himself. “I still can. I just don't have the cereal to prove it.”

“I'll buy some on the way back and when we go home that's the first thing you're going to do.” He wiped the spit leaking around the corner of your mouth with his free hand. “And if you don't manage to prove your point, that's grounds for punishment.”

You grinned at him.

“Oh you like that.” He hummed, guiding your head back to his cock. “We'll see how much of it you can take baby.”

A lot apparently.

Seungcheol should have known. You were like him - you didn't like to be challenged. That's why the moment he thrusted himself into your mouth, you held onto the back of his thighs with both hands, pushing it in a lot more than Seungcheol had thought you were capable of. Throwing his head back with a satisfied moan, he began moving his hips ever so little, slowly fucking your face, but you had other ideas, taking him as far back as you could, your throat constricting around his dick.

“Alright that's it.” Seungcheol pulled you off him, staring at your confused face. Somehow you had no gag reflex and Seungcheol suddenly had the endurance of a teenager. “Want to actually fuck you.”

He muttered drawing back, kicking off the remaining of his clothes and sitting up, trying to hide his breathlessness.

“Aw Cheol, was I right again?” You laughed, getting up and clambering onto his lap. “Is ten minutes really enough for you?”

“You'll see.” He pulled you into a deep kiss before abruptly breaking away, leaving you confused yet again. “Or not.”

“What?”

“I just realised… I don't have a condom.”

You waited for him to tell you he was kidding but he looked serious.

“Cheol….” He looked at you apologetically. “Ugh Choi Seungcheol, why not?!”

“One, don't call me that and two, I don't know, maybe because this was a work trip and the conference dress code didn't mention dick envelopes.”

You sighed annoyed. “I just always thought you'd carry one on you, xl sized.” You shot his overconfidence down before it even grew on him. “you know, for your head.”

“Oh because I'm a dick?” He rolled his eyes at the comment you had used on him too many times already. “Well, wouldn't that make you a little slut? Since you’ve been in love with me for so many years.”

“Who said I was in love with you?”

Seungcheol looked at you with the biggest, fucking cutest eyes. “Are you not?”

You smiled, surprisingly shy despite all that transpired so far. Honestly, you didn't have to answer that question. What you felt for each other was clear as day.

Putting a finger on his mouth, you whispered. “Less talking, more fucking please.”

Seungcheol groaned. “What do you want me to do? Go buy them now?”

“No…” You hated the thought of him leaving.

“Or…. I could pull out?”

“The last thing I trust in this world is your timing.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Besides, don't you want to be inside me when you cum? Squeezing you tight? Milking you dry?”

“Kinky.” Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, secretly delighted. “And shoot me if I ever say no to that, but you're not on birth control are you?”

“No…” You drawled. “But I can get plan b?”

“Baby, you realize how reckless this is-”

“I know.”

“-we've barely just-”

“I'm aware.”

“-plus your health-”

“Choi Seungcheol.” You pushed him back into the bed, annoyed. “Are you gonna fuck me or not? Because if you don't then I'm gonna do it myself and all you get is to watch-”

Seungcheol, tucked his arm under his head, looking like he liked that idea a little too much.

“-while I cum taking someone else's name.”

His eyes darkened as his hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you down to his eye level, “Try me sweetheart.”

“You know how I feel about challenges.”

“And you know how I feel about sharing what’s mine.”

“Then fuck me like I’m yours.”

Seungcheol smiled, dropping a soft kiss on your mouth, much in contrast to what followed. “Remember, you asked for this.”

One arm wrapped around your waist, he flipped you over, putting you below him once again, the hunger in his eyes burning a lot more now. As he shifted to push your legs apart, hand leaving your neck, a soft whine left you and Seungcheol caught it immediately.

“You’re into that too?” Seungcheol smirked as you frowned at him, annoyed.

“Apparently. I just found out as well.”

“I wonder what else you’re into.”

“You can wonder all you want, after you put that dick into me.”

Seungcheol clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “I don’t like how you think I’d listen.”

Yet before you could talk back, he slid his cock along your folds, the tip slightly dipping into your hole, pulling out the most exquisite moan from you.

“Now that’s something I’d listen to.” He pushed himself a little further, your hands immediately coming to grip his biceps, gasping again at just how big he was. Seungcheol had been dying to listen to you sound like this and god was it so worth it.

You attempted to relax, adjusting around his girth as he eased himself in, but gave up even trying to maintain the facade of composure when he bottomed out, pressing all the way in.

“Fuck yes Cheol.”

He hissed softly, feeling your soft walls flutter around him. He had never fucked anyone raw and after this, how was he expected to just not spend his whole life buried in you?

“Please, move.” You begged, and he folded immediately, his hips slowly picking up pace as he kissed you along your neck.

“We should have done this years ago.” He groaned, wrapping your legs around his hips, pounding faster, harder. “We should have been doing this for years now.”

You nodded half listening, half submerged in your pleasure, nails running down his back. “Let’s just never get out of this bed.”

Seungcheol chuckled, absolutely agreeing with that idea, snapping his hips faster, delighted by the way you were reacting under him.

He wanted to flip you around and take you from the back, mark your ass with the red prints of his hand. He wanted you sitting on him, fucking yourself on his dick while he watched, your head thrown back in pleasure. He wanted to eat you out till you cried, fuck your throat and make you swallow, pull every moan and every whine and ever chant of his name out of you. God he wanted so much but Seungcheol wasn't capable of any of those right now - he had been hard for almost an hour now and your grip around him was like a vice.

“Seungcheol more.” You whined, despite him already railing into you like there was no tomorrow. He still listened though, sliding his hand down between your bodies and finding you clit, well aware that you would probably go unbelievably tight the moment he touched it, rendering him absolutely helpless. Sure enough, you keened, clamping down on him hard the moment he began rubbing circles, a string of curses leaving your mouth.

“Cum for me.” He whispered, hips rutting against yours harshly, holding his own release back desperately. “Cum all over me.”

And you did, the pleasure washing over you in waves, legs tightening around him before they finally went slack, exhausted. Seungcheol pulled them off him, gripping your thighs instead, shifting from an erratic rhythm to quick, deep strokes as he finally came inside you, collapsing on top.

He was careful enough not to crush you under his weight, holding himself up a little so you could regain your breath, watching your eyes flutter tiredly.

“We need to get you cleaned up.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, glancing at your mixed arousals dripping out of you. “I don’t know how long the statute of limitations for ejaculate is….”

For the first time in your life, Choi Seungcheol had managed to turn you dumb, as you nodded mindlessly, not having registered the stupidity that just came out of him.

He chuckled, rolling off you, but you dragged him back by the wrist, wrapping your arms around him.

“Hold me.”

And as though the universe hated you, a sharp knock on the door made you two jump apart. Seungcheol still proceeded to hold you but the knocking only repeated, louder this time. He huffed annoyed, sliding off the bed, grabbing his shirt from the floor and threw it on. Opening the door just a little, half hiding behind it, lower half specifically, he peaked out but his plan was foiled when the receptionist pushed the door fully open and came barging in, throwing her hands around.

“Check out time was 12! You’re late-”

She froze as Seuncheol quickly covered himself with a towel from nearby and you scrambled in a hurry, hiding under the sheets, squirming in embarrassment.

The old woman slowly, still shocked to the core, muttered an apology and walked out of the room as Seungcheol smacked his head against the wall, regretting not wearing his pants.

“You…” She cleared her throat from the other side of the door. “You have till 2. Get it together and get out of my lodge.” She then walked away, the sound of her footsteps fading, before they suddenly got louder again. “I would also like to add that I knew this was going to happen from the moment you two stepped foot in here!”

You covered your face trying not to pass out from the embarrassment as Seungcheol locked the door laughing.

"Why does she sound so happy?"

“I cannot believe she saw us." You groaned. "Who walks in like that-”

“Who cares?” Seungcheol walked over to you. “I cannot believe we still have two more hours.”

“You’re not even ready to go again.” You looked pointedly at the softened dick in his hand that he was pumping lazily. “Besides, we're going to have to book the room again, for tonight.”

“2 hours isn’t enough for you? Oh baby-”

“Our flight is at 5am tomorrow you idiot, we still need a place for the night.”

“Right.” Seungcheol recalled, “I forgot we had to go… that this had to come to an end.”

“Nothing’s ending.” You clarified, putting a rest to his worries. “Didn’t you say, you and I, till the end?”

Seungcheol nodded as you held your hand out to him. He walked over taking it, dropping a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“Say.” And you knew an unholy thought was brewing in that head of his. “We have all this time and there are seven beds here.”

“I don’t care how many there are.” You laughed, pulling him into the softness of the sheets. “I only want one to share with you.”

A/n - this was supposed to be out a few hours ago but tumblr was being a bitch to me. Im adding the tags in the comments! Reblogs with tags, comments and asks are much appreciated, thank you for reading :)

[suzukiblu]

. . . anyway LISTEN I told 'yall November was gonna be "obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU" month, and I really did not INTEND to post my daily words for it again this year but also, like, fuck it, we ball. No promises I will update EVERY day this time around but again: fuck it, we ball. ( also uhhhhh I've been writing this fic kinda-sorta-semi out of order lately but there is still a significant chunk of word count I'd already written that I would've pre-gamed and posted YESTERDAY if I'd thought I was gonna be doing this, sooooo hope nobody minds us kickin' off the month with like an extra 5.9k on top of the 1.6k of obligatory sugar that I ACTUALLY wrote today behind this here cut? yes? no?? Bueller???? )

get sugared, Super-boytoy. Tim, you just . . . you just do your future-supervillain best over there, buddy. you just do what you can with yourself. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I wanted to,” Tim says again, and Kon glances away and bites his lip, turning the flowers by the stem again. 

“It’s, uh–pretty,” he says, then clears his throat. “I mean, it’s–cool. Thanks.” 

“If I can’t bring you fresh ones, well . . .” Tim shrugs. Kon glances back to him, and very briefly presses one of the orchid blooms against his own mouth. His face is still all flushed and his eyes are still a little soft, and it’s . . . it makes a picture, alright, even if it's not one Tim's specifically set up to take. Especially with the gold eyeliner and his blue eyes both matching the orchids. 

Tim didn't plan that, obviously, but he thinks it makes up for the sapphire versus ruby thing.

“Um . . .” Kon trails off, biting his lip. Glances down at the orchids from under his lashes. It doesn't make him any less of a picture, for sure. “So, um–do you wanna see the ‘something nice’ I got?” 

Tim blinks, immediately thinks of the most embarrassing option that Kon could possibly mean, and desperately tries to fight back a mortified flush at the idea. But, well–everything he can see Kon wearing is something he remembers buying him already, so . . . 

Oh god, he needs his brain to shut up right now. Immediately. Right now and immediately and forever. 

“Sure,” he says like a normal person, trying not to panic. “What is it?” 

Kon, thank god, pulls a little rectangular package inexplicably–and inexpertly–wrapped in newspaper comics out of the same coat pocket he tucked the jewelry box in. There's plain white string tied around it in a bow. 

Tim . . . blinks. 

If he didn't know better, he'd think Kon had . . . 

“I, um, got you something?” Kon says, and Tim stares blankly at the package. He–what? “For once, anyway. Well, I guess, uh, technically you got it for yourself, and actually this is kinda stupid maybe, you can literally just get yourself whatever you want whenever, obviously, but I just thought, uh–” 

“You got me something?” Tim repeats in surprise. Kon turns pink and shoves the package at him. Tim is too bewildered not to take it. 

“I thought it’d be, uh–fun,” he says, biting his lip and still very visibly blushing. “I mean–that we could have some fun with it. Y’know?” 

Tim stares at the package for another moment, then looks up at Kon. Alright, this maybe isn’t exactly the vibe he was going for here in terms of who’s paying for what and who’s giving things to who, but . . . well, Kon apparently used his allowance for whatever this is, at least, which gives him a reason to have wanted the allowance, so . . . he can work with that, he figures. Like, it’s an “in” to work from; a step in the process. 

He can’t tell what Kon’s gotten him from the shape of the package, though the edges are hard even though it doesn’t feel like it’s in a box or anything. “Have some fun” isn’t much of a clue, though he supposes it does imply something interactive. Maybe it’s a game of some kind, or–

Tim unties the bow and splits apart the clumsy seam of the comic-page wrapping paper with his thumb, tugging through its layers to reveal the package’s contents, and Kon flushes a little darker and watches him just a little bit nervously. 

Tim doesn’t actually know what to say. 

“I just thought, um, a real one’d probably take better pictures than a phone can,” Kon says sheepishly, slanting his eyes away and half-hiding his face behind the orchids. “I made sure the battery was charged and the guy at the store said it's got a lot of storage, I guess, so . . .” 

“You got me a camera,” Tim says blankly, which is the most bewildering possible thing that Kon could have gotten him short of, like . . . no, it’s pretty much just the most bewildering possible thing that Kon could have gotten him. By far it’s the most bewildering possible thing that Kon could have gotten him. 

“You like taking pictures, right?” Kon fidgets a little, then smiles just barely shyly as he glances back at him. Tim's heart skips a few beats. Or more than just “a few”, maybe. “So, um–I thought maybe we could go do that . . . somewhere. You know, after dinner.” 

“Oh,” Tim says, blinking at him a little stupidly. It’s not a particularly good camera, honestly–like, it’s a perfectly functional model for casual amateur use and a decently reliable commercial brand, but he’s got much better ones that are all professional-quality. He hasn’t used any of them in a while and most of them are admittedly a few years old now, but . . . yeah, this was a hundred bucks max, if that, and his cheapest camera was over five hundred. 

Note to self: raise Kon’s allowance. 

Also, apparently now his favorite camera is the kind of camera civilian amateurs just take random family photos on. Apparently that’s a thing. 

Tim really doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that Kon not only remembered something he mentioned having an interest in, Kon bothered to actually get him something he thought he’d have an interest in. That is really, really not the dynamic he’s been encouraging here, for one thing. And also, why even would Kon do that? Like–really? 

“Thanks,” Tim says sincerely, turning the camera over in his hands and feeling incredibly embarrassed about all of this. “I love it.” 

“Cool,” Kon says, biting his lip around a smile. His face is still a little pink and he looks all soft and pretty like that, especially with the flowers still in his hand. Tim really was not prepared for Kon having “soft and pretty” in his repertoire. Like, that was not a thing he ever expected to see from his cocky, crowing brawler of a teammate. 

Kon’s only a brawler because he thinks he’s supposed to be, though, Tim’s pretty sure. Like–increasingly sure, at this point. 

He really, really needs to figure out how to get Kon to tell Robin more about his TTK. Or, like . . . anything about it, apparently. Just literally any single thing, at this point. 

“Thank you,” he says again, inspecting the camera assessingly and making note of all its functions and ports and the generally obvious basics. “We could go take some shots around downtown later, if you’re up for that?” 

Kon turns bright red, and Tim doesn’t understand for about half a second before remembering–the last time Kon had talked to him about taking pictures, he’d offered . . . 

Oh Jesus. 

Tim is either incredibly stupid or–actually, he doesn’t even know. Lucky? Embarrassing? The dumbest moron alive who didn’t even realize he was being flirted with again? All those things and several even worse ones? 

Kon had offered to let him take spicy pics of him the last time they'd talked about taking pictures, whatever “spicy” means to Kon–brash, impulsive, shameless Kon–and Tim’s the idiot whose first thought upon Kon following up that conversation by very literally giving him a camera was to go take pictures of fucking downtown.

He is the most useless “sugar daddy” to ever sugar. 

Well, to be fair, it is Gotham downtown, so it’s very–

“I like taking pictures of streets and buildings,” he blurts belatedly, fumbling to sound like just the oblivious idiot that he is and not some kind of weird fucking perv who’s trying to get Kon arrested for public indecency. Jesus, he’s stupid. “And people-watching is interesting too. You know, stuff like that.” 

“Oh,” Kon says, and looks several ways at once, including both a little relieved and a little disheartened, which . . . okay, Tim would literally die if they actually went somewhere to take spicy pics tonight, so is unfortunately unavoidable. He’s not trying to make Kon not feel–attractive or anything, but he needs at least twenty-four hours to make a plan and also two or three or seventeen contingency plans before . . . anything like that happens. Ever. Even in theory. “Um–yeah, sure. That sounds cool.” 

“Cool,” Tim says, still desperately pretending to be an idiot. It’s not hard, on account of the fact that he very much is an idiot. 

Kon pauses for a moment, then perks up a little, seeming to think of something, and asks–“When’s dinner?” 

“Our reservation’s in forty-five minutes,” Tim says, double-checking the time on his phone just to be sure. “Well, forty-six. I figured that’d let us take our time walking over and maybe we could window-shop a little on the way.” 

And also shop-shop a lot, if Kon gives him literally even the slightest indication that he wants or needs something. Just if it comes up or anything. That’s all. 

Tim definitely did plan their route to the restaurant to cut straight through the middle of the downtown shopping district, either way. 

“We could’ve just met there, dude,” Kon says wryly, but grins anyway, glancing down at the orchids in his hand again. “Forty-six minutes, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Tim confirms. 

“And you like taking pictures of streets and buildings?” Kon asks, his grin turning just a little bit sly. Tim frowns briefly in confusion, not sure what the grin’s about. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Gotham has a lot of really interesting architecture and design. Like, it’s an old city, and one that’s been pretty resistant to updates in a lot of areas or just not had the money for those updates. So you get a lot of places with a lot of character and it’s basically the bastard child of gothic and art deco design with a side of industrial warehouse, depending on the part of town you’re in. Like, Crime Alley and the Diamond District have very different vibes, but they’re both very Gotham vibes, if you know what to look for. It’s–” 

Kon is grinning really widely at him, for some reason. Tim realizes he’s rambling like a moron and turns red. 

“Uh,” he says, repressing a wince. “Yes. Yeah. I like taking pictures of streets and buildings.” 

“Cool,” Kon says, and then he carefully packs the orchids back into their box and it back into the gift bag and transfers the chocolates and jewelry back into it too, then grins even wider at him as he hooks the bag’s handles over his arm and into the crook of his elbow. “Don’t drop the camera, babe.” 

“Wha–” Tim starts to say, and then Kon grabs him by the arm and pulls him into the closest alley, which is terrible survival instincts for Gotham, oh god, but before Tim can say anything about that Kon’s wrapped an arm around his waist just tight enough to just barely lift him off his feet and bolted straight up into the air with him. “Shit!”

Tim doesn’t drop the camera because he’s held onto cameras while falling off literal buildings before, but definitely only because of that. Muscle memory, or whatever. Also he’s been snatched off his feet by Bruce and Dick plenty of times and thrown off rooftops by multiple rogues and thugs over the years and these days gets regularly dragged around by Bart, all while holding very important things he could not afford to drop, so it’s not like either the sudden jolt or the effort to keep his grip on the camera are as disorienting as it otherwise would be. Just . . . 

Ugh, Tim realizes, absolutely unimpressed with himself upon realizing that the breathless feeling he’s having right now is not actually related to the swift and sudden increase in altitude, but is actually just because it’s Kon holding him. 

He is an idiot, isn’t he, he reflects resignedly. Just an actual literal idiot. 

Jesus. 

“Whatcha think?” Kon asks with a grin as he comes to a stop in mid-air with him. He stops very suddenly, but Tim notices a distinct lack of jarring with said stop, which implies Kon’s got his TTK around him again and probably completely around him, which means–

Oh god, Tim thinks, and very quickly makes himself stop thinking about that. 

“It’s cool,” he says, because a normal civilian would think flying was something interesting and unusual, but it’s hard to act too excited about a move Kon probably pulls on literally everyone he–

“I meant the view, babe!” Kon says with a laugh, and Tim . . . blinks. 

And then he looks down. 

They’re hovering a few thousand feet up, and downtown is already lit up bright in the early evening gloom. And Kon . . . 

“Streets and buildings, as ordered,” Kon says, grinning wider with a smug, cocky look on his face. 

Oh no, he’s hot, Tim realizes with dread, and then blinks again. Stares down at the city below, past the whipping wind and down into the busy streets and the bright, dazzling lights cutting through the murky gloom. He’s seen Gotham like this a thousand times, obviously, because of course he has–he’s been climbing these rooftops for years, and every night he runs across and swings back and forth between them and utterly fails to learn how to do more than a double backflip. 

One day, he promises himself distractedly, and then looks back at Kon. 

He’s seen Gotham like this a thousand times, but never just because someone thought he’d like it. Like–not like this, he means. Dick's shown him a few particularly special or exhilarating views over the years, yeah, but . . . definitely not like this. Not for a reason like this. 

And definitely not while peacocking all smug and pretty dressed up in clothes that he bought him and holding him close enough to kiss. 

Kon’s expression turns a little sheepish; a little soft. Not quite shy, but . . . 

“Do you like it?” he asks, his voice pitched a little quieter, and Tim has the much worse and even more dread-inducing realization of oh no, he’s CUTE.

He swallows, briefly, and feels his face burn. 

“Yeah,” he manages in an almost-normal voice. “I like it.” 

Kon grins at him, brighter than any city light, and Tim barely keeps himself from dropping the camera after all. 

“Thanks,” he attempts awkwardly, making himself focus on the camera and resisting the urge to take an immediate shot of that city-light grin. 

Then he takes one anyway, because of course he does. Kon laughs in surprise, then makes a face at him teasingly. 

“Hey, you can buy this face in any cheap gossip rag, focus on the fun stuff,” he jokes, jerking his head towards the city below. Tim looks searchingly at him for a moment, and then for obvious reasons snaps another picture. Kon flushes a little again. They probably won't even come out from this close, but . . . 

“You’re the most fun I’ve had all week,” Tim says, which is definitely too honest but clearly necessary to make a point of saying. Kon turns redder, ducking his head and grinning around his bitten lip. 

“You don’t have to say that kind of thing to me, man,” he says, and it comes across almost like a reflex. Tim hates . . . yeah, just literally everybody Kon’s ever known in his whole entire life, actually? Like, pretty much everybody? Bart gets a break because he grew up alone in VR and is therefore terrible with people and the girls get a break because they haven’t known any of them that long, but everybody else can just take a long walk off a short gutter, in Tim’s opinion. 

Especially any “everybody” from Cadmus. 

Or Metropolis, at this point. 

“I’m not saying anything I don’t want to say,” he says simply, and goes to the effort to frame a few shots of the skyline so Kon will know he appreciates . . . well, not the angle, exactly, but the thought. 

Technically he is usually on top of a building when he’s doing this, so the angle is actually a slightly different one than he’s used to–not that he’s been taking photos lately, just–not the point, really. Kon got him a camera and brought him up here because he clearly thought he’d like it, and damned if Tim is gonna do anything to make him think he doesn’t. 

He has better cameras for things like this–aerial shots and night photography and long-distance and the like, and better cameras for closeup candids too–but he already knows these pictures are all going to be exactly what he wants them to be, even the ones that don't come out. 

Or especially those, maybe. 

He's not sure how he'd explain that feeling to someone else. 

Kon flies them around, staying out of sight behind the light pollution and among the shadows of the buildings, and Tim takes . . . a lot more pictures than he needs to, actually. He was just trying to make sure Kon knew he appreciated him thinking of him, but actually . . . 

Well. 

It’s fun, that’s all. 

It’s . . . been a while, kinda, since he got to spend this much time on just photography and nothing else. Or–any time at all, really. 

Not that this is nothing else, obviously, given that Kon’s holding him and it is very, very hard to concentrate on anything besides that, but it is the kind of a view a standard civilian never gets, and it’s kind of nice to be flying for non-work-related reasons, for once. Like . . . novel, he guesses. A different experience. 

Technically he and Dick do “fly” together just for fun, sometimes, but that’s different. Like–so many kinds of different. It helps them in their work–keeps the rooftops familiar and them both in shape and in sync–but he can’t take photos when he’s trying to keep up with Nightwing across the rooftops of Gotham, and it’s not like Dick’s carrying him either. 

Also, it’s much less flustering and difficult to concentrate through, because again, Dick is not carrying him, and also Dick doesn’t do things like wear clothes he bought or do his eyeliner and paint his nails for him. Or, uh . . . anything like that. 

Also, definitely the “spicy pics” thing is not at all a thing, with Dick. Like, not even slightly, in any way whatsoever. And they’ve also never made out in a changing room or the back of a planetarium or– 

Look, there’s a lot of ways it’s different, okay? 

A lot of ways. 

“I'm not boring you, am I?” Tim asks a little bit sheepishly as Kon lands them on a ledge just behind one of the bigger gargoyles, tucked in tight in the shadows between it and the building it's perched on. “We can probably still fit in some window-shopping before dinner, if you want.” 

“Oh my god, dude, I promise we can do things you don't have to spend money on,” Kon says with a laugh as he lets him down on the ledge. “Though if it helps you technically did spend money on this, given how I got the camera and all.” 

“It's your allowance,” Tim says, because he wants to make sure Kon actually gets that. “You can spend it however you want.” 

“Well, I spent it how I wanted,” Kon says, and then steps closer into his space with a smile. Tim ends up sitting on the gargoyle’s back as Kon leans down to kiss him, and it's not like he's never kissed anyone while perched on a gargoyle before, but somehow it feels like something new anyway. New and electric, bright and easy and smeared with the city lights and thrilling in its shadows, and– 

Kon breaks off the kiss, though he keeps a hand on Tim’s arm, probably to make sure the squishy untrained civilian won't accidentally fall off the ledge and get splatted on the concrete. Tim barely holds himself back from chasing his mouth. 

“It's cool, anyway. Um, doing stuff you're into with you, I mean,” Kon says, looking a little soft and almost-shy again, and never mind, Tim not only needs to chase his mouth, he needs to set up a damn manhunt for it. “You're real cute when you get excited, man. I mean, uh–just–” 

The manhunt is going to require a very significant budget, Tim notes. 

Then he kisses him again, obviously. Kon melts down into it–into him, really–and wraps his arms around his neck, and Tim feels several kind of ways about it. Admittedly, it's the easier option with him sitting on the gargoyle and Kon leaning over him, but Kon's put his arms around his neck a couple of times now, and, well . . . 

That's just not something he would've expected from him, he guesses. Not “cool” or masculine or badass or . . . whatever, exactly, Kon thinks he's supposed to be. 

So Tim . . . likes it, he thinks, that Kon doesn't seem to think he needs to be like that around Tim Drake. 

Robin’s sure as hell never seen Kon in eyeliner. 

Robin's loss, Tim thinks. 

. . . maybe he's compartmentalizing a little too much these days, but still. 

Kon makes a very, very soft little sound between their mouths and then laughs, and Tim promises himself he won't stop at Gotham: he'll take over Metropolis for this asshole one day. Even if that means putting up with Lex Luthor and Superman. And also, like . . . everything about Metropolis. 

He'll figure it out. Supervillainy is still a long-term plan, so he's got time. 

Anyway, if he gives it to Kon after he takes it over he won't have to put up with it, so it's whatever. Sugar daddies do that kind of thing, right? Get their sugar-ees a city? 

. . . okay, definitely not. Like, very definitely not. 

“Okay date idea, then?” Kon asks as he leans back a bit and does a very bad job of biting back a smile, his face a little flushed and arms squeezing a little tighter around his neck. 

Tim will get him Metropolis if it kills Lex Luthor. 

“Very okay,” he says, smiling back at him. Kon grins, his face turning just a little bit redder, and then kisses him again. Tim has absolutely no complaints about that. Ever. He can’t even imagine a complaint he’d have about that, in fact. 

Worst case scenario, he’ll get them in at another restaurant if they miss their reservation. 

He really doesn't know what else he's supposed to do about how easy Kon blushes. 

They definitely spend too long making out against the gargoyle and Tim definitely lets himself get too riled up during it–and does not think about tactile telekinesis or any kind of related passive perception while he does–but by the time he’s the one pressing Kon back against the building, he really doesn’t care anymore. 

The fact Kon is even willing to let him do that when there is literally no way Tim could ever actually pin him anywhere without a way to sabotage his powers is . . . really, really distracting. Just–so distracting. 

Jesus, Tim thinks, breaking off just long enough to catch his breath for a moment. Kon pants softly against his mouth, which sabotages that even worse than kryptonite would sabotage TTK. 

Jesus, Tim thinks again, and then crushes their mouths back together. 

He doesn’t need to breathe that often. 

Kon makes a softer, breathier sound this time, and Tim does not let himself make it weird by letting his hands wander anywhere outside of second base territory. Frankly he’s not sure second base territory isn’t him making it weird, but Kon started it, so hopefully it’s not? Like–logically it’d follow that Kon wouldn’t touch him anywhere he doesn’t want touched, right? 

Well–hopefully, anyway. 

The air feels tight, Tim notices suddenly, like the feeling of sinking into deeper pressure when underwater but all at once, and then realizes–oh. 

Uh. 

Okay. 

“Um,” he says, and immediately the feeling of pressure vanishes as Kon jerks back and claps a hand over his own mouth. Which is mostly him pushing Tim back, given their position, but he does crack the brickwork behind him a little. 

Whoops, Tim thinks. 

“Sorry!” Kon blurts. “Sorry, sorry, that’s–sorry! I just, uh–got a little too into it. I won’t do it again.” 

“It’s really not a problem,” Tim says, with absolutely no idea how to take the idea of Kon getting “a little too into it” when kissing him, or the idea that getting a little too into it apparently involves getting wrapped up in TTK a lot more noticeably than making him bulletproof at the museum did. “I mean–it didn’t hurt or anything, I was just surprised.” 

“I–yeah, I know, it’s just–weird,” Kon says, still looking mortified. “So–sorry. That’s all.” 

“I don’t mind weird,” Tim says, because actually the idea of being temporarily at least as invulnerable as Kon is while making out with him implies being able to devote a lot more attention to said making out, as opposed to keeping half an eye out for snipers or rogues or random rooftop criminals. Not that he’d stop paying any attention to that, obviously, just–yeah. Well. 

It’s a little tempting, that’s all. 

“Uh–you don’t?” Kon bites his lip, still looking a little embarrassed. 

“It kind of just felt like scuba-diving, but with less equipment involved,” Tim says with a little shrug, keeping his tone light because “seriously, you have no idea how much I’d like to not be compulsively keeping an eye out for snipers right now” isn’t a very “civilian” thing to say. “And I’m not about to complain about you enjoying kissing me that much either way.” 

“Oh,” Kon says, and flushes a little. “Uh–really?” 

“Really,” Tim says, smiling at him again and tugging gently at the lapels of his jacket to pull himself back in. Kon blushes, and grins, and meets him halfway for the kiss. The sensation of pressure wraps him up again, gentle but undeniable, and Tim feels several kinds of ways about it. 

Maybe even a little bit safe, or at least as safe as anyplace outside the Batcave ever gets. 

Tim knows there’s no such thing as being perfectly, completely safe, but getting all wrapped up in Kon’s TTK and kissed for it makes it hard to remember that. 

Very, very hard. 

They spend a much longer time making out this time. Tim is vaguely aware that they still have a dinner reservation to make, but . . . well, he did pad the time to allow for window-shopping, so even with the time they spent flying around taking pictures, it's probably fine? 

Yeah, no, they’ve definitely missed their reservation by now. Probably way past missed it. Just so, so far past missed it. 

Weirdly, Tim doesn’t care as much as he should, even though he really prefers when things go to plan and also needs Kon to feel appreciated and like he got properly spoiled and taken someplace nice. He’s going to have to figure out something else on the fly, though, because he really does needs Kon to feel appreciated and also needs the excuse to get him more used to getting money spent on him and–

Tim remembers that he needs to breathe more than he's currently breathing and breaks off the kiss. Kon half-chases his mouth with his own, audibly breathless himself. Tim is not equipped to handle Kon breathless. 

That might actually be more flattering than the TTK thing. Or, uh–flustering, maybe. 

Both, maybe. “Both” is probably accurate here. 

Jesus, Tim does not know what he did to deserve Kon getting breathless over something he’s done to him, much less all soft and pretty and–

They have definitely, definitely missed their reservation. Usually Tim has a better sense of time than that, but usually Tim doesn’t have Kon wanting to make out on a Gotham rooftop with him, Like, he thinks he can forgive himself a little bit of disorientation on that one, considering. 

. . . as long as Bruce never finds out he messed up that bad, anyway. Because Bruce would definitely not like hearing he’d messed up that bad, TTK or not. 

Probably especially involving the TTK, actually. Probably Bruce would not take ��yeah I let Superboy get distracted enough to unconsciously wrap me up in his Kryptonian-level superpowers while he wasn’t in full control of them and actually, like, encouraged it, kinda? like, explicitly encouraged it, actually”. 

Yeah, Bruce would not like that. 

“Um,” Tim says, and clears his throat a little awkwardly. “So, uh–hungry yet?” 

“You could say that,” Kon murmurs, then flashes him a sharp, wicked grin with his eyes slit open just enough to fix on Tim’s mouth. Tim spares a moment to compartmentalize just enough to not lose his mind about that, then makes the mistake of licking his lips anxiously, sees Kon’s hooded eyes go hot at the sight, and immediately fails to not lose his mind. 

“Uh,” he manages, and then decides they don’t really need to get dinner just yet and maybe they could just, like–no, no, Kon is definitely not getting enough calories from that stupid barely-legal underground lab’s stupid definitely-not-health-code-compliant cafeteria, Tim is not gonna be a bad enough date to not get his date a respectable amount of calories. That is just not a thing that he’s gonna, like . . . thing, as a thing. Or whatever. 

Not like Superman’s been bringing Kon casseroles or anything, the prick. 

“Um, I–uh, might’ve let us get a little too distracted, sorry,” Tim attempts after a moment of mental fumbling, making himself push back from Kon a little and pulling his phone out to check the time. Yeah, they have definitely missed their reservation. Very, very thoroughly have they missed it. 

Dammit. That is not Bat-quality situational awareness. 

“You think that was just you, man?” Kon asks with a little laugh, just barely ducking his head and biting his lip. It is . . . very distracting. As is his face. And his hands, which are still loosely on Tim’s back, and his TTK, which is still loosely . . . basically everywhere, yeah. Just–way too many places for Tim to be rational about, basically. 

“I mean, I was the one who made the reservation,” he says, clearing his throat awkwardly as he does his best to at least fake rationality. “So, uh, I should’ve been paying attention to the time. I can see if there’s someplace we can still slip in, it’s a little last-minute for a Friday but–” 

Kon kisses him again. 

Tim was saying something, he’s reasonably sure, but he couldn’t remember whatever it was with a gun to his head. A gun to his head while out of his suit and without Kon on the same floor as him, to be clear. 

Kon leans back and grins at him, all bright and pretty and cutting right through the shade and shadows of Gotham like a spotlight-signal lighting up the cloud cover. Tim remains vaguely aware of the fact that he was doing . . . something. At some point. In theory. 

God, Kon is so pretty. So, so pretty. And everything he’s wearing is something Tim bought him, coat and clothes and jewelry and all. Just–all of it, as far as he can see. 

Tim does not let himself think about what else Kon might or might not be wearing right now. Just–that way lies madness, and also Kon not getting a decent dinner and decent spoiling. 

. . . there’s probably some other ways Tim could spoil him, technically, if he just– 

Tim does not finish that thought. 

“You’re so fucking cute, daddy,” Kon says, still grinning just as signal-bright and pretty at him. Tim is not prepared for literally any of that and nearly melts right off the ledge into an incoherent mess of street pizza. 

“Uh,” he says, swallowing roughly. “We should–are you hungry yet?” 

Kon laughs, for some reason. Tim very quietly and carefully burns alive, and then Kon floats up a few inches and ducks around him and back out into the open air, leaning down to grin at him and reaching to–probably he’s intending to pick him up again, Tim’s brain is vaguely aware, but the rest of Tim is thinking more like hurr durr pretty boy, which is definitely why he ends up reaching up to cup Kon’s face in his hands and tug him down for another kiss, pushing himself up on his toes on the edge of the ledge to reach him easier. Kon makes a soft, breathless little noise, then laughs in delight and kisses him back. 

The wind is cold and sharp and the evening sky is all heavy dark clouds and hazy light pollution and Kon’s wearing clothes Tim bought him, some of which Tim even suggested to him, and he put on makeup and painted his nails to come see him and he’s got a gift bag of little things Tim picked out for him hooked in the crook of his elbow and he liked all of those little things, and they’ve not only missed but obliterated their dinner reservation, and they’re half-on a ledge high above the street and kissing and Kon is just so pretty.

And Kon also bought him a camera and brought him up here because he thought he’d like it and called him “cute”, which are all facts that Tim is definitely going to have to compartmentalize to fully process later, or else he really will melt right off the stupid ledge. 

The spicy pics thing, also, is a thing. The spicy pics thing is, uh–very much a thing. 

Tim is maybe just never gonna process that particular fact in, like, self-defense. 

Ever. 

. . . god, he’s going to have to process that fact at some point, isn’t he. God. That is . . . that is a whole thing that he is going to have to do. Like, effectively and well and throughly.

Maybe it’s not too late to just go supervillain right now, actually. Maybe Kon would be open to, like, minionhood or something. Lots of supervillains put their minions up in their lairs, right? That’s totally a thing, isn’t it? 

Ugh, no, Kon deserves a place he can really feel like is his place and also he has not laid near enough groundwork to get Dick to switch sides. Like, Alfred would, obviously. Alfred will be on-board the second the rusty crowbar and shrapnel bomb plan comes up and will probably have useful notes to add. But Dick is gonna require some more long-term finessing and Babs definitely won’t come if Dick doesn’t and– 

Kon laughs into the kiss and cups Tim’s face in return, which is incredibly distracting, and then squishes his face, which is incredibly annoying. 

“Hey!” Tim sputters, and Kon laughs again and leans back just enough to grin at him. 

“You are so weird, dude,” he says. “I can literally hear you thinking.” 

“. . . that’s not me being detached from the situation, I–” Tim starts, unable to repress a wince, and Kon just grins wider, grabs his wrists, and tugs him off the ledge and–oh, okay, that’s a weird sensation, Tim notes, because gravity does absolutely nothing at all to him until Kon’s pulled him into his arms and wrapped him up in them again all easy and secure. . 

So that’s . . . yeah, no, “incredibly distracting” isn’t actually gonna cover this one, considering. 

“Uh,” he says, blinking a couple of times. That. That is definitely not how Superboy holds Robin. 

Frick. 

“I just gotta keep you better attached, right, daddy?” Kon purrs–really purrs, his chest briefly vibrating against Tim’s–and then grins wider at him again with eyes that are, unfortunately, literally goddamn sparkling right now–thanks, gold eyeliner, Tim didn’t need those higher thought processes–before giving him another quick little kiss that Tim actually would like to turn into a four-hour make-out session and maybe also a sleepover and–

God he needs to remember how to compartmentalize. He really, really needs to remember how to compartmentalize. 

Also he needs to kiss Kon’s literal friggin’ brains out, the smug friggin’ asshole.

Mid-air makeouts are the worst possible idea Kon has ever inflicted on him and Tim would sooner fight Killer Croc without his utility belt than point that fact out to him. 

He winds his arms around Kon’s neck and kisses him back, and Kon makes this tiny little–not pleased, not content, but actually happy-sounding noise and kisses back harder. Tim feels gravity stop being a particularly relevant concern again and feels like he’s floating in deep, heavy water but also like he’s the lightest he’s ever been in his life, and it is . . . it is a feeling, alright. 

Kon is a menace. Kon is a problem. 

Kon is so, so damn cute. 

“You are an actual literal brat, baby,” Tim mutters slightly more feelingly than he means to, and Kon’s laugh comes out a little breathier this time and he ducks his head to the side and his face flushes and–

No. Nope. No. Tim needs to not learn anything new about himself or Kon tonight, or, worse, anything about him and Kon. That is just not a thing he has time for in his schedule. He’s got to fit in an anxiety attack and three full files’ worth of casework this weekend, for one, plus his science presentation and that make-up book report, and also come up with someplace else nice enough to take Kon to dinner tonight. 

“So, uh–dinner?” he says very quickly–self-defense, again–and Kon bites his lower lip and grins around it, his face still turned just a little bit away. Tim pretends they’re not effectively pressed together from knee to neck right now. Pretends valiantly. “I mean–um, if you’re hungry yet.” 

Kon laughs, ducking his head lower, the dangling gold teardrop hanging from his ear gleaming warmly in the murky electric city light. Tim goes through multiple stages of emotional processing to keep himself from kissing his neck right behind that earring and completely forgetting about not only dinner, but all his homework and casework and even the anxiety attack. 

Does Kon laugh this much around Robin? 

Tim really doesn’t feel like he does. 

He also doesn’t tell Robin very important things like the fact that he can make other people bulletproof on a whim and map out an entire mall just by standing in it, which is objectively much worse and potentially dangerous a thing not to do, but also Tim is already positive he’s going to miss that laugh like crazy every time he sees Kon with the mask on. 

Robin doesn’t get to see Kon like this at all, even when he lets the asshole eat both stupid boxes of cinnamon bread. 

“Dinner, yeah,” Kon says, grinning again and then taking off backwards across the sky, apparently unconcerned about their chances of hitting a building. Tim’s not really in a proper carry so much as just stretched out against him and wrapped up in his arms, but given the nature of how Kon’s powers work, an actual carry is obivously not really a concern, so . . . 

Oh, Tim realizes as Kon tips back just enough to be reclining in the air, still flying without any apparent care or concern for the aerodynamics of the situation or anything but staying more or less out of view of anyone on the street below. 

Avoiding the street view is good. 

The part where now he’s essentially laying on top of Kon is . . . less good, maybe. 

Maybe he won’t have to convince Kon to go supervillain, at least. Maybe Kon’s already there. 

“Where to, daddy?” Kon asks with a smirk, keeping one arm looped around Tim’s waist and folding the other behind his own head like he’s laying out in a lounge chair on the beach. Tim thinks longingly of smothering him and also of getting him to take down his TTK so he could bite a hickey or five into his neck. Maybe six. He could probably do six. 

Or seven. 

“Northeast towards Broad Street,” Tim says as he tips his head in the appropriate direction, then pulls up the camera again and snaps a quick shot of Kon’s smug smirk, which immediately breaks into a surprised laugh as the other flushes again. 

He takes a picture of that too. 

“You flirtin’ again already, man?” Kon asks with a sheepish little laugh, like the bastard has any room to talk. 

“The position’s pretty good for it, that’s all,” Tim says with a level of casualness he absolutely does not feel. Kon flushes darker and bites his lip again, still just barely grinning. Tim, ethically, has no choice but to take a few more pictures. 

“Oh my god,” Kon says, laughing again and unfolding the arm he has tucked behind his head to hide his eyes behind instead. Tim is maybe a little bit too aware of the line of his throat under the neck of his shirt, without his eyes and the sparkle there to be distracting him into a useless stupid mushbrained might-as-well-be-a-civilian, observationally-speaking. “I’m not a building, you absolute nerd!” 

“I said I liked people-watching too, didn’t I?” Tim points out reasonably, though mostly his brain’s occupied with the question of–“Hey. If you let down your TTK a bit, could a baseline-DNA human give you a hickey? Like, is that physically possible, or are you too Kryptonian for that?” 

“Oh my god,” Kon repeats, laughing harder even as the flush on his face spreads down his neck. Tim wonders how warm that might feel under his mouth. “I, uh–dunno, man. Maybe?” 

Tim silently resolves himself to finding literally any excuse to conduct that experiment and moves a hand to cup the side of Kon’s throat, eyeing it consideringly. Kon makes a slightly weird noise and visibly swallows, and Tim belatedly realizes that he’s paid literally no attention whatsoever to whether or not they’re about to hit a building or a flagpole or a roof this entire flight; he just assumed Kon had it handled. The Bat-paranoia kicks in and he glances up reflexively, and just as reflexively slides the pad of his thumb across Kon’s pulse. Their flight path is clear; they’re high enough to avoid most of the buildings in this area. Definitely still gonna need to keep an eye out for radio towers and billboards, but . . . 

Kon swallows again, the gesture a little bit rough this time. Tim feels the other’s throat flex against his palm. That sure is . . . that sure is a thing that Tim feels right there. That invulnerable throat flexing right there against his palm, and maybe not necessarily having to be invulnerable, if Kon didn’t want it to be. 

. . . . . . he already said he didn’t have time to learn anything new about himself tonight, dammit.

[jjunieworld]

the great bake off! ༘ ˚· 🍞 𓂅

read part two here ⇢ spilt milk ⋆｡˚

pairing: choi soobin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, bakery au, baker!soobin and non-baker!reader, “competing”, slight banter, brief mention of blood, some sexual innuendos, soobin is super shy

synopsis: after getting fired from your job as a pizza delivery driver, you’re in desperate need to find a new job before you get kicked out of your apartment. that’s when you hear about the local bakery looking for employees. thinking, “why not? i’ve worked with dough before!”, you apply and actually get the job. that’s when you and the son of the bakery’s owner decide that it would be fun to compete to see who can make the most baked goods for a prize.

word count: 8.6k┊part two┊masterlist

a/n: i’m a little late, but thank you all so much for 100 followers! here’s a little treat (lmao) expressing my gratitude! finally joining everyone in making a baker!soobin fic lmao… i got carried away so this is pretty long. i don’t even think it counts as a oneshot anymore but i hope you enjoy :) shoutout to the lovely @jjunberry for the florist!sunoo agenda ❀

“and don’t come back!” yelled the manager of the job you just got fired from. you took your apron and hat off and threw them on the ground in front of the establishment. you scoffed loudly, noticing the passing stares of the people walking outside and the judging ones of the customers inside.

“wouldn’t fucking dream of it!” you yelled back. the manager stepped back out of the doorframe, eyes wide, lip curled, and brows scrunched ready to retort. you cut him off with a middle finger and turned, angrily walking away to where your car was.

you didn’t need that stupid pizza delivery job anyways. half the time you weren’t even delivering pizzas because of how shitty they tasted. which wasn’t a fault of you, but a fault of your manager, who was also the owner.

majority of the time he had you in the back doing his job, making the pizzas, while he sat in the break room watching alpha male videos on his phone.

you slammed your door shut and rubbed at your temples. you had a tension headache and you couldn’t think.

“fuck!” you yelled loudly. what are you going to do now? you need a job so you can pay the rent of your shitty overpriced apartment. and you just knew you weren’t getting your last paycheck from your ex-manager.

sighing, you pull out of the parking lot next to the pizza place and head back to your apartment. you desperately needed a shower and to start job hunting as soon as possible.

you push open the door of your apartment and take a look around, thankful that you cleaned before you left. it was small, but it was home.

after your shower, you got a call from your best friend.

“what a fucking asshole!” sunoo exclaimed. you propped your phone up on the roll of paper towels as you began making something to eat. “but now you can come work with me!”

your face scrunched up. “i’d rather get evicted. love you though!” sunoo was a florist. there wasn’t anything wrong with that, but you could barely tell a daisy apart from a daffodil. and the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of different flower smells gave you another headache.

sunoo rolled his eyes. “fine then!” on your phone screen he raised his hands up and took a step back from the camera. “be broke then! don’t come crying to me when you’re out on the streets in the pouring rain waiting on a miracle when i’m offering you one right now!” you laughed at him.

“whatever! working with you is my last option though.” you put a pot of water on the stove for ramen. you really didn’t feel like making something elaborate after the day you had. “help me, sunoo! start listing off available jobs!”

he raised his eyebrow at you, “what makes you think i know what jobs are available and what jobs aren’t? go on google!” you rolled your eyes at him. he chuckled at you. “i did hear that that bakery downtown was looking for new employees, though.”

you raised your eyebrows at him, an ‘i told you so!’ smile on your face. he just rolled his eyes at you. “are they? i’ll have to call them. that’s a job for tomorrow y/n, though. i am so fucking tired.”

“i’d be tired too if i acted like a menace everyday,” sunoo replied. you shot him a look. “i do not act like a menace!”

“this is your second job in like three months… who are you? trish from austin and ally?” you gasped, putting a hand to your chest in somewhat fake shock. at least trish got a new job easily. it took you forever to find that pizza place job, and even longer for you to actually start working. you very nearly actually almost did get evicted if sunoo hadn’t stepped in and helped you.

“goodbye! i love you!” you said and leaned on the counter towards the counter. sunoo gave the camera a kiss and you jumped away in mock disgust. “bye, i love you!”

you ended your call and sat down to eat the ramen you made. sighing, you shoveled the noodles into your mouth. you really hoped that you got hired at this bakery. you didn’t know what you were gonna do if you don’t.

the next day you were up bright and early in the morning ready to call the bakery. you scoured google to see what the number was and after a couple misdirects you finally found it. your hands shook slightly as you pressed the phone to your ear and listened to the rings.

“hello, nap of a star bakery! if you are calling for a custom pie, orders will be pushed until next week!” a deep voice said over the line. your eyebrows raised slightly in shock and you hesitated for a moment as you thought of your next words.

“hello! i was actually calling to ask if you were hiring,” you replied. there was slight shuffling on the phone. “hello! yes, we are! have you picked up an application from the bakery? i can also email you a pdf version of it if you choose.”

you thought for a moment. it couldn’t hurt to go down and actually check the place out before deciding to work there. you did not need another repeat of the arcade job again.

“that’s okay! i can come down to the bakery for it!” the voice gave you an, “okay, have a good day!” and you hung up the phone after repeating them. you got your things together and left your apartment.

it took you a good minute to find the bakery. sunoo even had to text you directions. you recalled that the bakery was new and local. it was tucked away in between two buildings on the corner of the street. you parked your car and stepped your way towards the door.

the bell above the door rang as you pushed it open and stepped inside. behind the counter, a very tall dark-haired guy stood covered in flour rolling dough in a bowl. his head snapped up at the sound and a friendly smile plastered on his face. he pulled the gloves off and sat them next to the bowl. then he came up to where the cash register and a monitor were.

“hello! how may i help you?” he asked, rolling up his falling sleeves.

you took a look around the establishment. it was actually very nice. behind him, a chalkboard of everything their selling was written in an array of different colors. different baked goods were on display under the counter where the guy stood. there was also a door behind him to the back. natural light filtered in from the big windows at the front of the shop, highlighting the light minty colored walls and hanging stars. wooden tables and chairs with quilted seat covers tied to them were scattered around the open space. the overhead lighting was subtle and not harsh like so many other bakeries were. all in all, the bakery was very cozy.

“hi,” you smiled, “i called here not too long ago. about the applications?” his face lit up in realization and his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. he started to move around the counter.

“ah, yes! the applications! i can get you a pen if you want to fill it out here?” he asked as he grabbed the application from one of the tables near the door and turned to hand it to you. “assuming you brought your resume…” he then trailed off, a shy smile on his lips.

thankfully you did bring your resume. you took the application from him. “i did, actually, thank you!” he nodded slightly to himself and he walked back over to the counter and grabbed a pen from a cup next to the keyboard. he handed that to you as well. “here you go!”

you sat at one of the tables a little ways away from the counter. customers began filing in for orders as you filled the application out. all the motion was distracting you and you couldn’t help watching the dark-haired guy work.

he seemed to move fluidly from taking an order, pressing it all into the monitor, and either retrieving it from the back or display. you didn’t even realize he was also making more things while taking and completing orders until you saw him furiously trying to get the flour off himself when there were no customers around. you giggle lowly to yourself and finally finished filling the application out.

his back was turned to you as you walked up to the counter. he was still trying to get the flour off of him but was spreading it all over his clothes and apron instead. “uh, i finished the application,” you said softly. he jumped and quickly turned to you, an embarrassed smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

you stacked your resume with the application and handed it to him with the pen on top. he took it from you and sat it next to the keyboard.

you got the chance to get a look at his name tag attached to his brown and mint apron. the pretty signature with a shooting star next to it told you that his name was soobin. you got a good look at his face. he was quite pretty, even covered in flour.

he laid his hands flat on the counter and leaned towards you slightly. “okay, so your application will get registered and we should be with you within the week!” he told you, giving you another friendly smile. you returned it. “thank you!”

“have a good day!” you shot his words back to him and left the bakery, making your way to your car.

it was torture waiting for the email to know if you got the job or not. you were sitting in the chair behind the counter at chaconne, the flower shop that sunoo worked at, eyes glued to your phone as you kept refreshing your inbox.

“refreshing your inbox every five seconds isn’t going to make the email appear faster.” sunoo said as he arranged different flowers into a bouquet.

you sighed and slouched in the chair. you guess he was right. it’s only been a couple of days and it seemed like soobin was the only employee.

after sunoo wrapped the flowers and tied it off, he turned to you. today was a slow day in the shop, hence why you were behind the counter. not that sunoo’s boss minded, mrs. jeon loves you.

“so… anyone cute working at the bakery?” he asked, smirking. you looked up from your phone and chuckled. “there’s only one employee, at least i think. he was cute, in fact!” you replied. sunoo’s face lit up.

you tilted your head at him, you knew that look. that was his matchmaking look. “absolutely not,” you quickly said before he could open his mouth. “i need to keep this job if i do get it.” he brought his shoulders up.

“it’s gonna happen anyways. what else are the both of you to do in there together except get to know each other?” he brought his shoulders down and then leaned towards you, eyes wide. “what’s his personality like, tell me! he’s a baker right? duh, of course he is. i bet he’s a softie.” sunoo started rambling, mainly to himself.

you held your hands up. “woah, i met him for a total of like twenty minutes. i don’t have that information.” sunoo sighed and turned back around as customers entered.

you kept refreshing your phone, making small talk with sunoo as he made more bouquets. suddenly, you heard a ‘ping!’ sound and your eyes snapped to your phone to see the notification. “oh my god! it’s from the bakery!” you exclaimed. sunoo came over to you and leaned down next to you to see your phone. “well open it!”

you did just that and almost screamed from excitement had it not been for sunoo covering your mouth and looking around the shop at the lingering customers. “i’m not gonna get evicted!” you exclaimed and sunoo laughed as he rang up another customer.

it was your first day of working at nap of a star bakery and you were standing next to soobin and the owner of the bakery as your training started. it turns out that soobin was the son of the owner, and so far it was just the two of them at the shop. well, now the three of you.

“i’m so thankful you put in an application, y/n dear. it’s been difficult running the bakery with just my boy. your extra hands are very welcome!” mrs. choi told you, smiling warmly. you noticed the light blush across soobin’s cheeks as he rubbed his hand over his face. you smiled warmly at mrs. choi, “i’m very thankful you decided to hire me!”

she put you and soobin to work in the back room, starting on the goods, as she dealt with the customers up front. soobin began showing you how to make the dough for snickerdoodles. you stood side by side in your matching aprons and gloves.

“you want to make sure that you add enough flour so the consistency isn’t super sticky.” soobin said as he showed you the amount of flour to put into it. you let out a brief laugh.

“this isn’t my first time baking, i got this.” you gave him a confident smile. he raised his eyebrows.

“okay then… all you!” he took a step back from the bowl and you took one towards it.

you made snickerdoodles before. at least, you think you did. they were a pretty popular cookie to make, surely you’ve made them at least once in your life before. you cracked the eggs soobin had put out into the bowl. soobin had already added the butter, so it was up to you to figure out the rest of the ingredients.

thinking of what usually goes into cookies, you started reaching for different things. you eyeballed the amount you put in.

“oh! that’s not— you should really measure the ingredients!” soobin suddenly exclaimed. you felt his watchful eyes on you as you worked. you waved a hand behind you. you had this.

once you got all the ingredients in, you dug your gloved hands in and started mixing. there was sputtering from soobin behind you, but you ignored him. the dough was really sticky, so you took soobin’s words from earlier and reached for the flour.

the flour suddenly quickly poured out from the bag, way too much of it falling into the bowl. “oops!” you muttered, setting the bag back down, getting sticky dough everywhere. you dug your hands in again and started mixing until the dough was firm. you picked some up and rolled it into a small ball, then dipped the outside of the ball into the sugar and cinnamon mixture soobin has already set out.

you continued the process a few more times, struggling with the crumbling dough, until you filled the pan. you peeled off your gloves and picked the pan up, walking over to where the stoves were, a dumbfounded soobin trailing behind you.

mrs. choi popped her head in from the door and asked you both how it was going. you both turned. “it’s going great!” you beamed, pan still in hand. she gave you both a satisfied smile and went back to the front.

you put the pan of cookies in the oven. setting it to 415° you thought aloud at the amount of minutes you should set the timer for. “i think ten minutes should be good. or maybe fifteen? i’ll do fifteen just to be sure!”

once that was all settled, you dusted off your apron and turned to soobin, who was staring at you with wide eyes and mouth agape. “see, i told you. i got this! so what’s next?” your question must’ve snapped him out of his daze.

“oh— uh… you know— let’s just wait until the cookies are done. then we’ll continue.” he stuttered. you shrugged, stepping away from the stoves to get new gloves.

the timer dinged and you grabbed an oven mitt to take the pan of cookies out of the oven. you sat the pan on the cooling rack as you turned the oven off. soobin came near you and leaned over the freshly baked cookies, inspecting them. they were a pretty deep golden brown.

he grabbed the nearby metal spatula and went to lift one of the cookies to look under it. the cookie completely crumbled as he did. the inside was burnt. your mouth dropped in shock.

soobin looked over to you, his hand with the spatula still hanging in the air. he straightened, “so… let me show you how to actually make snickerdoodles. so that they don’t turn out like… this.” he motioned with the spatula to your failed cookies.

you nodded and couldn’t help but laugh. soobin hesitated before joining in with you. “this was a disaster, i’m sorry.” you said, covering your mouth. soobin took another look at the cookies before throwing them away in the nearby trash can. he looked back to you, “are you sure you’ve baked before?”

an embarrassed smile spread on your face. “no, not really. i mean i’ve made those cookies from the packages where you just have to add water…” soobin gave you a bemused look. he shook his head slightly and motioned you over to where the ingredients were.

standing next to him, he began guiding you on how to actually make snickerdoodles, you following his instructions. when you were about to do something wrong, like stick your gloved hands in the bowl to mix the dough again, he would stop you and tell you how to actually do it. “instead of mixing it with your hands, you want to take this—“ he held up a straight spatula “—and fold the dough instead.” soobin demonstrated for you as he spoke.

you nodded, following along. soobin stopped his motions and handed you the spatula. you took it from him and picked up from where he left off, folding the dough. once everything was mixed, soobin softly clapped. you laughed in amusement.

he pointed to the dough, “see how it’s not super sticky and not as firm and crumbly as yours was? that’s the consistency you want. this is the consistency that you’ll mainly be working towards when baking anything.” he picked up a small amount of dough and began rolling it between his hands. you copied his actions, and then rolled the ball into the sugar and cinnamon mixture.

after filling the pan, once again, soobin took the pan over to the oven and placed it inside. he turned to you, a reassuring smile on his face. “you don’t want to put it on too high or keep the cookies in for too long.” he put the oven on 350° and set the timer for 8 minutes.

“if you feel like maybe they’ve been in for too long, then you can go ahead and check them. i usually use a toothpick and the spatula to check the consistency and to make sure the bottom isn’t burnt.” soobin said. he did just that and backed away, his mouth forming a satisfied grin. nodding, you took in all the information he had just taught you.

that’s how the rest of your shift went. soobin walking you through how to make various baked goods. once you felt like you could start working on your own, soobin would move on to work on something else. here and there he would give you his input, and you’d apply it to whatever you were making. you and soobin made small talk as you worked, getting to know each other until it was time for you to start cleaning up.

you were absolutely covered in flour and dried dough. thankfully, once you and soobin we’re done with one baked good, you would clean whatever you used and the area before starting the next thing. so it wasn’t as messy as you were initially expecting the end of the day to be. you stripped your gloves off and threw them into the trash, soobin doing the same.

the two of you stood at the sink, him washing the dishes and you drying and putting them away. “i have an idea,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. soobin looked over to you, shaking his head a little to get their hair out of his eyes. he raised an eyebrow in question. “tomorrow we should see who can make the most stuff. like a competition! we can compete and whoever makes the most goods at the end of the week can win a prize or something! i don’t know, we can workshop the idea.” you exclaimed, you gave him a big hopeful smile as you rinsed and dried the dish he handed you.

“compete?” he asked. you nodded. he hummed as he thought. “okay! how are we gonna tally up points?” you put the whisk back in the drawer as you thought.

“each baked good can be a certain amount of points! like cakes and pies are three, pastries and cupcakes are two, and cookies and whatever else are one?” you looked at him, head tilted. “we can keep track on the chalkboard!” you then pointed over to the chalkboard next to where the door to the front of the bakery was. right now, it had a half erased list of what the two of you needed to make on it.

“okay!” soobin smiled. “let’s do it!” you squealed a little and ran over to the chalkboard, erasing the list on it. “hey! you’re suppose to be helping me wash dishes!” soobin laughed. you ignored him as you wrote.

on the chalkboard you wrote soobin and y/n in capital letters, drawing a line between your names and under them so it formed a table. “today doesn’t count since i was learning.” you spoke, placing the piece of chalk back on the little rack and turning to him. he looked back at you as he washed the dishes, grinning. you returned to his side and rinsed the dishes that he piled up.

“it’s on!” you said and glanced over to him. he laughed and shook his head. “in your wildest dreams.”

sunday rolled around quite fast and the bake off competition between you and soobin was at an all time high. currently, soobin was winning with a total of sixty-seven points. you were close behind him with sixty-six points. you were rushing to finish the cookies you were making for another point. the timer on the oven sounded off and you jumped in excitement, pulling out the freshly baked perfect cookies.

“another point for me!” you exclaimed, walking over to the chalkboard and adding a tally under your name. you turned to soobin with a wide grin. “now we’re tied!”

“because you keep cheating! all you’ve been doing the whole day is making cookies!” soobin spoke as he frosted a cake order meant for a birthday. on the top, the cake read “happy birthday honey!” with yellow and orange swirls and hearts. your grin widen and you gave a smug shrug. “step your cookies up before you crumble!”

soobin playfully scoffed at you and went back to adding intricate tubing to the cake. you leaned over it, watching him work. “i would be ahead of you right now if you didn’t take all the cakes and pies.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. he chuckled at you, staring over at you for a brief second.

“i’ll let you have the next one,” soobin said softly. he added the last bit of tubing on the cake before the door to the front opened. mrs. choi came in with a small piece of paper in hand. you and soobin turned towards her in unison.

“another order for one of our famous blueberry pies!” mrs. choi exclaimed as she wiggled the paper. she pinned it on the cork board next to the chalkboard with your scores and went back up to the front.

you and soobin looked back to each other, frozen. you saw the gears in his brain turning as you stared into his eyes. in the short week you’ve gotten to know him and the competition you’ve both started, you learned to read the look in his eyes when he’s up to something. narrowing your eyes slightly, you shifted your body ever so subtly to the cork board just in case you needed to make a break for it. a slight smile tugged at the corners of soobin’s mouth.

“it’s all you,” he said lowly. your eyes narrowed further and cautiously you took a step, eyes locked on him. taking another, and another until you reached the cork board, you let your eyes slip from him and his wide smile. the bag of frosting still in his hand.

snatching the piece of paper, your eyes scoured over it hungrily, taking in all of the information. a mischievous smile spread across your lips as you read further and saw that the order also called for four blueberry and lemon puffed pastries. you were so winning this battle.

you felt a breath on your neck and turned to see soobin looming over you. you quickly pressed the paper to your chest and faced him, a gasp escaping your lips.

“cheater! you said you were gonna give me this one!” an amused smile took over your mischievous one. soobin held a cake box, cake inside, in his arms. he lifted his shoulders, a laugh shaking them.

“you were taking too long for it to be a simple blueberry pie.” soobin set the cake box on the table by the door to the front. he then put a finger to his lips and tapped it cartoonishly, eyes looking up to the ceiling as he hummed. “and did i say i was going to give you this one?” you nodded quickly.

“i lied,” soobin said. he then dashed to the table where the ingredients were. you dashed after him, trying to start the pie before he did.

the two of you moved frantically around the large kitchen, running into each other and stumbling over things sitting on the floor. you quickly whisked together cornstarch and sugar as you ran to the fridge. pushing soobin out the way with your hip and spilling a little bit of the mixture over you, you retrieved the fresh blueberries with your free hand and ran over to the stove.

soobin already had a saucepan on the stove ready with the heat on. water and lemon juice already inside. you tipped the cornstarch and sugar mixture inside as well, half of it landing on the stove top rather than in the pan. you grabbed the spoon next to the stove and began furiously mixing before you felt hands around your hips. soobin pulled you away from the stove and to the side as he snatched the spoon from your hands and started mixing himself.

a giggle escaped your lips as you turned back to the ingredients table and finished the dough he started. it was already done since it had been refrigerated yesterday. you grabbed the rolling pin and flattened the dough out, making sure to flour the surfaces so the dough doesn’t stick. saving enough of the dough for the lattice of the pie, you pressed the remaining dough into a pie plate that you quickly grabbed. you then trimmed and fluted the edges.

you ran to get a circular knife. soobin must’ve finally noticed that you weren’t hovering around him and turned to see what you were doing, a confident smile on his lips. the smile dropped when he saw that you already had the base of the pie ready. soobin dropped the spoon on the counter next to the stove and dashed to where you were cutting strips into dough.

soobin tried to push you out the way with his hip but you dug your feet into ground and pushed him back. you started cutting the dough faster, the strips coming out sloppy and uneven. majority of them weren’t even the same length.

“accept defeat!” you laughed as you moved soobin’s prying hands away from the dough. the kitchen was filled with laughs and soobin poked a finger into your side, making you jump. “not when i’m so close to glory!”

“let me have this like you said you would!” you exclaimed. you were coming up on the last strips that you needed for the pie. it was hard to cut the dough when soobin kept grabbing at it. giggling, you pressed the circular knife back into the dough moving hurriedly when you got another shove from soobin’s hip.

the circular knife suddenly nicked your finger and you jumped back, dropping the knife, as blood began flowing from the wound. you both freeze and suddenly soobin is grabbing your hand with the bloody finger.

unconsciously, soobin puts your bloody finger in his mouth. all movements freeze as you stare at each other with wide eyes. not even breathing could be heard. the two of you are covered in various different ingredients and the kitchen around you is a mess.

soobin slowly takes your finger out of his mouth, his eyes widening by the second. your heart starts to beat rapidly at the exchange. heat warms up your face in full force and you can see the redness creep up from the back of soobin’s neck.

“oh my god…” soobin finally says. he’s still holding your hand, but, thanks to him the blood is no longer flowing. “oh my god! i’m so sorry, y/n! that was a force of habit.” soobin repeats. you let out an anxious giggle.

“you usually put people’s bloody fingers in your mouth?” you ask teasingly. his cheeks are a deep pink and you giggle at the sight. your heart seems to be beating faster and faster with each passing moment. soobin breaks away from your gaze with great effort, embarrassment written clearly all over his features. the tension between you is high and you start to sweat in your loose clothes and apron.

“i’m so so sorry, i really did not mean to do that,” soobin says lowly. you break into a fit of giggles, amused by the whole thing. slowly, soobin joins you with hesitant chuckles. soon you’re both doubled over, stomachs hurting from laughing so hard.

you’re holding onto the table for support when soobin speaks again. “maybe… we should take a breather…” he trails and you nod in agreement, holding your stomach slightly. soobin takes your hand softly and leads you to the sink where the first aid is. he motions for you to wash your hands. as you wash them, he pulls out a bandaid and begins opening it. once your hands are dry, he gently takes them and wraps the bandaid around the shallow wound on your finger.

soobin smiles shyly at you, his hands still holding yours. “y’know what… you can have the pie.” the blush on his cheeks has spread to his whole face as he spoke. you giggle and nod, “yeah, i would like that.” soobin’s face lights up in sudden realization.

“oh my god! the pie!” he turns to the stove, letting go of your hands, as he runs over to it. he takes the saucepan with the blueberry filling off the heated burner and puts it on one of the ones that’s turned off. you jog over to him, you both inspect the filling as he takes the spoon and mixes it. it was a little thicker than you both intended, but it was fine. you look at each other and start laughing.

“here, you finish the pie, and i’ll start cleaning up. we both look like a mess.” soobin hands you the spoon with a grin and you take it. he tried wiping some of the flour off of him to no avail as he walked over to the ingredients table.

by the time the blueberry filling has cooled, soobin has cleaned the majority of the kitchen. you bring the pan with the filling over to the pie plate and pour it inside the crust, saving the remaining for the pastries. soobin had already gotten the pastries ready for you, so you used the remaining filling for them.

the lattice for the top of the pie came out shotty at best, but it wouldn’t matter once it baked. you put both the pie and the pastries into their own oven and set them to cook. you turned to soobin to see he was about to start washing the dishes.

“i’ll wash them,” you said. he’s basically cleaned the whole kitchen, it was the least you can do. you washed and dried the dishes, putting them back in their respective places. you leaned back onto the counter near the ovens next to soobin.

soobin had updated the chalkboard, adding his three points for the cake he made and your seven points for the pie and pastries. he bumped your shoulder with his. “you won,” he said softly. soobin then grinned and added, “this week.” you chuckled at him, turning to him slightly.

“so what’s my prize?” you asked. the two of you hadn’t actually come up with what the prize would be. you’ve both been too focused on making the baked goods to actually win. soobin’s eyes wided a fraction, blush once again reddening his cheeks slightly. “what do you want?”

you faced forward again as you thought about it. “i don’t know… what are you willing to give me?” soobin’s blush deepens, but you aren’t facing him to notice. after a moment with no answer, you looked over to him, awaiting an answer. his head is angled down and it’s subtly tilted away from you.

soobin let’s out a cough and wipes his face before looking back up at you. “uh— what— um… how about i bake you anything of your choosing?” he sputters. you smile at him, “anything? even if it’s difficult?” soobin playfully scoffed and waved a hand in the air before crossing his arms over his chest.

“nothing is too difficult for me! it can be anything! cake, pie, pastry, cookie, bread, whatever. puffed, filled, turnovers, upside down, layered, anything. whatever you choose!” you thought for a moment, then smiled warmly at him. “what about blueberry bread?” you asked. “but, like really fancy… in honor of my first win and for many to come!”

he laughed at the smirk on your face. “done! when do you want it?” you shrugged at him, “whenever you have the time.” he nodded, more to himself than to you.

you were excited to see how soobin made the blueberry bread. you giggled at the thought of him giving you a fancy set up for something as simple as bread. nodding back to him anyway, the two of you made your way to the front of the bakery to end your shift.

sunoo had an eyebrow raised as you recalled the previous day’s events. he was half listening to your rambling and half paying attention to the customer he was checking out.

“and then,” you said, literally sitting on the edge of your seat, “he put my finger in his mouth!” sunoo whipped around to face you, eyes wide. the customer, who was starting to walk away, froze in their spot, also staring widely at you. “i know,” you nodded.

“he didn’t mean to… he said it was a force of habit, but still. like what? my heart was beating so fast, sunoo, you don’t even understand!” you continued. the customer gave you a wide playful smile and a thumbs up before exiting the shop. sunoo gasped as he took your hands.

sunoo looked at the fresh bandaid on your finger intensely. he then leaned back and looked at you, a knowing smirk on his lips. “what did i say, y/n! what did i say!” he teased. “and what happened after that? you started taking off each other’s clothes?” your face heated.

“no! we went back to baking!” you smacked his arm. sunoo sighed loudly. “lame! you should’ve told him to fill something else.” he gave you a wink as another customer came in.

you covered your flushed face with your hands. “sunoo!” you harshly whispered. he just laughed at you.

when you went into the bakery for your shift that day, you were surprised to see that soobin had already prepared your prize. in the back, the ingredients table was decorated with a flowery tablecloth. there was a pretty lace doily under where the plate of blueberry bread sat. candles were lit and there was a small note that read: for the talented y/n y/l/n in a bold cursive font.

soobin then came up to you, he was dressed very nicely with a button up shirt tucked into black slacks. there was a matching black tie tied around his neck. he held a metal plate with a tea towel and wrapped silverware on it in one hand, the other arm pressed behind his back.

“for you, my dear.” he held the metal plate towards you in a bow. you let out a small laugh at the whole scene as you took the contents from the plate. heart skipping a beat. just then did you realize that soobin had drawn a cartoonish mustache on his upper lip. loud belly laughs erupted from you and you leaned against the table for support. “the mustache?” you managed to breathe out, it being followed by another fit of laughter.

soobin joined you, relaxing his stiff stance. he sat the metal plate on the table. “you said make it fancy! i made it fancy!” you giggled and nodded, “you sure did!” he motioned towards the blueberry bread with a white gloved hand. you had to stifle your laugh at it.

“well? go on and try it!” you smiled at him and grabbed the knife from the wrapped silverware he had given you. you cut a slice of blueberry bread off the loaf and sat it on the awaiting plate next to it. grabbing your fork, you waved it in the air with a giggle and then used it to grab a piece of the bread. you ate the piece and thought for a moment as you swallowed it.

“wow!” you said as you grabbed another piece, “this is delicious!” soobin smirked smugly and raised his hands. “what can i say? i’m actually gordon ramsey.” you choked a little on the bread as you erupted into laughter. “sure…” you trailed playfully.

it’s been a little over a month since you’ve started working at nap of a star bakery, and it has been the best job you’ve ever had thus far. the little competition between you and soobin had turned from small battles to a full blown war. the two of you were baking so much to garner extra points that the bakery had a bunch of overstock and mrs. choi had to tell you both to slow down.

in that time, you and soobin have grown closer than ever. “i’m starting to feel replaced,” sunoo had said to you the other day, after telling him how soobin cheated to win that week. the competition had gotten so serious between the two of you that you were now competing to see who was the better baker. you even brought sunoo to the bakery a couple of times to be the judge.

you and soobin were once again frantically running around the kitchen, this time fighting over who gets to bake the wedding cake a customer ordered. you held a large plastic tray in your hands, running over to the ingredients table when your foot caught on a bag of flour and you and the plastic tray suddenly went flying. hands quickly caught your waist and steadied you before any real damage could happen. the tray made a loud noise as it landed on the ground, startling you more.

you breathed heavily in shock as you turned to look at soobin, your eyes wide. “woah,” you said. you both broke out into laughter. “jesus, y/n, you almost just saw the light.” soobin’s hands were still on your waist as you turned to face him fully. “thankfully you were here!”

soobin removed his hands and your waist felt cold without them. “maybe we should just work together on this one…” he trailed as he looked around the mess of the kitchen. “i mean, this is someone’s wedding cake after all.” you nodded in agreement, chuckling a little. he smiled warmly at you.

reaching up to his face, you giggled, “you have flour on your nose.” you purposely wiped flour on him and he scrunched his nose a little, a small grin on his lips. soobin takes his flour covered hands and wipes them across your cheeks. “you have flour on your cheeks,” he says. you raise your eyebrows as you look at him.

the two of you are laughing softly as you stare at each other. you dip your hands into the flour sitting on the table and cup both of soobin’s cheeks with your hands. this is a side game you and soobin have started recently, going up to each other with flour and saying that the other has flour on them. it makes even more of a mess, and mrs. choi is always surprised to see you when you go back to the front of the bakery, but it’s fun.

you’ve been secretly drawing hearts with flour on him and giggling at his confused stare when you wouldn’t tell him what you drew. it was always in a place he couldn’t see or reach.

“can you guess what i’m about to say?” you ask him. you feel his cheeks lift into a smile and see his dimples pop out. he starts laughing, “you have flour on your cheeks?” giggling at him, you squeeze his face a little.

“you have flour on your cheeks.”

you’re mere inches away from each other. somehow, soobin’s hands have found their way back to your waist and you’re both giggling as you stare into each other’s eyes. once the giggles subside and nothing but smiles are left, you notice an emotion you can’t figure out swirl in soobin’s eyes.

your heart is beating rapidly in your chest as you realize your sudden closeness and you watch as soobin’s eyes briefly flicker down to your lips. inhaling, you decide to just go for it and act on your emotions. you bring your lips to soobin’s, pressing them together softly. his hands tighten slightly at your waist as he kisses you back.

the kiss is slow and intimate. for a while now you’ve been crushing on him, ever since the day he made you that blueberry bread as a prize. sunoo has teased you mercilessly about it, calling himself cupid even though he had no hand in your blossoming feelings. the times when you brought him to the bakery to judge, he would drop not so subtle hints about your crush. you had to always give him a harsh glare over soobin’s shoulder.

your arms wrapped around soobin’s neck, pulling him closer to you as the kiss deepened. your bodies were pressed up against each other. pulling away from the kiss slightly, you tried to breathe. your breath lightly fanned his cheek, lifting some of the flour off of it. soobin leaned towards you and kissed you passionately, his arms wrapping tighter around your waist.

when you broke apart, you both were breathing heavily, lips plumped at the sudden exchange. you smiled a little, “i’ve been waiting for you to do that.” soobin chuckled. “i’m sorry i didn’t do it sooner.” you both leaned in for another kiss but jumped apart when you heard the door to the front open.

mrs. choi took one good look at the two of you and shook her head in amusement. “how the two of you always manage to get covered in so much flour always amuses me!” she held up two small pieces of paper. “more orders! business is booming!” she laughed and the two of you awkwardly joined her. once she left, you and soobin looked at each other and started to laugh. you were absolutely covered in flour, mrs. choi was right. soobin nodded his head over to the abandoned dough you had started and the two of you began working on the wedding cake again. this time, together.

it was after hours at the bakery and you and soobin had your friends sitting at one of the tables at the front of the bakery so they could be the judges of who’s baked goods were better. you had met each other’s friends a couple times now through various judging events, so when you asked them to judge the final round to put it all to rest, they accepted.

today, you were going to find out just how much of a better baker you are than soobin. and you are gonna laugh in his face when everyone says how good your baked goods are. currently, you and soobin were in the back preparing your dishes. you had decided on a french profiterole cake while soobin had decided on a gâteau basque cake. you knew your cake was delicious, you had been practicing ever since you and soobin decided that you should have one last round to see who the greatest baker was.

soobin held a small plate out with a small slice of the cake he had made for the challenge out to you. you raised your eyebrows in shock and smiled up to him. “you trying to boost your ego before the judgment?” you asked as you took the fork from him and took a bite of the cake. your eyes widen at the flavor. “this is amazing, soobin! oh my god!” maybe you weren’t gonna win this after all…

soobin smiled warmly at you as he held up a small, rolled up piece of paper. you sat the plate down on the nearby table and took it from him, unrolling it. “be mine?” he asked, right as your eyes trailed over the same words on the paper. a smile broke out on your face and you stared up at him. he held another small plate on it, a small cake flower in the center. you giggled as you took the plate from him. “of course i’ll be yours!”

you sat the plate with the flower next to the plate with the slice of cake as you wrapped your arms around soobin’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss. he laughed softly against your lips and pulled you close.

“hello?” you heard a voice drag out from the front of the bakery. “when are we going to get to judge? i didn’t come here hungry for nothing!” you heard muffled voices and then a “shh! shut up beomgyu! what if they’re getting busy? you know how badly he needs that.”

giggling, you pulled away from soobin, giggling harder at his flushed cheeks. you held his hand and looked longingly at him. “you ready?” you asked. soobin nodded, then smirked a little. “you ready to get told you’re the second best baker?”

you rolled your eyes at him playfully, letting go of his hand so that you can grab your cake. the two of you brought your cakes out to the front and your friends erupted into claps. “finally!” soobin’s friend beomgyu had said. his arm got playfully hit by the guy next to him, who you’ve come to know as yeonjun.

“i love you, y/n, but if your cake tastes like shit i’m spitting it out and looking at you with the upmost betrayal. don’t embarrass me here after i’ve been talking you up!” sunoo teased as you and soobin sat your cakes down in front of them. you laughed at him, holding a hand to your chest in mock hurt.

there were already empty plates and silverware placed in front of all of your friends. “alright!” you started. “welcome to the great bake off! yes, the great british bake off was copyrighted… but that’s okay!” laughter sounded around you as you clapped your hands together. you looked over at soobin, “do you wanna go first or do you want me to go first?”

soobin shrugged. “i’ll go first.” he cut slices of his cake and put them each on your friends’ empty plates. “alright, you already know how the judging works. each judge will take a bite from the food and we’ll go down a line one by one for statements. dig in!” soobin spoke. your friends did just that, murmurs of how good the cake was coming from them.

“alright, kai, you’re up!” kai hummed and put a finger to his chin as he thought. “it was absolutely disgusting,” he said as he took another bite. “seriously soobin, what is wrong with you?” kai kept eating the cake as you all laughed.

taehyun nodded in approval, praising soobin for how good of a job he did with the cake. yeonjun stood from the table, did a cartwheel, and sat back down before calmly saying that it was delicious. you and sunoo stared at him with wide eyes as you saw the regret and slight embarrassment form on his heated face. beomgyu hummed, dramatically putting a finger to his lips and tapping as he kept taking more bites. he hummed again.

soobin walked up to him and grabbed him around the collarbones, shaking him slightly as everyone laughed. “it’s really good!” beomgyu said as he sat his fork down, plate empty. yeonjun shook his head at him. sunoo then cleared his throat, sitting up straight. “it was very delicious, but not as good as y/n’s cake!” he said. you laughed, “you haven't even tasted mine yet!” sunoo shot you a glare with wide eyes as he shushed you.

you cut up slices of your cake for the judges, putting one on each of their plates. they barely took a bite of your cake before they all jumped up from their seats and started loudly clapping. dramatically saying how wonderful your cake is and how their taste buds have never graced such perfection. you couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from your mouth at them.

“fantastic! you are truly are the best baker that ever lived!” taehyun exclaimed, clapping hard. “truly, truly. i mean, this cake is godly! higher than that even!” sunoo added as he dramatically took another bite and melted back down into his chair. you shook your head at them.

you looked over to soobin, pouting. he laughed softly at your acceptance of defeat. his cake was absolutely amazing…

soobin came over to you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. you looked at him as he smiled down at you. playfully, you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. soobin placed a kiss on the top of your head, leaning his head against yours as you both watched the dramatic appraisal from both of your friends.

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka

masterlist┊part two┊request rules ༘ ˚· ౨ৎ ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ

[nshmuras]

YOU DONT TALK MUCH? ~ sjy

sypnosis : jake was the heartthrob of decelis academy. as usual, he would find girls to swoon and break every month. but what happens when his friends challenge him to break you? the quiet girl who never speaks to anyone.

genre : fluff, angst, smut.

features : hyung line of enha.

pair : popular boy jake x quiet girl reader

chapter(s) - ONE 2 3 4 5 -> 000.

buns notes : if you see a mistake its because i pre wrote this way before it even was posted yesterday 😭 ignore them please !

Sim jaeyun wasn't a good guy. not like anyone didn't know that.

most people assumed he was a mamas boy or was insanely clingy due to his natural radiant glow.

Well everyone is wrong.

Jaeyun, also known as jake, didn't live with his mom anymore since he wouldn't get his way and decided to move out by the help of his father he rarely sees ever.

But atleast he's successful, his mom rather have a annoying ball of success than a annoying son with a even more annoying lack of future.

Sometimes thinking about leaving his mother and stressing her out with his defiance makes a tiny pang of guilt come but he pushes it down, why wouldn't he?

Now he has a thing he does. he has a list full of the cutest and hottest girls at Decelis university that he deems fit to be a pawn at his game.

It's called the "target list" and whoever is on there will leave with a broken heart and more.

He tells these girls that he loves them! they believe it with a bat of their eyelashes and a spread of pink dusting their cheeks.

Stupid.

Now enough of that, lets move on.

-

-

-

Today, the lunch room was bustling with movement and chatter as the students of Decelis university gathered in the area to eagerly fill their stomachs before having a long lecture with their professors.

Obviously, the basketball team sat at a big table with jokes and conversation about girls.

Heeseung, jay, and sunghoon are jakes buddies. Following behind him as always to practice or anywhere else

The topic was random before the oldest, heeseung, spoke up. "Yo jakeu, when you finding your next toy?" He teased, which jake scoffed but also snickered.

"Soon, haven't found anyone to place on my list yet." Jake inquired as he dug into his bag , pulling out a slightly crinkled paper before placing it on the table.

"I had Kori , maya , mina but their all last weeks targets i already crossed off." He huffed and leaned back in his chair.

Then, jay took the paper and scanned it before leaning over to whisper something to the other male, sunghoon.

Sunghoon hummed and nodded, jotting down something before shuffling it back to jake.

Jake quirked a brow and read down. "L/N Y/N..." He muttered as he looked up "Who the fuck is that?"

They all snickered before heeseung answered. "That girl over there. Shes from class 4 and seemingly has a crush on you."

Jake almost snorted and immediately rejected the idea before jay cut him off. "She's quiet, doesn't speak alot and seems like she could be easy to fool."

Jakes original frown then curled into a smirk. "Well, this will be fun."

.

.

.

After lunch ended everyone was now in their professors classrooms, except jake.

He strolled the halls until he reached the library.

Does he like to read? No.

But that's not why he's there... he's there for you.

When he scanned the area his eyes landed on a girl who was buried into a book and basically assumed it had to be you.

He strutted over to you confidently and took a seat beside you, in which you looked up.

"Hey, saw you were reading something and got curious." He smiled charmingly and expected a immediate blush but you remained calmed and nodded.

"Uhh.. what is the book called?" He asked, feeling awkward. he never has felt awkward talking to a girl.

You shifted the book to show him the front cover before returning it to your own eyes to continue reading.

"Hm.. nice." He said a bit quietly as he watches you. "Say.. you should talk. its not attractive if you keep quiet." He teased, it was a bit of a jab but suprisingly, you stood up and took your stuff with you before walking out the library.

"What the.." Jake trailed off in confusion before it turned into frustration.

Who dare turn away from Sim jaeyun like that? everyone knew better.

You're definitely not getting off the hook.

jakes next targets : @faithnsstuff @mitmit01 @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @whoa-jo @wonsdoll @elysianiki @mmygnolia @kairoot (send ask to be added.)

[archangeldyke-all]

So I few days ago I saw this post with the still where Sevika growls at Jinx looking like she is 3 times bigger than her, and I remembered that I'm like, 4cm (1-2 inches?) taller than Jinx and Sevika would look exactly as big if I was there instead of Jinx. Which at first made me think that I'd give Sevika a piece of my mind if she screamed at me like this, but on the second thought...well, I had to be a woman enough and idmit that Sevika'd make me fucking cry.

Which leads me to: Sevika screaming at reader - mb reader is Silco's goon or smtg (preferably with the height dif to make it scarier) and R is on a verge of tears. Sevika is like, "what the fuck..." She doesn't feel bad in the moment, just shocked and lost (you're criminals, who tf would cry) R comes home and gets angry at Sev for treating her like this and gives Sev reality check the next day, which leads to Sev apologising and then being all like "did I just fucking apologise to her what the FUCK I'm the fucking second in command" but she gets so impressed she asks R out after this.

Thank you for your writings, they're genuinely my morning paper (you post when it's nighttime for me and I read your stories in the mornings). Also you honestly impacted my writing - recently I'd write a line, look at it and think, oh, this is Angel's, she'd write something like this, and it so heart-warming to me. 💕

oh my god that is so heartwarming to ME i'm CRYING!!!!! i love this idea, lets do it!!!

men and minors dni

at first, you're just a blip on her radar. a new hire of silco's, just another set of arms to help lug and count and wield vairous weapons.

you catch her eye a few times in your first weeks working for silco. you're always cracking jokes, making other goons chuckle. you make her chuckle a few times, too. she calls you out during a briefing one evening, complimenting you on your hustle at the drop earlier that day. but besides that you're nothing to her.

and then you fuck up.

it's not your fault, not really. it's jinx's. she's got an intense fondness for fire, and you'd forgotten about that fact. so when the thirteen year old asked you for a lighter, you'd shrugged and tossed her one, thinking she was gonna light some firecrackers or experiment with smoking-- normal thirteen year old things. you never thought she'd set the warehouse you're all standing in on fire.

everyone makes it out unscathed, thank god. jinx runs away with a squeak when sevika comes stumbling out of the building, covered in soot and scowling. "jinx, you fuck!" she cries. "who the fuck gave her fire?!"

you meekly hold your hand up, still coughing up the lungfuls of smoke you'd inhaled. sevika growls, then shoves your shoulder, hard. she towers over you, glaring down at you as she seethes.

"you stupid shit-- what the fuck were you thinking? i'd bet nothing at all, since you clearly don't have any fucking brains in your skull--"

sevika cuts herself off, baffled. she coulda sworn she just saw a tear fall down your cheek.

you sniffle, wiping your face quickly. sevika almost laughs. you're... crying? what the fuck?

who the hell does that? you're a goon for fucks sake-- your job description might as well be: fuck up jobs and get yelled at. and now you're crying?

sevika just stares at you, bewildered, then she scoffs, turns around, and walks away.

you think that's the end of it.

for sevika it's only the beginning.

you didn't plan on confronting her, initially. but sevika was so shocked and put-off by your reaction to her yelling, that she's been yelling more and more at you just to see if you'd react the same way.

it's been two days now, and no matter what you seem to do, sevika's two steps behind you, growling and ready to demean you.

you lose your temper when she criticizes the way you're sharpening your knives.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?!" you growl, suddenly, interrupting her mid-rant. "you make me cry and then decide, what, that you've just gotta see it again?!" you ask. she blinks, even more shocked than she was when you burst into tears. "not all of us are tough as fuckin' nails sevika! but if you think crying is crazy, you should see what i'll do to you if you keep fuckin' with me!" you shout.

sevika's never been this shocked, intimidated, and turned on all at once in her life.

she clears her throat, gulps, then speaks. "i... i'm sorry." she says.

you sigh, then nod. "it's fine." you cut her off, before swiftly walking away. she watches you go, more confused than she's ever been in her life.

did she just... fucking apologize to you? her? second in command to silco? apologizing to you? rookie goon who'd only been hired to dig graves and clean blood stains?

and why couldn't she stop thinking about you? why was she suddenly so drawn to you, muffling her laugh at every one of your jokes she overhears, her eyes drawn to you every time you're in the same room?

sevika almost throws up when she realizes she's crushing on you.

she tries to ignore it. but now that she's aware of her attraction to you, it's all she can focus on.

she goes to work, she's thinking about you.

you're in the room, she's trying to subtly get close enough to sniff your shampoo.

she's at home, she's sleeping off a hangover and having wet dreams about you.

she lasts a week before you confront her again.

"are you plotting on killing me?" you ask one evening while you and sevika lug crates of shimmer off an airship. she trips over her own feet, then looks over at you like you're crazy. you just raise an eyebrow at her.

"what makes you thi--"

"i cursed you out and ever since you've been... watching me." you say. sevika cringes. "ran's worried for me. they say it's like 'watching a predator stalk its prey.' i figured if you were gonna kill me you'd've already killed me, but. i thought i'd ask, just in case." you say. sevika chuckles, unable to help herself. you're funny.

"i'm not plotting to kill you."

"then why--"

"i wanna ask you out." she mumbles. it's your turn to trip over your feet.

"what!?" you squawk. sevika huffs.

"i dunno. i don't get it either. but you cried in fronta me-- i don't remember the last time someone i wasn't killing cried in fronta me. i couldn't stop thinkin' about you. and then you yelled at me-- nobody yells at me. not even silco. and i apologized. i think-- fuck... i think you got me hooked." she groans. you're equally shocked, pleased and amused, smiling in shock and awe at sevika's revelation.

"...so?" you ask. sevika scoffs.

"whaddya mean 'so'!?"

"so... whaddya gonna do about it?" you ask, tilting your head to the side. sevika blinks at you, then smirks.

"can i take you to dinner?"

"actual food or just liquor and smokes?"

sevika giggles-- nobody makes fun of her. but you are. and... she likes it?

"actual food. whatever you want, i'm buying." she says. you smile.

"after work tonight?"

"yes." she nods, grinning. you shrug, pretend to consider her offer, then nod.

"alright." you say.

sevika bites her lip to keep in her girlish giggle. but then you dart forward and press a peck to her cheek-- and she can't help but let it out anyways.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

[whatwouldsylwrite]

At least I got you in my head (4)

(3)

Summary: Abby is straight. And then you move in with her.

Tags: modern au, fem!reader, straight!abby (she is doing some comphet bullshit), pining, idiot in love and it's abby, reader is gay and tired.

Notes: Happy pride month, guys! I feel like I committed a hate crime with this chapter, so I'm sorry. It's also longer than previous chapters by 2k. And um, the "hate crime" part (not literal hate crime, just some angst) is rushed because I really didn't enjoy writing it :/

Black haired girl is Yoon Jiwoo from My Name, and she is a badass, if you want to see some female violence go watch some edits of her.

Taglist: @abbyily @lillysbigwilly @gravygranules @blairfox04 @frogtits1 @ccinnamongrl @ninazenuk @urmomsgirlfriend1 @sunkissedbibi @couchgarbage @nil-eena (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Caitlyn was again looking like a zombie, sipping her bitter coffee slowly. You were sitting in the coffee shop on the campus, and Caitlyn looked at you like a grumpy cat. Or a very pissed off cat. 

Caitlyn wasn't happy you distracted her (saved from exhaustion) from her studies (staring at her paper for an hour). But you didn't care as long as she sat with you and decompressed with her disgusting bitter 3-shots-of-espresso coffee. 

"You look like shit." You told Caitlyn and she glared at you. "You need to spend your weekend just sleeping for 30 hours. You can't do this to yourself."

"I'm fine." Caitlyn scoffed, but accepted the doughnut you slipped to her. "Thanks."

"I swear I will stay at your place for the weekend."

"I don't think you can be separated from Abby for so long, (y/n). Quite frankly, it makes me worried." 

Oh god, Cait had her detective face on, like she was solving a puzzle right now, and it made you nervous. 

"Why?"

"Well." Cait sipped her coffee. "You have the gay yearning in your eyes. Are you, perhaps, falling in love with her?"

"No." You cut sternly, surprising yourself. You didn't expect yourself to have such a strong reaction. "I'm not falling for a straight girl."

"Maybe falling was a strong word. You're crushing on her." The word crushing sounded so alien from Cait.

"It's manageable." You shrugged, not wanting to discuss your own weakness, but not wanting to lie to Caitlyn either. "I know I don't have a chance."

"This is quite upsetting." Caitlyn said and squeezed your hand. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't, I promise. I'm not stupid." You winked and drank your coffee. "Do you want to come to her fight on Friday?"

"I have to finish that paper." Caitlyn groaned. She noticed how you narrowed your eyes on her. "I swear, I won't study during the weekend. But if I push myself I can finish it."

"I'll be at your door at 12pm on Saturday. We will go outside, have a walk in the park, go to the bookshop or whatever nerdy place you want to visit. We both can use some downtime."

Caitlyn sighed but didn't protest.

"I'll text you when I go to sleep. Count 8 hours and then show up."

You nodded, proud of Caitlyn compromising on this topic. She didn't like "wasting time" but if you said it was for your benefit too she usually agreed. You trapped her in taking care of herself by thinking she was taking care of you, and it worked well. 

"Ask Ellie to come with you to Abby's fight. I'm sure she is going to be there anyway."

"You're right." You smiled and took your phone out. You still had Ellie's number from months ago. "Have you talked to her?"

"Yes. We study together from time to time, and sometimes I invite her to play chess." 

"Good. I'm happy you found your nerdmate." You smiled at Caitlyn and she smiled back. "Or is there something else?"

"No, we're friends. Not the kind you are with Abby." Cait looked pointedly at you. "I may be speculating, but I have a feeling she is not as straight as she thinks she is."

"Well, what do you want me to do? 'Hey, Abby, I know you're so deep in the closet you met fucking Aslan but how about you change your entire worldview because I have a crush on you that I totally can get over?'" You scrunched your nose, irritated at nothing in particular. 

"Obviously not that." Caitlyn frowned like she usually did when she was stategising, as if she could find a way to get you and Abby together because she was just that smart. "Well, I think you should start dating again."

You shrugged and looked down at your phone. 

to: Ellie Williams

Hi, it's (y/n)

Are you going to Abby's fight on Friday?

from: Ellie Williams

Hi

Yeah

Wanna go together?

to: Ellie Williams

Yes

from: Ellie Williams

cool 

I'll meet you there

"I'm not going to use other people in order to get over Abby. I'm not fighting fire with fire." You said, continuing your conversation with Cait. 

"You could use a distraction." Caitlyn shrugged in return. 

"I'll just find someone to tutor." 

"And I'm a workaholic with bad habits?" Cait muttered under her breath and bit down on her second doughnut. 

Thursday nights were usually booked for the time to unwind for both of you: you'd come home late, tired and hungry after classes and lessons on campus, Abby would be already home, studying in the living room for her usual seminar on Friday, also tired. 

Abby heard the keys as you opened the door and in a few minutes you appeared in the living room.

"Hi." Abby's chest tightened at your small, quiet voice and she looked at you. 

"Hey." She said gently and panicked, not really understanding why. "You look like shit." Nice save, Anderson.

"I feel like shit." You shrugged and went to your room to take your change of clothes. 

Abby took a deep breath, trying to get her panic under control - what was that? What, she wasn't allowed to be gentle with her friends anymore? What the fuck her brain was playing at? That was concerning. For some reason she kept creating excuses why it was okay to touch you, and that wasn't even the weird, selfish part. The weird part was - why did she even need to create excuses? She was touchy with her friends, and you were touchy too, it wasn't any different from her friendship with Ellie.

But somehow it was, and Abby was confused. She tried to act chill and normal around you, sometimes getting a little more sarcastic than usual. It didn't seem to bother you, but Abby got embarrassed every time she'd suddenly treat you a little rougher because she'd get this weird panic. Honestly, it was pissing her off - you were nice to her, gentle even, and she was acting like a school boy, tugging on your pigtails. 

Just like now. You didn't look like shit, you looked lovely despite being tired, and Abby had a fucking knee jerk reaction to god knows what. 

You came back from the shower, smelling like you, and you sat next to Abby, putting your head on her shoulder. Abby stopped typing, her heart doing a micro somersault: you were so close so suddenly it scared her. Or whatever she kept telling herself, really. 

"I wanna die."

"You're just hungry." Abby murmured and pretended to be concentrating on her studies. "There's leftovers from yesterday or I can order something for you."

You made a tired sound and Abby chuckled. 

"What do you want? Thai? Indian?" 

"Nah, don't waste money, I'll cook something."

"I'm not 'wasting money'. You're tired as fuck." I want to take care of you, she wanted to say, but she was being weird again, so she didn't. "Just pick."

"Let's do rock paper scissors."

Abby won and ordered your usual while you went through the endless list of tv shows for both of you to watch. Now, when you weren't that close, Abby got back to studying - her weird panic could wait until she was done. In Abby's mind her gpa was way harder to fix than whatever emotional things she had going on. 

"Cait really likes Ellie." You said offhandedly, and Abby perked up. "In a friendly way."

"Really?" 

Abby was surprised for two reasons: Ellie had a temper and was only likeable when she was interested in someone sexually, and Cait was so out of her league it was ridiculous. 

"Yeah. They play chess and study together. Cait doesn't study with people, so I guess Ellie is special in that way."

"Wow." Abby chuckled. "I mean, Ellie is extremely smart. Is it your type?" Abby teased, continuing the bit about you crushing on Ellie. However something in her grew anxious at the thought of learning what your type was.

"It's more about her arms, you know." You laughed, looking a little embarrassed at the admission. 

Something felt hot in Abby’s chest as she looked down at her own arms. She looked back at you and flexed her bicep to see your reaction, and it was worth it: you looked dazed for a second before quickly looking away, flustered. Abby laughed at you and you hit her on her arm, embarrassed. 

“Fuck you.” You laughed too, and Abby felt too good in this moment, just laughing and teasing you; she never wanted it to end. "What is your type?"

Abby blinked. Her type? She never gave it a thought before: relationships weren’t something she was too invested in, it never seemed to be worth the effort. She never experienced this head over heels love everyone was talking about, so she never cared to run after boys.

"I don't really have a type." Abby said, thinking back to her not-so-long list of exes. "You know, with men if he is not an asshole it's already a win."

You laughed and Abby smiled, her confusion about not having a type going away.

"Great, we're definitely going to have a perfect love life with these standards." You chuckled and laid back on the sofa, letting Abby get back to her study. 

Abby's favourite part of Thursdays was happening around 10pm, when you'd finish washing the dishes - today it was putting everything in the bin - and Abby'd get her excessive amount of pillows and blankets so you two could cuddle and watch the next episode of the ridiculous show you both were too invested in. 

"Come on, come here." Abby said a little impatiently while you were putting some pillows away. 

"I'm not the one who made a fucking fort out of pillows." You grumped but soon enough you put your head on Abby's shoulder, your hands tucked in front of your chest. Abby always expected you to hug her around her middle, but you never did, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. 

Sometimes, very rarely, when you'd get too tired, you'd fall asleep on Abby's chest, and Abby never had the heart to wake you up. You already showered, everything was clean and you didn't have any tasks to do, so why would she wake you up? Just so you could walk to your bedroom, your sleep interrupted? No. 

Abby looked down where your head was, curious if you were asleep after the episode ended, but you looked up just as she lowered her head, and fuck you were too close. So close Abby's heart fucking malfunctioned and started beating five times faster. She could feel your breath on her face and something was demolishing under her ribcage - it happened in a matter of seconds and you moved away, creating the distance between you, but Abby was so scared in that moment she didn't breathe. 

"Do you need to study?" You asked as you moved away and sat next to her. Abby tried not to feel disappointed at losing your warmth. 

"I'm done, actually. I feel kinda confident about tomorrow, you know?"

Abby stood up and started tidying up the living room, putting everything in its place.

"You're smart, Abby. You'd nail that seminar, I promise." 

"Thanks, (y/n). You're coming tomorrow to my fight, right?"

"Yeah. I even cleared my schedule for it." You said, pleased with yourself and Abby smiled. "But I'll kill you if you get hurt, you hear me? No missing punches."

Abby laughed and came closer to you, refusing to feel weird about being affectionate with you. It was fine. 

"I will be careful, I promise." Abby murmured as she leaned down and kissed your forehead. "Don't want to get in trouble with a woman who feeds me."

"Damn right." You said sternly. "Good night, Abby."

"Night, (y/n)."

You only had a vague idea about MMA fights: you were never really interested in sports, let alone violent sports, but well, Abby invited you so you decided to give it a shot. You weren't sure you'd like it (seeing Abby being punched? No thank you), but Abby wouldn't have invited you if it wasn't important to her, right?

Or were you fantasising again? Making a big deal out of nothing? Fuck, it was getting harder and harder to keep yourself in check with these things. Abby was sweet, and you were weak for sweet girls. 

You tried not to get delusional when your suspicion got too strong - was it intuition or wishful thinking? Were you seeing things that weren't there or were you ignoring what was? You didn't know, and yeah, it was manageable, but also - it drove you crazy. You couldn’t live like this, questioning Abby’s every move and every word.

Maybe you should have talked to her about the possibility of her not being straight, but her best friend was a lesbian, surely Abby had a moment to reflect on her own sexuality like some straight girls did when they found out their friend was gay. Abby was smart, she’d have figured it out already. 

God you thought you weren’t that stupid, but you were failing not to fall for Abby for a month and a half already. Hubris is a bitch, huh.

Ellie met you outside the place where the fight would take place fifteen minutes before the start. She looked good, as attractive as always - yes, (y/n), you needed to look at women you actually had a chance with, good job, keep it up - and the look she gave you suggested she thought the same about you. She even took your hand in hers as she led you to your seats, and you didn’t protest - somehow Ellie being touchy felt natural, and her cool hand felt nice on your skin. You sat together and you looked around.

“There’s supposed to be medics around, right?” 

“Yeah, but Abby doesn’t get super injured, she’ll be fine.”

“Have you seen her face? I almost went into cardiac arrest when I saw her.” 

“That’s her usual day at practice.” Ellie shrugged, her thigh warm against yours as she moved closer to hear you better. “Don’t worry, she can take a lot more than that. She is tough and intimidating, and she actually knows how to duck. But if you tell her I said it - your ass is grass.”

You laughed at Ellie's words and she smiled back. She explained to you how the fight was going to happen, and you felt a little hopeful - how much damage can happen in a five minute round? Not a lot, right? Right?

There were other fights too, and you had time to adjust to the overall violence of it all. You didn't know the girls who were fighting, but even then when a stranger got hit you couldn't help but flinch. Ellie noticed how stressed you were getting, so she took your hand in hers to ground you. The touch was definitely easy between the two of you, and it was comforting, so you squeezed her hand back. 

"I don't know if I'd survive this." You laughed and Ellie squeezed your hand back. 

"Look, they're all fine. No blood, no bruises." 

"The standards are too low, Ellie. You're in sports too, right?"

"If you call skateboarding a sport then yeah. I'm a hell of an athlete." Ellie snorted. 

"You should've taken Abby with you." 

"Babe, she has been in martial arts since she was four. I'm pretty sure she'd have kicked my ass if I asked her to leave MMA."

You laughed at this, a little bit confused: Ellie was behaving like Ellie you knew, not Ellie that was studying with Cait three times a week. The difference was intriguing. 

Finally Abby's name was announced and you got tense, bracing yourself. But when she walked to the cage, you forgot how to breathe for a totally different reason: she was so intimidating and confident, her defined shoulders rolled back in a threat, and you just couldn't help yourself. She was hot. She was so hot you pressed your thighs together as your eyes roamed over her trained body that screamed power and dominance, her top and shorts letting you see her abs and thighs that could crush your head if Abby wanted to. Fuck. 

Mark you as scared and horny. 

Her opponent was similar to her in size, and you watched with wide eyes as they approached each other after the bell rang. Abby was light on her feet, not too fast as previous fighters, but she timed her punches well, immediately cornering her opponent. But the girl was quick to recover as she landed some punches on Abby's side with her legs and you gasped, terrified.

"Abby's okay." Ellie said to you and you finally exhaled, not looking away from the cage. 

It was the most stressful eighteen minutes of your life, and the relief you felt when Abby was getting the upper hand and she was punching instead of getting punched, was immeasurable. Abby didn't really let her opponent corner her, her face had that calculated expression as if she knew every way this fight could go. That was comforting, but not as comforting as hearing the last bell and seeing Abby's black glove raised in the air to show her win. 

"That was so intense." You admitted as you relaxed in your seat and Ellie laughed, her hands stroking your thigh. 

"Believe me, it wasn't. You need to watch Abby's previous fights, there's some intense shit."

"No thank you." You said. "Do we wait for her or? What the fuck we are supposed to do, actually?"

"She told me to meet her at the party, so we can head out. Are you going to the party?"

"I dunno." You admitted sheepishly. "I have plans tomorrow."

"Come on, it will be fun. You can leave early and still get your beauty sleep. I can even set an alarm for you, Cinderella."

"Okay-okay. I'll leave at midnight." 

Abby arrived at the party a little later than she planned, but at least everyone was already having fun and not yet wasted. She quickly grabbed a beer and went through people to find Ellie and then find you - in Abby's head you were supposed to be with her. Ellie, however, was talking to her other friends - that was how Abby referred to anyone Ellie befriended in university - she was laughing and you were nowhere in sight. 

Ellie noticed her and went for a hug, patting her back.

"(Y/n) said your fight was 'so intense'." Ellie laughed and Abby laughed too, because they both knew Abby had way worse fights. "Congrats on not having your ribs broken."

"You're so sweet." Abby said mockingly. "What did I do to have such a supportive, caring best friend?"

"Nothing you should be proud of." 

"Have you seen (y/n)? I kinda thought she'd be with you."

"Yeah, she was talking to some girl." Oh. "Close to the bar." 

Something not really pleasant filled Abby's chest after Ellie's words, something like disappointment. She expected to see you there, but you were somewhere else, talking to someone else. 

Abby took a sip of her beer and went in the direction Ellie told her to find you. And yes, there you were, talking to a black haired girl Abby didn't know. It looked like the conversation was friendly, and the other girl didn't stand too close to you, which brought Abby relief - what the fuck was wrong with her? Why was she so uncomfortable with seeing you with someone else? What the fuck?

She walked through people to get closer to you, and when you turned your head you saw her and smiled. Abby smiled back and watched you touch the other girl's forearm, saying your goodbyes. The girl smiled at you and motioned at her phone as you nodded before she started to walk away. When Abby came to you, the girl wasn't there anymore and your smile was only directed at Abby, and it calmed her down, the normalcy of your life getting back. 

"Congratulations!" You hugged Abby tightly and she hugged back, stroking your back on instinct. 

"Did you like it?" Abby already knew the answer, but she really wanted to tease you. 

"Liked seeing people getting punched? No."

"But what about all those arms, hm?" 

"I swear to god, Abby." You elbowed her and Abby laughed. 

"Was it your friend?" Abby asked cautiously, trying to pass her curiosity as something casual. 

"Hm?"

"The girl you were talking to. I didn't want to interrupt, sorry." Was she really sorry? Maybe. 

"Oh, don't worry." You said, not answering Abby's question, and it made her feel not good. "Are you feeling okay though?"

"You're such a mother hen." Abby rolled her eyes. "My side is bruised, and she got my lip, but otherwise I'm fine."

"Great."

Abby spent the next hour glued to your side, talking to you: it was fun to be with you outside your shared apartment. Yeah, you spent time together on weekends, but being around a lot of people Abby knew and showing who she was friends with (yup, people knew you because you were a tutor on campus and a lot of them swore they got their credits thanks to you) was a cool feeling. Abby felt cool because she was friends with you. 

"I have plans tomorrow with Caitlyn." You said as you checked the time on your phone. "I'll head out."

"Already?"

"Yeah. But you have fun, okay? Call me if you need me." 

"Need you?" Abby raised her eyebrow.

"What if you get so drunk you'd need assistance?" You teased and hugged Abby. "Have fun! See you at home."

"Okay, mom." Abby laughed and watched you leave, just a bit sad. 

She found Ellie and hung out with her friends until she needed a refill of her beer. And while she was waiting for her beer, someone scooted closer to her and coughed, catching her attention. 

Abby turned her head to see a guy her age with a stubble. He smiled at her and Abby smiled back, a little confused.

"I was at your fight today." He said as he looked her over, and Abby got thrills from his attention. "You know how to throw a punch."

"Thanks." Abby said, pleased. Guys rarely liked the fact she could fuck them up, and hearing a guy saying she was good was ego boosting. 

"I'm Owen." He stretched his hand for a handshake, and Abby took it.

"Abby." 

The vibration of notifications woke you up and you expected to see Caitlyn’s message saying she finally went to sleep. You checked the time - 3am - and looked at your notifications. Indeed, Caitlyn messaged you half an hour ago with “if i see you earlier than 12pm ill kill you”, but there were other notifications. 

from: Abby

Hi im with a boy

sorry

promise we won’t be loud 

Your heart sank, but you didn’t even have time to process your emotions as you heard the front door open and people talking in hushed voices. Of fucking course you woke up just in time to hear Abby come home with a guy. They quickly made their way to Abby’s bedroom, trying to be quiet, but you got hyper aware of every noise. Fuck.

It hurt, and it hurt even more because you were so fucking stupid. You knew from the beginning Abby would never be interested in you because you were a girl, but the safety of your apartment where the two of you existed in your small little bubble made you delusional. 

Abby was just affectionate and touchy, and you were stupid and read it the way you wanted to read it, getting your hopes up. Stupidstupidstupid

You heard the bed creak on the other side of the wall and your throat tightened. Abby liked guys and she was having sex with a guy right now while you felt your heart crush, because you overestimated yourself and thought you could easily manage your feelings. 

The problem was that you forgot that feelings were not manageable and not something you could compromise with. You couldn’t just decide not to feel something and then actually stop feeling it. This mindset trapped you into repression and repression could only go so far, and now the fucking dam was broken. 

You were in love with Abby, and you had no chance and Caitlyn was right: you were hurting yourself. 

You didn’t cry, keeping your composure and snickering at the lack of the noise from the other side: either Abby was very quiet in bed or the sex wasn’t good. That thought made you feel better, not for any noble reason: you were hurt and you wanted Abby to not feel good too, and you didn’t really care at that moment that it wasn’t her fault.

Somehow you fell asleep, not bothered by any noise - that made you smile cruelly again - and you tried not to think about this situation and your own feelings.

Caitlyn was right, you needed a distraction. 

Abby woke up with a pleasant ache in her body and her head hurting just a little. Her bed was empty and she was relieved - she didn’t like to wake up next to someone she barely knew. 

Well, knew enough to have sex with him, but not enough to wake up next to him. Abby genuinely liked Owen - he was easy going and polite, and honestly? Maybe you were right when you said you didn’t really need to know someone to hook up with them. And hey, Abby was so touch-starved she was too touchy with you, so it seemed like a great idea yesterday. It felt like it worked - she was probably too lonely the whole time and now she was relaxed and there was no pull to go and cuddle you. It made her feel guilty - if she stopped wanting to be close to you after she hooked up then it meant she was just selfish this whole time, substituting what she actually needed with whatever she could get from you.

Yeah, she didn’t feel like a good person right now. 

Abby stood up from her bed and assessed the damage: two bruises on her inner thighs and a hickey on her collarbone, not that bad. She didn’t like when guys left marks on her - it mostly caused problems with covering up, but Owen was kinda good with not leaving marks everywhere. 

Abby put her clothes on and made her way to the bathroom when she felt her chest tighten with anxiety: not only Owen was still here, but he was talking to you. Shit. 

Abby felt bad for bringing someone home without actually discussing it with you beforehand and now you were making small talk at 11am with a guy who was supposed to leave a long time ago. 

Owen noticed Abby and smiled at her, and she smiled back. 

“Morning.” He looked down at her neck and Abby blushed a little. 

“Morning.” Abby responded and waited for Owen to come closer to her.

He put his hands on her waist and kissed her on the cheek and Abby melted a little.

“Sorry, I have to go already, but text me anytime.” Owen murmured before leaving a small peck on her lips and Abby nodded. 

Owen left and Abby went to the kitchen where you were drinking tea and looking ready for the day while Abby felt like a mess. The guilt overpowered her and she sat on the chair opposite of you.

“Sorry for yesterday, I know we haven’t discussed bringing people over.” Abby said, but you smiled at her.

“Hey, we are young and horny, can’t blame you for getting your stress relief.” You chuckled kindly, and Abby felt relieved. “He didn't seem like a total asshole.”

Abby laughed, knowing it was a pick at her standards.

“Well, just as you said, don’t really have to know him to hook up with him.”

“See, you’re learning.” You nodded your head approvingly and Abby laughed again. “Actually, while we’re still on the topic, can I bring girls over?”

“I mean, yeah, I think as long as we don’t disturb each other, everything is a fair game.” Who was Abby to deny your own needs when she literally brought a guy over?

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” You didn't look too happy right now, and it confused Abby to a degree, but she didn't ask.

What Abby didn’t know in that moment, that by giving you permission to bring girls over, she started the end of it all.

--------

To: Yoon Jiwoo

Hi! 

Would you like to grab a coffee with me?

[w-wolfhard]

hi would u write for rodrick heffley? i’m living off of crumbs lmaoooo

paring : rodrick heffley x f!reader.

warning(s) : none.

a/n : yall oh em gee i havent been on tumblr in so long holy shit😭 missed y'all😪 also i'm writing f!reader cus thats what im used to but if ya need me to write it differently i could try and do so 🫡🫡

in which y/n & rodrick try to bake cookies for a thanksgiving party but fail horribly.

it was thanksgiving weekend and rodrick's family next door was throwing a party. everyone had to bring a dish if they wanted to enter, so there you were; in your house next door, trying to bake a batch of last minute cookies with rodrick.

he pulled out the cookie dough from the fridge, slapping the package on the counter, "soooo.." he sighed. "do you know how to do this?" rodrick questioned, looking at the package of cookie dough as if it were a question from his previous math test.

"sure i do!" you said hesitantly. "you just have to– i dunno." you sighed as well.

"well okay.. that's fine. that's alright! neither of us know how to bake fucking cookies but that's decent!" he tried to be enthusiastic but he just sounded stupid.

"rodrick no, we're being fucking dumb. we don't even have to make the cookie dough. how are we gonna fuck this up if the cookie dough is already made?!" you rambled, slapping the cookie dough.

"i don't know man! it's you and i, and we could never cook!"

"we've never even tried cooking, dumbass!" you slapped your forehead. "y'know what, directions exist for a reason; let's read the directions." you told him, taking a deep breath.

"nuh-uh! directions are for babies, y/n. we're highschoolers, we can do this without that dumb shit." he scoffed.

"yeah, we're highschoolers that don't know how to bake cookies," you bit the inside of your cheek. "if you don't wanna read the directions then be the director! go on, i'll follow."

"fine! then i will," he folded his arms. "why dont we just roll up the cookie dough into a ball, place it on a paper plate then pop it in the oven?" he said proudly. "ya ever thought of that smartass?"

"i'm glad i haven't, 'cause what in the world kind of plan was that. you sound like a kindergartener rodrick." you narrowed your eyes at him and he looked at you offended. "seriously?! a big ball of cookie dough, on a paper plate, in the oven? we'll blow up or something!"

"will not!" he argued.

"gosh, i'm dating someone insane," you muttered.

"well do you got a better plan? 'cause if you do, i'd like to hear it." rodrick scoffed.

"how 'bout we, i dunno, read the directions?"

he groaned, giving in. "fine. just so we can get this over with so we could finally feast back at my house."

you chuckled and picked up the package, reading what it says; step #1 – get a trey. step #2 – put small pieces of dough onto the trey. step #3 – bake the cookies in the oven at 350° for 10-12 minutes. step #4 – take them out let them sit for a bit & feast on your cookies!

"that's basically what i said—"

"that's the complete opposite of what you said." you cut him off, shaking your head. you both did as the directions said; rodrick handed you the trey and you covered it with parchment paper while rodrick was preheating the oven. you and rodrick made small balls of dough together and placed them on the trey, spaced out good enough.

once they finished doing all that, rodrick popped the trey of cookies into the oven and closed it. once they finished, they pumped their fists in the air, celebrating. "woohoo! we so just did that!" you gave him a high five.

"definitely! i can't wait for them to be done!"

"yup, then we can finally go to your place and feast on the funnel cake your mom made." you licked your lips.

you both cheered and went over to the couch in your living room and watched tv. you guys were so indulged in the movie that was playing that you forgot about the cookies. except the smell reminded the both of you. "rodrick! the cookies!" it's definitely been over 10-12 minutes since you guys last popped those in the oven.

"fuckfuckfuck" rodrick hurriedly took out the cookies which looked burnt but still looked edible. you both sighed, "well we tried?"

"did we rodrick, did we?"

"yes we did." he nodded slowly. " atleast that's what we'll tell them," he chortled, grabbing two paper plates and stacking the cookies on it neatly, he made his way to the front door while you followed. he handed you one of the plates, as he unlocked the front door, "after you m'lady."

"never call me that again," you both laughed and he shut the door behind him locking it. he picked a cookie from the top of the stack, "cheers to shitty cookies on thanksgiving?"

you chuckled and grabbed the cookie on the top of your stack, "cheers to shitty cookies on thanksgiving." you clinged your cookies together and then took a bite.

god were they burnt.

you both forced yourselves to choke it down. "i'll stick to your mom's funnel cake." you sighed as rodrick unlocked his front door.

"yeah same."

susan answered with a grin, "hello y/n! come in, come in!" she stared down at your cookies and her grin morphed into a different look, "are those edible?" she motioned to the cookies in your guys' hands.

"well yeah, but i advise that you don't eat them. leave it to the little ones to chow it down." you snorted and rodrick nodded in agreement.

[eitaababe]

SOMEBODY ELSE !

— chapter five. last night. (pt 2)

! first two twitter texts are in neteyam's pov.

series masterlist. | previous / next

aftermath ! written portion below. —

you swear, you were going to murder neteyam.

you were sitting on your dorm bed, unable to breathe through your nose, face red and puffy. you'd been in ao'nungs pj's the past couple days, and empty cups sat on your beside table.

you woke up at the sound of a knock, only groaning in response. you closed your eyes, hoping whoever was at the door would take a hint.

they didn't, however, and the knocking only got louder. "go away!" you shouted, muffled into your pillow. a voice responded on the other side of the door, shouting something back you couldn't quite make out with another set of knocks, which left you no choice but to answer the door.

"i sAID—" you cut yourself off, staring at the boy in your front doorway.

"i know you said you didn't wanna hear from me, but i cant stand having you mad at me," neteyam started, re-clutching the paper brown bag in his hand. "so i got you some tea, cause i figured you need it. and then i got you soup, cause i know you're not eating, and then i also got you a croissant cause they're your favorite."

you eyed the bag, fighting against yourself to not give in. "i'm not so easily won over by food and tea, you know."

"i figured," he chuckled faintly, a hand running through his braids. "and i'm sorry, again. jake took my phone cause i kept checking it and i wanted to get back to you, i really did. and then he finally gave me my phone back and then this girl who i wasn't even paying attention to— i think her name was like vivian- or was it vanessa- i really don't give a fuck— took my phone because she saw your text and i got sidetracked again and just," he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, "i'm really sorry. i never should have left you in the first place. it was stupid, and i messed up."

you sniffled (because of the cold) and nodded, wrapping your arms around him. "i'm still mad at you," you mumbled into his shoulder, smiling when you felt him laugh softly. "but you apologized and brought me food so i cant really complain. but you're the reason i got sick so you better be my personal bed nurse."

relieved that you'd forgiven him, neteyam walked inside, closing the door and setting your bag of food and drink on top of the counter. "at your service, m'lady."

FUN FACTS !

— violet doesn't know y/n and neteyam dated

— neteyam always has a hair tie on his wrist for y/n

— ao'nung wanted y/n to stay at his dorm, but he didn't wanna be pushy

—

a/n — dramamamamaaaa

taglist #1 / closed ! @n7ytiri @ilovejakesullysdick @possysblog @love-chx @stars4deku @evphology @afro-hispwriter @ydsm-29 @tsireyasgf @goldeneywa @doulcha @krazy-kattzz @fucksnow @squid4 @blairrrrrr @neteyamforlife @dreamtogether2000 @444lyra @ambria @cawi00 @calums-betch @burntoutraven @powowowy @fadingpalacebonkpsychic @elegantkidfansoul @kolsmikaelson @mirikusashes @yukichan67 @goodiesinthecloset21 @netemoon @littlethingsinlife @coconut-dreamz @anm3mi @jjkclub @il0veheartz @liyahsocorro @nao-cchi @drugs-for-memes @zendayaswrld101 @grierpilots @misscaller06 @lightskinloak @mommyneytiri @inluvwithneteyam @halibanana @iheartamajiki @ipoopedmypants47 @neigesprincess @lookiiheh @ghostjoohoney

[jennarations]

Would love your landoscar fic recs 💌

your wish is my absolute command 🫡🫡

i’ve gone back to college and started student teaching and gotten covid and adopted a kitten all in the last two weeks so i haven’t gotten to read as much but here is what i’ve got! the key is the same as the lestappen fic rec:

> (Title) +/= (Multichaptered/One-Shot)

(Summary)

!!! (Link)

• (Tags - please note these are just the tags I saw relevant to myself, double check the fics themselves for any other tags you might deem relevant!) *(Word count)

Here we go! I’m also tagging some of the bestest and loveliest authors at the bottom of the post, go send them some love!! (Putting it under a Read More for all of our collective sanity)

My one (1) work (shameless self plug heheheh):

> Thunderstruck =

Lando has a childhood fear of thunderstorms and in a record-breaking year for rainfall, Oscar Piastri becomes his new teammate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50579323?view_adult=true

• Falling in love, Slight pining, Fluff, Humor *8.1k

—

> If You’re Barbie, And I’m Barbie, Then Who’s Driving the Bus? =

Anyways, the driver room is largely quiet at the moment. But not entirely, much to Lando’s enjoyment.

Buzzing from Oscar’s headphones, loud enough for Lando to hear the words, is a song from Barbie.

Charli XCX, no less.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48940792#main

• Fluff, Comedy *800 words

> Mortifying! Anyways, =

Mortifying interaction, but he’d survive. Besides, it’s not like the cashier was that cut–

“Cute enough to make you stupid, huh Norris?” He could hear his smile before he saw his face, a proper Cheshire grin.

“Fuck off mate,” Lando groaned, already trying to scrub the cashier from his brain. Except for the Australian accent, he decided; that bit could stay. Maybe his eyes, too, as tired as they had seemed. And his hair, which looked so soft in that kind of ridiculous side part.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49328047/chapters/124474876?

• College AU, Clumsy Lando, Meet-cute *2.3k

> The New Normal =

He wears a lot of shorts.

Lando had thought that Daniel wore shorts a lot, and then along came Oscar. It must be something about Australians.

Carlos never wore shorts.

Oscar’s pale, unblemished, muscular (and hairy) thighs spill out of the team issued black shorts whenever they sit to film content, or sit in meetings, or whenever Oscar sits in Lando’s general vicinity while wearing them.

They’re not a distraction.

OR Lando’s very healthy obsession with his new teammate’s thighs.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49335997/chapters/124496539?

• Pining, Slight smut *8k

> Invocations One Fall Away From the Concrete = ♥️

“Okay,” Lando says. “What’s your power?”

“Telekinesis,” Oscar replies a little too easily, like he’s trying not to make a big deal out of it. In fact, he’s already looking back down at his form. Lando doesn’t miss the way he seems completely stumped by the ‘Birth date’ square though.

Telekinetics are far and few between. You’re probably more likely to be struck by lightning twice than to meet a telekinetic. They’re so highly sought after in the hero industry that any telekinetic baby would automatically have a net worth of at least three hundred billion US dollars the second it was born. Moreover Oscar's an Oxy. It’s like, the jackpot of jackpots. This guy’s simply unreal on paper.

Lando scrunches up his face, rolls his eyes and says, “alright.” He shrugs. “Nothing to write home about, then.”

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

AKA the low-key superpowers au where they have to activate their powers doing a really specific thing. Oscar's activation is a mystery to Lando, but it involves a lot of good stuff, pinky promise. (Lando Wink™)

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49508506/chapters/124953475?

• Non-Driver AU, Superpowers AU, Roommates, Slight Angst, Fluff, Humor *10.3k

> Only Found = ♥️

“Hey, well. No strings attached, right?” Oscar says, strategically.

Lando smiles and says, “hell yeah. And now that that’s established, what’s your stance on aliens? Also, do you still want your cake?”

--

cinderella soulmates au where whatever you lose, your soulmate finds. except: oscar has a soulmate and lando is a No-Match, a person who doesn't have a soulmate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49218676#main

• Non-Driver AU, Soulmates AU, Lawyer!Oscar, Streamer!Lando, Angst, Fluff *6.8k

> Carried Away =

"Oscar," Lando said. "Don't hate me, alright, but I've—”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48871015#main

• Non-Driver AU, Fake Relationship, Angst, Fluff, Humor *22.1k

> Little Bit of Love =

“I’m freezing,” Lando says. Whines, really. “Don’t be mean, Oscar, I feel like shit.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49143811

• Sick fic, Fluff, Realization of Feelings *4.7k

> Signed Sealed =

Delivered

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48959461#main

• Text fic, NSFW pics *4.3k

> Smokeshow =

Because Oscar won the American football challenge, Lando had to wear the cheerleader uniform.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48546973#main

• Smut, Cheerleader uniform Lando, Brat!Lando *3.5k

> I’ll Kiss You First =

“Uh,” Oscar says, when they’re in the car on their way to the airport. “I think you’re—um. Going into heat, mate.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47264011#main

• A/B/O, Alpha!Oscar, Omega!Lando, Smut *3.1k

> Sunflower Seeds =

Not worth dwelling on, really. Oscar doesn’t have to understand him to be on his team. If he were a pitcher, it would be different; Oscar has to get his pitchers in order to do his job as a catcher well. Lando isn’t a pitcher, though. So it’s fine.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49596088/chapters/125175172?

• Non-Driver AU, Baseball AU, Realization of Feelings, Fluff *8.6k

> Chronically Bitchless But Still Wifed Up = ♥️

Lando wasn’t above throwing his weight around in order to get what he wanted, at least in some circumstances. And he wanted to meet Oscar Piastri.

In general, he wanted to go to a MotoGP weekend and probably could have either bought tickets and waited around there like a normal person or asked one of his actual sort-of friends in the paddock to hang out in their garage, but the more specific desire was to meet Oscar Piastri.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49301212#main

• MotoGP!Oscar, Driver!Lando, Fluff, Humor *8.3k

> Negative Splits =

So officially, Oscar Piastri, pretty good steepler and pretty bad pacer, was now a professional runner.

They wanted him to steeple, mostly, though he’d be doing cross country in the fall, and Lando had pinky promised him, mid-distance guy to mid-distance guy, that if he wanted to get into the 3k flat indoor then he would get him in.

Oscar didn’t really want to ask how he planned on doing that. Felt safer not to ask.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48161206#main

• Non-Driver AU, Professional Runner AU, Injuries, Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort *10.1k

> Thinkin Bout Your Touch =

Lando’s brain gets so occupied by the thought it shouldn’t come as a surprise really, when a few rounds later Oscar says, “Dare.” Lando blurts out, “Let me suck your dick.”

There’s a long, awkward silence in which they just stare at each other, Oscar’s expression completely unreadable. “Uh,” he eventually says. “I think a dare is something I’m supposed to do.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48704749?view_adult=true#main

• PWP, Blowjob *2.3k

> I’ve Tasted Blood (And I Want More) =

Lando grabs a pillow and hits him with it, while Oscar laughs loudly. His fangs are on full display, white and sharp and pretty. “You know what I mean, you dickhead!”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Oscar says, eyes twinkling. “You want me to use you as a human Capri Sun. You know, like a weirdo.”

“God, you’re making this so much worse than it is,” Lando says, burying his face in his hands. It’s. Well, it’s embarrassing, but Oscar also hasn’t outright said no, so. You know what they say. In for a penny, in for a pound. “So, will you?” And then, just in case, he adds. “Suck my blood?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48136999#main

• Vampire!Oscar, PWP *5.6k

> Legerdemain =

“You’re so modest it’s disgusting,” Lando says. “Michelle’s told me all about it. You winning against some master back in Australia. Anyways, she wants to hop on the bandwagon, get us to play chess, take photos after the weekend. She thinks you could teach me. It would show that you’re pedantic and that I’m pushing past my comfort zone...”

Oscar scoffs. “If Michelle’s only taking photos, why do I need to teach you it? Couldn’t we just pose with a chess set, like the Williams drivers?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49690744/chapters/125422075?

• Chess, Humor, Sexual Tension *5.8k

> What You Do To Me =

“Oh,” Oscar says, because what else are you supposed to say when your teammate says ‘I wish I still had a girlfriend so I could fuck some of that frustration out of me’. “I mean. I uh. I could give you a blowjob? I’d suggest a fuck but I don’t have any lube on me right now and I’m guessing you don’t either.”

Huh, would you look at that. Looks like the award for ‘most insane statement of the night’ doesn’t go to Lando after all.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47993518?view_adult=true#main

• PWP, Blowjob *2.5k

> Purring in My Lap (cause he loves me) =

The cat thing ends up getting sort of explained in Bahrain, when Lando walks into his driver room and finds a small orange cat sitting on his couch.

Oscar’s cat, presumably.

And he kind of looks like Oscar, too. Slender, lean, and with a slightly grumpy, unimpressed expression on his face. It makes Lando laugh a little. Like owner, like pet, clearly. “Should I just call you Oscat, then,” Lando jokes, giving the cat a little head scratch.

The cat, Oscat, stops rubbing at Lando’s hand and just stares at him instead. Lando would almost say he was looking at him disapprovingly, but it is a cat, so he’s probably just imagining things.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47878867#main

• Cat!Oscar, Fluff, Slight Angst *5k

> In Limbo =

“So what, you like me?”

Tick this box for yes, and this box for no. Fold it tight. Slide the paper under the desk. Don’t let anyone see.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49619383#main

• PWP, Dubious Consent *2.3k

> Eyes on Me =

He just doesn’t understand why Oscar stares so much.

It first comes to his attention at the pre-season media shoots. They have to be photographed in the new gear, and the new suits, and all the while a video camera is rolling to capture content for some behind the scenes pre-season footage. Lando likes to look back at the content they film, just to see how awkward he is.

He looks over some of the test photos while the videos load, and he sees Oscar’s eyes on him a lot of the time. Lando’s own are on the camera, his posture relaxed as he goes through the motions of what the team asks of him.

OR

Lando notices just how much Oscar stares at him, until one day he realises just how much he stares back.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49769368#main

• Mutual Pining *3.8k

> Home Is Wherever You Are =

‘You know, we could ask Carlos to babysit tonight,’ Lando mumbled against his mouth.

Oscar pulled back and hit his husband’s chest while laughing at him and shaking his head.

‘The man just arrived, babe, we can’t ask that right away!’

Lando pouted and pulled Oscar back against his chest. ‘But it’s been so long since it’s just been the two of us.’

OR: Lando and Oscar spend the day with their daughter and friends before finally having some alone time

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49909321

• Kid!fic, Established Relationship, Fluff *4.1k

> Grand Theft August =

Oscar Piastri, eh? It's not the worst idea he's ever had.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49975555?view_adult=true#main

• Angst, Humor, Smut *6.9k

> We’re All in the Butter But Some of Us Are Looking At the Cars = ♥️

Under it, the cross stitch with the Mandela quote, there was another one. A different one. Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars. Stars, again. And then the one beneath that was also about stars. Weird, he thought, then went to the till to wait for his sister.

Above the pile, too high for twelve year old Oscar to read, a sign was stamped. SECTION #13: REACH FOR THE STARS.

Twenty two year old Oscar rests his nose to the glass and looks at the clouds.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49696357

• Angst, Slow burn, Prose, Realization of Feelings *14.3k

> Terraforming =

“WORMHOLES! An Einstein brain child. They are created when FTL objects puncture the bed sheet that is our universe. Going through them should be a trip through timespace, which sounds cool, except it’s not because we never know what’s on the other side—”

“I think you meant fabric, not bed sheet,” Oscar says.

Lando rolls his eyes. “It’s a metaphor, mate.”

“For what?”

“For like. The fabric of the universe.”

“Huh.”

“Shut up.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50099659

• Space AU, Non-Linear Narrative, Angst, Happy Ending *8.8k <- I literally haven’t read this yet because it was uploaded today but i love enzo and all their stuff is fantastic so i’m rec’ing it anyway :)

> Superdense Neutron Star//Post Supernova +

It felt good to laugh. Thursdays already kind of sucked, all of the walking and talking and nothing to do, even when he wasn’t being drilled on the abrupt shift of his career. It was manageable because it had to be; because there was half a season left and a championship spot left to fight for and a team that was still his home, even if he’d just been delivered the eviction notice.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49981615/chapters/126195823

• Angst, Fluff, Ambiguous Ending *21.8k <- i also have not had the time to read this one because of life, but i trust leaf with my feelings (and my life) so this also goes on the list.

EDIT 11/5: More additions to the list!

> Unraveled =

Lando does not have a thing for his roommate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50085112/chapters/126476167?

• Non-Driver AU, Roommate AU, Bartender!Lando, Realization of Feelings *7.1k

> It’s Not Queerbaiting, It’s Saving the World =

Lando bursts into Oscar’s room without knocking. He’s red in the face and panting, sweat collecting on his forehead like he just ran a marathon.

“You need to kiss me.”

or, the drivers stage a protest, of sorts. Oscar might lose his mind.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49710619#main

• Fluff, Humor *1.6k

> Melepathic. Or Something =

“Thank God we used condoms,” mutters Oscar later, when they’re presentable, no doubt thinking back to last week when they. Well. Lando peeks out the door to check if the hallway is clear. It is.

“Yeah,” he says as he gestures Oscar out. “See you in a few, mate.” Oscar slips through and Lando picks up his phone again, sees a new message. Up for some fun tonight?

sure, says Lando after a moment. Amen to short refractory periods and all that.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47589115#main

• Smut, Miscommunication, Happy Ending, FWB *8.5k

> What Would You Do (If I Went To Touch You Now?) =

“Okay, so they both like each other. We need to get them together.”

“How? Lando’s too freaked out to think straight and Oscar is the human embodiment of the standing man emoji.”

Charles purses his lips for a moment before he snatches his boyfriend’s phone up from the other side of the table.

“What are you doing?”

“Initiating Mission Landoscar.”

“Did you just make that up?”

Charles waves at him dismissively as he begins texting, and Max lays his head down on the coffee table and prays for strength.

***

In which Max tries to prove to an oblivious Charles how glaringly obvious it is that Lando is head over heels in love with Oscar. When Charles finally gets with the program, Lestappen go on A Mission™ to get the two idiots to admit their feelings for each-other, but it’s easier said than done.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48745483/chapters/122963314

• Lestappen as a plot device, Angst, Slight Smut, Fluff, Humor, Texting, Escape Room Shenanigans *29.7

> Soft Vanilla Foreplay = ♥️

“Oh shit, you’re,” Lando gasps, smiles. “You’re a. You’re Robin Hood. You’re a kitty Robin Hood.”

Oscar stops grinding. “Can we have this talk tomorrow?”

Lando laughs and comes down to place a kiss on Oscar’s lips. “Yeah. Oh yeah. Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be great. I’m sooooo busy right now. Hmm.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50382910/chapters/127293583?

• Vigilantes, Cat!Oscar, Hacker!Lando, Non-Driver AU, Slight angst, Humor, Happy Ending *8.6k

> Is it Gay to Watch Your Teammate on TikTok? (Asking for a friend) +

He’s sitting on the bed, dinner long since picked at, with his knees pulled up to his chest. He feels close to hyperventilating.

It’s playing on loop, some sappy little edit captioned “i need to find someone to look at me the same way oscar looks at lando”.

And really, who the fuck was going to tell him that Oscar smiles at him like that?

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/127611460?

• Fluff, Humor, Ship aware Lando (containment breach of RPF), Pining *4.6k

> HOCKEY!!! Shrimp Colors :) =

Montreal puts Oscar on waivers after years - years of bouncing from the feeder team up to the league, and then back down. Edmonton picks him up.

Edmonton keeps him. Lando does, too.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50562061/chapters/127728067?

• Non-Driver AU, Hockey AU, Leaf puts sports boys into other sports, Angst, Fluff *13.8k

> My Shelter in a Hurricane =

Oscar wants to help Lando get better after the disappointment of Qatar's GP qualification. He doesn't know how...

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50639854/chapters/127923673?

• Fluff, Established Relationship, Post-Qatar Quali, Slight Angst *1.4k

> Pretty When You Cry =

Lando wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry, rip his hairs out, punch a hole into a wall, maybe shove someone, or maybe all of the above.

Or: the mclaren boys comfort each other after that shipwreck of a qualifying.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50624551?view_adult=true#main

• Fluff, Slight Angst *1.4k

> Already Home = ♥️

Lando takes a deep steadying breath. “I think I might be in love with Oscar.” He says, and hates how immediately when he says the words, he knows it’s true.

“Right,” Max says, nodding. “And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and?’” Lando says, a little outraged. “I can’t be in love with him! We’re married! This is like, a disaster waiting to happen!”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50704861/chapters/128087614?

• Non-Driver AU, Fake Marriage, Falling in Love, Angst, Humor, Fluff *32.5k

> Do You Like Me? Y/N =

oscar & lando have an awkward plane conversation, aided by uquiz.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50706235/chapters/128091004?

• Fluff *3.8k

> Recreate the Sun =

“You know who you sound like when you say that?” Lando asks absently, tossing the open bag of Skittles to one side and hoisting himself up the bed to rest against the pillows, head tipped back, the jut of his Adam’s apple catching stark in the TV’s flickering light.

On some level, Oscar already knows what’s coming. The Cheshire cat grin Lando gives to the ceiling near enough confirms it.

“Who?”

“Mark Webber.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48632239

• PWP, Weed use, Oscar/Mark mentions *3k

> Landoscar Cooking Show =

Lando and Oscar's love story through food-related posts on Instagram

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50825998#main

• Picture fic, Social media fic, Fluff *0k

> Little Renaissance = ♥️

And Oscar - people said he didn’t like the spotlight, didn’t know how to capture it and keep it the way Lando did. They always compared the two of them, in that regard. Even after Oscar left. But they weren’t right, the strangers, not after the first year at least.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50824324/chapters/128393929?

• Future Fic, Retirement, Angst, Pining, Acceptance, Happy Ending, Prose *14.2k

> Those Magic Changes =

“Yeah, right.” Oscar’s beer tastes stale in his mouth. “Sure there’s other perks though, right?”

Logan’s attention has been taken by his phone. Probably a girl, Oscar thinks, or his Mom. Maybe there’s a particularly big fish being shared in the family group chat. He types out a message then locks it with purpose, chucking it face down on the table.

“Yeah, I mean. You know what they say happens when you podium, right? The girl thing?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49308133#main

• Fem!Oscar, Smut, PWP *7.8k

> Sometimes I Start To Think You Hate Me Too =

Lando seems to have come to the conclusion that his strategy of appeasing him isn't working, so he opts for being impersonal, objective. "You were optimistic, Carlos locked up, you both crashed. It was a racing incident, and you - you are being dumb about it."

It doesn't work.

He scoffs, upset, he has never left anything well alone, he digs his heels deeper. "I wasn't too optimistic, I was inexperienced, was I not?"

OR,

The deep fear of yearning, wanting and needing without understanding the jealousy that consumes you. Breaking and breathing heavily under an awfully put facade of everything going well.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49659349/chapters/125339467?

• Angst, Inner Turmoil, Fluff, Happy Ending *3.7k

> Mine =

All in all, it’d been a shit weekend for Oscar. He knew he was beating himself up over understandable, expected rookie mistakes, he knew it was a great learning opportunity, he knew that the damage to his car hadn’t been entirely his fault on both occasions. Even if he didn’t show it or express it outwardly, it stung to watch his teammate stand on the podium - P3 - after all that’d happened. It hurt even more when that P3 became P2 before they’d even finished celebrating.

Lando moved up in the championship, so did the team. He deserved it, but it hurt like a bitch.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/51053692?view_adult=true#main

• PWP, Dom!Oscar *2.8k

> Sanctus = ♥️

“Nessun maggior dolore che ricordarsi del tempo felice ne la miseria,” Oscar read. Recited. Proclaimed.

“There is no greater sorrow than thinking back upon a happy time in misery,” Lando echoed.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50752399/chapters/128207113?

• Renaissance AU, Non-Driver AU, Angst, Master/Servant Relationship, Religious Imagery, Fluff, Happy Ending *5.5k

> Anything Less Than Human =

Oscar doesn’t really do entrances. Sure, in high society, it’s deemed necessary to stand at the top of some ridiculous staircase and wait for someone to announce your arrival. But that really only works in your favor if your name has any kind of good status associated with it.

Oscar’s not fortunate enough to fall into that category.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49902154/chapters/125979850?

• Vampire!Oscar, Masquerade Ball, Consensual Blood Sucking *2.7k

That’s all for now folks!

Authors (i love and cherish u all, you’re simply the light of my life):

@wanderingblindly @eisenberg @ocontraire @celientjeee @nyoomfruits @gaslybottoms and @ venerat (ao3 user)

P.S. whoever the nonnies are that wrote “Grand Theft August” and “We’re All in the Butter but Some of us are Watching the Cars” i would literally pay you to step on me, thanks and good night.

[ursachaotic]

A while back, I posted that I wrote a thing with Bill and my sona, but I wanted to give it a shot again, so here's another thing I wrote! (I'm still debating if I post the other thing I wrote, so let me know if you want to see that! : D)

also i only vaguely edited this and i don't write much so i apologize if it's messy asdhfoadsih (i also wrote it in a script format so i could make it into a comic but it got out of hand asdhofidash)

⚠️ BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS

[Takes place at the ending of the book after Bill cuts off the connection with the reader. Mason is trying to keep the connection with Bill before it's gone forever.]

[Mason slammed the book on the floor, scrambling to flip through the pages. Pages are turning blank as he flips through and the book is visibly glitching.]

MASON: Bill! C'mon, man – I didn't mean to betray you! This stupid book made me do it! I want to help you!

As he's flipping through, he realized pages start to turn blank. Fuck. He started flipping faster.

MASON: There's gotta be something in here still… This book let Bill talk to me, so I should be able to talk back to him, right?

He stopped on a page. It seemed to visibly glitch as soon as he landed on it.

Blinking. Staring. What the hell was this.

Curious, he tapped the page. It warbled and shuddered when he did, as if it was akin to slime. It flickered with a myriad of colors, like the tap on the page sent a shudder through it. Mason stared at it intensely.

MASON: If Bill could get through to me…

He took a deep breath, raising his hand.

MASON: Then…

He slammed his hand down on the page but it didn't stop. It kept going, phasing through like a ghost flying through a wall. He scrambled to steady himself, hanging on for dear life with the other hand placed on the floor. Now extremely disoriented, he pulled his hand back. He stumbled back into a scattered seat on the floor, taking the book with him and holding it out at arm's length.

For a moment, he tried to collect himself, breathing frantically and blinking a few times over and over. But then, just as he started to calm down, he narrowed his eyes. He cast a quick glance to the left and the right. Was he going to do it? Of course, he was.

He shoved his head into the book – right against the glitching page.

What followed felt so damn weird. Like swimming through a pool made of slime – slime that was fizzy like soda or electricity – as colors sparked around through his vision. He winced and fought to steel himself. The intense sensation fizzled away and, with hesitance, he opened his eyes.

His hands felt the warmth of his living room – where he had slammed the book on the floor in his futile effort to stop it from deleting itself. But a sting of cold air stabbed at his cheek as he fought to acclimate himself to his new surroundings.

He stared at the white walls, the steel bed frame and a bed made up of white sheets, and a brightly colored poster saying 'Be a TRY-angle' on it. There was stickers, glue and construction paper scattered on the floor, including several crude drawings of random people laying on the ground with Xs over their eyes.

He looked ahead.

A yellow triangle wearing an orange jumpsuit with a massive, glitching fracture across his face stared at him. His eye immediately turned red, and his entire body seized a frantic glitch, deepening the crack on his face.

Mason absent-mindedly grinned and waved at him.

MASON: Hi, Billy! I'm here to help you!

As soon as he piqued up, a siren of all things started to screech. The white walls of the room flashed to red as the alarm blared. Mason's face went pale.

BILL: UH-HUH. HOW'S THAT GOIN' FOR YOU.

MASON: Bad!

[eurydicees]

44 for the taylor prompts?

this ask is a YEAR old, it is TWO THIRTY AM, and i FINALLY got an idea that i couldn't get out of my head for it. here are my humble offerings.

the kind of best man who leaves the wedding first

summary: tamaki and haruhi are getting married. kaoru watches over the remnants of something else that used to be. prompt: the ties were black, the lies were white pairings: tamaki suoh/haruhi fujioka, tamaki suoh/kyoya ootori words: 2103  warnings: none 

Kaoru hums, running his pen in long, curving, meandering lines across a blank piece of paper. Kyoya is talking to him, or, really, he’s talking at him. Kaoru is very much not listening. 

Kyoya has been talking about the same thing for the past two hours—which is two hours worth of talking more than Kaoru really came here to listen to, and two hours more than he had ever expected to come from Kyoya without a breath to pause—and Kaoru would expect to be annoyed, but he’s mostly just tuned him out by now.

The thing is that he can’t really bring himself to be annoyed. Kyoya is just anxious, same as everyone Kaoru spends his time with seems to be these days. To be fair, it’s not like Kaoru himself isn’t also anxious. It’s more that his coping mechanisms for anxiety involve less throwing himself into obsessive planning and organizing and fretting over every detail of every plan, and more taking calming breaths. He’s been in a lot of therapy recently. Him and Hikaru both. He thinks maybe he should recommend someone to Kyoya. 

“—and he asked me to be his best man,” Kyoya says. Ah. Finally. The point. Kyoya’s voice turns low, quiet. “I don’t—just—” 

“You can’t have expected it to be anyone else,” Kaoru points out. He lifts his chin from the palm of his hand to look at Kyoya. “You’re not stupid.” 

Kyoya sighs, pressing his face into his hands; elbows on the table and hunched over. His voice is muffled when he says, “I expected it. That doesn’t mean I’m ready for it.” 

“You’ll be fine,” Kaoru says, rolling his eyes. “You spent three years of high school planning parties on his behalf. You can throw one more.” 

“Fuck, I have to plan the bachelor’s party?” 

Kaoru frowns at him. “Is that not what you were worried about?” 

Kyoya sighs, dropping his hands onto the table and leaning back in his chair. “I was mostly thinking about how terrible Haruhi is at party planning. And how Tamaki will literally do anything to make her dream wedding happen. Even if it’s ridiculous.”

“It’s gonna be terrible,” Kaoru snickers. Which is a little mean, but also. He’s not wrong. 

“Supportive,” Kyoya says, rolling his eyes. “And I—forget it.” 

Kaoru straightens up, setting the pen down and turning to study Kyoya more closely. “What?” 

He and Kyoya have gotten much closer over the years, especially in Kyoya’s third year, when he started training Kaoru to take over his job in the Host Club, and he’s gotten good at reading Kyoya. But this expression is different—he looks contemplative, closed off, unsure, and hidden, all in a way that he hasn’t looked in years. 

Kyoya has gotten so much better at the whole friendship and vulnerability thing as time went on—something Kaoru knows can mostly be attributed to Tamaki—but there are still moments when he shuts down. When he reverts back into a shadow more than a star. Those kinds of moments—this kind of moment—only really comes when he’s scared. 

“Kyoya—”

“It changes people,” Kyoya says, steadily not looking at Kaoru. He reaches out to pick up the pen Kaoru had been doodling with, and he clicks it open and closed again and again and again. “Marriage, I mean. I saw it with my sister. With Honey. With Mori. It just…it changes people. And relationships. Friendships. They change.” 

Kaoru hums. “I suppose.” 

“There are just—fuck. I don’t know.” Kyoya stares at the pen, something distant in his gaze. “There were so many times when I thought—” 

He cuts himself off again, and Kaoru waits. The way to get Kyoya talking is never to ask him a question. Kyoya blinks twice, and Kaoru stiffens. He’s not sure he knows what to do if Kyoya cries. He had prepared for a lot of things when Kyoya called him that morning, telling him to come over immediately and offering no other explanation, but Kyoya crying at his kitchen table is not one of them. 

Kyoya takes a shaky breath and clears his throat. “I don’t know. It’s nothing.” 

“It’s clearly not nothing, Kyoya. C’mon. It’s just me.” 

Kyoya closes his eyes, tipping his head back to angle his face at the ceiling. Kaoru watches, somewhat helplessly, as Kyoya confesses, “There were so many times when I figured I was going to lose him, and it never truly happened. But now…I think this might really be it.” 

“Kyoya…” 

Kyoya swallows, looking down and shaking his head a little. “It’s fine. I knew it was going to happen eventually.” 

Kaoru is quiet. He watches the now twenty-two year old Kyoya as he starts clicking the pen open and closed again, and he sees Kyoya as he used to be. 

Seventeen, in Music Room 3, with Tamaki hooking his chin over Kyoya’s shoulder to look at his laptop screen while they talk about the budget. Haruhi, calling out Tamaki’s name in the distance, asking for a ride home because of the thunderstorm. 

Sixteen, the two of them in that same spot, waltzing without music, Tamaki’s hands on Kyoya so tightly it must hurt; the most honest smile that Kaoru has ever seen on him; a moment that no one else was supposed to see. 

Fifteen, trailing after Tamaki as Tamaki called the twins each by their name. His hands in his pockets, a book under the hook of his arm. Calling out, “Stop bothering them. Let’s go home, Tamaki.” 

And Tamaki—

It dawns on Kaoru, then. “You love him.” 

Kyoya clicks the top of the pen so harshly that it gets stuck. He drops the pen on the table. Now, there’s something angry about his expression more than there is anything sad. Like he can’t even be heartbroken because he’s too caught up in being mad at himself for having the feeling in the first place. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” Kaoru says softly. “You can talk to me about it.” 

At that, Kyoya outright laughs. It’s bitter, and tired. “It’s not a secret, Kaoru. He knows. He’s well aware.” 

Kaoru frowns. “Did you tell him?” 

Abruptly, Kyoya stands up, the chair legs scraping back with an awful noise. Kyoya runs a hand through his hand, starting to pace around. He looks like he wants to talk, wants to scream something at the top of his lungs, maybe, but doesn’t have the words to explain what he’s feeling. 

He makes a frustrated noise and drops his hands to his sides. His back is to Kaoru and his face is to the wall when he finally speaks again. 

“We were together,” he says quietly. “Through most of high school.” 

Kaoru’s heart lurches into his stomach. “Oh.”

Kyoya shrugs, the movement stiff. “We both knew it couldn’t last. Our families—and then Haruhi—and we wanted at least one of us to get a happy ending.” 

“Oh,” Kaoru says again. His tongue is too big for his mouth, his teeth too sharp. He feels like he needs to say something else, but what else is there to say? He doesn’t have the words for this either. “Oh.” 

“It’s fine.” Kyoya takes a deep breath, one that echoes around the room. “It’s fine.” 

“Is it?” 

Kyoya turns around. His face is cold, impassive again. “It is. Don’t—we don’t need to talk about this again.” 

“Okay,” Kaoru says quietly. 

He looks down at where the pen has rolled onto the scraps of paper Kyoya had been sitting in front of. When Kaoru had come into the kitchen, all of the paper had already been there, but he hadn’t actually looked at any of it before starting to doodle over one. 

Now, he pulls a piece of the lined notebook paper towards himself to take a closer look. 

“Is this your best man's speech?” Kaoru asks. 

Kyoya sighs. “It’s terrible.” 

Kaoru reads another few lines. “It could use some editing.” 

“I was trying to be funny.” 

“Yeah, but you’re not funny.” 

“Thanks.” 

Kaoru snorts. “This line’s funny.” 

Kyoya steps over, leaning over Kaoru’s shoulder to see the line he’s pointing out with his finger. “That one was supposed to be sincere.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Kaoru says, sighing. “We’ve got a few months, let’s work on this.” 

He and Kyoya spend the next few months working on the speech, amongst other things. By the end of it, Kaoru has memorized it himself, and he could probably give the speech in Kyoya’s stead if Kyoya were to bail at the last minute. But for all that Kaoru can tell Kyoya is hurting over this, he knows Kyoya isn’t going to bail. Kyoya may be hurting, but he’s much too loyal to Tamaki to disappear when Tamaki needs him—the last time Tamaki will need him like this. 

The thing is—Kyoya claims to have always known that he and Tamaki wouldn’t have lasted. But Kaoru is sure that doesn’t make it any easier to handle watching the love of your life get married to someone else. It doesn’t make it any easier to deal with watching your best friend walk into someone else’s care. 

It’s not like Tamaki is helping make it any easier, either. 

He’s as oblivious as ever. With each passing day of wedding planning that Tamaki painfully ropes Kyoya into in an attempt to make it perfect, it’s clear that Tamaki has no idea that Kyoya is still in love with him. 

Tamaki asks him for advice on suits and Kyoya’s eyes linger too long and Tamaki just basks in the attention. He makes Kyoya help out with music choices, despite everyone knowing Tamaki is the one with good music taste. Kyoya is with them at almost every planning meeting, and some of it can be reasoned down to not letting the two of them make the decisions, but it also looks like it’s killing Kyoya every time he comes back to report to Kaoru. 

“The colors are going to be a kind of blue sea foam and pale pink,” Kyoya says tiredly. “Haruhi wanted green and purple. Tamaki wanted aqua and lavender.” 

It’s everything I can never have with anyone, his eyes say. It’s everything I wanted with him. 

“Thank fuck you were there,” Kaoru says. 

I’m so sorry, his own expression says. 

Now that Kaoru knows that the two of them were together, he sees it everywhere. He makes a photo album for Tamaki and Haruhi, and it’s in every photo he can find from high school. He helps Honey with a video reel, and it’s in the way the two of them gravitate towards each other at every opportunity. He writes his own speech, and it’s in every memory he has of the two of them in the same place at the same time. 

The day of the wedding comes, and it’s beautiful, and they all give their speeches, and they exchange memories and photos and gifts. Both Tamaki and Haruhi are breathtaking in their suits. Ranka cries. Kaoru cries. Hikaru does too, but he won’t ever admit it, despite the many eyewitnesses. 

It’s after the ceremony, when they’re all celebrating at the reception, that Kaoru spots Tamaki going over to Kyoya. Kyoya is nursing a glass of champagne at a table by himself, and Tamaki seems to be trying to convince him to dance. 

Tamaki is looking at him pleadingly in that annoyingly convincing way he does and from where Kaoru is standing with Honey and Reiko on the dance floor, it looks like Kyoya is about to give in, in the same way that he always does. Then, before Kyoya can nod and stand and take just one dance with Tamaki, Haruhi comes up to them and wraps a hand around Tamaki’s waist. 

It’s not possessive and there’s certainly no malice, because that’s not the kind of person Haruhi is, but the shift in Kyoya’s body language is easy to read even from a distance. Haruhi says something that Kaoru can’t hear, and then she’s stepping back, Tamaki’s hand in hers. 

Tamaki smiles at Kyoya, a little sad, and kisses his cheek. It’s a gentle, lingering motion. It must burn. Then he turns and follows Haruhi to go dance as a married couple. 

Kaoru is pretty sure he’s the only one watching Kyoya, so he’s the only one who gets to see Kyoya put the tips of his fingers to his cheek. Who gets to see him take a deep breath, and then drop his hand. 

And then he’s the only one who notices when Kyoya stands, gathers his suit jacket, places a single envelope on the table, and leaves the wedding early.

[suzukiblu]

New WIP start behind the cut, based off a request from @itty-bitty-fun: “I'd definitely love to see your take on micro/macro”.  . . . you know that thing when a kink is not really your kink and you’re like neutral on its existence, but then, like . . . someone asks you to actually consider it, and then you get way too invested in the process? no reason. asking for a friend.

“This is mortifying,” Kon mutters into his hands, trying not to die of said mortification. 

“Kinda reminds me of my Barbie phase, honestly,” Cassie says with a smirk, offering him the set of doll clothes she just got back from digging up. He glowers disgruntledly up at her, but it’s technically an improvement on the spare ace bandages from Tim’s utility belt that he’s currently wrapped up in. Kon is not actually a self-conscious guy and wouldn’t normally care about anyone seeing him naked, but normally he is two hundred and fifty pounds of half-Kryptonian muscle and not the size of a goddamn Barbie doll, as Cassie has so helpfully and mercilessly seen fit to point out. 

Actually, probably a Barbie doll would be bigger. Like, Kon did not have a “playing with dolls” phase for several very obvious reasons, but he’s pretty sure they’re bigger than he is right now. He’s more, like, action figure-sized. Which, obviously he’d rather be an action figure than a fucking Barbie, given the option, but also Barbies are bigger than action figures, and–and–

Stupid magic.

“You’re really small, wow,” Bart observes as Kon snatches the doll clothes and eyes them sourly. “I bet we could fit you in Tim’s coffee cup. Or maybe even his utility belt. Or maybe–” 

“Shut up, Bart!” Kon snaps, because he really doesn’t like how this feels, actually, and it’s actually kind of freaking him out, and he probably is small enough to fit in Tim’s stupid coffee cup and that’s just not something he really wants to be a thing right now! At all! Or ever! 

Also, the doll clothes are big and shapeless and awkward and came off a stupid cheesy “legally distinct” knockoff Troia doll, which means they’re also sparkly and kind of itch, it turns out, while also being stupidly flimsy and so paper-thin they're practically see-through. He feels like an idiot in them, and doesn’t even wanna think about how stupid he must look. 

Fuck his stupid fucking life. 

Look, Kon’s a big guy, okay? He’s used to being a big guy. Used to being the meat shield and the tank and the one who gets between everybody and the problem. Like this . . . 

What the fuck use is he, like this? 

The spell’s temporary. It’s not permanent or dangerous or anything like that. It’ll be gone by this time tomorrow, if not sooner. 

But it’s not gone yet, and Kon’s no use to anybody like this. 

“Could put you in a dollhouse for the night,” Cassie hums, giving him an amused smile. “Tuck you into bed like a baby doll.” 

“I actually hate you,” he informs her, and she laughs, because she’s the worst. 

“Actually I really like that idea,” Bart says musingly, tapping his mouth. “You grifin’ never let us take care of you.” 

“I still have TTK,” Kon reminds him threateningly, and Bart just cocks his head, looking him over speculatively. 

“So you’re not as strong, but you're still pretty invulnerable?” he asks. 

“Who fucking cares?!” Kon snaps in frustration. He’s still no use right now either way. 

“I just wanna know if we could fuck you like this and not have to worry about hurting you,” Bart replies reasonably, reaching out to stroke a fingertip down his chest. Kon–sputters, kind of, and reflexively recoils from it. 

And also, like. Burns alive, kind of. 

“I–like this?” he sputters. “I'm like, fucking doll-sized, Bart!” 

“Yeah, I know,” Bart agrees. “Like the perfect size to pick up and play with.” 

“Burning alive” is actually not a strong enough phrase for what Kon is doing right now. 

“You already let us dress you up,” Bart points out, poking at the strap of his borrowed clothes. Kon metaphorically vaporizes into atoms and literally dodges away from the poking. 

“I dressed myself,” he says defensively, mortified by the idea of–what exactly does Bart even have in mind? He's not big enough to do anything for any of them. His dick is definitely not big enough to do anything for any of them. Like–how would that even–how would they even–? 

“Hmmm,” Cassie says, and then just puts both her hands around him and picks him up, because she is again the worst, and–well, and then she flips him around, unzips the front of her shirt, and sits him down to recline right on top of her bare cleavage, his head resting back against her breastbone, which is . . . fine, alright. Like–he’ll live with that. Getting snuggled up to a pair of tits big enough to sleep on is not the worst imposition of his life, especially when said tits belong to the most Wonder-ful member of their whole weird nebulously-defined team situationship thing. 

But also, it’s embarrassing, because what the fuck is he supposed to do for her like this? 

[somuchbetterthanthat]

A little Gwen&Alice with heaavy alice/sam, because I needed to write something after that last ep and tumblr ficlets are less intimidating than full fics.

In hindsight, hiding in the loo is dumb. Sam's making her dumb, which is aggravating and bothersome and does not horribly ache like it used to, before, in those last few weeks they'd stayed together in the same flat while Sam prepared his trip abroad. Alice's a Cool Girl. Cool girls don't hide in bathrooms because their best friend who just so happen to be their ex arrived to the office at the arm of another woman with the sparkly bubbly smile that screams I had such a good time this weekend Celia is awesome at sex.

Then again, Alice's pretty sure her Cool Girl's crown's been stolen the moment Celia walked in with those stupid donuts for the first time (and it is painful, in a way, that Celia is cool to hang around with; pretty and fun and chill and blessed with the same ability Sam has to be friendly with everyone she meets immediately).

Whatever; Alice's excellent at building new narratives and looking away to survive. She'll withstand having Sam back in her life and then feeling like she's loosing him all over again like a fucking champ -- but she has to admit, hiding in the loo was just not a good move, 'cause now she's got to not only deny her sad moody depressing feelings, but also the fact that Gwendolyn Bouchard is clearly weeping on the stall next to hers.

"Hey," she whispers, after three long minutes of wondering whether she wants to deal with this, then deciding it's the sort of night where she'd definitely rather think of someone else's problems than her own.

There's mouvement on her left, then a sharp exhale. "What?" hisses Gwen.

"Want to tell me what this is all about?" Alice asks, staring at the door.

"No," Gwen snaps. Then: "We're in a bathroom, Alice, for god's sake, do you have any sort of decorum--"

"Exactly!" Alice cuts her off. "We're in a bathroom. That's basically being in a confessional for us ladies, innit? Sure we're not drunk out of our heads at the club or whatever, but I think this qualifies all the same. Everything you'll say is sacred in here my dear. Any sin is between you, me, and those awful scratchy paper roll that we're always out of. Hope you've got an handkerchief ready, by the way."

It must strike a nerve, because Gwen stays silent for a good thirty seconds before she mutters: "Anyone could come in."

"Oh, please," Alice snorts. "We both know Lena's not human enough to have to use the loo and Celia's too busy getting lost into Sam's eyes, we're fine."

"Why do you say that?" Gwen asks, her tone suddenly more alert.

"...'Cause Celia is getting lost in Sam's eyes? I mean, I know you have your whole thing going on and you're wayy better than us now that you got that shiny promotion you wanted so much, but they've literally been building this whole sickening little office romance just in front of our noses for like, two months, surely you haven't missed that. Kinda surprised you haven't actually told them this was against regulations or whatever."

"No not Celia, I don't care about her, or whatever's going on with Sam (Lucky you, Alice thinks meanly, and has to bite her tongue very hard). I mean about Lena. Do you think she's --" Gwen stops, exhales shakily. "Now, that'd be ridiculous. Obviously. She's nothing like --"

Oh, Alice thinks. Oh, Gwendolyn. She wishes people would listen to her, when she says to look away. Sam and Gwen are similar that way, she notes. All too ready to dig themselves into messes that are much too big for them to take on.

"I was making a joke," she tells Gwen. "I do that, sometimes. Oh, not very often of course, you know me, all too serious for this sort of nonsense, but I have heard before that it can lighten the mood here and there--"

"God, you are unsufferable."

"Is that how you talk to your priest, Gwendolyn? Shame on you."

"I'm leaving now. This is all pointless, and we've got work to do anyway."

"Do we ever," Alice sighs.

"You've been here for like, twenty five minutes, by the way," Gwen adds. "If you want to keep pretending you're not the one mooning over Sam, you might want to come out soon."

[kate-bot]

OKAY SO I've gotten two asks about my Noisette cosplay AND THANK YOU SM FOR THE KIND WORDS !!!!!!!! It was sm fun to make this cos, so I will gladly explain everything I did in hopes that it might help someone else!! also both anons please share your cosplays with me when theyre done i would love to see them....

I've tried to link everything where I can, where I got stuff etc... I only rarely cosplay (although I am thinking of going as the noise in May Comiccon) and this was my biggest ever project so!! It's very trial-and-error! But without further ado

KATES EXTENSIVE(ish) GUIDE TO COSPLAYING NOISETTE FROM THE HIT GAME PIZZA TOWER!!!!!!! (warning its kinda long)

THE HAT

Okay i’m gonna be real my mum helped me so much she basically did all the sewing for me. Sewing is the fucking bane of my existence I hate doing it so much so we planned it out together and she basically executed it. Props to her for that she’s so real… She also wrote down what she did!! So i’ll just paste and colour that in for you to read!!

“The black material (seen in the above image) was originally a beanie hat that was picked apart to use as a template…

This was game changing basically. We had experimented with making the hat from scratch but it was far too difficult and we were both too stupid so we just unstitched a pre-existing hat and stole the template. The hat we cut up was one we had lying around for years so i cannot tell you where to get one from, but any beanie that is stitched together will work i guess! So I would recommend finding a hat that fits you snugly and doing the same thing!

…and the wool fabric that was utilised gave the finished product was stiff enough to be structurally sound.

I just got this from my local fabric shop, I would recommend wool over something like felt because it’s super sturdy and I was pulling on my mask a LOT.

Once sewn together, I attached a stiff card facemask to the front to help provide some structure, and to locate where the eye holes should be cut.

I think this picture shows it pretty well, my mum was able to curve the shape of the fabric to fit a pre-existing mask- we got ours from Hobbycraft, just one of those stringed white template masks yknow. We cut off the string, made the eyeholes a little bigger and just stuck it straight on!! I should mention this was pretty much all done with a sewing machine as well!

After that, we made two ears from a paper pattern, stuffed them and put some wire inside to allow them to be positioned, before sewing them onto this headband, which was then sewn into the hat. The bottom of each ear was also stitched to the crown to give it some additional stability and to secure the headband correctly in position (having fitted it on the wearer).

Yeah it was actually less of a mask and more of a headband!! That was what gave it most of the support and meant the ears would stay up, I’m not sure how it would work without it!! The ears were the only part that I could actually help with LMAO i just freehanded a little template, stuffed it, and then put in some modelling wire to make them able to be posed :)

Then it was a lot of hand sewing, and glueing the eyeholes to the mask to create a cohesive look.

AND YEAH that’s pretty much all it was! I also attached some little felt eyelashes to add to it as well. Honestly I could never come up with a step-by-step guide for the process because it was such a trial and error thing (i’d made two test-hats before we even came up with the method) but it was so fun!!

I would 100% recommend if you want the ears to stay UP to stuff them AS MUCH AS U CAN and/or put wire in them!! :) I also made some cute little bows to clip into my wig in the same fabric to make it more cohesive!! I also put a bow (and a bunny tail heheh) on the back of the dress too!!

THE DRESS

Super simple! I just found one online (okay for some reason the link has been taken off of the website, but just look up "overall dress" on google shopping and you will 100% find something super cute)- I made sure to buy the dress first, and then take it to the fabric shop to try and colourmatch the mask fabric as best as I could. Then it was just buying some big ol buttons off eBay and sewing them on!! (I could actually do that bit by myself, I'm bad at sewing but im not THAT bad)

EVERYTHING ELSE

Cute patterned knee-high socks cuz shes cute like that. Leg warmers, I think I got them both off of Amazon... Converse I got from Depop and I had wanted to buy a pair anyway so I was super stoked to get them cheap!! I chose converse over a pair of high-heels or Mary Janes just for comfort reasons, I was walking around loads at the con so... Everything else apart from the shirt was from Amazon or just. Somewhere online(I have no idea where to get fancy white gloves LOL) and the shirt was from Depop as well! I liked how frilly it was, re: Noisette is cute like that!!

oh yeah and the wig. I hate wigs it was awful. I have no idea how to style them. underneath the hat was the most awful bowl cut ever I just. It wasn't my best moment. Dont ask me about wigs please .

Also I should mention I got this bag for the cosplay (which I now use all the time cuz its so cute) because i needed space to store shit and I wanted something on-brand with her cafe... this isnt the exact link I used but I just got it off of ebay :P

PROPS

Unfortunately I don't have a lot of WIP pictures of my props but they were pretty simple to make!! The coffee cup was literally just spraypainting over a reusable coffee cup and using POSCA pen to draw on the front! Fun fact the cup says "To Peppino" because originally my boyfriend was gonna go with me as Peppino before the Cruetly Squad brainrot got to him so. YEA

And the tip jar was also pretty simple, I just painted on the lid a plastic jar (can't be glass, not allowed at ComicCon) and cut out a bit of vinyl to work as the sign. The cobweb was just hot-glued 3D printer filament, and the spider was made with foam modelling clay (literally the best thing ever if you're making small models like that) and i stuck him to the lid of the jar with Kandi string so he'd bounce around :]

AND I THINK THATS IT!! i may as well post a pic of the full cosplay since I dont think many people would have made it this far.... But I think it turned out pretty cool!! I got recognised a few times as well which was amazing!! (cropped out my bf cuz idk if he wants his face on tumblr gfhhfg)

SO YEAH!!!! if anyone has any questions please let me know.. but GOOD LUCK IN UR COSPLAY MAKING FRIENDS!!!! :D

[geralehane]

Divorce, but Rhaenyra’s still fighting for them and Alicent finally gives them another chance

full disclosure: i listened to taylor swift’s ‘dress’ while writing this

“Mrs Hightower—‘ 

“It’s Ms Hightower, Coleen.”

The young assistant gulps. “Yes. Of course. I’m so sorry—“

Alicent sighs. “What is it, Coleen?” 

“Well,” the man - the boy, really, just a wisp over twenty one - falters, clasping his thin fingers together. He really tries, bless his heart. It can’t be easy being an assistant to them both. Not that Alicent had any say in that. 

“Well?” She prompts him when it becomes clear he won’t follow up. 

Coleen gulps again. “Mrs Targaryen is here for her scheduled meeting.” 

Of course she is. 

Alicent sighs again, glancing at the clock. “You how, technically, she is also Ms Targaryen,” she points out, unnecessarily and largely rhetorically. “Just - let her in, and you may go. I mean it, Coleen. It’s a quarter past six, why are you still here?” 

“Mrs Targaryen - I mean, Ms Targaryen — she really insists on being addresses as Mrs, you know, “ Coleen babbles, his face growing more and more red with each word, and - Gods, she really needs to make it easier for the lad. At the same time, perhaps Coleen would feel more comfortable with a different manager. 

“Fine,” she cuts him off just before he’s seemingly about to hyperventilate. “Please send her in.” 

Coleen barely squeaks out a goodbye as he dashes out of her office. An exact minute later, the self-proclaimed Mrs Targaryen waltz in like she owns the place - which, she will, in a couple of years at most. 

Alicent doesn’t even lift her head from the printed out financial reports. “I would appreciate it if you got right to it, Rhaenyra,” she says, her voice neutral. “I was hoping to finish early.”

Her ex-wife - and current headache - cocks her head to the right, looking very much like a very naughty, very self-assured puppy. “Oh? Have a hot date or something of the sorts?” 

“Not that it’s any of your business since we’ve signed those papers,” Alicent retorts, finally meeting Rhaenyra’s twinkling blue eyes, “but no. The only ‘hot date’ I have is myself.” 

That stupid smirk. “Speaking from personal experience,” Rhaenyra drawls, quietly, “it’s arguably the hottest date you’ll ever have.” 

Alicent sighs. Again. Seems like all she does lately is fucking sigh. “Rhaenyra.”

“Alicent.” 

“Is there an actual point to this charade, or are you simply exploiting another opportunity to harass me?” 

At that, Rhaenyra looks actually hurt; Alicent hates how the look on her stupid handsome face makes something deep within her chest twinge with guilt. 

A second passes, and it’s gone. Rhaenyra clears her throat and speaks. “I do have a work-related reason for this meeting, believe it or not. Spending time with you is just an added bonus.” Before Alicent can scoff and retort, Rhaenyra’s face grows serious. Actually serious. “I need your help.” 

Despite the sincerity of Rhaenyra’s gaze, Alicent snorts. “What could I possibly help you with?” 

“Financial fraud,” Rhaenyra says quietly. At Alicent’s frozen expression, she snorts. “Not committing it, obviously. But.” She glances around, which is honestly ridiculous considering thy are in a closed, very private office. “Look - I have reason to believe the Stepstones documents are… murky, at best. I need a trained eye to take a look at them.” Blue eyes search hers, earnest and serious for once. “You’re the best in the field. And, more importantly, you have my absolute trust.” 

Alicent can’t hold back a scoff. “Wish I could say the same,” she mutters under her breath. 

Rhaenyra hears. Judging by her tense jaw, she hates that remark. Yet, impressively, she lets it slide. “I can’t order a full-scale audit because they’ll just cover it up before it even starts. It can’t be anything official at this point. It has to be quiet. But if I’m right…” Alicent watches as Rhaenyra takes a deep, steadying breath. “That would mean enormous proceedings. Might mean actual sentences for some people. I’m barely holding Daemon back, at this point, but we’re running out of time — ”

“Gods,” Alicent interrupts her, with a roll of her eyes. “Daemon is involved?” 

“I couldn’t very well take it to my father, now could I?” 

“Could have been a wiser choice. Actually, let me rephrase that. Anyone but Daemon would have been a wiser choice.” 

“Well. I’m taking it to you, aren’t I?” 

Gods. She could never truly say no to Rhaenyra’s begging gaze. Unless your marriage was involved. 

Alicent swallows, and pushes that thought back to the back of her mind. “Fine. I’ll take a look,” she half-says, half-warns as Rhaenyra’s whole face lights up. “That’s it. And if it turns out to be a fluke, you owe me.” 

Blue eyes are alight with badly hidden longing. “I’ll owe you either way.” 

// 

Rhaenyra absolutely set this up on purpose. 

“I can quite literally find out if there’s any discrepancies if you get me excel files of all this,” Alicent points out, brow arched as she takes a look at all of the paper folders currently flooding her desk. “It would take me about an hour. Most of the work would be done by my laptop.” 

Her ex-wife blinks at her. 

“We don’t have access to those,” she says, innocently. “If Laena tries to download them, we’ll be breaking the law, too, won’t we?” 

Not really - at least not to any serious extent, Alicent doesn’t think. But it’s the sight of Rhaenyra clutching a folder in one hand and their takeout sushi in the other, suit jacket unbuttoned and tie skewed. 

Don’t lie to yourself, at least. Lie to anyone but yourself, Alicent. 

She sighs. “Fine. Let’s just get to it.” 

//

Rhaenyra starts her old song as early as their second night together, spent hunched over historical Stepstones reports. “You were always a vision in green, you know.” 

Alicent throws a chopstick her way without looking. “Do shut up, darling.” 

//

She doesn’t shut up. But Alicent should’ve known. And she had, really - had known all along what she had signed up for, why she has signed up for it, even. 

She just hasn’t anticipated, in all honestly, for this to blow over this spectacularly. 

“I was willing to work through this!” Rhaenyra all but shouts, jaw locked and fists clenched, top buttons of her shirt undone. Angry, aggressive, attractive. “You were the one who served me papers—“

“—After two years of neglect,” Alicent hisses right back. “Two years, Rhaenyra. Two years I stood by you and watched you self-destruct with no end in sight. You’d disappear for weeks, and then come back looking half-dead. You wouldn’t listen to me no matter how I tried, and so - I stopped trying.” 

For almost a minute, no one speaks. Alicent’s breath is ragged, and heavy, like it used to be back when they’d get into this. Rhaenyra is frozen, unmoving.

Then, she swallows. “I want to try,” she says, quiet and - pleading, almost. The silver of her hair is escaping her simple updo, and Alicent has to fight the urge to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. “I know - I know I was an absolute arsehole throughout this entire ordeal, but - I just,” she grins that self-deprecating grin that never failed to make Alicent want to soothe it with her lips, and really, is there even a point in fighting about this? “I can’t do this without you. Or - really, I can, but I don’t want to. You’re the only one I’ve ever really wanted. The only thing I ever truly needed was being with you.” 

And really, how is a woman supposed to turn that down?

Well, quite easily, of course, if it were simply that. But it’s not. For the past year, Rhaenyra has been consistently stepping up. From rehab to finally taking the rightful reins and accepting responsibility at Viserys’s company - being a pain in Alicent’s arse in the process notwithstanding - she’s been proving herself. 

And even if she hadn’t, Alicent has simply missed her wife too much to say no to this improved version of her.

//

It’s somewhere around round number three that Alicent finally figures it out. 

“The contractor companies,” she all but pants as Rhaenyra slowly nuzzles her neck, revving her up for round four. It's entirely unfair just how well she knows her body. “Rhaenyra. Wait. It’s not the income versus profits. It’s in the third-party payouts.” 

Rhaenyra’s sharp lips form the most textbook pout known to humankind. “Really,” she states more than asks. “You’re thinking about that now?” To further demonstrate her point, she digs her fingers into the flesh of Alicent’s naked hips under the hiked pencil skirt. 

Alicent gasps. And, after a quick yet wonderfully deep and dirty kiss pressed to Rhaenyra’s pout, she pushes her ex-wife off of her. 

“Oh, come on,” Rhaenyra complains, half-heartedly, but Alicent is already on her feet, back to her renewed mission. 

“Hush, you,” she throws over her naked shoulder. “You’ll get to have me as many times as you’d like once we head home.” 

Strong arms circle her waist while she pours over the papers with new determination. 

“Home,” Rhaenyra murmurs. “I quite like the sound of that. Would you like your mushy peas now, my love?”  

She presses a distracted kiss to Rhaenyra’s brow. “Yes, please. Thank you, darling.” 

“Also - see? It wasn’t just a ruse to get you back.” 

Alicent rolls her eyes at that, sparing her - ex? - wife an impatient glance. “As if you’d need a ruse,” she says. “I only agreed because I clearly knew where this would end up.” 

“With me knuckles deep inside y—“ 

“Peas, please. Now.” 

It’s only after another deep kiss that Rhaenyra wills herself to saunter off, a self-satisfied smirk firm on her lips. “I am deeply and irrevocably in love with you, Alicent Hightower,” she says, as they part. “Just so you know. Thought I’d make that perfectly clear.” 

“Oh,” Alicent says. 

“Shall I swing by your favourite chippy, too?” 

“Gods,” Alicent sighs. “You really do love me.” 

That stupid, lovely smirk. “I really, really do.” 

By the time Rhaenyra’s back, Alicent has it all figured out. As a thank you, Rhaenyra keeps her up till sunrise.