#have the chance to pass several times and instead you just dont but youre still clearly mad im not going fast enough

[jackass-jones]

Sometimes you just gotta drive home when it’s very dark and storming horribly while attempting to eat chicken nuggets and blare metal music

[dojunie]

MISDIAL; LJN [CH6] DND

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

college au

chaptered

very slow burn

genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven

warnings for this chapter; none

chapter wc: 11k

a/n: i don't even have an excuse. when i tell you i was struggling with this... anyway, to not dwell on the bad, lets talk about the good; i rewrote the ending and finally feel excited about it, so hopefully i dont face another deeply evil and unforgiving block again. thank you for sticking around :)

current tl: @hibernatinghamster / @jenoxygen / @eaglesnotravens / @donutswithjaminthemiddle / @jvjsssnaa / @huangrenhyucks / @luvenshiti / @shiningdery / @jaeminsbebu / @aliceinwhateverland / @bebsky / @gem-gem / @jkjkseo / @jenosbliss / @pewpewpwe00 / @ti–red / @philanarose / @softbbyg0rl / @aaasteroidsky / @carelessshootanonymous / @en-boyz / @jlsavyy / @roseymerrie / @bangchanisemo / @skuezk / @jaehyuns-adorable-dimples / @ourbeautifulaffair / @jeonnyread / @jvjsssnaa / @episkeyjeno / @bockhyun / @jenojammin / @zarastrawberry / @peachie-bear / @itadaramaterasu / @alymii / @cuteejeno / @episkeyjeno / @nohunlee / @ooojisoo / @luv4jeno / @jydivrs / @pinkysinnerbaby / @jenojenoyes / @maeyoung / @axmdocs / @nctzennikki09 / @tynlvr / @saucyjaeyun /

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OF ALL THE THINGS A GUY COULD CATCH YOU FAKING, BEING ASLEEP USUALLY ISN’T THE MOST MORTIFYING.

Usually, you take care to point out.

Because nine times out of ten, getting called out for pretending to be asleep is something to be mulled over with a laugh. Like when you pretend to doze off in the middle of a boring story to make your friends roll their eyes and get to the point, or when you’re young enough for it to still be feasible, in an attempt to get your parents to carry you to bed after a long car ride home. You know. That type of cute, charming thing.

But when there’s nothing cute or charming about the night you’ve just had, Jeno telling you point blank that he knows you’re awake (and has known you were awake the entire time) feels less like a joke that you’re both in on, and more like you’ve just been dropped naked into the middle of Times Square.

“Pizza doesn’t stay hot forever you know.”

Mortification rips through your body like a live current and you jerk around as if someone’s just cocked a shotgun behind your back.

You freeze afterwards, your head only turned enough just enough to peek over your shoulder, like there’s still some speck of a chance that Jeno isn’t actually talking to you— but that speck is swiftly sucked into the vacuum of reality when your eyes meet.

He’s smiling right at you. Eye-crescents and all. Arms folded over his chest, leaning back into the couch cushions like he’s just asked for you to change the channel instead of rouse from a fake nap.

“I was starting to think I’d have to roll you over.”

God forbid.

“How—” Your voice is several octaves too high for the feigned nonchalance you’re trying to push. You swallow. It doesn’t help. “How did you... know?”

“When I used to sleep over at your parents house I’d hear you snoring through the walls when I passed your room. Even through a foot of wood and plaster it still sounded like you were choking to death right out there in the hallway with me; after the pizza guy left I realized it was way, way too quiet in here. Put two and two together.”

On a different day this answer would’ve made your face burn for the next half an hour but considering the other bomb he’s just dropped, it doesn’t even register on the radar.

After the pizza guy left?

“You knew I was awake the entire time you were talking?”

“Of course.”

For five too-many beats, you’re staring at him like he’s just started speaking Simlish.

Your first instinct is to grimace, hard. Because how fucking stupid you must've looked curled up on the couch like that when he’d known from the very beginning that you were awake, stone still and pretending you couldn’t be seen like a toddler hiding behind the window curtains, Jesus— but before the embarrassment of that can really take shape and cringe you into a coma, the actual problem with his confession comes to light.

He… knew. He said all of that knowing that you were listening. High school, the graduation, the day you both met, everything.

He said he liked you back.

“What?” you finally manage. “But— Why? Why would you tell me all of that? Now?”

“Because after what happened on Saturday, I felt like I was being…” For the first time all night, maybe all week, Lee Jeno breaks eye-contact first. “I’m still having trouble figuring out the specifics but ‘unfair', might be the best fit. You told me how you felt and I only stood there and listened even though I knew I could’ve told you that it wasn’t nearly as unrequited as you thought, but I got nervous and then said something dumb and everything fell apart. Even if you still never talked to me again afterwards I needed to explain. To make sure you understood that it wasn’t just you who felt how you did.”

He laughs a little, sheepish, like he’s embarrassed. “I guess I overdid it with the trip through history, though. Just wanted you to know I was looking at you, too.”

You’re staring at him and he’s staring at the ground, neither of you seemingly knowing what to say to fill the following silence, when you see another thought shadow over his face and his gaze find you again.

“And I didn’t want you to think it was because of Mark.”

The mention of your brother snaps you out of your stunned reverie in an instant. "What?"

“I was scared of changing things between both me and you and me and him, back then. He didn’t tell me anything about you. I— That’s something I needed to say no matter what. I didn’t want you to think he’d do something like that.”

Without really meaning to, your eyes narrow.

Because. Well. Despite the words that have literally just left his lips about why you weren’t supposed to blame Mark for Lee Jeno never telling you how he felt while he still felt it, Mark Lee is already not your favorite person right now, and tar-like agitation bubbles to the surface anyway.

“So he might not have said anything to you. Okay. Sure. But because of the way he acted, you were under the impression that you’d lose him as a friend if you did like me. Right? You told me that yourself. You refused to even acknowledge the idea that you might’ve ‘liked me like that’ because it was clear how Mark felt about anyone who showed even the slightest interest in me. You said you ‘knew better.’”

You try to scoff. It comes out a little more like a sad, tired huff instead. “So yeah, actually, I think I will continue to think that Mark is the reason you didn’t say anything, because that’s the truth. He spent years and years and years finding something wrong with every guy who looked in my direction and because you felt like he’d throw you away too, you knew how I felt and did nothing when you felt the same way. No matter how you slice it, that’s what happened. That’s why I’m— That’s why I was so upset on the balcony. You understand that, right? Because if he hadn’t, Jeno, then things might’ve—”

Worked out for us, is what you’d been about to say, before you caught yourself.

Chills blossom up your spine. Wow. If those words aren’t a shrapnel-loaded bomb of obvious longing and regret, a flashing neon-sign clear with your inability to get the hell over the past, then you don’t know what is.

You must still be drunk. Or exhausted.

“He’s your best friend. We’re never going to see it the same way.”

The next words feel so heavy on your tongue, but you manage a smile anyway. “But you can forget about it now, if that’s what’s been keeping you up all week. Everything’s out now, right?”

Everything is clearly not out, if his split-second-too-long beat of silence means anything. But for your own sanity you pretend you don’t notice it. You pretend you can’t feel the tension underneath his perfectly blank expression, you pretend that your own secrets aren’t heating up in your mouth like hot coals, you pretend— like you’ve been doing a lot in his presence lately— that you’re completely fine with everything and anything and all of this especially. You’re fine.

You will be fine.

“Right,” Jeno says. “All out. So we’re… okay?”

“We’re okay.”

“No more avoiding?”

“Avoid—?”

Avoiding. Yeah. The past few hours have been such a clusterfuck that you nearly forgot the last six days of pointedly being anywhere other than where he was, pawning off the ‘coincidence’ on preparing for the showcase.

“I wasn’t… avoiding you. Not totally. Not explicitly. I was busy.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You haven’t looked in my direction once since last weekend. I was starting to think you’d seriously never talk to me again.”

You scowl. “Are you going to sit here and tell me you’re confused about why I might not have wanted to see you so soon after what happened on the balcony? Embarrassment was eating me alive. You should be lucky I stuck to being busy, instead of going with the Plan B of faking my own kidnapping.”

He laughs. Your eyes flicker back to him. The sound is soft and muted but it’s real; his eyes disappearing with it, the first time in what feels like days that the smile has really reached the rest of his face. It’s more reassuring than it has any right to be. When he says his next words, standing up to head for the kitchen, you can even manage a genuine smile in return.

“You didn’t sleep away your appetite, right?”

And of course you didn’t.

Actually, once you’re reminded of the pizza sitting on the coffee table (this time without anxiety subduing the hunger in your stomach) you realize that you’re properly ravenous; the last things you’d consumed today were a chocolate muffin and four cherry-flavored jello shots. And the hunger is clear, probably, in how you’re already halfway through a slice when Jeno returns with a pair of plates and two popped soda cans.

The game show (apparently European in production and definitely weirder than previously assumed) somehow becomes the main entertainment while you both eat; X-Men First Class isn’t brought up again despite it still clearly spinning around in the DVD player.

Things stay quiet.

Not the loaded kind of quiet, or any sort of painfully awkward silence. Just… quiet. Oddly relaxing. Much too comfortable. Once you’re done stuffing yourself, your fingers wiped of tomato sauce remnants and soda long ago finished, the couch pulls you further and further into its pillow-like cushions with every passing minute.

The first thing that either of you say after half an hour is when Jeno asks you for a translation for an English thing a contestant says that the subtitles don't catch, and your response comes after a badly stifled yawn. He, unfortunately, notices this.

“Why are you torturing yourself by staying up to watch this? If you’re tired, go to sleep.”

“M’ not that tired,” is your automatic reply. “And I want to know who wins. Cassandra needs that Prius.”

He sniffs under his breath, quietly, like you’re already asleep and he’s trying not to rouse you. You probably look half gone— you’re staring at the TV through slits, your posture on his couch closer to horizontal than vertical— but you don’t want to admit that you’re running on empty. Maybe it’s residual little-sister-ism, refusal to agree simply because someone else suggested it first, but admitting that you’re spent feels like defeat when he still looks completely conscious.

“This is a rerun.” Jeno clicks something on the remote. “Of a show from 2012. You could just look up what happened to Cassandra.”

“Not the same. I need to see her win live, so she can rub it into Helen’s face. She’s so snooty.”

A beat, and then Jeno hums. “She is snooty, yeah, but the show has another ten minutes left. She’s going to be snooty for another five of those before the finale. Why don’t you brush your teeth in the meantime? Since you’re not tired?”

The lilt of his voice makes you glance at him. It’s familiar. Mark trying to convince you not to eat an entire bag of candy at once, Mark trying to bribe you with a popsicle to get you to do your homework, Mark trying to trick you into accidentally getting ready for bed by challenging you to a race.

Distantly you wonder if this tone, too, is another thing Jeno has subconsciously picked up over the years from watching how your brother interacts with you.

“You don’t need to baby me, you know.”

“Of course I know. Only babies make up reasons to stay up when they’re clearly exhausted. You’re not a baby. Right?”

You can’t even glare. It would give away that he’s completely onto you. And yet, he smiles like he’s already got you in the bag.

“Exactly,” you mutter, “No babies here.”

“So you understand that Cassandra will still be around when you’re done washing up?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Come on.”

And he’s up off the couch before he can even catch your rolled eye. Annoying.

Even more annoying is the fact that he’s right. He didn’t say as much when he’d suggested you brush your teeth sooner rather than later, but you knew it was because he thought you didn’t have much longer in you, that you were going to be too far gone in fifteen minutes to have any energy left to get to your feet and wash up— once you get through opening the new toothbrush he gives you, speeding through scrubbing each of your molars with his absurdly fancy toothpaste (because of course he has Premium Ultra Mega Super White Charcoal Anti-Cavity in Spearmint and Sunshine sitting on his counter instead of a regular man’s Colgate, considering all of the perfect teeth sitting in his mouth)— and as soon as you flop back down onto the couch just in time to watch snooty Helen get her comeuppance, a physical weariness settles into your bones and all but cements you to the couch.

It’s so serious that you don’t even realize your eyes have closed until they fly open again at a shifting of the cushion beside you; Jeno, dropping a giant gray duvet on the couch after returning from the bathroom himself. A duvet. A blanket. Sweet, sweet, sleepy salvation.

“Thanks. This looks perfect.”

“Only one of those is for you.”

“One? There’s more than one here?”

“Yeah.”

You blink up at him. “Why?”

“Because I’m sleeping out here too?”

Holy crap. What? This almost makes you sit all the way up. “What sense does that make, in your own house? Why the hell would you sleep out here when you have a perfectly good bed twenty feet away?”

“Because it’s—” Only now does he seem to realize how odd this looks, “It’s sleepover etiquette.”

“Sleepover etiquette?”

“I don’t know,” he says quickly. “I didn’t make the rules, I’m just used to it happening like this. The only time I sleep in my own bed when someone is over is when Jaemin is here, because he’ll sleep in it even if I don’t, but anyone else, we just divvy it up on the couch. Sleepover etiquette. No one gets the bed, or everyone gets the bed.”

As crazy as it sounds right now, it rings true. At your own sleepovers, anything under five friends and you’d all be piling into the bed of whoever hosted the event: squishing together like giggly sardines, waking up and not knowing where one of you ended and the other one began. But Jeno equating this— your definite last-minute intrusion in his house— to a sleepover? Like this is some every weekend thing?

“As noble of a sacrifice as that is, I can’t ask you to sleep out here. You realize that I’m an interloper, right? That you’re doing me a favor by letting me crash here? Hardly the circumstances of a normal sleepover.”

A long second passes as he appears to genuinely think about this, and for a moment you think he’s going to take your advice and try to get a good night's rest after everything else you’ve demanded of him today, but—

“It’s normal to me. You’re sleeping here tonight. That makes it a sleepover. Which one of these do you want?”

Non-negotiable, he's saying. We’re both sleeping out here, take it or take it, punctuated by him flopping down onto the couch beside the pile of blankets. You want to sigh but you should’ve known. It’s chivalry until the end with Lee Jeno.

So you ignore your brain screaming about how weird this is, you and him out here bunking like buddies, and just take the blanket he hands you. You settle in underneath it, cozier than you’re willing to admit, and refocus your attention on the next thing that’s started on TV after the game show; something just as foreign and bizarre but entertaining enough to keep your attention until the near silence weighs down your eyelids instead.

Mark’s apartment is never this serene. Whether it’s the jet-like humming of the fridge out in the kitchen, or the noisy college students below you and their random but guaranteed twice-a-week smash tournaments, or the rattle of the air conditioner above your bed that you’ve been meaning to look at for nearly a month now.

The quiet is… nice. Weird, but nice. You can hear your own breathing. You can hear Jeno’s breathing too; shallow, slow, and even.

It’s how you know he’s still awake twenty minutes later.

He commented on your snoring but little does he know, he snores too— just not as violently. For the premier of Spider-Man Homecoming coming out on DVD, Mark had a celebratory sleepover in the basement of your parents house that you were cordially invited to (along with two of your own friends,) back in your sophomore year. You all huddled up amongst the couches and recliners with millions of blankets and billions of pillows, everyone just falling asleep wherever they laid; and though you could’ve sworn he’d been halfway across the room when you closed your eyes that night, you’d woken up the next morning with Jeno’s forehead pressed into your shoulder and nearly screamed.

You didn’t, though. You sucked it back down just in time.

Instead, you sat there and ogled him in the still-blue sunlight, reveling in how it was even possible for a human with such sharp bone structure to look so squishy when he slept.

It was also how you noticed that, when he’s asleep, his nose makes this tiny but unmistakable whistling sound— like a tiny person is up there blowing through a kazoo whenever he exhales.

There’s no whistle sound now.

“When did you stop liking me?” you ask.

And to his credit, even though you’re listening very hard for any sort of change, Jeno’s breathing doesn’t miss a measure. There’s just a second of silence before a quiet shift of fabric, maybe like he’s rolling over to face you, but you’re not sure because you’re staring at the ceiling like you might explode if your eyes meet. Which you might.

“I don’t know,” he says, just as plainly as you’d asked. “I don’t remember there being a day where I decided I should.”

“Okay.”

“What about you?” he’s surprisingly quick to add. “When did you stop liking me?”

“...Would it be a cop out if I just said the same?”

“Without a doubt.”

You manage to crack a smile, but a yawn cuts it off. “Sometime after your graduation, I think. I don’t have a concrete day for it or anything. I only remember realizing that while you were gone, I was thinking about you less and less. After a while the idea of you stopped…” Hurting, as much. “Hovering.”

“Right,” he says. “Yeah. That makes sense." He clears his throat. "That you’d forget me a little, I mean. Once you started going out more.”

Another yawn on your end. This time your eyes aren’t as eager to reopen, and the exhale saps the very last ounce of energy you’ve got. What time is it? One? One-thirty?

Majorly past your bedtime.

“I didn’ forget you,” you reply belatedly, but it comes out more like a murmur, a little lost in the noise of you shifting around to get more comfortable. “There’s no forgetting someone like you.”

If he said something in response it was either too quiet to be heard through your cocoon of blankets or simply came after you fell too deep into the first REM cycle. Distantly you thought you heard something, a breath of an answer, but by the time you placed it as a possibly whispered, “You either,” you were already much, much too far gone.

Pancakes.

You wake up to the smell of pancakes.

Jeno’s apartment looks so different in the sunlight that for a second, even though the memories of last night trickle back faster than expected once you open your eyes, you almost don’t recognize the place when you sit up.

Snapshots pop into your brain like fireworks as the seconds tick on; the showcase, the party, punching Jeon Soyeon in the face. Your brother’s best friend driving you to his house as you cried in the aftermath, confessing his feelings two years past the expiry date, the both of you falling asleep out here like you’re a couple of old pals who do this sort of song and dance all the time.

In the span of 24 hours, you’ve faced more highs and lows than you have all year.

And before you can even wipe the crusties from your eyes, the worry sets in.

Soyeon wasn’t popular for no reason— would her minions be coming after you, now? Had they already started? Bombarding your social media, spreading rumors, flocking protectively around their Queen Bee after you dared to lose your temper on her last night? What fresh hell would you be walking into when you finally checked your phone?

And what about Somi? You’d probably left her with quite the mess after causing such a scene; did the party continue alright? Did you ruin the cheerful atmosphere? You didn’t even get to say goodnight.

And… And Mark, too.

But you weren’t even sure where to start when it came to him.

God. Maybe for the sake of your currently-not-awful mood, you should just not start. About him, or last night, or any of the things that are surely going to be a pain in the ass to deal with in the following days. Those headaches will still be there in a few hours— sorting out the most immediate issue of the person who’s house you’re hiding in, will not.

It’s a sunny, cloudless morning in Seoul.

You turn to the smell of the pancakes and find Jeno standing in his kitchen with one earbud in, back to you. He’s bobbing his head and murmuring under his breath as he flips the batter in the pan, head to toe in what looks to be work-out gear; black leggings under charcoal basketball shorts, one of those skin tight athletic tanks stretched taut across what you can see of his shoulder blades from your dent in his couch.

You’re in the middle of being annoyed at how broad he is when, despite being careful to not to ruffle the blankets or anything, Jeno glances behind him. You’re caught off guard by it— because what the hell? Does he have a secret eyeball hiding amongst those locks of inky black hair?— but then you belatedly understand that it’s the lack of noise that’s tipped him off. With how violently you snore, a sudden silence is basically your jingling cat-bell of attention. Annoying.

“I was just about to wake you up,” he says. “Do you mind flipping the last few of these so I can take a shower really quick? Breakfast is just about done.”

“You went to the gym?”

It’s less a question, more of an observation, but Jeno hums in agreement. “The one in the building, I didn’t leave you for too long. I would’ve waited until tonight if I didn’t already know that you never wake up before 11.”

There’s a momentary blip of something odd in your brain at the concept of him just knowing something like that about you, but it’s gone— by force— as fast as it appears.

“Okay. Just have to flip?”

“Just have to flip.”

And so you just flip. Jeno passes you with a smile as he leaves the kitchen, looking the perfect picture of casual, as if this is an everyday experience. It’s so casual that it makes you wonder how this might look to an outsider, someone with no context for what last night was like— and then it makes you acutely aware of how loudly the 15 year-old version of you would be hollering right now if she could see five years into the future and witness this scene herself. You, in Jeno’s clothes, flipping pancakes in his kitchen on a beautiful Saturday morning, as he showers in the bathroom you’d shared last night, washing the toil and sweat of physical exertion off of his body.

Yeah. Without context? 15 year-old you probably would’ve screamed until her head exploded.

Jeno thankfully isn’t gone for long, and by the time you hear the faucet turn off, you’ve finished with the very last pancake. You pile it on top of the half a dozen others, a beautiful stack of fluffy dough and sugar. (And, okay, sure, you’d gotten a liberal with the chocolate chips on the last few after realizing you’d misjudged the cooking time on some of the earlier ones and left them chocochipless, overcompensating by pouring all of the remaining dollops into the last two or three for the sake of not wasting them— but whatever. Even with the gooey, more-chocolate-than-bread pancakes sitting on top, your work could surely still make the cover of a Martha Stuart cookbook.)

You don’t see him come out because you’re moving the plate of food to his dining table, but you know he’s close because he laughs when he spots the brown pancakes. You know he’s laughing at the brown pancakes, because:

“You’re really pushing the limit of what can be considered breakfast with that last one there, don’t you think?”

“You’re not going to care what meal of the day this is once you actually taste it.”

“Why? Because it’s hard to tell the time when you’re in a sugar-induced coma?”

You sniff. “If you’re so worried about your health you could always let me have it. I made a few that don’t have any chips. You can have those sad ones then.”

A moment passes and you turn to look at him. Bad choice. Hip bones and pale skin everywhere— it’s like a flash-bang of narrow waist, courtesy of Jeno raising his arms (and therefore the hem of his t-shirt) to dry the last drops of water from his hair with the towel he’s brought out with him. You rip your eyes back to setting the table before he notices, feeling like your eyeballs have just been physically zapped.

“I never said I was worried about my health,” he replies, wandering a little further into the kitchen. “Split it with me?”

There’s no need for that. There’s like, three of them. We can each have one. But for some reason you instead say, “Only if I get the half that has more chips.”

“I thought that was already obvious,” he smiles in return.

Fifteen minutes later, with two-thirds of your stack messily decimated and his entire plate basically as clean as it was when it came out of the cupboard, Jeno must decide that your morning of peace has gone on for long enough.

“Mark called me last night,” he announces.

(Technically he says it very normally, at a perfectly acceptable volume for general conversation, but because you’d both lapsed into silence after a few sentences of small talk at the table— a compliment from him about your showcase, about how cool you’d looked up there, how impressive your choreography was; a mumbled thanks from you, that there was another one happening after winter break— it comes out like an announcement anyway. An announcement you’re none too happy to hear.)

You’re hoping he doesn’t notice how your face goes a little stiff. “Did he?”

“Mm. He said he got worried because you weren’t answering your phone.”

You probably would’ve been dodging his calls regardless but the truth is that your phone is still somewhere in Gawon’s car and has probably been since before the party even started. You’d realized that last night, after changing your clothes in his bathroom and not finding it in any of your jacket’s nooks and crannies; seeing in your mind the exact door pocket you’d left it in, then thinking you’d definitely remember to grab it before you got out. You didn’t.

You could only imagine the carnage of notifications you’ve amassed since last night.

“And?”

“And, once I told him you were alright here, he said he’d leave a voice message that he wanted me to pass on to you. I told him I’d let you hear it in the morning once you had the energy, after you slept off whatever was in your system.”

Hesitantly, you meet his eyes.

“Are you ready for that?” he asks carefully. “I haven’t listened to it, if you want to be alone when it plays.”

“What’s the point in that? It’s not like he isn’t going to relay my scolding to you later anyway. Press it.”

“He’s not going to scold you—”

You flick your gaze at him, silently asking if he really wants to get into this again, and apparently he thinks better of whatever gushingly optimistic sentence he’d been about to follow up that observation with. “Please just press it.”

He presses it.

“Hey— Hey, tiger.”

And then Mark is here. Vocally. In the flesh. Through the uncomfortably clear speakers in his best friend’s phone.

“I hope you’re doing better than you were when I last saw you.”

The cadence of his voice twists up your lungs for a reason you can’t immediately place, and then you realize it’s because he’s speaking in English, which he only resorts to when he has too many things to say and not enough ways to say them. This makes your insides sink even further.

“Listen, before I get sidetracked, I want you to know that I know what I did was… stupid. The last thing I should’ve done was help her up after what she said, but I— I was so angry that I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t know about any of… that stuff, you and her hanging out or whatever, until she said it, and that probably would’ve ticked me off anyway because of some other things I had going on with her, but then she mentioned whatever happened there— that she apparently left you at some night club, alone, with some fucking guy—?”

A sigh and a ruffle this time, like he’s passing his hand over his face in agitation. It takes so much for him to curse in front of you and yet he’d just dropped the most serious one of them all like it was nothing. But while this would usually send your blood running cold, it doesn’t. Because it… it kind of doesn’t sound like he’s actually mad at you. What?

“I asked her if it was true because I was so... Honestly I didn’t realize how it looked until after you left, you know? Like I was siding with her or something? I asked her if it was true because I couldn’t believe that she’d do something like that to you. Not because I would’ve ever trusted her word over yours or something, she’s already proven… God, okay, this message is already at like, two minutes…”

Another sigh. This one is much more miserable than the previous.

For some stupid, distant reason, as the shock wears on from the realization that he isn’t mad at you, you find yourself wondering if Jeno is having a hard time following along. The only class he’d ever come close to failing in high school was English.

“Can you just call me? Please? Or better yet, can you just let Jeno drive you home? I’ll explain everything so much better once you’re in front of me. M’ sorry, again that I… You’ve got a great right hook by the way. You shouldn’t have punched her, violence is never ever the answer. But she was leaking like a faucet for long after you left, Tiger— might’ve snapped something in there. Really laid her out.” A short, weak laugh, and then,“Yeah. Please call. Or come home? Please.”

The message ends with a cheerful beep.

And you sit there in silence for a good, long moment.

Because that wasn’t anything like the drawing-and-quartering you were expecting.

If anything, Mark actually sounded angry on your behalf. He’d helped Soyeon up, probably without thinking, because he was asking her if she’d really done something that awful to you. Not because he actually…

“You’re gonna let me do what he wants right?”

Jeno’s expression had, at some point during your staring off into space, contorted the closest you think you’ve ever seen it get to an outright, I told you so. And you guess he did. You didn’t get scolded.

“I— I was going to stop at my friend's house to get my phone,” you say, still a little shocked. “Left it in her car last night before I got to the party.”

“Where does she live?”

“Gamyeon.”

Jeno only shrugs. “We'll pitstop then.”

“You— You’re going to drive me all the way to Gamyeon?”

“Isn’t it only twenty minutes out of the way?” He blinks. “How were you going to get it before I was going to take you home?”

“I… I was pretty gungho about sneaking out of here at the crack of dawn via Uber, last night?” It comes out like a guilty question. “I had a bit of a plan of action. But that was before I woke up to the smell of pancakes, of course…”

“The pancakes you didn’t know I was making until half an hour ago? At 11AM?” he asks innocently. “If what you really mean is that getting up at the crack of dawn turned out to be a little ambitious for you, you can just—”

Jeno laughs as your hand shoots out to swat him. He smartly decides to change the subject, and this new topic ends up being about the dishes; specifically about him loading them into the dishwasher while you go and gather your belongings into the little drawstring book bag he’d left by the bathroom for you. When you ask him why you don’t just change back into what you had on last night so he doesn’t have to go without his hoodie and sweatpants for however long it takes you to do laundry, he shrugs it off. “You look more comfortable in this than the dress. And I’m at your place more often than I’m in my own, it’s not like I’ll miss it for too long. Keep it for now.”

(And you can’t argue with that. Especially not when he’s right. These sweatpants are way nicer than the tightly ribbed-nylon of Gawon’s mini dress.)

While brushing your teeth, you wonder what to do with the toothbrush.

Leaving it feels… odd. In a stupid way it almost feels like you’d be leaving it to return to. Like there’s any chance that after today you’ll ever be spending another unannounced night in this apartment, which there isn’t if you’ll have anything to do about it. But taking the toothbrush with you, or throwing it away, feels weird too.

In the end you decide to just toss it in your bag and take it back to Mark’s. Jeno won’t say anything about it, you know he won't, but if he miraculously does seem to care, you can just say that you’ve been meaning to get a new toothbrush and that it’s not like he has any use for this one anymore anyway. Maybe you’ll even offer to give him five bucks to make up for the thievery. (God, why are you thinking so hard about this? Like he's going to waste his time chasing you down for a fucking toothbrush?)

And after all that brainpower he doesn’t even say anything. Once he comes out after using the bathroom himself, if he’s even noticed it missing he doesn’t let it show. He just asks if you’re ready to go, and when you nod, that’s the end of it. He leads you out, follows you down the corridor, and then pushes the button for the elevator to come and pick you both up. Easy as pie.

It’s only when you’re in the descending cabin that it hits you, that this is the last time you’ll be here.

You try not to think too hard about why your lips inherently want to frown at that idea.

Twenty minutes to Gamyeon feels more like five, with how much catastrophizing you’re doing in the passenger's seat. Soyeon and her crew will have surely started the city-wide search for you by now, right? Should you be telling Jeno to take back roads? To roll his windows up on this beautiful late August afternoon, so no one from SNU recognizes either of you from the party and tries to run you both off the road? God.

“Can I borrow your phone?” you blurt.

And even though you’d literally asked him for it, you’re a little astounded when he just hands the thing over without question. You shouldn’t be though. He’d done the same thing with the music change request three weeks ago.

(Still no password, either, when you swipe at the screen. What is this guy's problem?)

“Do you need to call someone?”

“No,” you murmur, already scanning through the pages to find Twitter, “I want to see if Soyeon put a hit out for me yet.”

“What? Why would she do that?”

You blink over, a little dubious that even someone as sweet as him can’t fathom why Soyeon could have it out for you after what you did, but he doesn’t look like he’s joking.

“Uh, I don’t know, Jeno. There’s a possibility that she might be a little upset since I punched her in the face a few hours ago.”

“You didn’t even hit her that hard.”

You balk at him. “Did you not hear the part where Mark said I might’ve broken her nose?”

“I did.”

“And it’s confusing to you that she might be really, really mad at me for that?”

“No,” Jeno mutters. “It’s confusing to me that you think she wouldn’t have come to her senses by now, considering how close she came to getting her ass kicked last night. As far as she knows the only reason you didn’t get to finish her off was because I got in your way. If Soyeon isn’t stupid, she’ll understand that it’s in her best interest to stay off your radar from now on.”

He sounds so unsympathetic that your jaw nearly drops. And he’s not even done. Like your worry has uncorked his own agitation, now.

“I wouldn't have pulled you off of her if I’d known that she was the one who sent that freak out after you behind the bar, by the way. I didn’t hear anything either of you said before you hit her. if I knew why, I would’ve let you get a few more swings in, at least. Sorry.”

“Sorry! You’re apologizing for not letting me beat someone else up?”

“Yes,” he says unflinchingly. “This once. Don’t go around getting in fights for the hell of it though, I won’t be there to haul you to the cool-down corner every time.”

He’s joking now, lightness returning to his smile as he turns into Gawon’s neighborhood, but you’re still a little stuck on how serious he’d gotten just now. Never in your life would you have expected Jeno to be in your corner when it came to your less than stellar impulse control; and not only condone it, but applaud it, just because Soyeon had done something that could’ve gotten you hurt.

...Jeez. Something like appreciation (but more ravenous and embarrassing) worms its way into your heart. You allowed it to simmer there for a one warm, full second before stamping it out with the heel of self-preservation.

You don’t even get to check Twitter. Gawon’s apartment building is more squat than most, only four cozy stories all encapsulated within an open-air stairwell, which means you can keep an eye on Jeno’s car all the way up to your friend’s front door. Coming unannounced, you’ve already prepared yourself for the possibility of her not being home (and therefore having to deal with her scary roommate instead) but thank God, it’s her round sleepy face that opens the door after your quick three knocks against the wood.

She doesn’t remain sleepy looking for long though.

"Holy shit!” And without greeting, Gawon yanks you into her house. “You— Well, first things first, you’re here for your phone, right? Let me go and get it, I brought it inside, but bitch, you have some explaining to do!”

Considering how loud she’s being, the scary roommate must not be home this weekend. You wince. You’ll be getting the full degree, then.

“People are texting me that I haven’t talked to in months just because they know I’m friends with you! Does that make sense?”

“It’s that bad?” you ask warily, as she disappears into her bedroom.

“Bad? Is what bad?”

“Soyeon’s warpath.”

“Soyeon?” Gawon returns to her living room with your phone in hand, eyes wider than you’re expecting. “Uh. No. After last night—” She frowns. “You haven’t talked to your brother yet?”

“No? I haven’t been home since before the showcase. And your car ate my phone so I haven’t really talked to anyone else since last night either.”

But her eyes get even bigger, if that’s possible.

“So you have no idea what happened after Lee Jeno plucked you out of there, then?”

“No.” Your grimace is nearly audible as you sit down, sensing trouble. “You guys didn’t just laugh, turn the music up, and party even harder? You know, like I was hoping you’d all do after that mess I caused?”

“Oh, yeah, we did that,” Gawon says with an unconvincingly casual shrug, before finding your eye and trying (and failing) to hide her widening grin. “After your brother tore Soyeon apart in front of everyone for fucking you over!”

“He— What?”

“Dude, it was crazy, Mark— I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him raise his voice even once but the second the door shut after Jeno took you away, whatever it was she said that made you punch her finally seemed to compute in his head, you know? And he just went, ‘You left her alone with someone she told you was creeping her out?’ like, so loudly that you’d swear it was just the two of them in that whole house!”

For the second time in ten minutes, your jaw has hit the floor.

“And I thought Soyeon would start yelling back at him or something, but she’s just standing there staring at him like she’s stunned, probably that it’s him of all people laying into her, saying that he almost can't believe how selfish and pitiful she is, but oh yeah, yes he can, because only someone that doesn’t have respect for themselves would do she did to him last year; that he would’ve helped her if she just asked. And you should’ve seen her face when he said that. It looked like she’d seen a ghost.And he didn’t even air out whatever it was that she did, which I’m salty about, because… What did she do, you know? I’m so curious! But whatever, that’s not even the best part.”

Not the best part? How? This is pretty fucking insane to you already.

“Mark backed up after dropping that bomb like he was about to leave, to go after you maybe, but then he turned and got right back in Soyeon’s face, and said, ‘I don’t want to see you in front of her again, Soyeon. Take this advice as my parting gift, yeah? Because she’s not going to let you get away with only a graze next time, and you better believe that I’m not going to get in her way either.’” Gawon squeals. “All badass like that, I almost fucking screamed! He and all his friends left after that but I swear everyone was talking about it for the rest of the party. Your brother probably has quite a few new admirers…”

You’re staring at her in an awed silence. Mark stood up for you, too. After hearing everything Soyeon said, he still stood up for you. It really wasn’t like how you thought it went at all.

A few hours ago you’d thought your brother was done with you for real, and that Soyeon would be coming for you with pitchforks for embarrassing her in front of all those people at Somi’s party. And now you’re learning that, without your input at all, those two problems have sort of canceled each other out. Your brother threatened Soyeon into leaving you alone on your behalf.

(And if you weren’t so weirdly flattered, you might’ve been incredibly offended. What is it with him and Jeno and talking like you’re some sort of rabid dog that goes around fucking people up for fun? You’re not that violent!)

“That’s… kind of awesome,” you admit, trying not to smile as you stand up from her couch. “And very, very reassuring. Thanks for the rundown. Maybe I’ll actually be able to show my face on campus on Monday without worrying that I’m about to be struck by a G-Wagon.”

Gawon laughs as she follows you back to the entryway. The two of you chat about a few smaller things before you tell her you have to go, mostly about the plans for dance class on Monday now that the showcase is over and how worried Somi was about you after you left in such a tizzy last night, when she stops you right after cracking open her front door.

“But you know,” she begins, “None of that was what I was referring to when I said you had some explaining to do, missy.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No! Well, people were talking about it, sure, but not nearly as much as the other thing you did in front of everyone last night.”

“Which was?”

“Elope.”

You blink at her.

“I’m talking about the denim-wearing superhero that swooped in to save you from yourself. Hello? Lee Jeno?”

Oh. Your expression flips from confusion to alarm in the blink of an eye.

“People were talking about that? What is there to talk about? He’s my brother's friend!”

“Duh. That’s why people were talking about it. You know how much they love to make up stories about who-was-seen-doing-what-with-who. And honestly even as your friend I have to say that it was pretty fucking crazy last night watching this guy practically teleport across the room to get to you. And yes, you argue that he’s your brother's friend, blah blah, it’s obvious that he’d help, blah, but you fail to notice that Lee Jeno was standing around in a group of all your brother's other friends too. Why didn’t any of the others do something, then? Why specifically Lee Jeno— especially when that guy is the most quiet and subdued of the lot of them? Everyone was tittering about that.”

Her face slips into something a little more suspicious when you only swallow unsurely. Unsure, because you actually don’t know either. You, obviously, had been a little preoccupied before Jeno appeared behind you; you had no clue what he or the others had been doing in the moments before he hauled you outside. Learning that he’d been the only one out of all of them to jump into action makes you feel off-center.

“But as the awesome friend that I am, I told all the people who came up to me looking for details to get lost, because I’d obviously be one of the first to know if you had something going on with Basketball Hottie, and I don’t. And I was telling the truth, right? I would know if something was going on there. Right?”

“Of course!” you reassure quickly. “Which is why you don’t know. Because nothing is going on there. Nothing will be going on. Ever.”

She squints.

“I’m serious! Jeno’s just a really good guy. Super chivalrous, down to the bones. He takes his duty as Mark’s best friend very personally, so he gets involved in stuff with me that the others might not figure out as fast. It’s nothing crazy.”

Another beat passes before she unfurls her arms. “…Okay. I mean, I assumed as much. It makes sense. Especially since Somi said you’ve all known each other for something like, a hundred years— no wonder that he’d basically see you as a sister too after so long, I guess.”

You’re not at all expecting that statement to sting, but it does, in a surprisingly raw way.

At least Gawon doesn’t notice your smile falter, because she’s too busy asking her final question as you step out past her front door. “How’d you get here this early, anyway? Cab?”

“Ah, no. Jeno—”

It comes out without thought, a millisecond before you realize the mistake you’re about to make. Both you and Gawon freeze, staring at each other in the silence that follows, before she goes, “Jeno brought you here? But you said you didn’t go home last night.”

Then, as your head swung back and forth in refusal but no explanation came out with it, she tilted her own head in disbelief. “Where… Where did you sleep, then?”

And the final killing blow comes as her eyes drift down almost absentmindedly to the chest of your gray sweatshirt. Jeno’s sweatshirt. Seoul National University Basketball, it says, splashed boldly across the front. Direct. Recognizable. Unmistakable.

You turn around and start to run right as Gawon gasps in pure, wanton betrayal. There’s no explaining this. Not now. Not today. Even if you had an hour to spare right now to sit down and relay every second that passed last night in a way that made her understand this absolutely isn’t what it looks like— which is that you’re totally lying about nothing going on between you and Lee Jeno— Gawon only believes what her eyes physically see in front of her, and even you aren’t naive enough to think that this won’t be the most glaringly suspicious thing she has ever seen.

You’re halfway down the stairs when her voice catches up with you.

“It’s nothing crazy, huh? It’s nothing crazy, you liar! Just wait until I catch you on Monday, girl! We’ll see exactly what’s not crazy between you and Mr.Chivalrous!”

Approximately two minutes after closing the front door behind yourself after walking into your brother’s apartment, you’re crying again. Mark is too. He’s the one that started it. It’s just a lot of tears all around.

Everything kind of comes out at once. It begins as spewed apologies on both ends for last night specifically— him for ever letting things get bad enough that you’d genuinely think he’d ever choose someone else over you, and you for being such a brat for the last few weeks (the last few months) when you’d always known deep down that he only ever did the things that annoyed you out of desire to keep you safe— and then it unfurls into apologies for everything, eon-old grudges that were held for no other reason than something to lord over the others head, grievances that turned out to just be the miscommunications, the type of things that immediately stop mattering in the long run when people remember that they can lose each other easier than they think.

After about a half an hour of this (what Mark used to call ‘coming home’ when you were younger, the inevitable rekindling after a period of heightened fighting between you both) you both come away with a few things to think about.

For him? It’s official. You’re not a kid anymore, and he shouldn’t still be treating you like one. No more attempting to put curfews on you, or telling you where you can and can’t go, or telling his friends to censor themselves when they’re over because of your precious and innocent ears, amongst his other million older-brother-isms. You’re both adults now. He can suggest things. He can speak to you like he would his friends about the things you do that worry him. No more lectures. (Unless you do something really, unarguably stupid, he caveats.)

For you? A serious, genuine attempt towards better decision making.

You’ve been bestowed a new motto to ponder every time an opportunity arises for mischief in your life. What Would Mark Lee Do? A question meant to make you really think about whether the thing you’re thinking about doing is going to make your brother crazy. And if it is? Then you have to tell him about it in advance, so he can at least bail you out if it goes belly up.

And that’s honestly perfectly fine with you.

The last rule he slips in revolves around your tendency to disappear without warning. Absolutely no more sneaking around, he says. If you exit this apartment when he’s not home, he gets to know about when and where. Not because I don't trust you, he’d been quick to add, but because the world itself can be a scary place sometimes. Which you don’t exactly… disagree with. Especially after this most recent incident at Nabi Bar.

You’d pushed back a little bit on this one though, preemptively annoyed by the thought of having to text him every single time you leave— your friends liked spontaneity, early morning brunches or midnight-sets at EDM pop-ups— and you were a chronic charger-forgetter, often running out of this place with only thirty-percent or less to your name. You didn’t like the idea of his trust teetering on nothing but your (admittedly sub-par) ability to remember to do certain things before you left the house.

Mark only pulled his own phone out in response.

You watched him tap a few things, swipe, and then turn the screen around to show you the order he’d just placed for two succinct little items: a brand new Apple AirTag and a cute, neon-green pom-pom keychain to stick it into.

“To match the color of your phone case,” he said cheerily. “Put it on your keys, and you’ll never have to worry about forgetting! Perfect, right?”

Yep, you smiled sarcastically. Perfect. Like one might an excitable dog, or a toddler with a tendency to run, you’ve been given your very own tracker.

(He knows you’re kidding. It’s built into the Little Sister Gene to complain, but in the grand scheme of things, you’re actually rather pleased by the compromise. Less secrets means less stress, and it’s not like he’s doing it so he can watch you like a hawk or anything— it’s for those times he can’t reach you and just wants to know where you are. You’ll wear that pretty little piece of technology on your wrist like the hottest new Cartier bangle if it means going where you want, when you want, without worrying about worrying your brother.)

It’s half past one when the conversation loosens up to other things, like you demanding the play-by-play of what he’d said to Soyeon and him flushing up to his ears as obliged, embarrassed in hindsight by how angry he’d gotten (but not regretting it, he’d sheepishly admitted), and then to the concept of lunch, Mark offering to fry something up while you get a head-start on the mountain of homework you’ve been neglecting for studio time ahead of the showcase.

It’s a quiet afternoon, which you’re thankful for. Whether it’s because Mark simply hadn’t planned for the others to come over or because he expressly told them not to, it ends up just being you two, a family-sized bag of Doritos, and a few episodes of Running Man.

(You hadn’t realized just how much you missed it until then. How much you missed him. How long it’s been since you’ve done something like this without waiting for the other shoe to drop— for him to get mad at you for something you did or didn’t do, for you to get mad at him for getting mad at you. And it’s kind of embarrassing tearing up while people fall and slip and slide through an obstacle course covered in dish soap, so you tell Mark that it’s because you got a fleck of cool ranch dust in your eye when he turns to look at you after your sniffle comes out a bit wet.

It’s obvious that he doesn’t believe you, and a week ago you can’t help but think that this would’ve led to an interrogation. Is something wrong? What happened? Did something happen? Are you in trouble again? What did you do?

But today he lets it go. He stares at you for a second, hands you a napkin, pinches your cheek, and then lets it go.

And that almost makes you cry again for real.)

The evening sun creeps down in the sky like a thief, a cloudless day melting into a brilliant dusk; all of the windows in Mark’s apartment are drawn and the living room is lit up like the inside of a tangerine lamp. You’re lazing around on the couch while your brother showers, deeply entrenched in a Cup Pong battle Somi (which had only come about after she facetimed you, demanding that you spill all detail about what the hell happened while she was down in the car park last night, to which you’d somewhat begrudgingly relayed the story yet again: Mark, Soyeon, The Punch, Jeno, Jeno’s apartment, etc., and she’d cursed at you for being apologetic for causing a scene in her house because ‘that bitch totally deserved it,’ she insisted) when an unexpected name pops down from the top of your screen.

An unexpected name boasting an even more unexpected message.

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] Found your earring in my bathroom

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] Guess it fell out sometime last night

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] You want me to come drop it off tonight?

[You, 7:12PM] ???

[You, 7:12PM] what sense does that make

[You, 7:12PM] you would come over here just to drop off a singular earring??

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] Juyeon is throwing a house warming party three blocks from you guys, I'm already in the area

[You, 7:12PM] oh. well. it’s not like you don’t come over every other day anyway

[You, 7:12PM] just bring it with you next time

[You, 7:12PM]…thank you for finding it though

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] No problem

That’s more definitive of a metaphorical hanging-up of the phone than anything, isn’t it? You thought so for about thirty solid seconds, scrolling back over to your thread with Somi and distractedly taking another shot at Cup Pong, before you were proven wrong.

[Lee Jeno,7:13PM] Okay I was also asking because I wanted to see if you were alright

[Lee Jeno,7:13PM] You and Mark, I mean

[Lee Jeno,7:13PM] After I dropped you off this morning I already felt a little bit like I’d thrown you into a pressure cooker with nothing but a thumbs up

[Lee Jeno,7:13PM] Then he texted the group chat an hour later to tell all of us to get lost, that his place was off limits for the rest of the day even though he’d already had a movie night planned. I figured that meant your chat with him either went really, really poorly, or that you two were just catching up and didn’t want to be interrupted

[Lee Jeno, 7:13PM] I thought if I saw you with my own eyes I’d know the difference, but with just the text alone, I’m having a hard time…

Oh. Wow. He’s never texted you this many words or this many times before. And just to check in, too?

[You, 7:14PM] no need to worry !! we made up in a pretty big way actually

[You, 7:14PM] after you left we had the big sit-down and figured a lot of things out

[You, 7:14PM] he probably told you not to come over because he has like eight million Tiktoks he’s been wanting to show me that he couldn’t because we were fighting, and now that we’re okay again he plans on holding me hostage until I laugh at every single one

[You, 7:14PM] these last few hours have been a bit of a nightmare in that sense but otherwise it’s

[You, 7:14PM] good?

[You, 7:14PM] we’re good

[You, 7:14PM] thanks to you

[Lee Jeno, 7:14PM] I’m just happy to be the chauffeur. Nothing to thank me for

Well… Not quite. Usually you can let the bone-deep chivalry slide, it’s his ‘thing’ after all, but this time the consequences of what could’ve happened are too big to ignore.

[You, 7:14PM] there really is, though

[You, 7:15PM] i don't think Mark and I would’ve gotten out of this as intact as we are without you this weekend

[You, 7:15PM] i really, really do need to thank you

[You, 7:15PM] for this morning

[You, 7:15PM] and for last night

More memories flutter by, different iterations of Lee Jeno unarguably saving your ass from some sort of peril, and you grimace further.

[You, 7:15PM] and two weeks ago, for Nabi Bar.

[You, 7:15PM] and last week, for Wooyoung’s party

[You, 7:15PM] thanks for… everything, really.

[You, 7:15PM] i’m happy you’re Mark’s friend

His bubble comes up for a long, long time after your last message. You watch it disappear and reappear at least twice before his next message comes in… and even then it’s woefully short for how long he’d taken to type it.

[Lee Jeno, 7:16PM] What do you mean?

[You, 7:16PM] i mean that I’m happy Mark… has you

[You, 7:16PM] there aren’t many people that would be nearly as cool as you’ve been about babysitting their best friends sibling so many times, is what I’m saying

[Lee Jeno, 7:16PM] But I wasn’t babysitting you.

Oh. Is that what this air of confusion is about? Semantics? Jeno, the thoughtful guy that he is, not wanting you to see what happened this weekend as babysitting because he doesn’t want to hurt your big-girl feelings?

[You, 7:17PM] ah

[You, 7:17PM] okay

[You, 7:17PM] we won’t call it that, then!!

[You, 7:17PM] Mark is still lucky to have you though

[Lee Jeno, 7:17PM] I didn’t do anything that I did last night because I was thinking about your brother

Again, you can only blink. A reply from Somi pops down for half a second before you swipe it away to reread Jeno’s last text, sitting up in confusion.

[You, 7:12PM] then why did you do it?

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] Because it was you

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] Nabi Bar, Wooyoung’s, last night, all of it. Everything. The only thing I was thinking about was you.

[Lee Jeno, 7:12PM] Mark didn’t have anything to do with it. He stopped having anything to do with it the second you came back to Seoul.

In the minutes you’ve been focused on the screen, the sunset has bled away most of its brilliant orange. Now the sky is more purple than anything, pale lilac peeking through the buildings across the street. Along with the lack of sunlight, the temperature seems to have dropped in the apartment; the air conditioner’s breeze threatening to raise goosebumps along your cheeks and thighs and knees now that the sun isn’t here to combat it.

But you’re not feeling cold. Quite the opposite, actually.

In a matter of seconds you’ve actually begun to emanate enough heat to rival your elderly Toshiba laptop from 2012.

Your brain kind of feels like that Toshiba too. Like you’ve just clicked the left mouse one too many times and now 100 tabs have all opened up at the exact same instant, all playing the same snippet of audio at maximum volume— You. You. Thinking about you. About you. Worried about you. Just about you— all of them desperately trying to frame those words in a way that doesn’t set off the crush of childhood’s past laying dormant in your head.

But even the delusional part of your brain is pulling a blank on this one.

Because while you may be unhinged about Jeno most of the time, you are not unhinged about Jeno all of the time, and there are moments when even you can’t rationalize your way out of what’s staring you right in the face. Sometimes, however rarely, you see things for what they really are. Or what they are not.

And the string of texts that Jeno has just sent to your phone is not, in any conceivable way, a conversation that makes sense, when not even 24 hours ago you and Jeno essentially shook on the fact that everything would be going back to normal after last night. So we’re okay, he asked. We’re okay, you’d said. And you took that to mean things were on track to return to status quo. You’d go back to greeting each other when he came over, the occasional small talk and string of jokes, nodding at each other on campus, that sort of thing. You’d go back to just being the peripheral little sister. He’d go back to just being your brothers friend. The way life was before that night at Nabi Bar.

But in what world does, ‘He stopped having anything to do with it the second you came back to Seoul,’ fit into that equation at all? In fact— doesn’t that break the equation entirely?

Because what… what would you be to him then, without Mark?

Your lungs stutter a little wantonly. You don’t think you’ve ever asked yourself that question. And now that you have, your mind is prodding at doors it’s never acknowledged the existence of before. When you imagine yourself in his eyes, it’s only ever been through the relationship you have with his best friend; and that, in turn, has colored the way that you react to every single thing he does or says.

If he’s saying now that’s not how he sees you and that’s not how he’s been seeing you, then that re-contextualizes… quite a few things, doesn’t it?

The last three weeks of him going out of his way to help you, for one?

Your phone buzzes again in your palm.

[Lee Jeno, 7:14PM] Things are getting kind of crazy over here, Juyeon just brought out a t-shirt gun so I think I have to go

[Lee Jeno, 7:14PM] Mark moved movie night to Tuesday. I’ll bring your earring over then, so make sure you’re home. Maybe you can also explain why your toothbrush is missing from my bathroom.

Sure. Perfect. Any way to avoid replying to the previous batch of texts, you’ll accept in a heartbeat. You fire off some half-baked response, a few ‘ha-ha, yeah, totally’s, to disguise just how hard the gears in your head are spinning, though nothing feels very ha-ha yeah once you fling the phone away. You slump back against the couch cushions, even more mentally exhausted than you’d been a few hours ago with Mark.

The only thing I was thinking about was you.

What an insane thing to say, you miff, belatedly embarrassed. You can almost see his mouth forming the words, his voice as deep and annoyingly honest as always. What the hell are you doing, Lee Jeno?

Shit. Are you just reading way too far into this? Or are things really not nearly as okay between you both as he wants you to think they are?

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

a/n: please let me know what you think, this chapter beat my ass left right and sideways... ontwards ch7 my friends...

a/n ii: this chapter is dedicated to @jnnul btw their mention of misdial on their tumblr wrapped cheered me up enough to force myself to sit down and figure this fucking story out LOL

[moonshynecybin]

https://www.tumblr.com/moonshynecybin/741446960125509632 'The scans of his bones that sit in his email, twisted out of shape and healed sloppily. His relationship to Valentino, the same.'

this is embarrassing but i DID have to stare at the quote for several minutes before i figured out EYE wrote it.... this is sweet thank youuuu <3... um i also do wanna talk about that excellent post from @frogsonabike as well bc it makes me crazyyyy.... bear with me.

so yeah! marc's docuseries is one of those interesting little exercises in self-mythologizing that is well. maybe is not the most objective way to frame his sporting story but is CERTAINLY revealing concerning what matters to MARC. like he the one producing this, he's the subject of the documentary, and a big part of the structure of the show is literally marc sitting down and giving feedback about the edit straight to camera (CONTROL FREAK.) truly. there are scenes in this show of marc straight up saying hmmm i like this but i want to make sure we include x y and zeee so people can see how normal and happy i am :) because thats something normal people do. and so the whole project is very much in his hands and shaped by how he wants himself to be perceived... like the narrative arc of the whole thing is SUPPOSSED to be focused on him getting surgery and coming back from injury -- its a straightforward sports story that lets us get to know marc a little more and sets up his (hopeful) return to health/competition. a normal if somewhat micromanaged sports documentary.

BUT marc is crazy. crucially we must never forget that marc is crazy. crucially. so instead theres this HUGE diversion in the middle of our three act play just to talk about valentino for a full fucking episode. because of course there is. and marc's all like. i know we have to talk about valentino frowny face. but my man you literally do not under any circumstances have to derail your hagiographic feel-good comeback story to talk about your ex of seven years. he is retired lol. like truly i think it all ties into how traumatizing the breakup was, ESPECIALLY the way his personal narrative got kind of removed from his control during the whole deal... like forgive me if im wrong here but dani and jorge dont make any other appearances in this thing. marc had to make that call specifically for this lol. it wasnt just i GUESS i'll talk about valentino its wait a minute lemme call the other aliens they need to be here to back me up. actually dani being there is so funny but i digress. like i think marc desperately wanted to tip a lil of the balance of the scales here and saw his chance.... which is so interesting to meeee like he can say as time passes i love him less and less but it clearly still matters to him!!!!! otherwise he wouldnt have said SHIT. and then he dropped it on their birthday lol. crazy ex-girlfriend behavior.

[caroldantops]

valcarol interrupted mid-play bc carol needs to go save the universe but she was super in subspace and val couldn’t quite bring her out so instead she has to instruct her to go.

‘c’mon princess, that’s it, get your suit on for me honey. you’re gonna go save the world then you’re gonna come right back here to me, you understand?’

she may or may not have been edging carol before she got the call and decided to give her some incentive

she also may or may not have ‘forgotten’ to take out the plug snuggled in carol’s ass.

‘silly me, princess. it’s okay, it’ll be a nice reminder of who you belong to, wont it?’

carol goes off and saves the world and crumbles into vals arms when she returns.

‘it’s okay pretty girl, i know how big and strong you had to be… it’s okay to not be big now, let daddy take care of you now..’

idk the more i think on that scene the more that little!carol is making sense. carol who will only let herself be vulnerable with her daddy and carol who will either be the strongest person in the universe or a tiny baby who needs val to cut her food up and cuddle her at night and braid her hair…

tell me why i was about to give a lecture on dont do this!! as if NEEDING to leave midsession because theres a universal crisis is something yall would have happen

im fucking obsessed. i just. thinking about the intensity of the drop after makes me so emo because theres zero chance this happens without carol having SEVERE subdrop and i think val would go through some domdrop as well. feeling like she put carol in a position where she couldnt fight her best and therefore was endangering her more...

before my very long ramble starts - as far as little!carol goes, im on the fence! i think she'd really enjoy some parts of it and others not so much. i could be won over though im sure. yall know its my weakness.

um this turned into a thinkpiece about valcarol dom/subdrop. sorry.

carol having to go from feeling powerless to powerful and and just the fact that she submits to valkyrie in order to get away from that responsibility that burden only to have that safe space be invaded by one simple phone call that she could hear valkyrie try so hard to get her out of, yelling at fury that he should call someone else up, she'd go find thor herself if needed but no dice.

carol is able to yank herself out of subspace to fight, what choice does she have, shes basically in survival mode at that point and doesnt even really know whats going on until shes landed back in valkyrie's arms. sobbing and grabbing onto her and valkyrie choked up seeing carol so so upset and overwhelmed

valkyrie keeping it together as best she can to comfort carol enough, help her bathe and get her something to eat and clean up any injuries, til carol passes out from pure exhaustion. val making sure carol's fast asleep before pulling away from her in bed and wanting to go for her alcohol stash but she knows carol might need her again so she doesnt want to get drunk so she just goes and stands in the kitchen for a bit, gripping the counter and steadying her breathing and she can feel tears coming but fuck she doesnt want them--

and then she feels arms around her waist, a small still raspy from crying voice asking "hey, whats wrong?"

valkyrie finally crying but that kind of crying you get when youre mad that youre crying and carol's just listening to her ramble about how she shouldnt have let carol go, it was stupid of her to let her run out like that without taking more time to try to bring her up from subspace

carol kissing the palms of valkyries hands, kissing her cheeks and touching their foreheads together. "it wasn't ideal. it was hard. but you did all you could. and im okay. im safe. we're both safe. okay?"

"okay." valkyrie nods and wraps her arms tight around carol.

definitely takes them a while to feel comfortable entering an intense play-space after that. worried about if carol or valkyrie gets called away again. but once they feel secure again they start workshopping precautions to take. slowly work their way back up to playing again, ask other kink friends for advice. come out of it with safety plans and a stronger bond.

yeah sorry i have a LOT of thoughts and feelings about this clearly!!

[itsdanii]

Ahhh, your rejecting and regretting series is so good, my heart 🥺❤️ Can you do another one but with kuroo and kenma? You can ignore this request if you don’t wanna do it, I love your writing style and your blog! Stay safe and have a good day! 💞💞

Hey, bub! Thank you so much for the kind words, I appreciate it ♥️ I hope you don't mind me doing this only for Kenma. I got carried away so it got quite longer than I intended 🤦‍♀️ Anyway, here's your request! I hope you like it ♥️ Have a good day, stay safe and hydrated! Mwah!

a/n: read the note on the last part.

Rejecting and Regretting 6

genre: angst to fluff

warning/s: cursing, do message me if i missed any

a/n: please do read the warnings before you proceed. warnings have been put there for a reason.

ft. timeskip!kenma kozume

title says it all

Masterlist | Updates

Kenma Kozume

When you moved in to your apartment, you never expected your neighbor to be THE Kenma Kozume

If truth be told, you've been a fan of his ever since he started streaming

You knew that he didn't know you nor would he pay attention to you so you did not bother telling him that you were a big fan - the first one to always comment when he starts streaming

Not only did you think that it may make him uncomfortable but also make him feel like you were only trying to befriend him for his reputation

One night, as you were coming back from a short trip to the grocery store, you were walking with your earphones in and nose pointed on the screen while rewatching one of his videos

What you didn't know was that Kenma was walking behind you and was actually staring as you smiled and giggled while watching

You almost squealed when a hand came on your shoulder, almost punching the person behind you

Oddly, that was the starting point of your friendship

Although Kenma was hesitant at first (duh, you almost punched him) , he slowly eased when he felt that you were genuine

You basically went from neighbors to roommates because of how often you went to his unit, just playing random games and having occasional sleepovers

It wasn't long then when you realized that your "fangirling" towards the streamer developed into something more

You realized that you were no longer looking at him as the Kodzuken of the gaming world but just Kenma Kozume

You knew that you were fucked and thus you tried hiding it, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't

So you came up with a solution - confess. You decided that you would take the leap, confess, and hope that everything would turn out well, not knowing that it was only one sided

You shifted from one foot to another as you waited for Kenma to open the door of his unit.

Earlier, you both planned another sleepover and you took the initiative to cook dinner for the two of you instead of ordering another takeout.

As you waited, you could feel your stomach grumbling as the scent of the freshly baked sushi wafted in the air.

To be honest, you weren't really a good cook but you taught yourself how to with the help of youtube and cookbooks. You weren't even planning on learning how to do it but you were getting bored of takeouts, plus, you also wanted to impress Kenma even for a bit.

When the door finally opened, you smiled widely at Kenma while showing the food you made.

"Told you to not bother knocking and just make your way inside," he muttered before taking the pan from you and letting you in.

"Unlike you, I have my manners, Kozume," you playfully said as you plopped yourself on the couch head first.

Hearing him mumbling something under his breath as he arranged the table, you propped your elbow on the couch to watch him with a small pout playing on your lips. Your eyes followed his every movement and you couldn't help but question how someone could look so perfect.

His hair was a mess in a half bun and he was wearing nothing fancy, just his old sweatpants and a hoodie. Despite that, he still managed to look like a model, specifically those who preferred the "woke up like this" look.

"Y/n, are you going to eat or not?"

You blinked your eyes when you noticed the frown plastered on Kenma's face. Immediately, you stood up and walked over to the table with a small blush on your cheeks after being caught daydreaming.

"Sorry," you said sheepishly.

Kenma's apartment was then filled with the sounds of utensils clanking and small conversations the two of you were sharing.

Even though it seemed like Kenma wasn't paying attention, you knew that he was listening. You were aware of how much he preferred listening and observing more than talking anyway. It's just that you wished that he would talk more around you.

Somewhere in your conversation, you tried hinting your feelings towards him. In fact, you think that it was pretty obvious, but it seemed like Kenma didn't notice - that or he was purposely avoiding to indulge you.

"Getting in a relationship with a fan isn't boring you know? It actually sounds exciting, to be honest."

At that, Kenma heaved a sigh which instinctively made you shut up.

His eyes were already casted on the food infront of him instead of you,  eyebrows furrowed as if he was suddenly put in a bad mood. "I dont... really like this topic," Kenma said with a dismissive tone.

You felt your heart drop upon hearing that.

You've already practiced your confession several times and there was no way you'd let such words discourage you that easily. All you knew was that you had to get it out of your chest - now or never.

You placed your utensils down and looked at him straight in the eye despite him trying to avoid your gaze. "Why not, Kozume?" you asked, trying to push him to talk.

"I just don't see the point. Why would you want to date your fan? That's... weird," he simply answered, "What if they don't really like you? There's a high chance that a fan would date their idols because of popularity and fame. It's nothing but a self satisfaction."

"Hmm... I guess you do have a point," you said with a nod.

Placing your elbow on top of the table, chin resting on your palm, you pointed at yourself with your free hand which made Kenma look at you with one eyebrow raised. "Then what if it's me who wants to date you? Im a fan of yours, after all. Would you also reject me?" you asked hopefully.

Without wasting any second, Kenma answered, "Of course. Why would I date you?"

You didn't know how to react upon hearing that. You wanted to believe that he was trying to tease you but there weren't any signs of that from the tone of his voice. Moreover, he had nothing but a serious expression on his face.

"Because I like you," you answered with a low voice.

That simple phrase caused the silence to enevelope the two of you. The anticipation made your hands feel clammy to the point that you had to let go of your utensils to grip the sweatpants your were wearing.

Silently, you stared at each other as if waiting for the other person to break the silence - until Kenma did.

"Well, I don't." Standing up, Kenma took his plate and placed it on the sink, his back turned against you as he continued, "I think I'm going to stream for a bit. Make yourself comfortable."

You stared at Kenma as he made his way to his room wordlessly. "Make myself comfortable? Just who the fuck would say that after rejecting someone?" you muttered under your breath.

Knowing that it would be pointless to distract him while streaming, you started to clean the table and proceeded on washing the plates. As you were doing so, you whispered a curse when a tear suddenly slid down your cheeks.

You weren't supposed to cry. You prepared for this so you should've been able to take the rejection properly, right? He was Kenma Kozume after all. Although you became close with each other, it seemed as if he was really beyond your reach.

And now you ruined the only thing keeping you close to him - your friendship.

You decided to leave his unit after that. You felt that proceeding with the sleepover would only put a tense atmosphere between the two of you. Moreover, he did shut you out, right? Though he told you to make yourself comfortable, the way he acted said otherwise.

Maybe he only said it not to hurt your feelings.

"As if he hadn't already," you murmured, shutting and locking the door behind you.

In hopes of cheering yourself up, you decided to take a warm shower and pamper yourself to he point that skincare products basically littered your vanity when you finished and don't forget the fact that you ended up smelling like a strawberry because of your bodywash.

By the time you went to bed, you were feeling a little better... or were you?

As you laid on your bed, staring at the wall beside you while hugging a pillow close to your chest, your mind suddenly went back to what happened awhile ago.

You thought of how dismissive he seemed towards you. He wasn't always like that. Kenma had always been enthusiastic when you're around. Sometimes you would even end up watching beside him as he streams.

What changed?

Groaning, you buried your face on your pillow when you felt yourself tearing up once again. "Tomorrow will be better," you mumbled against the soft material as you slowly allowed yourself to fall asleep.

It didn't.

In fact, it got worse.

Not only was Kenma avoiding you, he was also acting as if he didn't know you - as if you didn't exist.

Earlier this morning when you were taking the trash out, you waved at him in hopes of lightening up the mood, but instead of usually greeting you, Kenma didn't even spare you a glance. He basically walked pass you without saying anything.

At first, you thought that maybe he didn't see you. Maybe his mind was elsewhere while walking. That could be possible right?

But when it continued for several more days, you realized that he was indeed avoiding you.

You felt a mixture of pain and anger. You were supposed to be the one avoiding him since it was him who rejected you but why was it the other way around? He could've atleast talked to you, let alone smile. Did he not value even just your friendship?

As the days went on, you were slowly getting tired of being the only one to put effort on rekindling your relationship. It was exhausting to keep on chasing over someone who didn't even acknowledged you.

Maybe you were just a bother to him after all.

So despite your will to keep on getting his attention, you decided to stop. If he didn't want you then so be it. You already confessed and did your best to show him that you're genuine. That's all that matters.

-

Kenma stared at your door beside his intensely, hand mid-air to turn the knob of his own unit.

It had been two weeks since he last saw you and for the third time of the day, he was yet again met with nothing but silence when he tried knocking on your door.

Where were you?

He knew that how he acted towards you was unreasonable but he didn't expected himself to wake up feeling like shit everyday without seeing you. He did this. He pushed you away. He said he didn't like you, right?

Groaning frustratedly, Kenma entered his unit, heading straight to his streaming room to cool off his head. If he couldn't see you personally, then perhaps he could at least see your name on his viewers.

He knew you always watched his stream and how you would always be the first to comment. Sometimes, you would even donate a huge amount of cash as a tip even though you always complained about being broke.

"They're not watching?" Kenma said unconsciously as he noticed how your name wasn't on the list.

That instantly caused a ruckus in his stream's comment section. Several fans kept on asking who Kodzuken was referring to and some even got the right answer since he streamed with you several times already.

But instead of saying anything, Kenma stayed silent. He focused on his game, occasionally shifting his eyes to the comment section and interacting with his fans.

His eyes, however, caught one comment. It was a link with the caption "Isn't this y/n?". Out of curiosity, Kenma decided to check it, finding out that you were indeed the person in the video.

No, it wasn't a video. It was a live stream of someone like him - a player.

And there you were, seated beside the unfamiliar person with a fluffy blanket wrapped around your body and your your head resting on their shoulder.

Who was that and why did you look too comfy?

"Sorry, guys. I'll have to end the stream now. Something important came up," Kenma said with a small wave before ending his stream.

Stalking the other streamer's socials, Kenma frowned upon noticing several pictures of you attached in their instagram. They were even posted just a few days ago which meant that you must've been spending time with them throughout the days you weren't at home.

Something stirred inside Kenma. It was an unpleasant feeling blooming inside his chest, clawing at him and making him realize one important thing.

He was in love with you.

And it was only confirmed when he remembered how nervous he was when you confessed, how scared he was when he heard the door shutting after he rejected you, and how stupid he was for only realizing it now.

"Shit," he whispered to himself as he quickly tapped on his phone, his finger hovering over your number, debating wether or not should he dial.

Suddenly, he shifted his gaze on the monitor of his pc which was still displaying the unfamiliar streamer when he noticed how you snuggled closer to their side.

Muttering anther curse, Kenma clicked on your number, his eyes focused on the montior of his laptop as he watched you picking up your phone.

"Please pick up," he pleaded when he noticed the frown on your face.

It took him a full 5 minutes and several dials to finally make you give in. He watched as you whispered something on the person beside you before making your way out of the room.

On cue, your voice suddenly met his ear.

"Kozume?"

It was still as soft as he could remember and with the fact that he finally admitted his feelings, his cheeks burned when he felt his heart racing.

Say it. Say it.

Say you like her.

"I-" pausing for a moment to rethink his words, Kenma sighed deeply before answering, "I'm sorry for being mean."

Fuck.

He was met with silence from the other side and for a moment, he got scared that you dropped the call.

It was until he heard some rustling sound that he realized you were still there and was purposely trying to stay quiet.

"Can we talk about this in person?" you said with a tiny voice.

Out of panic, Kenma nodded, forgetting that he was ralking to you over the phone and not in person. Mentally smacking himself, he answered, "Yes. I'd prefer that."

And I'd prefer if you're here instead of that caveman's room.

"Then, I'll be there in 20."

-

The moment Kenma heard someone knocking, he was quick to open the door.

His lips basically parted at the sight of you. It was only two weeks and yet why did it felt like he hadn't seen you in a month?

"Kozu-"

"I'm sorry," he cut you off, arms wrapping around you as soon as you stepped inside his apartment.

He felt how your body became stiff in his hold and without wasting any chance, he poured everything out. "I'm sorry for how I acted towards you. I treated you as if you were the last person I wanted to be with and when I didn't see you for several days, I realized how much I hurt your feelings." He took a deep breath, eyes focusing on you as he gripped your shoulders slightly. "Forgive me? I promise that I'll make it up to you."

Kenma hoped that you could notice the genuineness in his voice. He wasn't the type of person to talk too much but for you, he'd do it if it means having you forgive him and give him another chance.

"It's... alright, Kozume," you answered with a small smile.

"It's alright?" Kenma asked slowly. He knew that he should be happy that you forgave him easily but the way you said it made it seem like you were only forcing yourself.

It's like you didn't mean it.

"W-what do you mean it's alright?" he repeated.

"It means exactly what it means. I don't really see the point of holding a grudge against you, you know? You rejected me and I accepted it." Shrugging your shoulders, you walked pass him and went to sit on the couch. "I guess I just got too ahead of myself. I mean, you're Kenma Kozume, the Kodzuken of the gaming world. It would be impossible for you to like me, right? Sorry if I made you uncomfortable with my confession."

Kenma swallowed the lump forming inside his throat, eyes darting away from your figure as he shook his head no. "No... That's not true."

"What do yo-"

"I like you. How could you ever think that low of yourself?" he said, finally looking at you before he walking towards your direction. "It's not Kodzuken to you, y/n. Kozume - just Kozume. I don't want you to think that I'm someone all high and mighty just because people acknowledge me. I don't care about that. I want you. I want you to look at me the same way you did before. I want you to keep on clinging to me and to keep on cooking for me despite not knowing how to. I want you to like me again. I just want you.."

You felt your eyes well up with tears. After a long time of pining over someone you thought you wouldn't be able to reach, it was finally here - the moment you finally manage to hear the words you've longed to hear from him.

"D-do you mean that?" you asked with a small sob, your hand covering your face as you felt yourself being lifted and placed on Kenma's lap. "What if you're only saying that to make me feel better?"

"Of course I mean it. I was too stupid being scared of acknowledging my feelings towards you that I ended up rejecting you. I'm sorry." Gently, Kenma rubbed your back as he kept you in his arms, words of apologies continue slipping past his lips as he waited for you to stop crying.

"If I told you I still like you, would you promise not to treat me like shit again?" you asked while wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. "You were really mean to me, Kozu."

"I'd promise," Kenma answered with a nod.

Looking at him, you sniffled one more time. "Then I still like you," you said without taking your eyes off him.

You didn't fail to notice how Kenma's cheeks turned a lighter shade of red and the thought of how he got more flustered by your second confession than the fact that you were seated on his lap made you smile a little.

"Oh," Kenma uttered, as if suddenly not knowing how to react.

"You're supoosed to kiss me like those cliche movies," you said while encircling your arms around his neck.

Kenma's blushed even deeper after hearing that. Gulping, he gave a stiff nod before leaning in and finally planting his lips on yours.

His lips were soft against yours. Despite how tense he was at the beginning, he slowly managed to relax, fingers interlocking with your hair as he kept on moving his lips in synch with yours, both of your eyes closed as you savored the moment.

You felt yourself smiling in your kiss as you realized something - no longer were you just a fan but his s/o.

If you're reading this, hello.

I've decided that this will be the last part of the rejecting and regretting series. Though I had a lot of fun writing these, I'm no longer satisfied with how I'm writing them. The scenes were slowly becoming repetitive as well as the words. I'm craving for something new- something fresh that I've yet to explore. It was quite overwhelming how much people loved this series and I'm very thankful for that so I feel a little bad that this would be the last one. Don't worry, I still have some stuff brewing up that I hope you'd all enjoy.

Thank you so much for the love, support, and most importantly, for reading the series up until this last one. ♥️

[spinster-sisters]

Arrangement. psh

TW: Oral, fingering, corruption, unprotected sex, public sex, reader is kinda selfish but in the oblivious way not the malicious way, seonghwa is seonghwa. Honestly I was going for something kinda specific here and i dont think i succeded, its not bad or anything just not what i was going for but i dont think yall will be able to tell hopefully.

The first thing i write in probably well over 2 weeks and its something that nobody but @deja-vux wanted. what can i say? this idea gave me brain rot.

One last thing, this is kind of a part 2 to the corruption kink blurby thing I wrote for Seonghwa (can be found in my master list) but it’s not a direct continuation or anything and you don’t have to read that to get this.

-

Your jaw ached in strain as you held your mouth open, trying to keep your throat relaxed. Seonghwa’s grip was tight in your hair as he thrust his dick shallowly past your lips. The position was altogether uncomfortable. Seonghwa laid across the back seat of his vintage car, back propped up against the door with one knee raised. You were knelt between his thighs, bent over in a painful arch trying to keep still in the tight space. But all of that was inconsequential, the breathy groans and crooked smirk of the man in front of you were enough to drown out the pain.

As his hips pushed into your mouth again, dick sliding further down your throat than before, in a desperate attempt to please the man you did your best to swallow around the long length of his cock although tears pricked in your eyes. His grip on your hair tightened and you looked up just in time to see his head thump back against the glass window followed by another low groan and a face screwed up in pleasure, his normally perfectly styled black hair now tousled and falling into his eyes. Deep satisfaction ran through you.

To your surprise, the hand in your hair yanked you back and off him. You whined at the roughness, despite the way it sent shocks down to your core. Seonghwa’s eyes cracked open to peer down at you with a grin.

“You're getting good at this, princess.” He compliments in his velvet voice. His words elated you and a smile crept onto your lips.

“You’ve come so far in so little time, you could barely take me in your mouth without gagging a month ago, now look at you. You should be proud.” Seonghwa continued, running his hand through your hair once before regaining his grip on it. You practically purred. While you looked back on those first few times with Seonghwa fondly, you much preferred his smooth praises to the harsh words and instructions he gave you before. But you were still glad for them, there was no way you would have come this far this quickly if he hadn’t been hard on you.

Seonghwa’s hand was pulling you back down again before you could voice anything, “come on princess, show me how much you’ve learned.”

Back to work you went. He gave you a tad bit more freedom this time around, not making any move to thrust into your mouth, instead, allowing you to show your newfound mastery of dick sucking. But you kept his preferences in mind, he always wanted to draw things out, to take his time with you. So you began by kissing gently along the red tip, then lapping at the precum that spilled from it. The taste was definitely an acquired one, your face had screwed up in disgust the first time I touched your tongue, but now you sought it out as it meant you were doing well.

Taking the tip completely in your mouth, you hummed as you swirled your tongue around it for a moment before popping off and caressing the underside with a flick of the tongue. Seonghwa hummed in approval, nudging your head forward again in gentle encouragement. You took him into your mouth again, this time hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head in a firm rhythm. You kept your tongue pressed into the underside of his dick, running along the most prominent vein. Each time you took more and more of his impressive length into your mouth, moaning in satisfaction as you went.

You couldn’t help the way your legs pressed together as more wetness pooled in your underwear. Your mind flashed with the first time Seonghwa had taken you completely. Your body had shuddered as he eased his cock between your legs and into your cunt. It had been uncomfortable sure, and the sensation had been unfamiliar, but Seonghwa had taken care to prepare you enough before ruining you in that way. Your first time had been exceptional needless to say.

You were drawn back to the present by the low growl rumbling out of Seonghwa’s chest as his dick hit the back of your throat, all of him save for the part you had your hand wrapped around for support was now gracefully sliding past your lips. You ventured another look up to his face. He was watching you intently with fire behind his dark eyes. You looked up at him with wide eyes, barely able to meet his strong gaze. His elbow rested on his bent knee and his head was leaning against his hand. If it weren’t for the low sounds he released from time to time you would never be able to tell what you were up to between his legs from his face.

The sudden desire to break his composure overtook you, to make him feel as desperate as the ache between your legs. So as you removed your hand to take his length all the way down into your throat your hips began rocking back and forth, rutting into nothing as your legs pressed tightly together.

“Keeping going like that, and I’ll cum down your throat.” His voice rumbled.

You doubted that. Another thing you had learned about him was that he was unbelievably composed. The kind of restraint that came from much experience. He wouldn’t cum unless he wanted to, his words were only to encourage you. But regardless you took them with glee. Seonghwa had long since discovered that nothing encouraged you more than the thought of his cum, the very reward for your efforts.

Despite his promise, it was several more minutes before he spilled into your mouth, having finally decided that you had sufficiently proven your knowledge. His head had fallen back against the window and he let out a trail of deep groans as he spilled against your tongue. You swallowed it appreciatively, beaming up at him from between his legs, awaiting the praise for your efforts.

When he looked at you again it was with a crooked smile and a gentle hand stroking your hair.

“Well done princess,” he spoke far too casually for having just cum down your throat. His free hand took your hip between his fingers and hoisted you up to straddle his lap. He adjusted to sit normally in the seat and he took a moment to size you up. His gaze burned as his eyes trailed over your body and your legs tried to squeeze together again as another bout of wetness spilled out of you, but Seonghwa’s hips kept them apart. He noticed the attempt, however.

With a smirk, Seonghwa slid his hand into the waistband of your shorts and into your panties. You sucked in air only to release it with a whine as his cold fingers slipped between your folds, releasing the slick into his palm. He chuckled at you.

“Oh what have I done to you,” he started with mock remorse, a small pout painting his features, “only a true slut could get his wet from sucking dick, I suppose I have truly ruined you,” he finished with a wild smirk. Your hips ground into his palm subconsciously.

“Mmmhmmm” you sighed in agreement, absolutely loving when he spoke to you like that, only Seonghwa’s words could ever affect you like that. If anyone else said them it would sound vile.

“Yours,” you added with a hoarse voice, rocking your hips into his still hand again.

“Mine?” He asked, pretending to be confused, tilling his head to the side as if asking for clarification. Though the next words to leave your lips were no surprise to him, as he had taught you them.

“Your slut.”

-

It was getting harder to avoid Seonghwa at school. Not because either of your schedules changed, not because he stopped ditching as much as he did. In fact, those things hadn’t happened at all, it just seemed like they had. It seemed like everywhere you went you saw him. Either sauntering his way through the hallways, gathered with his like-minded friends in the courtyard, or even sitting in the far back of the single class you shared flipping his pen between two fingers as he stared absently out the window.

Once upon a time, before you had seen him as anything more than trouble making pretty boy, it had confused you how he had even managed to be in the same advanced literature class as you and it hard infuriated you when you discovered that Park Seonghwa had the audacity to be smart. Your one-track mind had seen it as a waste for him to have even a shred of intelligence behind his starry eyes when it was clear school was the last thing ever on his mind. But at the time you had pushed the thought aside, thinking that as long as you still stood at the top of the class it didn’t matter.

But when you found it most difficult to avoid Park Seonghwa was when he was leaned against the locker of some pretty face showing that crooked half-smirk that you had become so familiar with. And it caused quite a few unnamed emotions to stir in your stomach each time. Each time you shoved those emotions away before they had the chance to manifest. You had no right to feel them. It was your reputation at stake if the student body discovered that you were Park Seonghwa’s latest pass time, not his. In fact, it would probably gain him a feather in his cap from his crowd if they knew. You and Seonghwa had never discussed the exclusivity of your arrangement, you hardly had the clarity of mind to do so at any moment his gaze was focused on you, so you could never be sure if his velvet words had led him between the legs of any of the pretty faces you saw him with. And you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on it, even though very deeply wanted to know. Once again, you pushed the thoughts from your mind, as long as you still to be with him the most, it didn’t matter what those other people did with him.

But as the school slowly emptied at the end of the day, and you were making your way to the student council room once again (trying your hardest to not remember when he had taken you against a table in there as well) you found Seonghwa loitering in the hallway with a girl leaned against his chest inches away from his face.

You came to a dead stop. The gears of your brain are either unable or unwilling to comprehend what you saw. Why this particular time bothered you so much was a question you could not answer, it was not the first time, nor would it be the last. Normally you would simply turn your head and keep walking as though you had seen nothing, and you had almost convinced yourself to do exactly that when the girl noticed your presence.

“Do you need something?” She spat, clearly from the crowd that thought the student council was all prissy know it all’s, and you had to remind yourself that until very recently that is exactly what you were. But you were also stubborn. You composed yourself quickly and kept your eyes on the girl.

“Unless you have somewhere to be, I suggest you move your groping elsewhere. Somewhere off school grounds preferably.” You called in an even tone, thankfully your voice had not betrayed the way your stomach was churning.

“Come on, don’t be such a prude,” the nameless girl countered. Her choice of words temped you to glance at Seonghwa, but you had a feeling he would be looking at you, which you don’t know if you could handle.

“Trust me, the rest of the student body would be just as grossed out as I am, whatever is going on here is not as ‘hot as you think it is,” you added air quotes around the word for good measure. The girl smirked at you.

“I don’t know, I think they would be lucked to see such a sexy couple.” She retorted, her arms curling around Seonghwas middle. At the word “couple” you couldn’t help it, your eyes flashed to Seonghwa. He had the audacity to look amused as if the back and forth was the best entertainment he had seen all week.

You didn’t like that she used that word. You had absolutely no desire to be in a relationship with Seonghwa, quite the opposite, in fact, it would ruin you. But your mind flashed with the one word you heard him use perhaps most often, “mine.” Granted, you had never called him ‘yours,’ but the experiences he gave you seemed somehow cheapened if he was giving everyone else the same ones. You felt spiteful, what was the point in teaching you all those wonderful things if he could get them elsewhere. Those were the thoughts that spurred on your words.

“I’ll let them know when I find one then.” You deadpanned. It took her a moment to realize what you meant, then her mouth hung open. She looked ready to retort before Seonghwa cut her off.

“Why don’t you go home, leave this conversation to the big kids.” He said, looking at her for the first time since the conversation started. Once again, it took her a moment to realize it was her he was talking to, and then she gapped like a fish. Seonghwa had turned his eyes back to you, not bothering to entertain her shock. Finally, with a huff she stormed off, leaving you and Seonghwa alone in the hallway, locked in a stare-off.

“Kinda slow isn’t she? You can do better than that.” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh I know I can,” he replied without missing a beat, but the less than subtle once over and the knowing smile he gave you only served to tick you off, rather than flatter you.

“Then why waste your time with her?” As soon as the words came out of your mouth you regretted them. They sounded far too much like jealousy for your taste, and based on the look in his eyes; an invitation as well. Seonghwa’s lean body pushed from the wall and took several long strides towards you, till he stood over you. His hand came to rest all too familiarly on your hip.

“Why? Have something better I can do with my time?” He said, not at all trying to hide his suggestive undertone. You scoffed, in an attempt to keep the burn of his stare away from your mind.

“Your disgusting,” you said, though it came out far less convincing than it sounded in your head. You took a step back from the all-to-magnetic boy. If someone came across you two now, you needed as much distance between him and you as possible.

“Are you going to report me? Madam President?” He replied in a moc disappointed tone.

“As if I adding today onto your record would change a thing. We have a filling cabinet for just you and your friends, Seonghwa. I don’t want to overflow it.” You threw back.

“I didn’t know the student council was such fans of my work.” He replied casually without missing a beat. You opened your mouth to retort but he cut you off.

“Come find me tomorrow night if you're still looking to help me waste time, princess,” he began, turning to grab his bag from the floor, “I think you have a council meeting to get from, wouldn’t want to get in your way of upholding the high standards of the school.” As he spoke he began walking away, only to throw a smirk over his shoulder at his last four words. Leaving you alone in the hallway.

-

You did not find him the next day. You had decided you were upset with him, not because of the girl, you told yourself, but because of the patronizing way he spoke to you. Not that that was different from normal. It just seemed to be the best way to allow yourself to be mad at him without those unwanted feelings worming their way into your brain.

Whether Seonghwa had even noticed your boycott was impossible to tell. He would never come to you, he wanted you to come to him. He never seemed even the slightest bit bothered in the few times you had glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He laughed with his friends without a care in the world and his blank face during class held no emotion besides boredom. You on the other hand, now that was a different story. You had become used to meeting up with him once or even twice a week in various places around town for your “lessons” and you had become “insatiable.” (his word not yours)

Your resolve to be mad at him was cracking as the days went on and was replaced with the need for him. Him and only him. No one else would do.

But in an effort to keep your resolve you threw yourself in the opposite direction, instead, making plans with the Vice President of the student council, a lovely girl named Marie.

Marie was your friend. She chose to use the words “gal pals” from time to time. An airy upbeat girl who rarely let her soft smile fall from her face. And right now, the furthest possible thing from spending time with Park Seonghwa.

So on Wednesday, both you and Marie piled into her silver car and drove off to her house. You both stumbled into her orderly bedroom with a fit of quiet giggles at the expense of several other council members. You shrugged your bag off your shoulders and plopped down onto the plush carpet beside her bed as she did the same.

“Oh my gosh, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever! Outside of council meetings obviously, I mean, I was starting to think you had found a different best friend and I was-“ Marie started rambling almost as soon as she sat down. You couldn’t help the small smile that found your lips. It’s true you had been neglecting her as your friend for the past month or so, instead of spending time with, well, him. But now that sat in her familiar room, seeing the pictures of the events you had planned together scattered on the walls, the sudden realization that you had indeed missed her was shocking.

“Sorry about that, there was some stuff going on at home, that needed my attention. But now I’m back!” You replied, trying to match her seemingly boundless energy. Her face screwed up in worry at your words.

“Oh no! Is everything ok? Do you want to talk about it?” She asked in her characteristic wide eyes. You shook your head.

“It’s not serious I promise. My parents were just redoing the garden and my mother insisted I be home every day to help planting and stuff.” You continued with the lie you had prepared. It was the same thing you had been telling everyone when they asked about your general absence.

She looked content with your answer, smiling and pulling her binder from her bag.

“So, the basketball game this Friday, I know we have the event mostly planned out but I think that we still need to-“ she started again, going right into her work. And you held up a hand to slow her.

“Woah hold on,” you started with a smile, “we have been planning this game for 2 weeks I think we can take a break tonight. You know? Just hang out a little?” You asked. She looked at you surprised.

“Since when have you ever wanted to take a break?” She asked with a curious glance but it broke into a smile, “come on, it’s the first game of the season and the coach asked us specifically to make sure that the whole school showed up and it runs smoothly. Besides if I do a good job I might just beat you out for president next year.” She said the last part with a low voice and a wiggle of the eyebrows.

But that wasn’t the part of her outburst that surprised you. She was right, when have you ever been the one to want to take a break? Surely you have been indulging yourself too much lately. You recovered your momentary lapse.

“Oh you wish,” you replied with a coy smirk that broke you both down into giggles once again.

The rest of your night was flung into a casual discussion with homework and planning galore.

-

Perhaps there are better places, and there are definitely better times. But since it came down to either the locker room showers or the back of Seonghwa car, at least the showers had more room.

Outside the door, the basketball game was raging on and I likely would be for the next hour. You could hear the school cheering along with the game, and the surprisingly loud squeaks of the player's shoes on the gym floor. Nobody would be coming in here till the game was over, you had until then.

You had been leaning against the sink when Seonghwa walked in. One look at him was all it took for you to be willing to break your streak, it’s hard to be mad at someone when you can’t glance at them without your mind flashing with every dirty thing they have done to you. So the moment he crossed over to you, you flung yourself at him. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck when your lips meet his. You could feel him smirking on your lips, but at the moment you couldn’t care less.

Seonghwa’s hands fell to your hips and to your utter dismay he used his grip to gently push your body away from him. A whine pulled from your lips as you looked up at him with pleading eyes. He looked amused.

“Hold on there princess, what’s the rush?” He asked head tiling to the side with a patronizing look. You huff at his words, tightening your arms around his neck you push yourself flush against him again.

“The rush is that I haven’t had time to see you all week and I’m going insane.” You convey in a tone that clearly says ‘shouldn’t this be obvious?’ Seonghwa’s eyebrow raised accusingly.

“Oh, is that what it was? That you didn’t have time?” He asked, though his tone suggested he knew the answer. You could feel yourself blushing, so he had noticed you had been avoiding him. Honestly, you didn’t think he would.

“Because I’m pretty sure I saw you and miss congeniality meeting up every day after school.” You wish now more than ever that you had more experience in the “relationship” field, even if this wasn’t one because you could not for the life of you decipher Seonghwa’s expression. His face was relaxed, showing no sign of anger or disappointment or any other emotion, but his eyes were staring you down with great intensity. But then again, he always seemed to do that.

“Council stuff.” You mumble in reply, trying with all your might to speak as casually as him. At this, Seonghwa gifted you with an expression you understood. Fake surprise.

“Oh, is that what it was?” He began, looking up at the ceiling as though pondering the idea, before looking back to you with that damned crooked smirk. His grip on your waist suddenly tightened. A moment later he had pushed you back against the sink, caging his arms around you.

“Or is it because you were jealous?” He was grinding madly now.

Jealousy. That was that emotion that you had been shoving down all week. How you had not realized it before was a mystery. But to hear it come from his mouth? It made you see red. Suddenly you were far angrier than you had any right to be. Your gaze hardened quickly and you did your best to put space between your bodies, though it was practically impossible with his arms changing you in and head leaning down into your face.

“Do you want to waste time talking, or are you going to fuck me?” You spat. He processed your words for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before he had the audacity to look amused.

“So you were jealous.” He practically giggles, shaking his head and looking down in amusement. The tips of his fluffy black hair brushed your nose and you almost swatted at it. How dare he? You pressed your hands into his shoulders and pushed against him, trying to move him away from you. He allowed you to move him, but not by much, just enough to give you a little room while you fume at him.

If you had the slightest bit of hindsight at this moment, you would have realized your anger was misplaced. You were angry at yourself for feeling that stupid emotion in the first place. But at present, blaming him seemed easiest. And the fact that your anger only served to amuse him made it feel a bit more justified.

“What’s so funny.” You spat, crossing your arms in front of your chest. He peered at you, and your clearly ticked-off demeanor before chuckling. His hands still gripped the porcelain sink behind you and for a brief moment, his hand flexed against the hard surface, holding some unseen emotion in the action.

“You are, princess. For someone so smart I forgot how absolutely clueless you can be about anyone who isn’t yourself.”

You almost stormed out of the room. And you probably would have if it wasn’t for the placement of his arms. But he continued speaking despite your livid expression.

“I was keeping up appearances.” He said in a flat tone. You could now add confusion into the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

“What does that mean?” You said the words with venom but there was a clear tone of lack of understanding in your voice. He, once again, found this amusing.

“Exactly what it sounds like. How would it look for me, if I suddenly started to ignore every advance made on me? Believe it or not sweetheart but I also have a reputation to uphold. Just the same as you. And since your the one who is so adamant that nobody knows about our ‘meetings’ it’s business as usual.”

Realization washed over you like water to a flame, all the rage dissipating just as quickly as it appeared, and your face softened. And then came the guilt. You just basically blew up on the man for doing exactly what you wanted him to, for doing exactly what you were doing by avoiding him. You had never before considered Seonghwa’s reputation in your musings. Your eyes glazed over a bit as you looked down, letting out a quiet “oh.”

You kept your gaze rooted to your shoes, unwilling to look at Seonghwa for fear of what you would see. You jumped when you felt his touch. One hand came to your waist and a gentle caress and the other took hold of your chin more firmly and tilted your head up to his eyes. And to your surprise, a coy smile lay across his features.

“It’s ok princess, your obliviousness was what drew me to you in the first place anyways. You were so caught up in your own little self-centered world you didn’t even notice how badly I wanted you till I had you pressed against the wall. I don’t think this would be as fun if I didn’t have to teach you a thing or two along the way,”

you blushed again at the memory and he slid his thumb against your lower lip. Your mouth parted automatically to wrap your lips around it, lulled into the submissive trace his silken words always put you in. He chuckled at you. “At least now I know you haven’t been messing around with anyone else. You’ve been too busy sulking over me to even notice if any other guys tried to seduce you.”

You hummed around his finger, slightly comforted by the fact he would have been jealous too. His words suggested that he wanted you to himself as much as you felt the same about him.

His thigh was suddenly pressing into your core and the hand on your waist dragged your hips across it. The skirt you wore did nothing to shield your panty-covered cunt from the rough denim of his jeans and your mouth hung open to mewl at him, his thumb still dangling from your lips. He leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You wouldn’t let any other guys touch you, right princess?” He mumbles though he spoke like he already knew the answer.

You garbled put some kind of agreement as quick as you could. With a smirk, Seonghwa hiked up the fabric of your skirt to expose your damp underwear and lifted you ever so slightly by the waist onto the edge of the sink. There was a sliver of pride in his eyes at the way you spread your legs willing for him, presenting yourself as best you could, just as he had taught you. He pushed the fabric covering your pussy to the side and slide a fringed through the slick that gathered there. And you muffled a whine into his neck as your arms flung over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna have to be quick with you today sweetheart, the game is almost over, but wouldn’t want the whole basketball team to come piling in and see you like this would you.”

You shook your head as best as you could with your face nestled into his collar bones. Your eyes were screwed shut as his fingers continued to glide through your folds, sometimes barely slipping inside you before pulling out. He was working you up with well-practiced hands. He had learned his way around your body much faster than you had learned his, knowing all the ways to make you tick.

“No, this is for my eyes only, right sweetheart?” One of Seonghwa’s slim fingers caught your clit and you gasps, gripping the shirt covering his shoulders. He tutted at you.

“Don’t tell me you've forgotten what all I’ve taught you in just one week. Come on and use your words.” You could feel his words rumbling in his chest for how tight you held him. You were hesitant to pull away, but the edge in his voice urged on. Moving away just enough to let your voice carry.

“Only for you,” you mumble. Despite your quiet tone, you meant the words far more than you anticipated. Seonghwa pushed two long slim fingers inside you at your response, stretching your walls with ease. You gasped at the intrusion and buried your face in his chest again, trying to muffle any noises that may come out of you. There was still a game going on outside after all.

Seonghwa’s fingers arched inside you, brushing against the most sensitive place on your walls and your back arched. You could feel yourself getting louder and louder with every passing moment, but you were still unbearably on edge of being discovered.

“You especially responsive today, maybe leaving you alone for a while has its benefits.” Seonghwa mused into your hair as he worked, pulling even more sounds from you with every movement of his hand. His practiced fingers touched and toyed with you so well, it was impossible to keep quiet.

“No-“ you started in a shaky voice, not wanting to go so long without his touch like this again.

“Only joking sweetheart,” he giggles in your ear. But at that moment he pulled his skilled fingers away from your core and you choked on air. He ran his free hand up your spine in what was meant to be a gentle caress but it sent shivers through your body regardless. Your face stayed hidden against his body, at this point, his body heat seemed to be the only thing grounding you right now.

With your vision obscured there was a brief moment of heated silence where it seemed like nothing was happening, then the distinct sound of a belt clicking open and a zipper being pulled down echoed in the room. You pulled away from his chest and looked up at him with wide star eyes. He was already watching you with a smirk. Your mouth hung open with anticipation. He took in your face with a pleased expression, one hand coming down to cup your chin and tilt your head further up.

“I love it when you look at me like that,”

As soon as the words ended Seonghwa was crashing his lips onto yours and without missing a beat he thrust his length into your cunt in one quick movement. You were suddenly very thankful for the kiss, as it did well to muffle the cry ripping pst your lips. His grip on your hip was like iron as he began to set a pace. Each time pushing if possible even deeper inside you. You forced your legs to spread wider as your hands clawed down his back. Each time he filled you completely your body twitched as he brushed over your most sensitive spot.

Seonghwa still held your chin tightly in his palm, keeping your lips locked in a heated kiss. He seemed to be timing the kiss with his thrusts, which meant it was incredibly fast. He was kissing you as though he wished to devour you whole and at the moment you wanted nothing else but to allow him. Every few minutes the kiss would break as you both panted for air before it resumed with that same fervor.

Quite suddenly it became all too much, you were melting into him. Every stroke of his dick against your pulsing walls felt like fire shooting through your body in the best way, making you twitch uncontrollably. Your body acted of its own accord, hips bucking to meet his with every thrust and your hands grasping wildly against his back, trying to bring him impossibly closer. Several times you tried to break the kiss just to moan but his mouth chased yours and swallows up the sounds before they could escape.

And the kiss was something else entirely. You had kissed the man before but never like this. This felt so raw and unyielding. Every swipe of his tongue against your own felt like an invitation or a promise, for what you did not know. All of a sudden it felt entirely too intimate, too real. The kind of kiss reserved for true lovers in a moment of passion, not two teenagers fucking in a bathroom. But you couldn’t break away, not that you wanted to.

A gasp rang through the room. And in a moment that felt not unlike plunging into a freezing ocean, you realized that it had not come from you, or Seonghwa for that matter. Seonghwa had stilled to a halt inside you from the moment he heard it. He abruptly broke the kiss, sidestepping just enough that his broad back blocked the exposed parts of your body. But you couldn’t focus on the surprisingly chivalrous way he had protected you from sight, or the way he was mumbling under his breath as he righted himself and his clothes before doing the same to you.

No, your eyes were locked on the door. Where a mortified-looking Marie stood with her mouth hung open.

-

so can yall see what I was going for? or did I fail miserably lol.

[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Scherzo (Chapter Six; Part One)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Dreams turn into reality on smokey breaths. Inner turmoil melts away with the touch from warm skin. Promises make the evening decisions go from complicated to deliciously easy.

Content | Fluff, slight smut warning, tw soft drugs (marijuana)

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 4421

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitersmoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy  @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @killerqueen1985 @ccweasley @bluscryn @deluxeplanteater @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic​ @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @petit-poussin @fedorable-killjoys​ @luvbadass​ @buttercup-beeee​ @navs-bhat​ @etaerealboyv​ @tryymebitch​ @mell-bell​ @fenhakwe​ @solacestyles​ @softforlukescurls​ @vicsangel​ @theimpossiblehologramtree​ @alina-exe​ @cherricola66​

***

Soft skin against his fingers. A hand running down his chest to his pants. Heavy breathing filling the room. The flesh underneath him felt warm and welcoming, hot to the touch and begging for more. Her perfume filled his senses as she pulled him close. Nails running down his back. Whispers of "amore mio, just like that", "keep going,” “cara mia, vita mia, please".

A “Dami, fuck” leaving her lips as his hand started gripping her thighs. Running between them, as she threw her head back, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling on it. Biting her neck. Coaxing more moans out of him, on a mission to make him lose his mind. She was heaven on earth. Supple breasts moving with every breath as he let his mouth descend on them, one at a time, desperate to consume all of her. Kissing every inch of her, exploring her until he knew about every curve, every ridge, every little spot of her body. He wanted to know all the secrets she ever had. Drawing noises out of her that he wanted to keep hearing for the rest of his life. Her hands on his shoulders, on his back, on his arse. Pulling him further into her. Letting his mouth wander lower, getting wrapped up between her legs. She looked at him with dark eyes, nodding, and he was ready to suffocate in between her thighs.

Wait, was he actually suffocating on her thighs?

Damiano woke up with a start, face pressed deeply into the pillow, restricting his breathing in a way that was much less sexy than the one in his dream. A circle of drool had escaped his mouth and dropped onto the pillow. Well, that's embarrassing, he thought to himself.

He was in the middle of pushing himself up and out of bed, highly aware of the situation in his boxers - only to be interrupted when a knock on the door startled him. Trying to wrap the sheet around him, suddenly overly self-conscious of his state, he hastened to the door, almost tripping several times on the way. When he finally unlocked and opened it, he just about let his head appear in the opening, awkwardly hiding between the door still. Y/n’s face was painted in confusion. He forgot how stunning she really was, his brain not even coming close to painting her image in his dreams.

“Yes, hi, good morning, I’m up! I’ll be down in an hour!” He was rushing to finish his sentence, not giving her a chance to reply before he let the door fall back into its lock. A deep breath out. Her face instilled in his mind like a photograph, unable to be separated from the extremely vivid dream he’d just had. He felt bad. He had essentially slammed the door in her face while wrapped up in a bedsheet. Not a very good impression considering he liked the woman behind the door. This was going to be such a long day.

***

“Why are you so awkward?” Victoria nudged Damiano as they had settled on a couch on the bus. He had been looking off since she had first seen him that morning, which was odd. Especially considering he was usually more of an early bird than the rest of them. “Sleep badly? Bad dreams? Good dreams? Or did you scare Y/n away again with another morning wood incident.”

Damiano’s face burned up as if suddenly ignited, making Victoria gasp.

“Oh my god, did you?!” She smacked his chest with her hand as she let out a gasp.

“I wasn’t even aware you knew about the first time,” Damiano mumbled, slumping down deeper into the seat. Crawling into the shirt he was wearing. Anything to get out of this conversation.

“Word travels fast on tour, you should know that by now,” she giggled, repositioning so she had her legs spread across his thighs. “So what happened?”

“I’m not going to talk about that with you,” he scoffed. Victoria’s grin only spread further, though. She was loving this side of Damiano more than she would like to admit - shy, awkward, unsure of himself. He was one of the best people she knew, an amazing frontman, a talented musician, a loyal friend. Yet with one little addition to the team he had turned into a quivering mess.

“You know I’m just going to ask Y/n what happened, right?”

“Yeah good luck with that, she didn’t even notice. At least I hope not.”

“Wait - so you hid your boner from her? I mean, at least you didn’t traumatise her again. What happened though, did you have some good times before the wake-up call?” She once again nudged him obnoxiously, loving how uncomfortable she was making him. “Did you have a wet dream? Did- Oh my god, you’re blushing, you did have a wet dream! Tell me everything! Was it hot? Did she go down on you or something? Did you see her tits?”

“Fuck off Victoria, I’m not telling you anything, now stop! It’s no like-”

“Hi! Attention, everyone! I know it's early and everyone is probably still asleep. But - announcements! That includes you Thomas,” Y/n said pulling the curtain of the guitarist’s bunk back so he could listen too.

Victoria noticed how their assistant didn’t seem spooked by Damiano’s presence at all - it seemed like he had been right after all. She hadn’t noticed a thing. If only those two would stop playing cat and mouse and finally do something, anything, she thought.

"Now, I know we're all excited about going to Amsterdam today, and I'm not looking at anyone in particular here," she explained as she shot a pointed look at Damiano that no one missed. "But I have one ground rule: no weed before the show. You got tomorrow off, so whatever you do after the performance tonight is none of my business. But god help you if I find you with a joint in hand any time before that."

She smiled, but Victoria had no doubts she would be deadly serious if it came to it. Y/n passed out a map of the local area, highlighting the Leidseplein in the middle of town, and in red circles were the venue, the hotel they were staying at, restaurants, and several coffeeshops, all within easy walking distance.

“Do with that what you like,” she concluded. ”As long as you do it after the show.”

***

The band had gotten to the venue straight after lunch, excitedly discussing some new covers they were thinking about playing that night. Soundcheck consisted of a number of conversations all at once, trying to figure out how to change the setlist. Damiano found himself participating less, instead, staring down at Y/n sitting in the audience. She was busy writing in her notebook, the seats next to her taken up by her bag, folders, and laptop. He knew she needed a break. They all worked extremely hard all the time, so it wasn't difficult to spot the signs of a fellow overworked person. He made it his own personal mission to get her to go out with them that night. Spend some time outside of work, see the city, anything that made her put her phone down.

As day turned to night, the concert loomed on the horizon. As soon as they hit the stage, it was clear it was going to be a good night. Amsterdam was the best kind of crazy. Going from Zitti e Buoni into Billie Eilish's Bury a Friend, the crowd went wild. Damiano noticed with amusement that Y/n was absentmindedly dancing along from her spot on the side of the stage as well. His attention had only been diverted towards her for a second, he was sure, but it was enough to suddenly feel something hit his head. Soft, red fabric.

"Was wondering when the first of those would come around," Damiano chuckled into the microphone in between songs, swinging the bra around a few times, before draping it across his mic stand.

Yet as much as the energy of the audience rubbed off on the band, all of them felt like collapsing after the show, feeling like they'd given it more than their all. A perfect chance to unwind for the night, in a way only Amsterdam really knew how. It was legal, after all.

***

“I am absolutely not getting high with you lot.”

Everyone was gathered in Y/n’s hotel room more or less uninvited. It seemed like they were dying to drag her along on what was supposed to be one of the best nights out on that tour. After getting ready, they had simply stormed in as soon as she had opened her hotel door. Now they were perched on her bed, her desk, and her armchair, trying to convince her.

“I gave you all a map to see where you could go. I, for one, would like to stay in my room, just me and my bed, and sleep till my alarm in the morning. That sounds like a brilliant time in my book.”

“Boring!” Thomas shouted, hurling a pillow from the bed at her that she quickly caught and threw back with much less force.

“If you come out with us, we’ll be ready before your wake-up call for the rest of the week!” Victoria tried to bribe.

“If you come out with us, we’ll have breakfast ready for you every day!” Y/n shot a look at Thomas, knowing fully well this was not going to happen. The idea alone made her laugh.

“If you come out with us, you can keep me company while the other three go crazy?” Ethan finally offered. She knew she was close to giving in, no matter how wrong it seemed to blur the lines between working relationship and friendship. She barely even agreed to drinks when she was on the job, and technically, she considered herself to be on the job 24/7. Yet these four had grown close to her heart so much more than anticipated.

Out of nowhere Damiano appeared next to her, slinging his arm around her shoulder. The way his fingertips brushed her neck as he did so left goosebumps. “Come on, darling, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

It turned out, that was all she had needed to hear.

***

The coffeeshop didn’t differ much from the usual pubs and bars; people stuffed in every corner, a low murmur of talk with the occasional loud laughter over the music playing in the background, tables full of glasses and bottles. Only the smoke lingering in the air, its distinct smell, and the relaxed atmosphere let on that it was a slightly different kind of place. Y/n made short work of weaseling through the crowd and securing a table at the far end of the place, just enough space to accommodate all of them, as the others went to order.

“Do you want one as well?” Damiano asked as soon as he had let himself fall onto the couch next to her, already preparing to roll a joint.

“I think I’m getting a second-hand high just sitting here. Maybe take a puff of one of yours, but I won't be able to finish one myself."

Damiano nodded, licking the inside of the blanks as he prepared his joint. Victoria came bouncing in like a tidal wave - her usual fashion - and crashing into the others already sitting down. As soon as Damiano was happy with his creation, she snatched it out of his hand, making short work of lighting it and taking a drag.

“Hey, that was mine!”

“Make another one,” she grinned, obnoxiously blowing the smoke into his face. Rolling his eyes, Damiano quickly prepared another one for himself, everyone now happy and content with their smokes, until only Y/n was left holding at a glass of water.

She preferred to observe the scene from her little advantage point in the corner like she so often did. The mellow music in the background was loud enough to underline the atmosphere but quiet enough to easily talk to everyone around you without having to shout. She liked this much better than loud bars in the evening. Most people were minding their own business, in small groups or pairs, some on their own. Victoria was quick to start chatting to a pair of girls sitting at the table next to them. She wasn’t going to lie - while not her usual spot, she didn’t exactly feel uncomfortable.

A hand appeared in front of her face, seemingly out of nowhere, and it took her a second to realise it was Damiano, trying to pass her his joint. She hesitated - still not convinced whether she should be smoking at all, but one look into his eyes only proved to her that she was weak to his suggestions. Parting her lips ever so slightly, she let him push the blunt between them, his fingertips grazing her. She took a drag, careful not to breathe in too much too quickly, before releasing the joint. Damiano pulled it back towards himself immediately, putting it back between his own lips, and she felt hypnotised. The moment came to an abrupt end when a cough took hold of her.

“Easy, easy,” Ethan soothed from the other side, his hand on her upper back. “Breathe.”

Everyone around the table seemed to be looking at her now, but she quickly got her composure back, holding up her hands in a gesture that was meant to signal she was fine.

“Fuck,” Y/n choked, taking a drink from her glass to wet her throat. “This is why I don’t smoke.”

“Wrong,” Thomas threw in. “This is because you don’t smoke!”

Y/n shook her head, giggling at the guitarist and the know-it-all look in his eyes.

“Up to try again?” Damiano whispered in her ear as the attention had finally ceased to be on her. She found herself staring into his eyes once again, a fluttery feeling erupting in her stomach at having him watch her so intently, at being able to capture his attention so easily.

The look on his face was enough to get her to try again. And again. And again.

She couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but for once, she genuinely didn’t care. The people around them had changed, old ones leaving, new ones arriving, but the music stayed the same. She wasn’t quite sure what the joke Thomas was telling them was about, but she found herself giggling along nonetheless. This was the best she had felt in forever.

Unaware of what she was doing, she leaned back, finding Damiano’s arms carefully wrapping around her, holding her softly. To her own surprise, she was sinking into him.

“Having fun?” He asked in a voice so low she barely heard it. A voice so soft it made her heart melt. She nodded, slightly twisting around in his embrace to look at him again. She couldn’t get enough of his face. She’d stay and study it for all of eternity if he let her.

"Have you ever seen brown zircon?” She suddenly asked out of nowhere. “It's a gemstone that looks like they made sparkly salted caramel bonbons from rock. They mine it in Tanzania, I think? Your eyes sparkle just like that." She grinned at the man beside her. "I can attest to that from this angle at least. It’s like the one scene in Aladdin! 'She's got these eyes, and this hair and…’ Ah oh god, what am I doing?" She couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous she was being. She found her face resting on his shoulder, completely content. His eyes never wavered from her face, listening closely to what she had to say.

Then Y/n watched her hand brush Damiano’s hair to the front, attempting to style it in a slightly different way. “Did you mean to look like Eren Yeager or was that some sort of subconscious coincidence? Not that it doesn’t look good, of course.”

“You watch Attack on Titan?” Dami looked down at her with surprise.

“No I don’t, but my friends do. So you learn the names of the people they yell at through the TV screen very quickly,” she laughed, remembering the way her friends would huddle in the living room, shouting at whatever the characters were doing wrong in their opinion.

“The more I get to know you, the more I’m convinced you’re my kinda woman, you know?” he mumbled, a smile grazing his lips. The more she looked at him, the more she felt her brain shutting off and her heart taking over. Or was it the high? She wasn’t interested in trying to differentiate.

Once again, he pushed the joint between her lips, holding the eye contact and it felt so much more intimate than it should have. It felt like her nerves were on fire. When he pulled his hand back again, she wanted to grab onto it, keep him in place, keep the moment.

I could stay in this forever, Y/n thought to herself.

"Also, I'm not religious by any means, but whatever God was responsible for creating you sure took their sweet time doing it…" The words spilled from her mouth before she realized she was talking, eyes flicking back and forth between his. "You know?"

She caught herself looking at his lips. A small blush grew on her face as she looked away. Staring out into the room, out at the people sitting next to them at other tables. Something distracting to take the rising heat off.

***

Damiano could feel his defenses wearing away. All ideas of staying away completely vanished into the smoke that lulled them in as he was holding her in his arms, her back leaning against his chest. He could feel her breathing, giggling at nothing at all, or maybe something Victoria had said but he hadn’t heard.

“If anyone’s been made by the angels, it’s you, amore,” he mumbled more to himself than anything, but she had heard him. Another chuckle running through her body. The atmosphere was fogging up his brain. He watched in amusement as he let a finger run up her arms, from her wrist to her upper arm where the fabric of her shirt began, and goosebumps appeared as if standing tall in a row. He tried it again on the other arm, getting the same result.

“What are you doing?”

She was turning around in his arms, just enough to look at him without removing herself from his embrace. He wondered if it was the dim light or if she was always this radiant. His hands travelled to the elastic that was holding her hair together and carefully removed it, eyes on her. Her hair fell around her face, framing it beautifully in its typically wild manner.

“I…” Her eyes seemed to twinkle as the light of the bar reflected back at him through them. “I don’t know.”

He looked away, suddenly insecure. What was he doing? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he couldn’t keep his hands off her, now less than ever. He wanted her. Wanted her all to himself. Wanted to keep holding her like this forever. There was no denying that.

“You’re sweet.”

Her voice took a second to get through to him, but as it did, he turned his head as if in slow motion. All he had wanted to do was look at her again, but that wasn’t what happened. Instead, her lips were on his.

***

All Y/n had done was lean forward to press a kiss against his cheek. Now their lips were meeting and she didn’t know how she had gotten there. She wanted to pull back - no, actually she didn’t. But she thought she should. Though the spirit was willin - to pull away, that was -, the flesh was weak. Delving deeper into his arms, she found herself kissing him like she meant it. Her hands found his chest, feeling the rising heat from his skin. Being closer to him than ever before was driving her crazy. His soft, warm lips against hers. Just the tiniest movements, as if he was afraid of breaking her. She let herself enjoy it. For a moment. That was all her brain allowed before switching back to the rational part. She pulled back in surprise.

She moved out of his embrace, stiffening at the contact. All of the twinkling lights of romance that had just appeared around them now popped as the kiss ended.

I just kissed my boss. I just fucking went and kissed Damiano! I am so, so fucked.

Yet, she couldn't deny that she wanted to kiss him again. And again, and again until they ran out of air to breathe. She looked back at him and the expression on his face said it all. His lids lowered, a small smile appearing on his face. Eyes twinkling in the soft light. He hadn’t wanted the kiss to end either. Either that or the weed was affecting him more than she had thought.

But as cold air started to seep in between them he blinked a couple of times, only now noticing that she had pulled away.

"Sorry - about that. I was trying to- I wasn't trying to kiss you. Well, I was - but not on the mouth. That would have been very forward of me. I would never. That's not me. I don't know how that happened - sorry." Y/n rambled on, unable to stop talking.

Damiano smirked, pecking her cheek. "Y/n, it's fine, you're fine. I turned my head and we kissed. It happens." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. As if this was some sort of common occurrence. As if she was panicking for nothing. Was she?

***

Damiano desperately tried to hide the turmoil inside of him. It happens?! Damiano, what the hell are you thinking! Not the right thing to say in this situation! Now it just looks like you’d kiss anyone, great. He looked down at his hands, fumbling with his rings. Trying to get his breathing back under control. He needed to be cool.

"I mean - not that I didn't enjoy it. You kiss good!"

You kiss good? What the? That wasn’t even English. He was well and truly losing his mind.

***

Y/n took a deep breath, sitting back in her seat, making sure not to be as close to Damiano as she had been before. Victoria and Thomas had migrated to get more drinks and Ethan was deeply entrenched in some conversation with a man next to him. Luckily the rest of the band hadn't seen what just happened. Grabbing her glass once more, the cold wet condensation gave a stark contrast to her warm skin.

The kiss still left a tingly feeling on her lips. Quickly looking at Damiano, she met his eyes. He had not looked away yet, it seemed. She watched as he bit his lip in contemplation. Whatever was playing on his mind, Y/n didn't know. His words left her believing he wasn’t quite as put together as he tried to pretend. He certainly wasn’t making much sense. Although, she wouldn’t dismiss his compliment of her kissing abilities. She wondered if he would think similarly if they did it again, or did more than that…

Her wandering thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a loud crash. The culprit was quickly spotted. The middle of the coffeeshop, which had been empty of people until then, now had Thomas lying on his front, surrounded by liquid and broken glass.

Y/n didn’t hesitate, jumping up to offer her aid. The worry only lasted for a second though, until Thomas turned on his back, giggling maniacally. She barely managed to kick some shards out of the way before he could roll onto them.

She let out a deep sigh at the state of the guitarist, before quickly apologizing to the people at the bar.

“Everyone help me grab Thomas, I think this is our sign to call it a night.”

***

Y/n thought she’d have an easy time going to sleep. The effects of the joint were lingering, plus, the day had just been plain exhausting. Yet, as her head hit the pillow, she felt restless. Her mind kept circling around Damiano. The way he had looked at her. The way he had looked in general. She had seen him basically naked at this point, but she still thought about how it would be different up close and personal. She wished she had been able to read his eyes more. Had he been thinking about the same things she had? Had he wanted to kiss her again and again, get lost in that bubbling excitement of finally being close, finally let his hands wander to new places? She wanted to pull his hair. See what kind of sound would leave his mouth when doing so.

She wanted his hands and his lips, all of him really, badly. She wanted to know what he felt like when he really kissed her. What his fingers would be able to do to her. Biting and moaning. She desperately needed some release, wishing it would come from him, but knowing there was no chance, at least not tonight. Her hand wandered between her legs as she let her mind run wild. Imagining it was him instead, letting his fingers run along the inside of her thighs, exploring every inch of her. How he would treat her just right, hit all the right spots, do so much better than her own fingers ever could. The words he’d whisper in her ear, seducing her with his mother tongue, breath fanning her skin. How he would kiss her senseless. Feeling the rhythm of their bodies take over. Watch his tattoos start to glisten with a sheen of sweat from what they would be doing.

She found her release almost embarrassingly quickly, burying her face in her pillow. Her body felt more at ease, although her heart was still craving something more. She had almost calmed down, getting her breathing back under control. In a moment of clarity, she checked her phone to see when she had to wake up the next day, when the sound of a moan caught her attention. One that definitely wasn’t her own, but seemed to come from the room next door.

Damiano’s room.

[llitchilitchi]

Oh god this is gonna be a ramble I'm so sorry but I need to talk about how much I love your vampire au especially the parts you've shown from twitter. Vampire aus are some of my absolute top favs and that hint about forgive me if I misremember but the bit about Dream deciding to give up and simply fade away instead of like becoming immortal awakened my old fav trope. Its really rare since MCD is often not popular but in vamp stories the fanfiction market is often oversaturated with the "and the magic vamp blood healed them saving them from death during the pivotal scene" or "we must greatly angst before we turn you into a vampire and condemn you to the same sin we bear" which dont get me wrong I love greatly and will read 50 stories just like that but the sheer rarity of "I am mortal and I made peace with that. My time will come and I will pass away be it natural or no but that is the cycle of life" often brings out new emotions. Like the vamps either hurting so bad that their loved one refuses to be turned or just blatantly ignoring the fact that they are mortal and will die one day and just continueing to live in fantasy land until the time comes and then they panic. But your idea was even cooler and rarer than even that! You as far as I understood wanted Dream to choose to actively die in his loved ones arms by leting them consume him not by accident but by choice. That's so unique! Just Dream being a tiny but such an important part of their eternal lives but them still having to live on after Dream's death and what are the consequences of that. Do they regret it? Do they listen to Dream and consume him? Do they not listen to Dream and forcibly turn him? So many questions and possible answers. Like what is the general outlook on Dream's situation? A short fling? The love of their lives? A tragedy? Any path can be good if enough passion is put into it and this idea and the twitter snippets are eating me alive its so good

oh gosh anonnie<3<3<3

I saw this ask in the morning but I wasn't entirely sure how to reply

for anyone curious, the tweets in question are [this] and [this] - I would recommend reading through all the replies, though don't take any of it as definite canon but more of brainstorming

this is definitely a path that I am considering and would love to explore but there is so many ways things could go, and as much as I love the thought of Dream willingly letting himself pass away from bloodloss as George and Sapnap feed on him, the idea that it happens because of a triggered bloodlust (similar to the comics I drew) could be fun, too, especially if Dream voiced before that he Doesn't want to be turned, but his partners panicked and turned him and now have to live with the consequences of forcing him to exist like this.

on the other hand, there is something very special about writing grief and heartbreak

none of this is set in stone. I mentioned it before, these are ideas but I don't know where I want to take the au just yet. but I'm glad people enjoy this possibility as much as I do

besides, there is always the chance for me to come up with several routes the au can go, and people can choose which they prefer as canon :)

[gojology]

Intense Healing Session.

the request :

pairing : caring! healer! fem! reader x gojo satoru hehhehe warnings : cursing, implications of seggs after sum intense kissing, pet names wordcount : 2.0k a/n : yoyo i’m back!! semi-long one for u all. cute request, anon. sorry for late delivery. pls dont rate me a 1/5 on yelp </3 hehe the title is kinda funny LOL

     You’re beginning to hate Satoru.        Surprisingly, it’s not for the reasons people dislike him- he’s a bit of a blabbermouth, never quite learned how to seal his lips just because of how important he was to the jujutsu world. Unsurprisingly, he gets away with everything because he’s attractive and crucial to defeating curses, and there’s no shame in admitting it.       People hate Satoru for his destructive personality, he’s carefree and doesn’t let anything get to him. This may be a good trait for the untrained eye, but look carefully and you’ll see just how hectic he gets. It’s manageable since you don’t have to deal with him at the level of the Jujutsu elders.       You don’t particularly hate him for this, though.       It’s the fact he puts you through so much work, for almost no reason. You’re a healer- something very important to the quaint school that you worked at. Healing abilities are often overlooked, it’s often said that if a jujutsu sorcerer can’t provide offense, then they’re not much of a jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you have little to no talent in the battlefield, so essentially you’re a meat shield to everyone.      It was a growing occurrence to see him after every business trip, slightly roughed up but not enough to kill him. He comes into the room you share alongside Shoko, almost always when she’s not there, takes his shirt off, and displays a wide variety of cuts and bruises on his back like he’s a museum. You’d scold him, asking him how he’d get such abrasions with his infinity up constantly- but Satoru would hum, unanswering while you’re working your hands on his back.      Maybe you’re overreacting- but something tells you he does this on purpose, perhaps to fuck with you, and you’re bitter about it.     So it wasn’t surprising to see him whistle a sweet tune, hands shoved deep into his uniform pockets, casually strolling into the medical attention room for the fifth time this month.    “Gojo Satoru.” you say his full name aloud, just so he knows how much you hate his presence. Turning to look at you, his face displays innocent shock, but you just know that he’s probably rolling around in the inside seeing how riled up you got just by him stepping into the room.     Drained, lifeless eyes stare back at his childish bright ones.     Gojo places a hand on his chest defensively, “Well, I’ll be, Y/N. When did you want to disrespect your senior?” he snickers before shutting the door behind him. “You mad?”      “Unbearably. Lucky I care for you.” you utter back, venom dripping in your words, you feel like you’re making a fool of yourself as you shove your lunch aside that you had been enjoying on the tiny table next to you, sighing and rubbing your temples, tugging and effectively straightening your coat. “Get on the bed, let me work my magic.”     Looking at you with a shit-eating grin, he whistles, placing his elbows against the mattress, his roughened hands caressing his cheeks. “Working your magic? I’m interested. Tell me more, Y/N. Does this involve... Getting naked, perhaps?”     Staggering, you give him a dirty glare, “Satoru! I’ve been working my ass off like every week to get you all healed up, and you dare be perverted in my-”     “No cursing, lil girl! You wouldn’t want this rubbing off on Yuuji-kun and everyone else, would you? You’d be charged with a felony!” leaving you stunned for a second time- the first time being when his lanky figure strode into the room like it was his room- you don’t even know how to respond. How could one possibly be so... Ungrateful for your work?  Well, then again the elders existed... That was besides the point, though. You’re not even sure if Yuuji knows what the word fuck or shit is.     He drags his finger lazily along the cot, drawing various shapes into existence, giving you a skeptical look. “Not gonna answer? Stumped?”     He broke through your train of thought, and you shake your head. “Satoru, I don’t know any sort of fighting jujutsu, but I will fucking pulverize you and make sure you’ll be dust by the time I’m done with y-”     Butting in, he raises his hand as a way to shut you up. “Honeybun, you’re an amazing jujutsu sorcerer, but I hope you realize why they call me the strongest of all time. If you haven’t noticed, it’s because I have a constant shield. The closest you can get to doing that is maybe poking me.”     Giving him a snooty face, you’re frankly about to push him out of the room with sheer willpower and hatred alone. It seems he realizes this, a moment of adoration flickering across his eyes before finally neutralizing. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop playing with you. You’re so cute when I do though, like a little... Rabid raccoon! How can I not resist?”     It’s difficult to tell if that’s a compliment or an insult, with Satoru, it could be several things. But, you’re still slightly flattered, knowing him he’d go out of his way to lengthen his insult if it was one- just another reason why you hated him. Being called a rabid raccoon was definitely not on Satoru’s top 10 utterly offensive insults.       “Shut up, Satoru. Here, take off your shirt, what did you get yourself into this time?”       He obliges with a nasty grin on his handsome features, hastily yanking off his uniform. Underneath was a very meticulously trained body, toned muscles and all. You can’t help but to also catch a glimpse of his collarbones, which were so defined it looked like it could cut your butter for your morning pancakes. You gulp, blinking, you had forgotten just how well-shaped he was in the one week you hadn’t seen him.       “No need to stare, sweetums.” he chirps, realizing your darkening cheeks. “Feed my ego any more and I’ll probably burst and my organs will decorate your walls. You can donate my body to the local college, they’ll be surprised by how top-notch they are.”       Giving him another stern, but much more sheepish gaze, he snaps his mouth shut, but a triumphant smile replaced his grin in place.      “Please, no gruesome detailing. I’d much rather my cute kitten posters.” you motion to a white cat slumbering peacefully in a basket.      “Looks just like you.” he says.      You close your eyes and pretend he’s not there, choosing to ignore yet another one of his compliments, but your heart thumps faster in your heaving chest. Heaven knows how curious your hands could get if you could see where you were touching-      “Those are my abs, Y/N. I think we’re focusing on my back.” he muses aloud in an almost teasing tone. You can already imagine how obnoxious his face is, opening your eyes hesitantly, blinking to adjust to the bright room lights. Your hands are still hovering above his abs, his gaze is upon yours, looking at you with a mix of speculation and speechlessness. Instead of his unusual smug smirk, there’s an almost coy expression on his features, which shocked you.        “How’d your hands get there? Last time I checked, abs are at the front, not the back, hmmm?”        You grit your teeth, your face flush with warmth at your sudden realization. There was no cheeky retort you could’ve possibly come up with, after all, he was right, how did your hands wander to his abs? You weren’t thinking of doing it. You weren’t interested in him either, but he was attractive. Of course you’d be too curious for your own good.. Yes, that was it..       “Your hands are still on an inappropriate place, Y/N. Except, a lil lower than last time.” he chuckles wholesomely as you jerk up, straightening yourself and clearly sweating, your arm wiping your brow and exhaling a drawn-out and awfully dramatic sigh.       “Give me a break, Satoru. I just, um, you know... Zone out.” your pitch was unconvincing, high-pitched and wavering, bringing your chances of believability to a low.      “So, this is like, the 375th time since you’ve zoned out, lil girl.” he tsks, “You’ve gotta sound convincing if you wanna fuckin lie, you know.”      “I--” you falter, now clearly a shade darker than you were just 5 minutes ago. Your heart beating so rapidly it was almost like you were running a marathon. Why was your pulse so quick? Why was everything in the room a blur besides him? Why couldn’t you focus on healing him? What was he doing to you?      “You haven’t even begun the healing process.” he murmurs, his large hands caressing your arm that was by your side. “Anything you want to tell me, pumpkin? I’m on a tight ass schedule, but I’ll let Ijichi solve that. Spit it out.”       His voice rang out high and clear amongst the hectic fight that was going inside your head, steadying your thoughts. A few moments pass by, studying him, lips moving but no words coming out. Why was it so difficult to say through the insults, you cared for him, and wanted him to be more careful? Was it because of the monster inside of you, who wanted him to get hurt, to spend his time with you, listen to his horrible compliments and giggle at the jokes he made as you worked at a snail’s pace on his back, that weren’t even funny, but was funny because of his presence in the dead room, his boyish laugh very much needed in such days of flatness?      “Satoru..” you finally muster out, his eyes flickering on you once more as he was studying the kitten poster with much boredom. “I just.. Care for you.”      “Huh.” is all he says, face falling and examining the spotless floor. “Is that all?”      Acknowledging his body language, you huff, suddenly filled with the need to defend yourself. “What else did you want me to say? I just feel like you’ve gotten yourself hurt a lot more recently and... I just, want you to be more careful. That’s all.”     “No.” he was barely audible, so you had to lean down to hear him. “No, that’s not it at all. You’re hiding something. Do you prefer me to say it?”     Puzzled, you peer at him with childlike curiosity gleaming in your eyes. What did he know about you that you didn’t? Surely, you knew all about yourself?    “You’re not that fucking dumb, are you?”     “Huh?-” you begin to speak, clearly offended, but you’re stopped.     By none other than his lips.      They’re soft, pillow-like even. A familiar warmth floods inside of you at the sudden physical contact from Satoru, except it’s amplified by 10 times. A moan slips out of your mouth, his hand against your back so suddenly you could’ve sworn it wasn’t there just a millisecond ago. His lips were mashing against yours, as if he wanted to have done this a long time ago. You hungrily push back, teasing your mouth with his tongue that slipped just barely into your mouth before indulging in you, which you thought wouldn’t had ever happened prior to this.      You grip the back of his head firmly, as if he were to escape, other hand tangled in his snow white tufts of hair. Eyelashes fluttering, heavy breathes fanning out both of your noses, your lips were sure to be swollen after this. Your tongues dueling each other, working your mouth against his. His unoccupied hands start to play with the hem of your shirt, and another moan slips out of your mouth, anxious to have progressed so far to the removal of clothing, but at this point, you’re ready for anything.    ‧₊˚✩彡.       “I don’t think Gojo-Senpai and Y/N-Senpai are just in an intense healing session.” breathed Yuuji with a terrified look in his eyes, clutching his arm that was bloodied up, his head leaned close to the firmly shut door.        Nobara looked like she was about to faint, looking at the door as if it was a several feet tall monstrosity of a curse.        “What? What are they doing in there?” Megumi knelt down to where Yuuji was, pushing his ear against the door, and immediately his eyes shot open, a traumatized look in his fearful eyes.        “What the fuck.” 

[rxttenfish]

What’s your favorite part about your design for Miranda? Might not be the most in depth question but it’s what I’ve got

there's a LOT that i like and a lot of little details that go into her design that only really show up when you see them acting in tandem with each other (her jaws are what come to mind - she is very, VERY good at biting and biting to a terrifying degree, but you can't really see it until you put together the shape of her teeth with the serrations on them with the shape of her skull with the fused bones in her skull with the "softness" of her face created by her jaw muscles with her neck muscles - and you only get that when all of her various smaller traits work together)

but i think if i had to pick a single, purely physical aspect of her redesign it would be the nose crest

i've had it for... a while? namely, because for a long time i was drawing more humanoid miranda and miranda closer to her canon design, but i also had a full speculative design that i kept in my head, although i never really had chance to use it. that was where i added the nose crest, based off of phytosaur nose crests at the time, because i think they have funky skulls and its a shame that people outside of paleo circles dont know about phytosaurs. and it really is just a VERY appealing head shape for me.

(just look at him. look at my good boy.)

but, because i've gradually gotten more and more divergent with my artwork and with miranda over time, i eventually realized... i already had basically the rest of the head i wanted with the original total redesign, and all i had left was to move the nose up and almost between the eyes, instead of at the end of the nose.

however, one of my favorite things about having the redesigns is what i mentioned before - how all of the various parts of the design work in synchronicity together. at a certain point, even when you make a change, it all kind of WORKS with everything else you have, often even better than before the change, and it helps reinforce the idea you're going for and makes them seem all the more better adapted for what they're made to do.

in which case: merfolk's ancestors diverged from ancient amphibians. i've known this for a while, that's how they have their external + internal gill setup, and even more recently i've settled on them being a type of temnospondyl. however, its important to understand that this lineage of ancient amphibians who lived lifestyles similar to crocodiles experienced a decline in the mesozoic, entirely disappearing around the middle-cretaceous. several different factors contributed to this, but one of the big ones were being out-competed by crocodiles, and even if they had made it to the K-Pg boundary, they wouldn't have made it beyond that.

this has been a problem for me for a while. merfolk are a part of this ancient branch, but they survived to modern day, unlike their relatives, and thus would have had some kind of workaround that let them survive while the other branches of temnospondyl died out.

so far, the reason why has been two-pronged, with some adaptations that made them unique very early on and let them carve out a niche for themselves.

the first has to do with their reproductive setup. they, very early on, had live birth, and because of that, they were not as reliant on pools on water to reproduce in like other amphibians. they also had unisex individuals, which let their populations survive at lower numbers.

but the second has to do with how they accessed oxygen. this is why they have the dual gills setup - they could extract more oxygen from the water than their relatives, via waving their external gills around when they were still or having running water pass over them, or from swallowing water and pushing it out and over their internal gills when they were moving around, and both of them meant they didnt have to breathe through their skin as much, so they could cover it in scales. because they were amphibians, they had lungs too, which let them directly breathe in oxygen from the air, which gave them a further use and advantage over their counterparts, as it gave them a bigger "hit" of oxygen all at once for them to use.

which leads me back to the nose crests as one of those ancestral traits that merfolk still have today. moving the nose so radically on top of their head meant they didnt have to lift their head so far outside of the water to breathe, but because it was on its own bump and above the rest of the head anyways, they could shift their nostril position around to more directly funnel water into their gills when they swam forward, effectively giving them the best of both worlds for specializing in taking advantage of all the different ways they can access oxygen.

and both of which, in tandem, makes me feel a lot better about alluding to their evolutionary history and how they managed to last through deep time while their relatives didnt, and how merfolk were able to come about in the first place.

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

Anon said: tried to read through all your request rules, but I didnt specifically see which Characters you write for. If you do, could you write for Porco helping his S/o sleep? I have super bad insomnia most days, and I just really want something fluffy with Porco...just cuddles or stories or something. If you dont write for Porco though could you switch it with a AoT character you do write for, I'm not really picky. Thank you so much in advance! 🥺💗

Porco helping you sleep

{Porco x reader | tw:none | sleep help, fluff | canon }

{ "The Night School" C.1660-C.1665 By Gerrit Dou 1613-1675 }

Unmoving shadows cast into the empty white walls, slightly flickering with the flame on the white candle sitting on the nightstand. Half lidded eyes observe their small movements for they're the only interesting thing in this empty hotel room you've been assigned. 

Your beige uniform tucked into the small closest with a single hanger inside, the armband hanging on the closest door for easy reach. The squeak of the spring mattress chirping up whenever you moved to flip your too stiff pillow. 

Judging by the amount of melted wax collecting on the bottom of the candle, you've been awake for far too long. 

This isn't the first time this has happened, you're used to getting acquainted with the room's walls and shadowy furniture.

Sleep has abandoned you long ago, its friend insomnia visiting you daily instead. Only leaving every week or so to remind you of what you could never have, taunting almost.

You've tried to force yourself to sleep really, did every known trick in the book, you even tried mediation like Zeke has been preaching to you about, but to no avail. so you've started making peace with the thing, you know at least using the night time to get things done since you're not getting rest either way.

Books were your first friend, for staring at the walls could only be entertaining for so long, but now with your stash of books miles away back home, you're left with nothing else to do.

The nightstand drawer only contained an emergency gun with several bullets inside, and the pocket knife under your pillow wasn't interesting enough.

Getting up from the bed, you picked up the candle before slowly inching the creaky door open. Maybe a glass of water could help, who cares that this is your third time going for water in the last hour? Well hydration is important after all, or so you tried to bargain for an excuse to stretch your legs.

Attempting your best to glide through the old wooden boards without as much as a squeak, you headed towards the kitchen, passing through several other bedrooms in the process, probably all deep in dream land already.

Everything was too quiet, the sound of water filling the glass was the only thing interrupting the silence, its cool feeling going down your dry throat helped you a bit.

Drinking down what you can, you decided to take the rest with you back, a good excuse for a trip to the bathroom later. Although as you turned, a figure was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and staring at you.

"Isn't it too early for breakfast?" Porco said, covering his mouth with his hand as he yawned, "you should get some rest while you can, we're getting thrown in the front trenches tomorrow." 

Just the mention of it made your stomach roll at the thought of staying in a muddy hole for days, the smell of gunpowder and yelling of soldiers, not to mention the crowded train rides back home.

"I know, it's just…" you stared at the water moving inside your glass while tilting it, "one of those days, you know?" 

eyes narrowing with his eyebrows pulling down in concentration, even Porco's sleep clouded mind could recognise the heavy bags under your eyes. The ride here used all of your energy and now you're too tired to even sleep.

Feeling an unpleasant weight on his chest, he wasn't sure what to say as he approached you, awkwardly leaning against the sink, a heavy sigh left him.

"You know, you should bother me more often, I don't mind it." His gentle tone was followed by a melancholic smile, "let's just...go to bed."

With that his hand wrapped around your wrist, loosely at first like he was reluctant about it, before it got more secure once you didn't pull away.

…

The old door gave out a creek as it closed behind you, the room dimmer than you left it with the candle you're carrying almost burning out. 

Looking at the small bed with a single pillow, you wondered how the two grown people would fit in it and judging by the frustrated look Porco was eyeing it with, he must be thinking the same.

Looking at him, your mind wondered back to all the battles you've fought together. For some reason the superiors always seemed more strick and harsh with him, especially after the paradise mission was launched.

Belitting and nagging, carelessly throwing him in risky situations.

Your grip tightened around the water glass, feeling growing thickness in your throat. "Hey...it's okay you can go to your room, you need sleep." You said moving past him to sit on the bed, "I'll be fine."

"Should've thought of that before waking me up, now scoot over." He said, rising an eyebrow and stepping closer.

"I didn't wake you up, you're just a light sleeper." Laying down, you stretched your limbs filling the bed, "there's no room, it won't fit."

Silence filled the room for a while, you could feel his eyes roaming over you, "Oh really? Well…"

One second, you were laying on the mattress while staring at his stubborn expression in confusion, the next a pair of arms was lifting you up as he stole your place before dropping you on him. His arm circled your waist not trusting that you won't pull away

"I made it fit." he looked at you with smugness in his eyes

His warm skin felt comforting against yours, contrasting with the cold room air, you could hear his slowing heartbeat with being so close to his chest, your legs slowly tangling to fit under the blanket covering you.

Apparently that's as far as his genius plan went, because after that an awkward silence filled the room.

"So...you made it fit huh?" You couldn't help but say, a grin slowly spreading on your face. 

Porco blinked in response, tilting his head, before his eyes stilled as his ears flushed. "Fucking god, you're such a-" his attempt to scold you was interrupted by a chuckle escaping mid-sentence.

Having a contagious laugh, soon enough you too joined him.

After it died down, the atmosphere was replaced by a much more relaxed one as his hold on you softened, more intimate than the previous one. 

"When I was a kid, i used to have trouble sleeping- well more like i was too stubborn to fall asleep." Porco said, trailing his finger up your back soothingly, "and since Marcel was stuck sharing a room with me, he'd tell me stories to get me to fall asleep."

"What kind of stories?" 

"...if you tell this to anyone I'm reporting you to the higher ups you for treason, they were flower stories." Clearing his throat, you could feel his heartbeat rising under you, 

Closely watching your reaction, Porco continued after some seconds. "now I'm not calling you a kid nor do i think it's as simple, i just think...we should give it a chance." 

With the heaviness of the blanket above you and warmth of his body underneath you, it was hard to refuse his request, especially with the way he looked at you so earnestly. 

You agreed, and felt his other hand reach to pull up the blanket more, tucking you protectively between his body and the soft fabric. 

"This first one is called...well i don't remember what names Marcel gave them, but it's about poppies."

Crimson red bringers of eternal sleep, their crumbled petals and dark centers often found in the ancient tombs of soldiers.

As the mother of nature, Demeter, mourned and grieved from the betrayal of Zeus, it wasn't only the mortal realm in which death loomed at every corner, for her own mind was a tormenting prison of never ending suffering.

And so a droplet of her blood sprang and flourished to create a six petaled flower, easing her heartache if only for a moment as the poppy put her to sleep, numbing the pain.

Following in her trail was a red carpet of poppies, soon enough death and sleep themselves wore the flower, red crowns resting on top of Thanatos's held up head and one almost slipping from Hypnosi's leaning one as he dozed off. for eternal sleep was only another name for visiting the underworld. 

A symbol of peace in resting and condolence for the loss of a loved one, became the poppy's role. 

"This is why you'd often see them in people's front pockets whenever we return home." Porco said, the light slowly vanishing from the room as the candle burned itself out, the flame snuffed.

You've never questioned why a delivery of poppies would always be on the requirements in each returning celebration, it's just always been there. 

Slow and easy breathes flew through you, lazily stretching your arms up till it met something soft. Porco seemed to tense as your fingers loosely combed through his hair, leaning into the touch after a while.

"Don't stop." He murmured, sleep clear in his voice as another yawn left him.

"Do you have any other stories?" Drowsiness sweeping through your mind, you buried your hed deeper against his neck, eyelids fluttering shut.

"Yeah just…" his hand stilled from behind you as he looked into space attempting to recall a memory, soon enough the soft stroking returned. "This one is about peony."

Named after none other than Paeon himself, these flowers lived up to their reputation of healing and honour, for they have their own story to tell.

How the peony came to be declared king of flowers.

During the Tang dynasty, empress Wu Zetian strolled through her garden. Frowning at the empty field of green covered in thick white blankets of snow, the harsh season not showing mercy for the plants.

With a new goal in mind to flip this dreadful looking graveyard of a garden, she set to defy nature for she is the ruler of the land and her word is law.

Per her majesty's order, all flowers shall bloom in the midst of winter's visit.

As the word travelled far, all the fairies in the land couldn't believe their ears, how could such delicate fragile petals grow amidst the storm and snow. For flowers only bloom in spring, how could we go against mother nature?

While merciless mother nature was cruel, she couldn't compare for the empress's strong rule. For the fairies feared for their wings as their knees shook in her presence.

When the sun shined again, it welcomed colourful fields of different flowers in full bloom. The empress was pleased with their sweet smell and proud colours, each one rivaling the other.

And yet, she stood still near one flower bed, eyes wide. The peony deified her words and stubbornly refused to open, only sticks and brittle leaves left in their place.

In a fit of rage, the empress banished the flower to a far away city, striping away their status.

Living up to their stubborn nature, the peony bloomed that spring the most beautiful flowers humans have ever seen, turning the city of Luoyang into a heavenly soft land as their petals danced through the wind.

But their beauty couldn't last long, for a hungry fire swallowed them all, under the order of the empress who turned their green to coal.

And yet to everyone's surprise, when the earth circled the sun again, the peonies were back in bloom. Springing from the ashes were their mesmerising big petals and soft colours. 

In their respect, the fairies crowned them for their bravery as the ruler of the flowers, for wasn't it for their sacrifice the flowers wouldn't have been freed.

"They stayed on the right way, even if it meant going against the world." Porco's slurred words were half muffled against the pillow, head buried in it, his eyelids seemed to get too heavy for him to force them open again.

Turning his head to the side, you felt his lips press a light kiss against your forehead before whispering a goodnight, his hold still comfortably secure around you as if you might slip away. 

Soon enough, you too drifted into sleep as only his soft snoring filled the room. The moon watching over both of you through the windows as her light barely reached inside. 

And at this instant, you didn't think there was anywhere else in the world you'd rather be. Thoughts of what the future holds were pushed to the back of your mind next to the past, for the present is now and what a waste it would be not to bask in these rare moments of peace in this horrible world

[help-i-need-a-cool-username]

Fic idea

Everybody lives/Nobody dies AU set during the restoration of Erebor

Every able body has a job because its the beginning of winter and if they want to move into the mountain before it snows they have to clear it and patch any outer holes pretty fast

Bilbo can't do much because he's not as physically strong as a dwarf so he helps the wounded for a while and after that ends up in charge of food distribution and because hes the only one with the patience and (drilled in) manners ends up being the diplomatic negotiator when it comes to getting the food

and occasionally other items because dwarves dont want to deal with elves and elves dont want to deal with dwarves

So Thorin has recovered enough to start being a king again and it takes him a while (since hes either struggling to move about or sitting in meetings he cant run from) but he eventually realizes Bilbo has ended up with most of the work and duties assigned to the Queen Consort

Thorin feels all warm inside but he feels bad that Bilbo doesnt know about all this and decides he'll tell him next time he sees him...

...except next few times he sees him Thorin can't get him alone or Thorin gets called away. And then Thorin makes the mistake of imagining what it would be like if Bilbo was his consort... and never gets around to telling him because this way Thorin can keep playing pretend

This comes back to bite him of course because all his decisions do eventually

Way back when his grandfather was on the throne and they still had their kingdom Thorin's family set him up in a arranged marriage. It fell through after Smaug and last Thorin knew she was betrothed to some other dwarf

Well turns out he died before they ever got married and now that Thorin is on the throne and has his kingdom back her and her parents want to revive the engagement

They show up and Thorin obviously doesnt want to do this. He hasnt even fully recovered enough to actually bask in his glory and happiness. His largest argument against it is that Fili and Kili are already his heirs, and since arranged marriages are only created to ensure the continuation of the royal line (with the whole 1/3 population being female and therefore scarce) theres no need

Why all that is happening shes ambitious and tracks down Bilbo and asks to be included in the affairs, since is to be the Queen and he is doing the Queen's duties

Which of course Bilbo didnt know about as theres no royalty in the Shire

Thorin doesnt know she did this until she comes into a meeting with Bilbo since shes shadowing him (well as much as a Queen-to-be can shadow)

Thorin is angry. Bilbo looks mad. Thorin is now scared.

He thinks Bilbo is mad he's been doing a job equal to the King's workload and nobody told him. Thorin knows he shouldve given Kili that job as soon as he was recovered (since Fili as Crown Prince is shadowing Thorin) or got over his little fantasies and told Bilbo himself

Bilbo is actually mad that 1) Thorin is getting married and no one told him (which isnt actually confirmed but the bride acts like it is) 2) Thorin has been engaged this whole time (not true) 3) she keeps messing with his system and his charts

Bilbo as a hobbit has had manners drilled into his very core so of course he's "willing" to work with Thorin's betrothed for hours each day. Of course he acts like everything is fine. Of course he says nothing bad about her to her soon-to-be family

So of course Thorin (and Fili and Kili and Dis if shes there) think Bilbo is perfectly fine and any irritation he has is coming from having to keep adjusting his schedule and his system. Or elves. You can always count on elves to ruin your day

Then to Thorin's horror it starts to look like theyre becoming friends

Once Bilbo gets over the greatest of his itty-bitty (ha!) heartbreak he actually likes her. He really tries not to.

When that happens Thorin decides hes got to put a stop to this and puts his foot down. He is the king and his word is final. He is not getting married.

After that whole fiasco Bilbo is mad at him again 1) he has to adjust his system again to get it back where it was since hes obviously gonna have to go back to doing this himself without a partner 2) Thorin has no tact and now Bilbo and several others are scrambling to fix this mess 3) Thorin will marry someone eventually, and now the pain is being drawn out

Also Thorin never specified why he doesnt want to marry her and that brings up its own set of problems (such as insulting her whole house)

The company sends Biblo in to get answers on that last one because apparently hes the only one other than Dis that can drag answers out of him, and Dis knows but wont tell them.

Its the end of a very long day, Bilbo does not want to do this. Thorin really doesnt want to deal with this anymore tonight. Neither get what they want

Thorin says things that make this worse because of course he did

Anyways Thorin doesnt get his act together until hes informed that Bilbo has made preparations to leave mid-spring

Thorin is heartbroken which means he does one of two things: get angry and in your face, or get silent and isolate himself

Its only mid-winter now which means if someone doesnt do something this is gonna drag out another 3-4 months

Bilbo still goes around and sees his friends and basically ignores Thorin because he will not have the last weeks with the greatest friends he'll ever have get passed up because hes moping around over being in love with a king. A dwarf king. A king of incredibly secretive people. Most of his people dont trust him with anything beyond broad organization. As if he stood a chance

The days start getting longer which mean feasts will happen soon which mean Bilbo and Thorin have to actually talk to each other one-on-one

Thorin ends up swallowing his pride and apologizing. Goes back to what he thinks is the beginning of all this and also apologizes for not telling Bilbo about consort duties which gets Bilbo all confused because what does that have to do with anything? Unless its him making assumptions about hobbits? So Thorin has to explain why he didnt tell him that he was doing the consort's duties

Bilbo is all like "oh..." and instead of doing the easy thing and telling Thorin he likes him back he decides to go the embarrassing route of "thats why you kept giving me jewelry and gifts! You like me!" Eventually he gets around to telling Thorin that he likes him and he was only leaving because him getting married and therefore replacing Bilbo just reminded him that he doesnt belong here with dwarves and he really didnt want to still be in Erebor the next time the topic of weddings come up (just wait till Thorin finds out Kili fancies a elf... hopefully Fili's future engagement is less rough then this while fiasco)

[rattyoakenbitch]

Hello, I love your writing so much that I'm calling the police because of the unlawful amount of talent you have :))

I hope that youre doing well ❤️

I was wondering if I could please get will graham x reader?

✨Prompt✨ ~ one shot please

☄️Details☄️ ~ reader has a bad panic attack and shuts down and holds their breath until they end up losing consciousness.

🌨️Pronouns🌨️ ~ female reader please

🪐 alternate ask just in case you don't feel comfy with writing anxiety/panic attacks🪐 ~ will with sleepy reader who tries to make sure that everyone is happy and works hard for that?

🌌 message🌌 ~ thank you so much and I hope you have a great day ! don't forget that you are amazing and appreciated !

DUDE I LOVE YOU OMG (ok but like i literally squealed out loud 😭😭💔)

thank u so much for this!! u dont know how much i love doing requests. i hope u enjoy this as much as i did!

pairings: will graham x fem reader

warnings: panic attacks, angst, themes of depression, self doubt, passing out, very very very brief mention of suicide, brief mentions of cheating (sorry that's a lot omg). not warnings but theres eventual fluff and aftercare!!!

You sat down on the front porch cross-legged, watching as the sun came up over the hills, emitting an orange glow across the dark blue sky. Usually you'd still be in bed at this hour, but you haven't been able to catch any sleep lately. It's either you sleep all day or not at all.

Of course, not that you really minded. You loved watching the sunrise, the beginning of another day. It seemed so promising and motivating, yet it was bittersweet for you. Because it was another day of what felt like failure.

Another day where you'd rather not be alive.

Not that you were suicidal. Oh, not at all. You could never bring yourself to take a life, especially your own. But you couldn't help but fantasize about how happy everyone would be if you never existed. If you didn't take up so much damn space and waste people's time.

Your heartbeat began to speed up as several thoughts of self doubt and loathing began to fill up your head all at once.

You groaned and buried your face into your knees, covering your ears as if it would make the thoughts go away.

You spent a bit of more time on the porch, lost in your thoughts, barely keeping track of time, when a cold breeze snapped you back to reality.

You weren't wearing much, only a pair of lounge shorts, a sports bra, and one of Will's many flannels.

You grabbed the buttons of your flannel, wrapping it tightly around your figure in an attempt to keep warm. Ultimately you head inside anyways.

Coincidentally, you just caught Will about to leave.

"You're leaving already?"

You raised your brows, watching Will with suspicion.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Jack called, he wants me in right now."

"He say why?"

"Look, I don't know. I gotta go," Will said, more hurridley this time.

You pursed your lips. "Right. Sorry.."

Before you could say your goodbyes, Will was already out the door. You stood in the center of the room awkwardly, not knowing where to start from here.

You ended up taking the dogs out to walk, who seemed to enjoy it more than you did. Your mind was elsewhere.

As you carried on with your mundane every day tasks, your last interaction with Will stayed in your mind as you overanalyzed every aspect of the conversation.

He didn't even say a proper goodbye.. Or an "I love you".

What if he was getting tired of you? What if he found another woman? Was that why he left so early? Did he have a girl on the side?

All these thoughts ran through your head, and soon enough, you started to analyze your whole relationship with Will.

What did you do? Was he mad? Where did it go wrong? Did it even go wrong? Are you just being crazy? Maybe this is why he wanted to leave. He's already got enough to deal with, why would he want to put up with your problems, now?

This is all your fault.

All your fault.

All.

Your.

Fault.

You felt your breathing started to pick up, as well as your heartbeat. You fell onto your knees on the hardwood floor, digging your fingers into your own hair as you gripped tightly, like you'd lose yourself if you let go.

Your whole body trembled with fear and anxiety, the thoughts never once stopping, only seeming to intensify as your heartbeat got louder in your ears.

So loud, you almost didn't hear the front door open, or your name being called.

"Y/N!"

Your eyes shot up from the floor to Will who rushed by your side, obviously freaked out.

"Y/N, what happened? Are you hurt? Talk to me, baby, please."

Your words seemed to get caught in your throat, the only sound leaving your mouth being faint whimpers and strained cries.

After Will quickly searched for any injuries, he concluded you were having a panic attack.

"Y/N," he put his hand on your chest, "I need you to breathe for me, okay? Breathe."

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. "I can't. Oh, gods. I feel like I'm going to die. Please, I don't want to die."

Will took your hand in his, squeezing it tightly. "I'm right here, Y/N. You're not going to die. You hear me? You'll be okay."

As he continued on assuring you, his voice seemed to become fainter and fainter, as if he was far away.

Your vision became dizzy, your surroundings all a blur. You tried to focus on Will as he spoke to you, desperately trying to calm you down. But his words were completely drowned out by the sound of your panting and beating heart, before it all went black.

Slowly, your eyelids fluttered open. They felt incredibly heavy, but you managed to stay awake.

You were no longer on the floor. Instead, you were wrapped in soft, plush sheets that hugged your exhausted body.

You remembered now. You passed out in Will's arms while you had a panic attack. It only made sense, you thought, considering you hadn't had sleep in days.

Still laying down, you inspected your surroundings, your eyes falling on the curly haired man below you who also laid down, his arms securely wrapped around your lower half.

He must have felt you stirring as he began to wake up as well.

You smiled to yourself as you reached down to tangle your fingers in his curls, massaging his head while doing so.

"Y/N?"

"Hey.." you rasped, your throat raw from hyperventilating.

"How are you feeling?" He didn't give you a chance to reply as he continued. "I thought you may have actually died at first, but when you seemed alright, I took you back to rest here."

"Thank you, Will." You cleared your throat, "Can I get some water, please?"

"Of course. I'll be right back, okay?"

Will leaned in to kiss you on the forehead before heading to the kitchen to get a glass. You sat up when he came back, also noticing he brought a hairbrush as well. He sat behind you while you drank, hugging you, caressing your body gently as if you were made out of glass.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Usually you would decline, but you hesitantly nodded your head.

Will pulled away and ran the hairbrush through your tangled strands of hair as you spoke, gently undoing the knots and being careful not to hurt your scalp.

"I've been overthinking a lot.. About every day life. Who I am. Us.." He let you continue. "I thought you were mad at me this morning and I couldn't let it go.. Then I began to think you were getting tired of me and.." You sighed. "You're such a good man, Will Graham. And you have a lot on your plate. I hated to think I was making your life even more difficult..." You trailed off, awaiting his response.

But he remained silent, he even stopped brushing your hair.

The air felt tense. And you needed to apologize quickly.

"I- I'm sorry you had to deal with that," you whispered. "With me."

"Why are you sorry, my love?" he spoke softly, his voice holding no tone of resent or hate. He embraced you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder as he whispered into your ears, now and then placing warm kisses on your neck & shoulder. "You've done nothing wrong. You're just as perfect as you were the day I laid eyes on you. You still make me feel the way I did when we first kissed, or when you first told me you loved me." You felt your heart ache at Will's loving words.

"Will.."

"It hurts to see you hurting like this, because I love you, Y/N. Even on days when you don't love yourself."

Will placed a finger under your chin, tilting your face towards him. He watched your face with adoration, his eyes never once leaving your glossy doll-like ones. You felt blush creep up on your cheeks as Will spoke, his hot breath fanning your face. "I always did think you were the most beautiful girl in the world." With that, he leaned in to lock his lips with yours, as if to prove his love for you. And you believed it.

[thequeenb]

love ur poppy fics sm 😭❤️ can I request a fic where poppy and mc are at a party and they end up playing spin the bottle which lands on mc and Veronica leading to them having a heavy make out leading to a jealous poppy

Poppy x MC

This is for the haters on my anon inbox begging me to stop writing about a bully. Enjoy sweethearts

Another frat party another drunk me. Its Luis birthday today and we have been invited of course, no surprise there. What did surprise me is Veronica sitting with the boys chatting freely without Poppy on her side.

"Bea is in the houuuuusee" Carter says giving me and Zoe a side hug

"Welcome to our humble home" Luis says approaching us

"Well hello there birthday boy, i got you a little something" i hand him a jersey shirt i bought him and just for a second i catch Veronica staring at me but its probably my imagination

"You didn't have to! Your presence is enough" he winks at me and Zoe wolf whistle, Thanks Zo always so helpful

"Let the poor girl alone you flirt" Veronica approach us getting into the conversation. Surprisingly she stands next to me and i honestly freak out a little bit

"You are no fun V" Luis says leaving us alone. Great, everyone has been so helpful tonight

Veronica turns to face me and i swallow hard. The only time i see her is when she is glued to Poppy's side but something about her tonight is different, she feels more free

"So Luis huh? He is quite the catch"

Was that her teasing? Her eyes scan my outfit and i thank God i let Zoe dress me up today. I wear short shorts and a purple crop top

"You like what you see?" I smile teasing her even more but of course someone interrupt us and we have to cut our conversation short

"SPIN THE BOTTLE!!" some boys yell and Zoe looks terrified

"Girls are you in?" Carter shove us into their circle and i bite down the 'no' that i was going to say

More people join in and i watch as Veronica sits across from me smirking. What is happening tonight?

"Alright so you all know the rules, don't hold anything back!" Luis says placing an empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle. Giving it a light spin i watch it intently praying to god not to land in me

Aaaaand of course it does, because me and luck don't have a good relationship. I sign looking at the other end if the bottle and oh my god. Veronica!? You have to be kidding me

I am ready to hear the rejection but she just shrugs getting up. There is a disappointment and an excitement growing inside of me and I can't tell what causes it. Looking around everyone is staring at us like we are the only ones here. God damnit it i feel so obliged to do it and oh my, the way she is watching every move i make is sexy

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask her and she laughs

"Of course Hughes, its just a game"

Right, its just a game Bea wake up. But the way she undresses me with her eyes says otherwise. Without thinking twice i stand up throwing my arms around her neck

"Hello there" her breath ghosts my lips and i can tell she had been drinking. Her eyes fall to my lips and I don't think she realises that she licks hers seductively, or does she?

"You know we--" i tried to reassure her that we don't have to do anything but she crushes her lips against mine

Everything stops. The people around us cheer and whistle but their voices fade as i focus on Veronica's amazing kissing skills. Our tongues fight for dominance as i press my body against hers. She tastes like strawberry and whiskey and i get lost in our moment

She runs her hand up my back, her fingertips raising goosebumps all over my body. She then place her hand on my hair grabbing a fistful pulling my head back. I bite down a moan but then she licks my neck and i lose control

The cheers stop and we both pull away remembering we are in public. The silence makes me uneasy but then i see why everyone is shocked

Poppy stands right behind Veronica like she is about to stab her in the back. Seeing my worrying look V turns around facing the Devil

"What is going on here??" She asks crossing her arms. Chloe is right next to her, aw how cute my favourite minion

Veronica rolls her eyes "we are playing spin the bottle. I asked you girls to come to the party but you had a nail appointment"

"Um Duh? This is a ridiculous party anyways" Chloe says and i have to step in

"Luis i didn't knew you invited trash to your party"

The way Poppy stares at me right now is like a lion watches its prey and i swallow hard remembering how much power she holds

"The only trash here is you and your so called friend Zoe, but i didn't knew V had such low standards"

Oh dont go there Min-Sinclair

"And why do you care that much? It was a game right darling?" Veronica looks at me smiling picking up my game

"I wouldn't mind playing games with you in a more private room" she winks and oh boy, Poppy's head is about to explode

"I want to vomit" Chloe says being the dumb bitch that she is

"Funny, thats exactly what i want to do everytime i see you" Zoe claps back and i have to hold my laugh, at least i should try and look intimidating

"Don't play with fire if you don't want to get burned Farmsville" Poppy takes a step closer and i can sense her anger

"Why are you even bothered? I am so insignificant to you aren't i? So why?" I take a step towards her as well and now we are one breath away

That exact moment her expression changes for just a second, her anger is replaced by pain and a low whisper escapes her lips

"Why her?"

I gasp not knowing if she really just said that or it is my mind playing games "What did you say?"

"I said how dare you kiss my friend?!" There she is. Again her eyes are filled with unexplainable fury and i am trying to understand why it bothers her that much

"Pops relax, its just a game okay? Lets just leave" Veronica tries to pull her away but she stands still looking right through my eyes

"If i see you near V ever again, if you walk besides her or even dare to breathe the same air she does i will make sure you suffocate" she pushes me back and woooow she can be really scary

"Just because you are beautiful and finally have a fashion sense doesn't mean you run this university" i started to back away from her as she takes several steps closer to me

"And i will destroy you and your stupid beautiful face a thousand times if i have to"

The air abandon my lungs. I have never seen her so angry before. The way she looks at me is like she is hurt but why is she so cruel then? Everyone looks at us and Zoe is trying to hold back her laugh, did she just compliment me!?

"Wow there, did you just flirt with me Min-Sinclair?" I raise my eyebrow smiling

And when i tell you her whole face changes. I can see her life flashing right Infront of her own eyes, terror fills her eyes and i can see a light pink colour forming around her cheeks. Did i just make Poppy shy?

"I-i am not! H-how dare you say that?" Her voice breaks, isn't she adorable?

I smirk gazing at her lips, should i do it? Is this the reason she is so frustrated right now? Is this why she is so mad at Veronica and i?

I take a deep breath and i gather all my courage. Leaning forward i give her a soft kiss not knowing if she really wants this. I pull away slightly watching her eyes go wide, someone fucked up

"What are you doing?" She asks completely confused

"Jealous Poppy is adorable" i say placing my hand slowly on her cheek. For a second i think she will pull away and actually kill me but instead she leans forward once again kissing me softly

This time our kiss escalates to a passionate make out session. Everyone around us clap and this time, i really don't care. All i focus on is Poppy's taste and warmth and i get drunk in her expensive perfume

"Kiss Veronica again and i will kill you" Poppy says breathing heavily

I press my forehead against hers smiling "If this is your definition of 'killing' then i will take my chances"

"Oh shut up"

And just like that she kisses me again and again getting lost in eachother's embrace. This is so sudden yet it feels so right and honestly? Who knows where this will go?

Tag list: @lolimugly @origmansello @greatestflirt-hero @mvalentine @otakufangirl-12 @sugarplumpnhoneybun @princessstellaris @indecisive-choices @i-loveeveryone @kiara-36 @ognenniyvolk @somewillwin @it-lives-in-braidwood-manor @ghalind @sergeant-pepper-loves-choices @dibberdipper @tyrils-star @justastranger-passing @nydeiri

[ibijau]

Number 13 for otp prompts with sect leader Yao and sect leader ouyang :)

This took way too much effort to write and so dear anon, I hate you a little for it, but my pride is intact, I wrote the thing!

cql-verse

In the end, there is some small comfort to be found in meeting an old, familiar face in the halls of Carp Tower, even if the circumstances could hardly be worse. Sect Leader Yao is grateful when Sect Leader Ouyang comes to check on him and his injuries. 

That it happens several times in the days that follow is a testament to Sect Leader Ouyang's loyalty to his friends. Among the many people who have run to Lanling for help, Sect Leader Ouyang is the only one who spares a thought for Sect Leader Yao, now that his sect is no more. The only person to come see him is Jiang Fengmian's daughter, a dull girl who must only try to escape political discussions she cannot understand. 

Sect Leader Yao would give anything for a chance to join those same discussions, but his health does not yet allow it, and his status even less so. A man with only two disciples left can hardly be called a sect leader, his opinion is without value. 

Still, Sect Leader Ouyang keeps him updated each time he visits, and as soon as Sect Leader Yao's health allows, takes him for a walk to the gardens. 

That walk takes them to an isolated spot where they sometimes sneaked off to when they were young and forced to accompany their fathers at discussion conferences. To make the nostalgia worse, Sect Leader Ouyang even brought wine, for which Sect Leader Yao is grateful. He's been wanting to get drunk since the moment he fully realised just how much he lost.

"And still nobody will rise against the Wens," Sect Leader Ouyang grumbles. "They're saying it was a misunderstanding. They're all just glad it was you and not them. Only that Nie idiot is calling for repercussions, but he's been doing that for years." 

Sect Leader Yao nods, and takes a sip of wine straight from the jar. The sun rises, water flows, Nie Mingjue wants to kill the Wens so he doesn't have to accept his father was just crazy. 

"Wouldn't be like that if it had been a great sect they attacked," Sect Leader Yao grumbles.

"They attacked the Lans and nobody cared," Sect Leader Ouyang points out, leaning against his side, like they did when they were young. 

"That hardly counted as an attack. Even killing Qingheng-Jun… Did you even know he was still alive? Thought the man was dead with his wife. I'd heard he killed himself over her corpse and the Lans just wouldn't admit it."

"I heard that he found her in bed with his brother," Sect Leader Ouyang announces, grabbing the wine. "So he killed her, and dumped the sect on Lan Qiren as punishment. I've heard both the boys are Lan Qiren's, and that's why he won't marry. Doesn't need to, he's sure already that his sons will inherit the sect." 

That makes sense, so it must be true, Sect Leader Yao figures. 

"He wasn't half bad looking as a youth," he admits. "The beard was a mistake though. He doesn't have the face for it." 

"Not everyone is as lucky as us. It takes effort to look this dignified." 

The sound that comes out of Sect Leader Yao's throat is very nearly a giggle. He blames it on the wine, and on the company. He used to like it a lot when Sect Leader Ouyang complimented, back before they became sect leaders and had to be serious. Life was better back then, when they didn't have wives to bother them, when the Wens protected small sects from the great ones, and they could Night Hunt together all they liked. 

"Come to Baling with your boys," Sect Leader Ouyang suddenly offers, passing him back the jar of wine. "Until it's safe to go home and start recruiting again. I wouldn't mind the company, either. My wife is insufferable since she's become pregnant, I'd like to have someone sensible to talk to instead of putting up with all her gossip."

"Women talk too much," Sect Leader Yao agrees. "You sure she wouldn't mind having me and the boys around?" 

"Why would she mind? It's my house, my sect. She can go complain to her mother if she doesn't like that, it won't change a thing. I won't abandon a friend in need." 

Sect Leader Yao can't help laughing, remembering times of their youth when they helped each other when the need arose. Sect Leader Ouyang looks at him with a puzzled expression, then joins in the laughter when he figures out the cause of that hilarity, shoving Sect Leader Yao and cursing him for his dirty mind. 

Everything is different these days, but at least some things dont change.

[genshinfanboy]

Time To Take a break.

|Hello everyone. Somehow I got fans. That's pretty cool. I have two more people for myself indulgent one-shots. So the two requests I have please forgive me for a bit longer. Also it seems as if everyone is simping for Childe and wants angst for him. This one-shot will be for Diluc and a cryo user male reader. Kaeya will also like the reader for this one but his feelings won't be returned. Like always you may change the pronouns to fit your own. Spoiler warning for a bit in the manga. Please enjoy.

Diluc x Cryo Male reader x one-sided Kaeya.

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

(Y/N) was a traveler who hadn't been to his home in Monstadt for a few months. He was making his way home. Hoping to see Master Diluc and Master Kaeya. He knew Diluc his entire life. He was a bit younger than Diluc by two years. When they were kids no one could seperate them. His parents had worked at the Dawn Winery his whole life which is why he grew up in one of the servant quarters. Around the age of 15 he had become a helper around the manor. He got into a bit of a habit of calling Diluc and Kaeya master after that point. Diluc seems a bit annoyed because of the habit. When he turned 18 he left the Dawn Winery to be come an adventure. He made a promise to always visit Diluc and Kaeya whenever he came back to Monstadt. He would be lying if he said he didn't have feeling for Diluc. The older male always made his heart skip a beat. When Kaeya joined their duo with his teasing (Y/N) learned how to easily maintain his blush. He always admired how much Diluc did for their beloved Monstadt. He decided he was going to surprised the red haired male later and went to the knight's of Favonious headquarters. He smile and waved at the knights at the door. They exchanged greetings before (Y/N) went in to find Kaeya. He ran into Noel and greeted her. He asked if she had seen Kaeya anywhere. "Oh yes I think I saw Sir Kaeya heading towards the cathedral. Would you like me to go fetch him for you?" She asked with a smile. He shook his head no. "I'll go find him myself thank you for the information Noel. Remember to take care of yourself." (Y/N) said patting her head with a smile. She had leaned into the touch before waving bye. He started making his way up the stairs. Sure enough he had seen Kaeya infront of the statue of Barbados. He had something in his hands. (Y/N) walked behind him and covered Kaeya's visible eye. "Guess who?" He quickly said to make sure Kaeya doesn't think he's under attack. "Hmm if I had to guess it would be someone who I love to tease and grew up with. Oh but we aren't that close anymore because he decided to leave Monstadt. I had to find a new best friend." Kaeya said with a teasing tone. He gave a laugh. He's liked the other for awhile now but knew he had no chance compared to Diluc. If he could steal (Y/N) from his adoptive brother he'd do so in a heart beat. Kaeya removed the hand from his eye and turned around. He was still holding the other's hand. He brought it up to his lips and gave it a quick kiss. "What do I owe the pleasure of this meeting to?" He asked with his signature smirk. (Y/N) shook his head with a laugh at the action. "Your flirting won't work on me. You should know better by now. I have a few people sending me commissions in Monstadt. So I've returned home for a bit. What do you got?" He asked pointing to the small package. Kaeya listened intently. "I'm glad your home. Perhaps you could help me deal with something. People around town have noticed Diluc looking rather pale and not the best in health. Charles in particular has been worried that he's sick and overworking himself. I told him I'd take care of it. So I went to Barbara to get some medicine. Then I started thinking who I should send to give it to Diluc. If I went I'm sure we'd end up in a fight. It would also be much more interesting to send you." Kaeya explained. (Y/N) listened to Kaeya's request. He looked a little worried about Diluc. He overworked himself to the point of illness when his father passed. The younger male never wanted to see Diluc like that again. "Leave it to me Kaeya. I'll make sure He rests and gets better." (Y/N) said with a determined look. "I'm guessing you don't want your name mentioned Kaeya?" He got his hair messed up in response. "Always one step ahead of what I'm thinking (Y/N) I don't want to cause a conflict. Let me know when he is better." Kaeya said before walking off. Sometimes he wish the younger male would've fallen for him instead.

(Y/N) made his way to Angels Share to make sure Diluc wasn't working at the Tavern. He peaked his head in and saw Charles behind the counter. He gave a sigh of relief. "Hey Charles is Master Diluc at the Winery?" He asked with a smile. "From what I know he is. I wish he'd stay there. He is planning on coming in later. Everyone has tried telling him to stay home. He refused to listen to anyone though. You might be able to keep him down to rest. I asume that you're not going let him come here? At this point I'm sure who is more stubborn. You or Master Diluc." Charles said with a sigh. (Y/N) gave a small laugh. "We'll see if I can make him stay in bed." He said before waving bye. After a bit he had made it to Dawn Winery. He greeted several people he knew from when he worked there. He saw the head maid and asked where Diluc was. He was a bit relieved to hear that master Diluc was in his room but also worried because he was getting ready to do vigilante things. He informed her that he'd take care of him. He made his way upstairs to Diluc's room he knocked on the door. He wanted to make sure the older male wasn't in the middle of changing. "For the last time I am going and you can't stop me." Was heard from the other side. (Y/N) walked in. "You look awful Master Diluc. I will stop you if I have to. Charles told me that you were sick and I got worried. I wanted to check on you. Why are you pushing yourself so much?" The younger male said crossing his arms. Diluc looked surpised to see (Y/N) there. "I have too much to do. The Abyss Order has been super present. It's no time to worry about a small cold." Diluc stated not looking the other in the eyes. "Your body is just going to get weaker and weaker the more you continue like this Master Diluc. For one night would you be willing to leave the matters to the knights? I know you dont want to think about that idea but please do it for one night." The younger male asked. Diluc gave a sigh. He fixed his gloves and got ready to head out. "I'll be fine (Y/N) I am always fine. You're welcome to rest here if you'd like. Coming back from Liyue must've been tiresome. Also just call me Diluc. You've known me your entire life. There is no need to use master before my name." He stated before he ended in a coughing fit. He walked past the other heading towards the door after the fit was over. He was almost to the door when he felt two arms wrap around his torso holding him in place. "Diluc please I'm begging you. I don't want to see you collapse. I already had to see it once. I never want it to happen again. If you can't trust all of the knights at least trust Jean. One day is all I'm asking of you. We haven't seen each other in a year and I come back to find out that you are ill. I care too much about you to let you destroy yourself. I fell in love with you forever ago. If you don't return my feelings it's whatever but I will not stand by idly and watch you destroy yourself. If you won't rest willing then I'll use for if I have to. I know you're not one for physical interaction but holding you like this is the only way I can think of to get you to stay. " (Y/N) said holding onto him tightly. He saw Diluc turn his head to look at him and saw reluctance in his eyes. Diluc stood there for a moment thinking he was sure (Y/N) could feel his heart beat. "Fine one day." He muttered with a deep sigh.

(Y/N) gave a relieved smile. He let go of Diluc and watched him take his coat off. "Get your sleepwear on and I'll get you some water to take a bit of medicine." He said with a soft tone. He walked out to get some water for the other. Diluc felt his face heat up as he changed. He felt his exhaustion finally catching up with him. He didn't realize how tired his body was until then. He laid down to wait for (Y/N) to come back. He'll just sneak out later when the other was asleep. He waited a few minutes before his eyes started feeling really heavy. Before he knew it his was asleep. (Y/N) had decided to make Diluc some soup. He saw the relief in the servants eyes when he came downstairs grinning proudly. He wondered how long Diluc pushed himself for. He gave yet another sigh as he finished making the soup. He came back to Diluc's room and saw him asleep. He set the soup down on a table and walked over. He placed a hand on the other's forehead. He frowned the temperature was definitely higher than normal. The other was always warm compared to (Y/N). He wondered if it was because of their visions. He activated his cryo vision lightly in his hand on Diluc's head. He didn't want Diluc over heating. He was going to be taking care of the man he loved for hours. He knew Diluc pushed his body way to hard. He stayed by Diluc's side for hours taking care of him. He would tend to Diluc whenever he woke up in a feverish fit. Sometime in the middle of the night he fell asleep resting part of his body on the bed beside Diluc. The next morning Diluc woke up feeling groggy. He didn't remember much of yesterday. When he started waking up more He felt a bit more weight on his bed than usual. He quickly sat up in a panic before he saw his childhood friend next to him. Did the idiot not take care of his own needs? He started recollecting his thoughts from the day before and remembered that (Y/N) literally confessed to him. He also remembers a cooling sensation on his head at points when he was sleeping. He noticed his friend's vision and how close (Y/N)'s hand was to him. He cooled him down all night with his vision. His face matched his eyes and hair at this point. He felt shifting beside him and looked over worried. (Y/N) woke up looking around a bit disoriented for a second. Then he noticed Diluc sitting up. He instantly woke up. "Diluc how are you feeling?" He asked seeming worried. "I'm fine thanks to you. I have a question. Did you mean it when you said you loved me?" Diluc asked once again looking away from the younger male. He heard a bit of laughter and felt his heart sink a bit. Was that just a joke? He felt more weight right next to him. He glanced over to find the (H/C) haired male sitting next to him. "Of course I did. I can't believe you didn't notice from my years of obviously crushing on you since I was 15. When you became the Calvary captain I was swooning for you. Everyone else knew. Kaeya used to tease me about it constantly. When I left for Liyue I told you that there was something important I had to say when I returned. It was my feelings towards you. The question is do you feel the same about me and would you be mine?" He asked leaning slightly into Diluc's personal space. He just got a small nod. Which put the biggest grin on the younger male's he wrapped his arms around Diluc's shoulders and kissed his cheek. "Then would you rest a bit more for me?" He wanted to make sure Diluc recovered completely. He was fond of the dark blush on the older male's cheeks. It was definitely a rare sight to see and he loved it. He got a nod and hug in return.

|Thanks for reading.