#please note that this is a work in progress so the final fic tags are subject to change!

[vegasol]

I'm so excited to be working with the super talented @monologichno on this project for the @steddiebang2024 🤩

Eddie Munson is only 18, but he has it all figured out. He’s got the world’s most beautiful girlfriend, and his band is preparing for their first proper gig. One day they’re going to be world famous, the name Corroded Coffin on everyone’s lips. Everyone’s lips on Eddie Munson. Sex, rock, and revolution, that’s going to be his life.

But then a new kid enters the class and Eddie’s life. There’s something about Steve Harrington that he can’t put his finger on, and Eddie finds himself inexplicably drawn to him. Like an asteroid drawn into orbit.

Eventually he figures out what it is. He’s in love with Steve. It’s all-consuming, but it confuses him. He still loves Chrissy, and he doesn’t want to give up on what he’s got. This realization about himself couldn’t have come at a more unfortunate time, with his relationship going so well, and the gig coming up. When his home life takes an unexpected turn for the worse, the whole mess is complete.

Eddie wants it all. He does his best to juggle all his obligations, to Chrissy, to Corroded Coffin, and to his uncle Wayne, with his newfound infatuation for Steve. Despite his best efforts, he’s caught up in his own web of lies, and he’s at risk of hurting those he cares about the most.

Can Eddie make things right, or will he lose it all?

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Melt with You

Pairing: Billy Taylor (The Halcyon) x f!reader Warnings: Smut, oral sex (m receiving) Word count: ~3k

Summary: Snowed in at the Halcyon, Billy and his girlfriend have to find ways to keep themselves occupied. Can be read as a second part to Sweeter Than This, but also works as a standalone.

Author's note: Day three of Smuffmas - blizzard and blow job. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She has had a spring in her step all day long. From the moment she stepped out of her front door that morning, and felt the first chilly flakes of snowfall upon her cheeks, to the beds she has stripped throughout the day, she hasn’t been able to shift the smile from her face, or the excited flutters from her belly – she has the house to herself this evening, and Billy is coming over.

From the moment her and Billy’s relationship had progressed from friends to something more, they had struggled to find alone time together. With Billy kept busy on the anti aircraft guns down at the army barracks, and her working long shifts at the Halcyon, finding a free moment was almost impossible. Their living situations didn’t help matters either; both lived with their mums. On the occasions when Peggy would work a night shift on the hotel switchboard, she would go over to Billy’s, but their evenings together usually consisted of looking after his little sister.

When things grew heated between them, it was always a stolen moment on a break in one of the rooms she had yet to turn down. They had never spent a full night together, and still hadn’t had sex, though after six months of courting, she wasn’t sure she was quite ready for that. Her mind often wandered to the first time he had brought her to peak on his tongue, the memory making her core throb with want and her skin grow heated. Billy had done it twice more since then, and she was eager to make him feel just as good without going all the way. She just didn’t know how.

It had been Kate who had suggested she return the favour. “You know you can use your mouth on him too?” she’d suggested as they had been folding clean sheets and towels.

She’d felt her cheeks blaze with embarrassment as her eyes had widened. “You mean…put his…his thing in my mouth?!”

Kate had laughed, playfully flicking a pillowcase at her. “You needn’t act so bloody daft, you seem quite happy to be on the receiving end.��

She sighed, her hands pausing mid fold and looked shyly up at her fellow maid. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t know how. What if I get it wrong and he laughs at me?”

“Billy? Laugh at you?” she had scoffed, “he would never. He’ll think all of his Christmases have come at once. It’s called a ‘blow job’.”

“How do you know so much about it?”

“I was seeing a fella who’s a pilot. He taught me how. I can tell you how to do it, if you want?”

She had chewed her lip anxiously, the very idea of discussing something so intimate made her incredibly embarrassed, but at the same time she was curious, and if she was going to do this for Billy, she wanted to make sure she did it right. Finally, she had nodded her assent and for the next twenty minutes the pair of them had giggled and spoken in hushed whispers as Kate had explained precisely what she did when orally pleasing a man.

Tonight, she was planning to put what she had learned into practice. Her mum was working a night shift at the factory, Billy had the night off from the barracks, and Peggy wasn’t working the Halcyon’s switchboard, meaning he wouldn’t be needed to babysit. She was due to finish her shift at 6pm, then Billy would meet her in the hotel lobby and they would walk back to hers. An entire evening together, she couldn’t wait.

She was jittery with excitement by the time she finished for the day, her hands shook as she changed out of her black and white maid’s uniform and into a green, collared dress with an A-line skirt. Kate had let her borrow her expensive Elizabeth Arden lipstick in the shade ‘Montezuma red’, stating “you want his attention to be drawn to your lips, trust me”. She applied a liberal coat to her lips, taken aback by how the bright crimson did indeed draw all attention to her mouth as she stared in the mirror.

She hurried from the staff room in the back, her coat and bag slung over her arm, before she could give herself the chance to change her mind and wipe it all off.

Billy was sitting in one of the foyer's plush leather armchairs as she walked out, and her face lit up the moment she saw him, a wide smile spreading across her face. He was out of his uniform too, having swapped his olive green jacket and trousers for a white collared shirt beneath a grey woolen jumper and brown slacks. His hair was slicked back with Brylcreem, though a few strands had fallen loose around his temples. He looked so handsome, and it was nice that for once they could just be themselves together; her and Billy, not the maid and the soldier.

His jaw fell agape as he finally turned to look at her, his eyes travelling from her head to her toes and back again, before he stood to greet her. “Wow…you look…wow.”

She giggled, glad she stuck with the lipstick as she watched him flush a deep shade of pink. “Ready to get out of here?” she asked, “I know I am.”

He nodded, grabbing his coat from the arm of the chair as she started to put her own on. “Yeah, might have to mind how we go though,” he gestured towards the bottoms of his trousers, which she could now see were damp, “snow was coming down pretty heavy when I walked here an hour ago.”

“You got here an hour ago?” She asked with a playful smile.

Billy busied himself with putting his coat on, an attempt to hide his embarrassment. “Was excited to see ya.”

She’s about to respond, to tell him how sweet he is, when the hotel’s chief concierge, Feldman, walks in from outside, his footsteps clicking against the polished floors. He dusts white flakes from the lapels of his jacket as he walks, stopping when he sees them both. 

“You’re not both going out in that, are you?” He asks, a look of genuine concern causing his brows to pinch together.

She nods. “Billy’s gonna walk me home.”

“In this weather?” Feldman says, “I hardly think so.”

“Just a bit of snow, Mr. Feldman,” Billy retorts, “we’ll be alright.”

“Look outside,” the chief concierge tells them, gesturing towards the doors, “there’s a blizzard. We’ve had three no shows already because of it.”

She hurries towards the main doors of the hotel, struggling to push them open against the force of the wind. Peering out, she can see a thick blanket of white covering the entire street, too thick to drive safely in, let alone walk. The wind howls, ushering with it a continuous steady flurry of fresh snowfall.

This is a stark contrast to the light dusting that she walked through on her way to work this morning. She’d been stuck in the windowless laundry room for most of the day, so hadn’t realised how bad the weather had gotten.

Feeling Billy’s presence behind her, his chest against her back as he looks too, she turns to him, her voice dejected as she asks “what are we going to do?”

“You’ll both just have to stay here until it’s safe for you to go home,” Feldman answers for him, “with the no shows due to the weather, I’m sure there’d be no objections to you both taking one of the empty rooms if it ends up being overnight.”

“Thanks, Mr. Feldman”, Billy responds as they head back towards the staff room.

She flops down onto the threadbare sofa of the back room of the hotel, sighing heavily as she shrugs out of her coat. Tonight was supposed to be special and now it was all ruined, thanks to the snow.

“What’s with the face?” Billy asks gently, coming to sit beside her.

“I was really looking forward to tonight,” she whines.

Billy nods in understanding, giving her knee a reassuring squeeze. “I know, so was I. But we’ll still have a nice time, won’t we? Doesn’t matter where we are, as long as we’re together.”

“I’d baked you a Lord Woolton’s pie,” she protests, “and…and I…well, it doesn’t matter now,” she trails off, not having the courage to explain what else she’d had in mind for their night alone.

“It’ll keep,” he says with a shrug, smiling earnestly, “you can bring me a slice down to the barracks.”

She can’t help but smile back, and feel slightly guilty. Here she is, sulking about how things have gone wrong, when Billy is trying to make the best of it, just like he always does. “I’ll bring you the whole thing.”

“Tell you what, I bet the kitchen has some stuff knocking about, I could grab us a few things, and we could have that for our tea.”

She huffs a laugh, swatting playfully at his arm. “You can’t go skulking about the kitchen, Billy, you don’t work here anymore.”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” He asks, getting up and chucking his coat over the back of the sofa, before walking out.

After a few moments he returns with a platter and two bottles of beer. He sets everything down upon the rickety table in front of where they’re sitting; a spread of Spam sandwiches and sponge cake.

“Didn’t wanna take anything fancy,” he explains apologetically, “George was watching me.”

“This is perfect,” she says softly as he sits next to her again.

“Remember these?” Billy asks, picking up a Spam sandwich, “we used to eat them every lunch break.”

She giggles and nods. “I remember you always used to eat my fish paste ones, because I didn’t like them.”

Billy wrinkles his nose in disgust, making her laugh harder, and the two fall into a comfortable silence, eating cake and sandwiches as they sip their beers and watch through the window as the blizzard continues to blanket London in a heavy white shroud.

She stares thoughtfully at him, watching the way the low lamplight of the staff room illuminates the sharp features of his face. Despite tonight being the furthest thing from what she had planned, she still wants to make him feel good; he had been so positive, when she had been all too eager to complain.

“Billy..?”

“Mmm..?” He replies, looking away from the window to where she sits beside him.

“Want to find one of those free rooms?”

“Not time for bed yet, is it?” He asks with a grin.

“I don’t want to sleep,” she says, pushing off of the sofa, casting a knowing glance over her shoulder at him, as she walks away.

“Oh…oh,” his eyes widen in realisation as he almost trips over his own feet in his haste to follow her.

She lets herself into one of the empty rooms - one she had turned down herself earlier that day - and quickly reapplies her lipstick in front of the large mirror that sits atop the vanity, the beer and sandwiches having faded its bright red hue slightly.

The hotel room did make for a more plush surrounding for what she has planned - the cramped confines of her single bed are leagues apart from the opulence of the crisp white linens and velvet lined furniture of The Halcyon.

The moment the door clicks closed behind Billy, he wraps his arms around her. It’s like second nature to him now to do so, though she can still feel the heavy pounding of his heart; he is no less nervous, he’s just gotten better at hiding it.

“I really wanna kiss you,” he whispers, his voice trembling slightly, “but I don’t wanna ruin your pretty lipstick.”

“Didn’t bring you in here to kiss you,” she whispers back.

Billy swallows thickly, a light dusting of pink tinting his skin all the way to the tips of his ears as he grins impishly at her. “Oh right, you want me to…er–”

“No, not tonight,” she explains, fighting the urge to chuckle at the sudden look of confusion that passes across his face. “Tonight, I’m going to do something for you.”

Reflexively, his fingers tighten slightly on her waist. “Do what?”

Mustering more bravery than she feels, she battles to keep her cool as she responds, not wanting to show any hesitation or embarrassment. “Do you know what a blowjob is, Billy?”

His eyes widen as his jaw falls agape, staring at her in utter disbelief. “You…you can’t…I mean, yeah, but you…you don’t have to…”

The stammered display of consideration for her feelings reassures her, quieting any apprehension she had previously felt. She is surer now than ever that she wants to do this for him.

“I want to,” she insists, “will you lay on the bed for me?”

She can see the way his chest heaves with how heavy his breathing has gotten, but he nods, removing his shoes and laying down. She is swift in joining him, her hands moving to his belt.

“Can I?” She asks.

His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted as he stares at her, before nodding enthusiastically. She can feel her own pulse racing, nervous excitement fluttering in her belly. She unbuckles his belt, before working open the button of his slacks and unzipping them. As the material parts, she can see the outline of him through the white cotton of his briefs. She gazes at it, her mouth going dry at the sight. She’d never seen this part of him before, let alone touched it.

She looks up at him, seeing he’s watching her intently, his cheeks flushed. She knows the question she needs to ask, and hates that she has to, knowing it will betray her inexperience. “Are you…are you hard?” she utters meekly, “you have to be for me to do this.”

“Er…only half,” he murmurs, “need you to touch me.”

His complete lack of judgement emboldens her, and she nods, grasping the waistband of his briefs. “I can do that,” she says, tugging them down.

She studies his cock with fascination as she takes it into her hand, stroking gently from base to tip and back again, just as Kate had said she would need to. She marvels at the softness of the skin, the way it glides with each stroke of her palm. Billy lets out a soft groan as his head falls back against the pillow and she feels him grow larger, more rigid in her hand. The tip is bulbous, ruddy in colour and she can’t help but wonder how he will taste against her tongue.

“I–I’m ready when you are,” he pants softly.

She nods, drawing in a breath, before delicately wrapping her lips around the head of him, careful not to let her teeth touch him. The taste is musky, slightly salty, yet not unpleasant.

“Bloody hell,” she hears Billy say under his breath as his hips buck instinctively, pushing more of himself into her mouth. She sputters as he hits the back of her throat and he pulls away, uttering repeated apologies. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, no one’s ever done this to me before. Are you alright?”

Though her eyes have begun to water, her heart swells at his admission, and she’s comforted knowing he is every bit as much a novice as she is. She nods, composing herself, before grasping the base of him. “I want to keep going.”

This time, as her mouth envelopes him, Billy keeps still, fisting the sheets either side of him, as she bobs her head, working her mouth up and down his length, watching the obscene red smear that her lips leave behind. Kate’s instructions play on a loop in her mind, and she strokes what won’t fit in her mouth in time with her movements, hollowing her cheeks.

Billy’s pants grow more desperate as he whispers curses, his brow furrowed as he teeters on the edge of climax. She can feel him beginning to twitch, the way his thighs tense.

“Stop, stop, stop, I’m gonna— FUCK!” he cries out.

She pulls off him, continuing to stroke him as she watches spurts of his thick, white release coat her knuckles and his lower abdomen. She lets go, wiping her hand on the bedsheet, when he finally stills, having spent himself.

“How was that?” She asks with a coy smile as she watches him lay there and gasp for breath.

“I think you killed me,” he says, voice hoarse. When he finally lifts his head from the pillow, a dopey grin spreads across his face. “Can I kiss you now? Your lipstick’s all ruined anyway.”

She giggles, imagining what a mess she must look like right now, but knowing there’s nothing she wants more.

Part one | Series masterlist

[ohmystaxk]

For there is beauty | Chapter Two: Progress takes time

[MASTERLIST] | [CHAPTER 1] | [NEXT]

Tags/Warnings: No Viktor in this chapter, Academy burnout, Jayce taking care of Reader, Jayce is so touchy, Cait and Reader being girls (I love my babies, your honor!!), Accidental fake dating, Accidental flashing, Not Beta Read.

Summary: After meeting Viktor at the library, it was time to head back to Jayce and Cait. Another day in your routine, just like any other, except you started feeling the effects of burnout after months of working hard.

Suddenly, Cait asks a question that makes you answer in a very shocking way. Why did the girl have to be so curious?

I have created playlists that I encourage you to listen to while reading (spotify, yt music and apple music) this fic!

spotify yt music apple music

Tracklist:

1. Vienna by Billy Joel 2. Matilda by Harry Styles 3. Birds of a feather by Billie Eilish

You knocked on the door three times. The books were still in your hands as you heard footsteps approaching from the other side. The door slowly opened, and in front of you stood Jayce as he looked behind him. His cologne was the first thing you noticed, perhaps it had been the sudden start to your day, but you did not remembered him wearing that cologne. He finally turned his head your way.

“There should be a pencil there somewhere.” He spoke to who you could only assumed to be Cait. His eyes met yours, and his teeth flashed as he smiled. You always liked the tooth gap on his front teeth, and you especially liked how sharp his canines looked. “Hey, you’re back!”

“Told you I wouldn’t take long.” You shrugged, tilting your head to the side waiting for him to let you in.

Jayce nodded, he leaned over and took your books from your hands. “Come in, eat your food before it gets cold.”

He smelled like bergamot, with a hint of rosemary and cedarwood.

“Are you wearing the cologne I gifted you?” you asked with a grin. To that, the man nodded with a frown.

“Yeah. I ran out of mine.” Jayce opened the door wider, giving you space to walk in. “You have good taste.” He kicked the door closed behind him.

“When do I not?”Jayce laughed as he trailed right behind you.

You reached your workbench and sat down on the stool. He put down the stack of books on the table.

When you placed down your bag, you started fishing for your notebook. The man turned around and headed towards Cait, the girl had sat down on a stool next to Jayce’s workbench, taking a bite from her food as she seemed to write things down on a piece of paper.

“So, Cait.” You started, placing down your notebook and a pile of your research notes on the table; your pencil had been the last thing. “No strange women today?” You could not help the grin that appeared on your lips.

“Nothing to report.” She said once she finished her bite.

“Good.” You nodded with a smile when Jayce narrowed his eyes at you.

“Well, except that he didn’t get a discount this time.” Cait leaned over the bench, writing some more.

“Oh, really?” You opened your notebook, flipping through the pages.

“The lady at the counter was not there today.” Cait then took another bite.

“She was sick,” Jayce explained and grabbed his food, as well as yours, and walked to you. “So, the older lady was in today.”

“What a shame, could’ve tried charming her pants off to save yourself a pretty coin.” You reached for the book on top of the stack, but Jayce placed the food in front of you and pushed the stack away from your reach.

“A bit more decorum, please.” Jayce tilted his head towards Cait. You raised your hands and smiled at him with tight lips, guilt on your features.

“My bad.” You said, crossing your leg on top of your thigh, and putting your hands down to fix the wrinkles on your skirt.

Jayce’s eyes followed your movements and then quickly shifted back to your food.

“Please eat before it gets colder.”

With full stomaches, the three of you began working. You and Jayce talked, and he would write on the chalkboard as you looked at the notes you wrote the day before. During that time, Cait would work on her homework, sometimes speaking up to ask for some help here and there. It was a routine, one that worked so well between the three of you. Jayce would sit down once in a while, his back to the bench as he leaned back, his elbows on the surface. You would stand up and pace around the room with your notebook in hand and your pencil tapping your forehead. Then the words began to look foreign as you tried to read them again, and again. You sighed heavily, turning around too quickly and tossing your notebook and pencil harshly on your workbench.

You walked to the glass door of the balcony, opening the doors, and going to lean over the railing. At this point, sunset was beginning to set. Time always went by faster when working on Jayce’s project. The complexity caused your brain to shut off the outside world. You decided it was best to simply take a break out there, the fresh air hugging your lungs so well.

Then you glanced to the horizon, from where you stood you could see parts of Zaun. A chill went up your spine, you could hear your father’s voice in the back of your mind. ‘ We have to work five times harder than they do. We have to show them who we are.’

A hand came to your lower back, you felt another shiver as you felt fingers trailing up to rest between your shoulder blades.

“You doing okay?” Jayce leaned his arm against the railing, leaning close to you.

You let out a sigh.  Closing your eyes tightly.

“It still feels surreal.” You let your head hang low.

“What does?” Jayce’s hand went down to your lower back, staying there as he leaned over even more.

“Making it out.” You said, the words tasted wrong in your mouth. “I know how much my parents have worked to give me a good life, one better than the one they had in Zaun.”

Your mind brought you back to when you were only eight, hiding behind the door of your bedroom as you heard your father talk with someone.

“Do you think this is easy? Do you think I am not scared ?” Your father spoke, hand slamming against the old dining table . “I have a wife and daughter to take care of, my priority is them. I care about this place! But I will not put them at stake here, I was given an opportunity, so I will take it.”

There was silence, a deafening one as you heard your father’s heavy breathing. Followed by a heavy sigh.

“I know.” The voice came from another man, you don’t remember his name anymore.

“I am tired of working in the mines, V. I am tired of coming home and barely being able to make ends meet with the poor fucking excuse of a payment I receive. Zoila is growing sick, I need to get them out of here.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“I don’t want to disappoint them.” You whisper, holding the rail tightly with your hands.

“You don’t,” Jayce says back softly, his hand traveling to your right shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “They know how hard you work, just how much you put into your studies.”

“I have worked on this for months, Jayce.” You turn to meet his eyes, and you want to look away. He looks deep into yours, he shows a softness and worry in them. “The words are all meshing together, they don’t even make sense.”

“You have to remember why you are doing this. Progress takes time.” He smiles gently at you, giving you a small shove.

You notice the sun starting to set, the golden glow making his skin vibrant. His eyes are even lighter, they shine like honey as they stare back at you. You can’t help when your eyes fall on his lips, a nice plumpness to them. You force yourself to glance back at him, but his eyes seem a bit darker now.

“I’m heading home!” Cait’s voice breaks you out of Jayce’s hold. You turn to look at the girl as she looks up from her spot, her eyes widening a bit. “It’s getting late.” She points out.

“I’ll walk you home.” You say, turning around and heading back inside. “I will work on this tomorrow.”

“I will take her home. Is closer to my place.” Jayce spoke from behind you.

“I want her to take me.” Cait put her bag across her chest, and her bright blue eyes stared at you. “If that is okay?”

Jayce stopped next to you. He looked at the girl before looking at you, he placed both hands on his hips.

“Sure can, Cait.” You said with a smile. You started grabbing your bag and putting everything you needed back inside. “I will probably stop by my parents’ on the way back.”

When you finally had everything ready, you turned around, bumping into Jayce.

“Don’t get home too late, alright?” You said, and took a step to the side, but he was just looking at you, his head tilted to the side. You frowned, narrowing your eyes as his eyes softened a bit. Oh, of course . “You are impossible, Talis.” 

You rolled your eyes before you stepped on your toes and leaned forward, placing a hand on his chest for support. You could see a smile forming on his lips as you placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

“That’s better, doll.” He placed a kiss on your cheek. “Say hi to your mom for me.”

You slapped his chest and stepped back. It had become a habit of his since he was fourteen, to kiss your cheek goodbye. ‘ My mom told me it’s polite .’ He had told you that it was something older people did when greeting or when leaving where his mother was from. And it is something he always did from then on.

“Tomorrow around the same time?” You walked past him.

“Yeah, I will pick you up. Will you stay over at your parents?”

“Yeah.”

Cait and you were not far from her home, the two of you talked the whole way there. You asked her about school and how that was going. She asked you about your research and noticed how stressed you looked back in the workshop. You joked with her, and you even stopped on the way to grab pastries for the two of you. Caitlyn liked being around Jayce, and so did you, but even you were aware of how nice it was to just be around her. Just two girls talking about everything and nothing at all. She was smart, witty, and always so curious. And for her, it was nice to just be able to ask you about things only you understood.

“Oh! And you should have seen her face when I shot right in the center.” She smiled big, her eyes widening as she spoke. “The target was so far, and I still hit it .”

“That’s great!” You shoved her playfully, smiling wide as you could not help but laugh at her enthusiasm. “I told you, no one will be able to mess with you.”

“Thanks,” She took a bite from her pastry.

“So, when do you have your next lesson?” You took the last bite from yours.

“Next week.” She cleaned her lips with a napkin.

“Well, you have to tell me how that goes.” When you said that, she nodded, but not before she went quiet.

Cait looked at you, then looked away. She held her pastry closer to herself.

“Is something wrong?” Your voice softened, frowning as you leaned down a bit to catch her face. “You can tell me, you know?”

“How come-.” She paused, looking your way this time. “How come you and Jayce are not together?” Her question made your brain go blank.

You stopped in your tracks.

“What?” You laughed in confusion.

“I mean, you two are always together. As friends . But, you like him, don’t you?” The question finally settled, and your heart started beating fast as you felt heat rush to your face.

“A-are you pulling my leg?” Another laugh escaped you. “Real funny, Cait.”

“No, I mean…Jayce always talks about you, all the time . And when it’s just you and me, you also talk a lot about him.” She explained.

“That’s because we care about each other. Friends talk about one another.” You walked to the trash can near you, and dumped your napkin.

“Do you talk about me?” You suddenly choked on your spit.

“W-we do…” She narrowed her eyes at you. “Okay, you got me there. But Jayce and I are just friends , we have known each other for years now. And yes, we are always around the other, but it’s because we are lab partners, we work together.”

“He is always a little too close to you.” She grimaced at the words.

“That’s how Jayce is, he is just a big…physical-touch type of person. Me, on the other hand, not so much. But he is always so…touchy?”

“Three ‘buts’ so far,” She took another bite and placed a hand on her hip. “I saw you two at the balcony, that seemed pretty close.”

“He was trying to comfort me. Listen, Cait. You have not seen Jayce when he actually likes someone. He is all smiles and compliments, he uses every charm in the book. He gives them this…stupid smile that shows his teeth, and he laughs as he tilts his head while he gives them the eyes -.”

“The eyes?” She frowned with confusion.

“Don’t worry about that.” You quickly realized where you were heading. “I don’t like Jayce. And he doesn’t like me, we are friends.”

“Well, it sounds to me like you do.” She shrugged with a sly smile.

You rolled your eyes, more heat on your face this time.

“Let’s get you home before your mom gets someone to come looking for you.” You looked away as you started walking again. Then you heard a gasp, you turned to look at Cait.

“You do like him!” She said a little too loud for your liking, pointing a finger at you. You quickly signaled her to keep quiet.

“No, I do not.” You shook your head.

“Yes, you do! For how long?” She ran to the trash can and threw her pastry away.

“Okay, I am going to keep walking.” You heard Cait quickly sprint your way.

“Why are you trying to avoid my question?” She frowned. “He likes you, I can tell.”

You sighed heavily and brought a hand to your face.

“I don’t like Jayce.” You felt your heart throb painfully as you said that.

“Why not?” She walked in front of you, turning to face you as she walked backward. “It’s not like you are not always jeal-.”

“Because I already have a partner!” You blurted out, both of you stopping in your tracks. The two of you stared at each other in shock.

“What!?” She frowned as she stared at you in utter confusion.

“Huh?”

“D-does Jayce know?” Her voice lowered, leaning forward as if the conversation was now a secret.

“N-no, he doesn’t and you can’t tell him, alright?” You pointed at her.

Why does she have to be so curious?

“Why not?” She crossed her arms at you.

“B-because…” Fuck, why would Jayce not know? You wanted to hit your head against a wall. “Because you know how he is.” Great work, genius.

“Which is?” She narrowed her eyes, arms still crossed.

“He is protective, he will want to know them, maybe even test them or something.” You wanted to keep walking, to get back to your parents’ house and fall face-first on the couch.

“Who is it?” Cait asked, and you should have known she would. “I won’t tell him. I promise.”

You knew people, you had a couple of friends from the Academy. But you were sure Cait knew most of them from when she would tag along with you and Jayce at the Academy, it had to be someone she didn’t know. You tried to think, of someone, just anyone. Then there it was, your mind flashed you those amber eyes you would see during lectures, of that pretty shade of brown hair, and of the two moles adorning his face.

“Viktor.” You said, feeling proud of yourself for quickly coming up with a name.

“Counselor Heimendinger’s assistant?” As soon as she said that, you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

“You know him?” You felt the heat from your face completely leave. “H-how?”

“I have seen him whenever I go with my mother to some meetings.” She scratched the back of her head, head tilted to the side as she raised an eyebrow. “Is he not…a bit too quiet?”

“Just a little, but he is nice.” You shrugged, a guilty smile on your face. Please forgive me, Viktor. “But, you can’t tell Jayce! O-or mention me to Viktor.”

“Well, I don’t talk to Viktor. But, why should I not mention you?” This time you started walking, and Cait followed you immediately.

“I will tell you later, let’s just get you home.”

When you woke up the next morning, you almost forgot you were not in your apartment. The old bed creaked as you stretched out your limbs, the springs digging into your ribs. You sat down on the bed, your old room was still how you left it when you moved out. Old posters of science fairs, drawings, and paintings you and your mother made together. On your nightstand sat two picture frames, one of you and your parents when you were about fifteen. The other was of Jayce with an arm wrapped around your shoulders, both of you with big smiles as you held a science fair award; you were sixteen, and was Jayce seventeen. You kept forgetting to take them with you.

You stood from your bed, your mother’s night dress falling down your thighs. You walked out of your room, the smell of food overtaking your lungs, making your stomach growl. You turned the corner to the kitchen and immediately paused. Seated at your kitchen table was Jayce, a cup of what you knew to be coffee in his hand. Your mother was at the stove, she laughed as Jayce said something to her. You normally did not care about what you looked like in the morning, Jayce was used to seeing you in your nightwear, but your mother was a different story. The nightgown was long, but not too much, it was loose, but the color was off-white, and it was too thin for your liking. It was the first thing your mom had pulled out of the drawer, you were just supposed to sleep with it. You took a step back; you still had time to go and change.

Then the wood floor creaked under the weight. And Jayce turned to look your way, a smile on his face.

“Hey, you are finally awake.” He looked back towards your mom, but not for long. His eyes flicked a little too quickly towards you.

Don’t say anything. You mouthed at him, widening your eyes while you pointed at him.

Jayce cleared his throat, his eyes falling on the nightgown. You knew he would not shut up about it, and would probably tease you later. It was your mom’s fault for not simply giving you a shirt and pants, or at least something of your dad. Well, no, you should have just dressed up before coming out here.

“Good morning, baby. You woke up right on time.” Your mom was still facing the stove. “Jayce here was telling me about the progress on the Jet Tech.” She waved the wooden spoon around, and some liquid flew in the air.

“Hextech, mom.” You sighed. “Good morning.” You looked back at Jayce and to your surprise, he was still looking at you, but when he realized you saw him. He cleared his throat again, focusing his attention on his coffee.

“How about you take a seat and I can-.” Your mom cut herself off, you looked at her and watched as her eyes were wide, quickly making her way to you. “Actually! Help me with something.”

You frowned as your mom grabbed you by your shoulders, turning you around and making the two of you walk back toward your room.

“What do you need-.”

“Baby, the dress is a bit too see-through.” She whispered to you, and you immediately felt your face grow hot.

“What!?” You choked out, trying to look behind you, but Jayce was downing his coffee.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t notice which one I gave you.” You hurried to your room, swinging the door open and going straight to the mirror.

“Is this even meant for sleeping?” You spoke with horror as you noticed how sheer the dress was.

“Well…” Your mom leaned over the door frame, also looking at your reflection.

“I don’t want to know.” You hid your face in the palms of your hands.

“I will go and serve you both some breakfast.” She closed the door behind her.

It was no wonder Jayce was staring, even with the loose fabric, you were able to see underneath it. With dark lighting, it looked normal and modest. Just, not with the sunlight coming from the kitchen. You had practically flashed Jayce on a random morning, at your parents' house. You groaned into your hands.

What a way to start the day.

Taglist: @mommymilkers0526 @crvcified-kinx @night-fall-moon

Want to be tagged when a new chapter drops? Tag yourself!

[yoonia]

— Dia’s tumblr wrapped 2024 

I know it’s super late for me to share this, but just as many would say, it’s better late than never. Thank you so much for the lovely people who tagged me to do this: @beomcoups, @shadowkoo, @kingofbodyrolls ♡

2024 started off smoothly…until it didn’t. The final quarter of the year has always been a hard time for me and it wasn’t that much different this year. As you can probably notice that I’ve been mostly absent ever since the end of October and I deeply apologise for that. I also regret not planning things properly and for not keeping up with my goals this year but that only means that I'll be dragging my WIP list towards the next year.

Thank you so much for everyone who has been there for me this year, and those of you who have stuck by me despite my inconsistencies. I really appreciate your presence on my blog, whether it’s through your likes and kudos, your reblogs, your comments and replies on my contents, and the kind words you sent me through my ask box. You guys have made it worthwhile for me to be here even after all these years, and I don’t think I can thank you enough for that. Here’s to mark the end of our wild journey through 2024 and enter the new year of 2025. 

OVERALL FIC STATS 2024

Number of fics posted: 4 (four) one-shots, 2 (two) ongoing series, 3 (three) ficlets

Number of fics revamped: 2 (two) completed fics, 2 (two) ongoing series

Number of words written: 448,057 words (dang, no wonder I felt so burned out lol)

Number of fics in progress: 32 (oh, boy…) 

FIRST FIC OF 2024

❥ A Christmas Fix 01 & 02 —  posted Jan 31st & Feb 1st | 1,926 & 1,226 notes

My thoughts: This was…quite a journey. It’s been a while since I wrote a rom-com story and I was pleased to have been given the chance to write this idea through a collab. The final outcome wasn’t too disappointing either, since I enjoyed writing it and reading it afterwards. I’m glad everyone loved this story as well.

MOST POPULAR FIC OF 2024

❥ The Stand-In (Revamped version) — posted Aug 13th | 4,267 notes

My thoughts: Okay, yeah…I cheated a little. But to be fair, this fic did get a lot of notes this year before and after the revamping process. I loved this story so much that I felt like it deserved a major makeover and I’m glad I managed to do it this year.

LONGEST FIC OF 2024

❥ The Bedroom Hymns — series, ongoing, last updated Sept 9th | 50k++ words | I’m too lazy to open each chapter to count the notes I’m so sorry lol

My thoughts: I know…I know, I need to update this one again. I had to take a break from this series because this fic literally became my main focus this year that a lot of my WIPs kept getting pushed back just so I could finish more of this. I had to stop at some point to finally set free my WIPs. I have to admit that I also lost my motivation to write this due to the lack of notes and responses that I got with each update no matter how much time I spent working on it (tacky, I know…but it is what it is). I still love and enjoy writing this, so more chapters are coming. I can see this fic becoming my main focus again in 2025 until I’m done with it.

LAST FIC OF 2024

❥ The Forsaken II: Tears of the Sea — posted Oct 24th | 712 notes

My thoughts: Holy hell…this fic. Who would’ve thought that I’d be revisiting siren!Taehyung this year after…3 years?? Thank you, whoever it was that sent this during my birthday event. I never expected to write a full fic for this to continue the original story and to answer a lot of your questions, but I’m glad I did! 

Honorable mention: 

❥ Our Imperfections — posted Oct 30th | 92 notes

My thoughts: This was the last thing I actually released before I dipped into the void but I couldn’t count this as a fic as this was considered a ficlet or, in a more common term, a drabble.

PERSONAL FAVOURITE FIC OF 2024

❥ Blooming Wallflowers — posted Sept 25th | 927 notes

My thoughts: I had one of those rare moments where I found myself enjoying the writing process of a story so much that things simply kept flowing until it became a full story. This one went twice the size planned (and commissioned) but I have no regrets. At all.

Honorable mention: 

❥ Maps (revamped version) — series, completed, posted Sept 6th, 7th, & 11th | 1,4k++ notes (again, I’m too lazy to open each chapter lol)

My thoughts: I initially planned to release something else for DPR Ian’s birthday this year. But then I started revamping the graphics for his old fics instead and decided to revamp the whole series while I had the chance. This one has always been my fave work that I wrote for Christian, so diving back into this to do a makeover and give it a major upgrade felt absolutely fulfilling. 

2024 SPECIAL EVENT

❥ 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖉𝖊: yoonia’s 2024 birthday bash

My thoughts: Once again, I can’t thank you guys enough for joining this small event of mine. I promise that I’ll have another event in 2025 so please stay tuned! (see you in March!) 

Fave reads of 2024

I have to admit that I haven’t been doing a lot of fic reading this year. But I’m happy that I got to dive back into reading some fanfics during my birthday event and found some lovely gems that I truly enjoyed

The Taste of Sin by @shadowkoo

Vignette: Duty by @cybrsan

The Athlete by @beomcoups

A Lover's Redemption by @writtenwhalien

Dandelion by @shina913

The Wood by @sailoryooons

Minted by @kithtaehyung

Mr. & Mrs. Yoon by @monamipencil

On The Ropes by @raplinesmoon

Top Ten Tracks of 2024

Loved — B.I

People — Agust D

Make You Mine — Black Violet

Gemini — Cheyenne 

Close To Me — Mamie, Eloy, Trippy Bass

HUH?! — Agust D feat. J-hope

Love — Lana Del Rey 

Reasons — COTIS 

Watch Me Burn — Michelle Morrone 

Die First — Nessa Barrett  

GOALS FOR 2025

Write more. Tackle more WIPs each month. 

Finally finish my old abandoned WIPs (About Time, Blood Moon Rising and the Shifters Series, Chance Encounter) 

Finish writing and officially release my original stories/novel as a web-series

Try to do better with planning and scheduling and keeping up with them

Finish revamping Carousel and release the novel version on Ream

Read more. Both published books and released fics

Focus more on my personal health, mental and physical 

Start job hunting again

I know I’m late for this, so I’m passing this over to the writers who are tagged on the list above (if you haven’t done this yet) and also tagging a few who come across my mind right now (only if you want to!): @ressjeon @lo1k-diamonds @pars-ley @minisugakoobies @inkedtae

And also tagging randomly anyone who feels inspired to create their own tumblr wrapped! 

[sherewrytes]

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 6

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Taglist: @for-hearthand-home@clp-84@thelightknight21@favvkiki  @helightknight21 @dylsw @ria-s-writes @sleepymothafterhours 

if you wanna be added to the tag list comment

Fic Playlist

Masterlist

Here is another chapter cause I'm still writing out the other fics right now :)

Previous

Chapter 6: The Weight of Loss

Y/N’s POV

It’s almost comical how different my life feels when I’m at school compared to when I’m at home. At Pratt, I’m a student, focused, and driven, with an entire future ahead of me. The campus is buzzing with the usual energy—students chatting, the sound of sketch pads flipping, the hum of distant studio lights. But the weight of everything outside these walls presses down on me more with each passing day.

It’s been weeks or days since the breakup with Sukuna.The loss of our relationship feels longer than the time we actually broke up but it feels like the echo of it still reverberates in everything I do. I’m trying to push forward, trying to act like I’m okay, but the reality is… I’m not. I haven’t been okay for a while.

The work in front of me should be enough to distract me. Finals are coming up, and my portfolio still feels like it needs a hundred more hours of attention before it’s anywhere near perfect. But I can’t stop my mind from drifting back to that night—his touch, his voice, the way he looked at me when he left, the pain in his eyes I couldn’t fix.

I sit in one of the studio rooms, surrounded by scraps of fabric and sketches, trying to focus on the design I need to complete for my final project. My hand trembles as I draw out another silhouette. It’s difficult to concentrate, especially when my phone buzzes on the table.

I don’t even need to look to know if it's from Utahime. She’s been checking in on me regularly. She doesn’t understand everything, but she knows enough to ask if I’m okay.

I pick up my phone, hesitating for a moment before responding. Yeah, I’m good. Just a lot of work to get through.

It’s a lie, but I don’t want to burden her with the truth. Everyone has their own problems, and I don’t want to be the one who drags them down.

I scroll through the texts, my heart dropping when I see a message from Toji. It’s just a short note, nothing particularly alarming. Sukuna's in the hospital. He’s okay, but he had a breakdown. You might want to check on him.

I read it three times before I let it sink in.

Sukuna’s in the hospital.

I bite my lip, the sting of old wounds coming back. What’s going on with him? Why does everything feel like it’s falling apart? I don’t even know how I feel anymore. I spent so much time loving him, fighting with him, then pushing him away, only for him to spiral deeper into whatever this is. And now, he’s in the hospital… alone?

I don’t even have the right to care, do I?

I put my phone down, my hands running through my hair as I try to make sense of it all. What should I do?

There’s a knock at the door, and I look up, startled. Utahime enters with a cup of coffee in her hand. She smiles when she sees me but then stops when she notices the look on my face. She doesn’t even need to ask.

“Something’s wrong,” she says gently, placing the coffee down in front of me.

I swallow hard, my throat dry. “Sukuna’s in the hospital,” I say quietly. The words feel so surreal coming out of my mouth.

Utahime doesn’t speak for a moment, just nods, as if she knew this might happen. “You’re thinking about going, aren’t you?” she asks, her voice soft.

I shake my head, my chest tightening. “I don’t even know what I’d say to him, Utahime. I—” I stop, the emotions threatening to spill over. “He played with my feelings, and I let him. I gave him everything, and now... now look at us.”

She sits next to me, her presence comforting. “You don’t have to go to him if you’re not ready,” she says, her hand gently brushing mine. “But don’t ignore what your heart is telling you. Sometimes it’s easy to get lost in anger or pride, but if you care about him, and you think he needs you—maybe you should go. Just to know he’s okay.”

I stare at the coffee in front of me, the steam rising gently. I feel so torn. Part of me wants to throw it all away and run to him, to make things right, but the other part is terrified of what that would mean.

“I’m just… so tired, Utahime. Tired of trying to fix everything,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t think I can keep doing this. I don’t want to keep getting hurt.”

She leans back in her chair, giving me space. “You don’t have to fix him. You just have to decide what’s best for you. It’s okay to care about him, but it’s also okay to take a step back. You don’t owe him anything.”

I nod slowly, but the weight in my chest doesn’t lift. If anything, it feels heavier.

As much as I want to ignore the message, as much as I want to pretend everything’s fine and keep moving forward, I know deep down that the story isn’t finished yet. But the question is, how do I make peace with it? How do I let go of the part of me that still wants him in my life?

I guess I’m going to have to figure it out, even if it hurts.

I stare at the message from Toji, my thumb hovering over the reply button. I could feel the tension building in my chest, the pull to cave in and see him, to check on Sukuna, to offer whatever comfort I could. But I can’t. I won’t.

I text back quickly, trying to keep my answer as firm as possible, even though doubt gnaws at me. Yes. I’m sure.

I put my phone down and take another sip of the coffee Utahime bought for me. The warmth soothes me, but it’s not enough to quell the rising discomfort I feel. Maybe I’m running away from something I should confront, but every time I think about him—about everything that happened—my chest tightens. I know I’m not ready to face him.

Mei Mei sits beside me, her usual confident and laid-back demeanor a welcome distraction. She smiles at me, her eyes bright despite the obvious tension in the air. “I heard you’ve been dealing with some drama,” she teases, nudging my shoulder playfully. “You always seem to attract it, huh?”

I laugh, but it’s hollow. “Yeah, it seems like it. Just trying to get through finals without any more drama.”

She leans back in her chair, clearly not convinced. “If you say so, but I’ve known you long enough to know when something’s bothering you.” She raises an eyebrow. “You’re not fooling anyone. What’s going on?”

I set the coffee down, rubbing my forehead. Mei Mei’s known me for years. She doesn’t give up easily, especially when it comes to stuff I’d rather keep to myself.

“It’s… complicated,” I say, sighing deeply. “Sukuna’s in the hospital.”

Mei Mei’s expression softens. “Hospital? What happened?”

I explain the basics—the fallout from our breakup, his breakdown, and the fact that it seems he’s been spiraling for months. As I talk, it feels like I’m peeling back a layer of myself I’ve been trying to keep hidden.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” I continued, my voice shaking slightly. “But now… I just feel like I made it worse.”

Mei Mei listens, her face serious. When I finish, she doesn’t say anything at first. She just looks at me for a long time, her eyes calculating, like she’s trying to figure something out.

“You can’t keep carrying his weight, Y/N,” she says gently, her tone softer than I expected. “He’s not your responsibility anymore. I get that you care, but sometimes stepping back is the healthiest thing you can do—for both of you.”

I nod, trying to hold it together, but her words sink deep into my chest. I know she’s right. If I keep going back to him, trying to fix things that aren’t mine to fix, I’ll just keep breaking myself in the process. But knowing that doesn’t make the choice any easier.

I reach for my phone again, checking for another message. There’s one from Toji.

Y/N, I know you’re upset. I get it. But you need to understand he’s really struggling. He’s not the same guy anymore. Please, just think about it. He’s not okay.

I feel the weight of the message, the silent plea in his words. It almost makes me want to go. But no. I made my decision.

I turn my phone face down, looking back at Mei Mei. “I’m done with it. I need to focus on my future. On me.”

She smiles, a little proud of me. “Good. It’s about time. You’re a strong woman, Y/N. Don’t forget that.”

I lean back in my chair, feeling the exhaustion from the last few months hit me all at once. Finals are coming, and I don’t have the luxury of letting my emotions run the show anymore. I have to finish this. For me.

But even as I sit there, I can’t ignore the small ache in my heart, the part of me that still cares, that wonders what could have been. For a fleeting moment, I let myself imagine a different reality, one where everything with Sukuna was easier, where we were happy and I didn’t have to make these impossible decisions.

But that’s not my reality. Not anymore.

Toji's POV

I stare at the screen of my phone, Y/N’s last text still lingering in front of me. Yes. I’m sure.

The words hit harder than I expected. I knew she wasn’t going to just drop everything and run to Sukuna, but hearing it from her directly… it stings. She’s shutting him out, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. Nothing any of us can do.

I glance over at Sukuna, still out cold in the hospital bed, his breathing steady for now. He’s been through hell these past few days, and I hate to admit it, but I’m worried. Despite all his bullshit, the bravado he puts up like a fucking wall, he’s broken. And it’s not just the aftermath of Jin’s death or the guilt he carries around like a fucking anchor. It’s more than that.

I thought, maybe if Y/N came, it would snap him back. But she’s not coming.

I let out a slow breath, running a hand through my hair. The room feels too quiet now, even with the constant beep of the heart monitor in the background. The silence between me and Sukuna is almost deafening, and I can’t shake the sense of impending disaster that hangs in the air.

I think about what Y/N said—how she couldn’t keep carrying his weight. And part of me gets it. She’s right. I told her before that Sukuna wasn’t the only one who needed to get his shit together, but I guess… I didn’t expect her to walk away. Not like this. Not after everything.

I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if we’d all handled this differently. If we had talked more, not let everything fester. Maybe she wouldn’t have had to make that decision. Maybe Sukuna wouldn’t be lying here, broken and lost. And I wouldn’t be standing here, feeling fucking useless.

Sukuna murmurs in his sleep, his hand twitching slightly, and I look back at him. He looks so different when he’s not putting on that mask. I can see the fear, the guilt, everything he hides away in his waking hours. It’s all on display when he’s vulnerable, like this.

He whispers something under his breath, and I lean in closer, straining to hear him.

“Y/N… I’m sorry…”

His voice cracks, soft and fragile. He doesn’t even know I’m here. Doesn’t know I’m watching him break down piece by piece. But I heard it. He said her name.

It’s fucking killing me to watch him like this.

I stand up, running my hand over my face, trying to shake off the weight of everything. I can’t do this. I can’t fix this. No matter how many times I try to tell myself that this is his fight, not mine, I can’t stop feeling like I’m responsible. We all are.

I check my phone again. Y/N hasn’t replied. I don’t expect her to. She’s made up her mind, and honestly, I don’t know what I would say if she did respond.

All I can do is sit here and wait, hoping that Sukuna pulls himself out of this hole he’s dug. He’s going to need all the help he can get, but I’m not sure I can even be that for him anymore.

I glance back at him one last time before walking out of the room. Whatever happens next is out of our hands. I just hope for his sake, he’s not too far gone to fix it.

I step out of the room, needing some space to breathe, even though the weight of everything is still pressing down on me. My phone buzzes again. Another message from Y/N. I don’t look at it. I can’t. Not right now.

The hallway feels emptier than usual, and I’m just about to sit down when I hear footsteps approaching. I glance up, already knowing who it is before I see their faces. Gojo’s impossible to miss, his presence like a fucking storm in the calm. And right behind him, Geto, walking with that same quiet intensity he always carries. They're holding bags in each hand, the smell of fast food wafting into the air.

Gojo gives me a lazy grin like he's just come back from a fun afternoon instead of dealing with a pile of shit that’s only getting worse.

“Got you something.” He waves the KFC sandwich in the air, the crispy fried chicken peeking out from the wrapper. “Figured you could use something real to eat. You’ve been looking like you’ve been living off hospital snacks.”

I glance at him, but I’m not in the mood for a joke. I just stare at the sandwich for a second before nodding. “Thanks.”

Geto just raises an eyebrow and slides a bottle of cold Coca-Cola into my hand. "It’s cold. Thought you could use a little sweetness with all this shit."

I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I take the sandwich, unwrap it, and take a small bite. The taste is oddly comforting, and for a moment, it feels a little bit of normal. But only for a second. My mind is still a million miles away, locked on Sukuna, on Y/N, on everything that’s been happening. I can’t seem to get a grip.

Gojo leans against the wall casually, clearly unaffected by anything going on, while Geto remains quiet, eyes focused like he’s waiting for me to crack. The silence stretches, uncomfortable in its own way.

"Is he awake?" Gojo asks, breaking the tension, his voice light but his eyes searching mine for an answer.

I take another bite of the sandwich and sigh, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "Yeah, but he’s not really there. Talking in his sleep… saying her name. Y/N."

The mention of her name hangs in the air for a moment, and I watch as Gojo’s expression shifts slightly. He doesn’t show it often, but I know he can’t be completely oblivious to what’s happening. Not with how tightly he and Sukuna have been bound, even when things were rough.

“I’m sure he’s just… in his head,” Gojo says after a pause, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly struggling with his own thoughts. “He’s got a lot of shit on his plate.”

Geto’s expression hardens slightly. “He’s not the only one, Gojo. Y/N’s been through her own hell. She’s not just some side character in his story. It’s never been that simple.”

“Yeah, I know,” Gojo mutters, though he doesn’t seem entirely convinced by Geto’s words. He glances back at the door where Sukuna lies, still deep in his own turmoil. “We all know what happened between them. It’s fucked up, but that doesn’t change what he’s going through.”

The words cut through the tension like a blade. I swallow the rest of the sandwich, my stomach growing heavier with the implications of their statements. The more I think about it, the more it feels like we’ve all fucked up in our own ways. We’ve all allowed this to spiral out of control, and now, we’re left picking up the pieces.

“I get that he’s hurting,” I say, voice tight, “but what do we do now? What can we even do? She’s not coming, Gojo. She’s done.”

The words feel bitter in my mouth, even though I know they’re true. Sukuna has lost her, and there’s no going back.

Gojo and Geto exchange a look, the silence dragging on as the weight of the situation settles in. Gojo pops the cap off his own bottle of Coke, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“You just keep pushing forward,” Gojo says after a moment. “You don’t get to wallow in this shit. That’s not how it works, Toji. You just keep moving forward. That's all you can do.”

I’m about to respond when I hear a low murmur coming from Sukuna’s room. The door creaks open slightly, and I glance toward it, the worry clawing at my insides again. Gojo stands up and gives me a pointed look.

“Let’s go see how he’s doing,” he says, voice more serious now, and I can hear the weight of his words.

We all walk to the room, our steps heavy with the unspoken truths we’ve been avoiding. Inside, Sukuna stirs in the bed, his eyes barely open but wide enough to see the panic in his gaze.

“Y/N,” he whispers, almost like a prayer, his hand gripping the bed sheets tightly.

The room feels cold as we stand there, watching him struggle with the demons only he knows. His words hang in the air like a knife, cutting through the silence.

“Maybe we can fix this,” Gojo mutters softly, more to himself than anyone else. "But not like this."

I watch Sukuna’s face, the same man who used to be full of fire and rage, now broken. Maybe Gojo’s right—maybe we keep pushing forward. But even I know, with everything that’s happened, there’s no easy fix to the mess we’ve created.

Sukuna's POV

I’m trapped in the in-between, stuck in the land of the awake but not living. I can hear them talking, but my mind refuses to connect. Every word that escapes their lips feels like a blur, and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear about Y/N or Jin or my own damn self.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor is the only thing grounding me in reality, reminding me that I'm still here, still breathing, even if it feels like everything else is slipping through my fingers. The voices swirl around me, but none of them cut through the fog in my mind. Not even Gojo’s voice, not even Geto’s.

Y/N. 

Her name lingers in the air like an echo I can’t escape. It’s all I can think about. How I fucked things up. How I hurt her. How I lost her. I can’t get away from the image of her, standing there in her apartment, looking at me with those eyes—those brown eyes I used to drown in. Eyes that no longer saw me the same. Eyes that were filled with pain.

My stomach churns. I want to scream, but the words catch in my throat.

My younger brothers.

Yuuji. Choso.

I’m supposed to be their older brother. I’m supposed to be strong for them. They’ve lost so much already, and I can’t afford to lose them, too. But if I keep spiraling like this—if I let this guilt eat me alive, if I let my demons drag me under—then what happens to them? What happened to me?

I’m supposed to protect them, but I’m barely holding myself together. I can’t keep breaking like this. I can’t keep letting everything fall apart just because I don’t know how to deal with the shit that’s happened.

I’m supposed to be better. Better for them.

But how? How do I fix this? How do I fix myself when everything feels broken beyond repair?

I hear Gojo again, his voice louder this time. "He's just... lost in his head right now. We can't help him until he helps himself." It’s all I need to hear to understand that I’m not getting any sympathy here. Not from any of them. They know me too well.

And maybe that's what I need.

I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to block out the pain. Maybe if I don’t open them, I won’t have to face the reality of what I’ve become. A broken man. A fuck-up.

But the truth is, I can’t run forever. I can’t stay in this fog of regret and self-loathing. I don’t want to be this version of myself. Not for my brothers, not for anyone. I’ve been here too many times before. Spiraling, falling, too afraid to face what’s staring me in the face. I’ve always been this way. But I can’t afford to be anymore.

I can’t let myself be the reason they lose me. Not when I still have a chance to fix it.

I hear Geto’s voice again, softer this time. "Sukuna... we’re here. But you need to come back. Come back to us." His words hit me harder than I expected, and I feel the weight of them pressing down on my chest. Come back to us.

I’m not sure how, but for the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself feel something other than numbness. A crack in the wall I’ve built around myself. A tiny opening to a possibility that maybe—just maybe—I can still get out of this.

But first, I have to face the one thing I’ve been running from.

I have to face myself.

“Y/N,” I whisper to no one in particular, my voice hoarse, rough. "I'm sorry."

I don’t expect anyone to hear it. Hell, I’m not even sure I believe it yet. But it’s the first step. And for now, that’s all I can give.

I open my eyes slowly, squinting at the harsh fluorescent lights above. The hospital room is sterile and unfamiliar, and for a second, I forget where I am. But then it all comes flooding back—the weight of my actions, the destruction I’ve left in my wake, and the realization that I can’t keep hiding from it.

I don't even remember when I said it, but those two words still echo in my mind: I'm sorry. They were the first words I’ve said aloud in what feels like forever, but they carry so much weight. So much guilt.

I sit up slowly, feeling the ache in my chest. I’m not sure if it’s from the panic attack, the guilt, or just the overwhelming sense of being broken. But whatever it is, it makes it hard to breathe, to think. To feel.

Gojo is still here, his presence just as obnoxious as ever. But there's something about him being here that gives me a sense of stability like maybe he doesn’t expect me to be perfect, but he’s still here, regardless. And Geto... Geto is just sitting there, staring at me like he’s waiting for me to get my shit together. Maybe he’s right. Maybe they both are.

“Fuck,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "How did I get here?"

Geto looks up from his phone, catching my eye for the first time in what feels like forever. “You’ve been here, Sukuna. You know the drill. You need to pull yourself together, for them.” His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it. He’s tired, I can tell. We all are.

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice cracking. "For them."

It’s a mantra I’ve been repeating to myself for weeks now—for them. For Yuuji and Choso. They’ve lost so much already, and I can’t be the one to break.

But I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know how to fix this. How do I rebuild what I’ve destroyed? How do I fix myself when I’m not even sure who I am anymore?

Gojo leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You’re not alone in this, you know.” His words are blunt, but there’s something softer in his eyes. He doesn’t say it often, but I can see it. The understanding.

"I know." I don’t meet his gaze, my eyes locked on the floor. It’s easier that way. “But I still fucked up, Gojo. I messed it all up.”

Geto sighs heavily, shaking his head. "You didn't just mess it up. But that doesn't mean it’s over. You’ve got to take responsibility for it, man. For her... and yourself."

For a moment, I don’t know what to say. The words feel like they’re stuck in my throat. But then I think of Y/N. Her face, her eyes... the way she looked at me when I ruined everything. I see her pain in every single interaction we had before it all came crashing down. I can still feel it. The way she’d retreat from me, the way she’d pull away. And the way I never truly let her in.

"I didn’t mean for it to go like this," I finally whispered. "I never meant to hurt her."

“You need to talk to her, if she’ll allow it” Geto says, standing up and moving closer. “And if she’s willing, maybe... maybe you can fix it. But you have to start with yourself first.”

I feel the weight of his words, like he’s trying to lift me out of the quicksand I’ve been sinking into. But I’m stuck. I’m stuck in the guilt, in the shame, in the regret.

“What if she doesn’t want me back?” I ask, barely above a whisper. "What if I’ve already ruined it too much?"

"You won’t know unless you try," Gojo says, stepping forward. “You can’t undo the past, but you can at least try to make the future better. For her. For you.”

I feel something shift inside me, something small but significant. Maybe it’s hope. Maybe it’s just the desperation that’s been eating away at me. I don’t know. But it’s there, and for the first time, I let myself feel it.

Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe, just maybe, I can start rebuilding—starting with myself. I have to try. For Y/N. For Yuuji. For Choso. For me.

I stand up, feeling the weight of my body shift. My legs feel weak, but I force myself to stay upright. Geto watches me carefully as if waiting for me to collapse, but I don’t. Not this time.

I might not have all the answers, but I know one thing for sure.

I’m done running from it.

“I’ll fix it,” I murmur, barely believing the words myself. But I have to say it. I have to believe it.

For the first time in a long while, I don’t feel so alone. Maybe I’m not as far gone as I thought. Maybe I can still fight my way back from this.

Maybe I can still be the man I used to be.

the nurse filled in, "We tried to contact your emergency contact yn ln but they didnt respond. Do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you?

The nurse’s words hang in the air, thick with unspoken tension. I feel the room grow heavier as they linger, and I find myself grasping for a response. Y/N’s name still feels like a foreign sound on my lips.

I open my mouth to speak, but the words don’t come. What would I even say? She won’t answer me anymore. Not after what I did. The silence stretches between us, suffocating.

"I have—" I start, but the weight of it stops me.

Before I can finish the sentence, Toji speaks up, his voice cutting through the thick air like a knife.

"You can take my information. What do I need to know?"

I look up at him, and for the first time in what feels like days, I feel a bit of relief. Toji, as blunt as he is, never lets me down. He’s been here since the start, and I know, deep down, he’s always had my back, even when I didn’t deserve it.

The nurse nods, taking out her tablet and entering Toji’s information with practiced ease. It’s almost like they’ve done this a thousand times before, and maybe they have. Maybe they’re used to people like me. People who screw up their lives and end up here, needing a reminder that they’re not completely gone yet. That there's still a chance.

But I don’t know if I believe that.

I watch the nurse leave, and the silence settles back into the room like a heavy blanket. Toji stands there, looking at me with something between concern and resignation. He doesn’t need to say anything. I know exactly what he’s thinking.

"Stop blaming yourself," Toji finally says, his voice low, but firm. “You're not in this mess alone, and you’re not gonna fix it overnight. But you’ve gotta stop running from it, or you'll end up buried.”

I can feel his eyes on me, watching for any sign of weakness, but I can’t give him that. I can’t give anyone that. Not after everything.

"I know," I mutter, my voice barely audible.

Toji shrugs and moves to the side, making space in the small hospital room. "We all fucked up, Sukuna. But it’s not the end of the world. You’re still here."

The words settle somewhere deep inside me, somewhere I didn’t even know was still capable of feeling something. I look away, pretending the words don’t hit me the way they do.

But I can’t stop thinking about Y/N.

Her face. Her eyes. How she would look at me when I failed her. The way she pulled away.

I failed her.

But I still want to fix it. God, I want to fix it so badly that it hurts.

I’m not sure how I’m supposed to do that. I’m not sure if it’s even possible. But for the first time in months, I feel like I can try. I have to try.

For me. For her. For everyone I’ve hurt.

“Thanks,” I say to Toji, my voice gruff and unsteady. "For doing this... for me."

He doesn’t respond right away, just gives me a sharp look like he’s waiting for me to crumble again.

But I don’t.

Not this time.

Instead, I stand up slowly, feeling the weight of my legs beneath me. There’s no escape now. No more running from my mistakes. No more hiding. I have to face this.

And maybe... just maybe, I can start with making things right.

For once, I don’t feel like I’m completely drowning. But the battle is far from over.

"I’ll make it right," I say softly to myself, more than to Toji.

The words feel fragile like I’m trying to piece together a shattered mirror. But I have to try.

I won’t be the man I used to be. I can’t go back to that.

But maybe, just maybe, I can be someone worth loving again.

For Y/N. For everyone I’ve hurt.

And for myself.

I’m finally being released from the hospital. The sterile white walls feel like they’re closing in as the nurses hand me a prescription for the medications I’m supposed to take. But I don't care about that right now. I just want to go home. I just want to breathe again.

The ride back to the apartment feels like it takes hours. The air in the car is heavy with the weight of everything I've done, everything I’ve messed up. I haven’t spoken a word the whole way. Toji’s driving, the only sound between us was the soft hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of the road beneath the tires.

When we get to the apartment, I’m not sure what to expect. The door’s wide open when I walk in, and there’s Choso, pacing back and forth. His voice rises, sharp and full of frustration as he glances over at me. His eyes are bloodshot like he hasn’t slept in days, and I know it’s because of me.

"Sukuna!" Choso shouts, throwing his hands up in the air, his face a mix of anger, pain, and worry. “What the hell were you thinking?! You scared the shit out of us, man!”

I flinch at his words, the sting of them going deeper than I want to admit. But I don’t say anything. I don’t have a defense, not for this. I can’t make it better with a few words. So, I stand there, silent, my head hanging low.

Yuuji’s sitting in the corner of the room, his eyes glued to the floor, his friends Megumi and Nobara beside him, looking as stressed as he is. The weight of it all crashes into me. I did this to them. I’ve been selfish, and it’s clear they’re carrying this burden with me.

Yuuji finally looks up, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm glad you're home, bro."

His words don’t hit me like I expect them to. Instead of feeling the relief I thought I’d get from hearing him, I just feel hollow. I’ve caused too much damage to fix it with just a few words. He shouldn't have to say that. I shouldn’t be the one causing him so much pain.

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” I mutter, the bitterness slipping out before I can stop it. "It’s not like I’ve been some fucking good example for you, right?"

Toji steps up beside me, his presence grounding. “That’s enough,” he says, his tone low but firm. “He’s home, and that’s what matters. Stop making this harder than it needs to be.”

Choso doesn’t let up though, his hands on his hips as he glares at me. "You’ve been running from everything, running from us, from yourself. We were worried you were gonna fucking end up dead, and now you’re back, but are you even gonna stay back?"

I want to answer him, to tell him that I’m trying, that I’m going to get better. But I know he won’t believe me. None of them will. Not after everything.

"Look," I say, my voice thick. "I’m sorry. I’ve fucked up, and I can’t fix everything in a day. But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere right now."

It’s all I can offer, and I know it’s not enough, but it’s all I’ve got. I can’t be the man I was before. I can’t just wipe away all the mistakes I made with a simple apology. But maybe I can try to be better.

Yuuji stands up slowly and walks over to me. I brace myself, waiting for him to yell, for him to say something harsh. But when he reaches me, he simply pats me on the back, like he’s trying to offer something I don’t deserve.

“It’s good to have you back, Sukuna,” Yuuji says quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat growing. I don’t know if I’m crying or not. But it sure feels like it. Maybe this is the first step in making things right. Maybe not for everyone, but for me, for Yuuji, for Choso... and Y/N.

The tears come without warning, falling like a flood. I feel them before I even know they’re coming, a warm rush down my face, blurring my vision. I can’t stop them. Not anymore. I’ve been holding everything in for so long, trying to keep the pieces of myself together, trying to be the strong one for my brothers. But I can’t do it anymore.

My knees give way, and I drop to the floor, the weight of everything—of all the things I’ve lost, of all the things I’ve fucked up—crushing me. My chest aches, tight, like it’s too small to hold all the guilt, all the pain.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter through gritted teeth, though I don’t know if I’m saying it to Choso or Yuuji or even myself. My voice cracks, the rawness of it is unfamiliar and painful. “Jin’s gone because of me... and Grandpa... he’s gone. They’re both gone.”

The tears come faster, like a storm I can’t outrun. I can’t hold it together anymore. Not for anyone. Not for them. Not for myself.

I hear Choso’s footsteps, feel his arms around me as he pulls me up, but I don’t want to be touched. Not right now. I want to crawl into a hole and disappear, to not have to face any of this, to not have to be the one who let them all down.

“Grandpa's funeral,” I whisper, my voice ragged. “Our parents didn’t even show up. They didn’t care. They never did.”

The words sting, but it’s the truth. The truth that I’ve been running from for years. Our parents left us. They abandoned us, and the only one who was there, who gave a shit, was Granpa. And now he’s gone, too.

“I’m tired of holding this in,” I choke out. “I can’t keep pretending to be the fucking strong one. I’m... not strong. I’m broken.”

I look up at Choso, and his face is pale, but his expression is gentle. I can see the hurt in his eyes, but there’s something else there too: understanding. He knows. He knows what it’s like to lose, to feel like you’re drowning in your own shit. And maybe he’s the only one who can truly get it.

I look over at Yuuji, and his face is full of concern. He’s standing in the corner of the room, silent, but I know the words are there, sitting heavy on his tongue. He doesn’t need to say anything, though. The fact that he’s here—just here—means more than words ever could.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” I say, my voice low and broken. “I don’t want to be like this anymore. I don’t want to let everyone down. I don’t want to keep losing people.”

But I’m scared. Scared of what it will take to fix all this. Scared of how much of myself I’ll have to break in the process.

“I’m so fucking tired,” I admit, my voice barely a whisper. 

Choso pulls me close, his hands gripping my shoulders as if he can somehow hold me together. “You don’t have to have it all figured out, Sukuna. We’re here. You’re not alone in this. You never were.”

His words hit me like a lifeline, but the truth is, I don’t know if I deserve it. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the person they want me to be.

But I know one thing: I can’t keep drowning in my own shit. I have to try to be better. Even if it’s just for a little while.

I’m home. But the journey to redemption? That’s just the beginning.

[bratbutcute]

A silent pact of silence

Hi! @theanonemu it is I, your secret Santa. I finally revealed myself to gift you… your gift.

Okay I’ll stop it ahah, I hope you have some free time because this fic got LONG.

Just a little reminder: English isn’t my first language, so you might find some grammar mistakes! If so please dm me or comment so I can fix them.

Now let’s dive right in.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Alastor/Lucifer

Prompts: Lovingly wrecking with gentle & light tickles; Character A unknowingly tickling character B who tries to suffer through it but eventually gives way and hijinx ensue;

Disclaimer: other than this is a tickle fic (obviously I’d say) there is nothing more to add to it.

Words count: 4524

Lucifer goes to the library to run away from his worries; he likes being alone there, until Alastor arrives to disrupt his peace. Will they listen to Charlie’s notes and become friends or will their rivalry prevail?

Happy late Christmas, Yule, Hanukkah, Solstice, Kwanzaa, and all the other celebrations happening during these days ❤️

(tagging here you amazing @squealing-santa, thank you so much for your patience and for your amazing organisation. This was my first year participating but I really loved having you as a host)

~~~

“Dear guests I hope you’ll like this library! Read as much as you like but don’t forget to make new friends! -Charlie”

Books or, to be more precise, reading books is something quite unusual in Hell.

Sinners usually enjoy other kinds of activities in their afterlives.

Lucifer has always loved them, since the moment humans came up with the idea of putting words onto paper he's been engrossed by the thought of carrying knowledge in the palm of your hand.

He has read thousands of books, written by humans on Earth - smuggled by those who could go there -, written by sinners in Hell, and he himself has written some of them. Charlie has always loved hearing her father interpret a story by doing different voices and shapeshift to fit the characters.

The Hotel had a rather big library, not the greatest, but it was still a work in progress. A few armchairs and couches were arranged in the center of the room, next to a coffee table with mugs and cute post-its with inspirational quotes on them.

These post-it were scattered everywhere, on the chairs, on the table, between the pages of the books. They were cheesy and sometimes did’t make sense, trying to encourage sinners to discuss about books and share their ideas. Lucifer couldn’t help but smile every time he saw one, thinking about his daughter and her good naive heart.

He found solace in that place.

He went there by chance once, after finding himself wandering around the Hotel trying to run away from the mean words screaming inside his head. After that it had quickly become an habit to go there during the night, past the time when Angeldust or Husker would still be awake, in that limbo halfway between the night and the morning, when the lights of Heaven were still not visible, but they started to peak between the clouds.

It was always quite when he went there.

No thoughts, no worries.

“When you’re feeling lonely, ask for a friend to join you! Having friends is fun! -Charlie”

Night after night Lucifer had been dragging himself into the library, reading books in silence to quite the thoughts screaming into his head. As a result he hadn’t slept in weeks, but on the bright side he also hadn’t had a nightmare in a long while.

Everything was perfect before his little ritual got ruined by none other than Alastor. That bitch.

Alastor was already there when Lucifer arrived. He was standing next to a shelf, hand ready to grab a book when their sights intertwined.

Everything felt static for a second.

Lucifer was about to ask him what the Hell was he doing there, but his mind was too clouded and words felt heavy on his chest. They just proceeded to ignore each other, much to his confusion: that demon was known for loving to mess with him. Why wouldn’t the dear say something?

But he didn’t dwell on it too much though, hoping this would be a once in a lifetime situation

Unfortunately for him he was quickly proven wrong.

The next day Alastor was there, a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, and so the following day and the one after.

Every single night Lucifer wanted a bit of peace, a place to recollect his thoughts, Alastor was there to ruin his evening.

He wouldn’t talk, but he would raise his eyebrows at every book Lucifer chose. He would turn his pages quicker than the king, creating an unspoken competition to finish first.

Lucifer came out of these nights even more exhausted than before, crashing onto the bed and waking up a few hours later, after a dreamless sleep.

“Good actions don’t need words! Try doing something good without taking the credit! -Charlie”

Lucifer had to admit something: having Alastor in the same room while dark thoughts stomped on his head was kind of therapeutic - although he would never say it to the other.

He always managed to distract him, even if it was with childish challenges and mischief, such as changing the place his current book was placed or steal the book the other wanted to read.

Words never left their mouths while they were there. They would stare at each other for a few seconds while entering the room, and then proceed to read in their designated spots: Lucifer on the couch, legs stretched on the coushions, his duck slippers on the floor next to him, and Alastor on the armchair, with his old school red nightclothes on and a tea cup in hand.

Lucifer started to think about those nights of theirs during his day, napping during the afternoon so he would be able to actually enjoy his silent time with the man.

Nothing had changed in front of Charlie or the Hotel crew. They would still bicker and fight like they hated each other, but he couldn’t help but thinking that he felt their arguments less animus than before. There were times he would find Alastor staring at him, his usual grin a bit softer on his lips.

He started looking forward to the night, feeling his heart pounding in his chest before opening the door of their secret place, hoping he wouldn’t be alone.

The reason was simple: he had spent the majority of his existence feeling alone, feeling casted out. The one who fell, the one who asked too many questions, the one who couldn’t handle a family. The one nobody really cared about and that frankly was had stopped caring.

But having someone share his worst moments with was… kind of comforting.

Then again, Alastor was still a peace of shit.

“When others choose to wrong you try confronting them with their actions! You might find that it was a misunderstanding! -Charlie”

It started after one of their fights during the day.

Lucifer wasn’t really sure what they were fighting about, but he could proudly remember how the argument ended: with him making fun of the deer. Angel had laughed, chanting a “Poor Bambi”, a nickname that was usually used by the former heavenly creature but was quickly catching up.

When Lucifer arrived at the library Alastor was already there - that wasn’t uncommon - but he wasn’t in his usual standing position, looking for a new book to devour in a few hours. This time he was in his armchair. Waiting.

Lucifer faltered before entering, a weird uneasy feeling slowly creeping behind his neck. He knew something was about to change.

He barely had time to pick a book and sit before shadows in the room started to morph, trembling and deforming the floor. The lights wobbled as if there was a earthquake (a hellquake?) and Lucifer would have probably screamed if only it hadn’t lasted more than just a few seconds.

Terrified and confused Lucifer stared at Alastor, forcing his mouth to remain shut, and found the sinner grinning ear to ear with pure amusement in his eyes.

As Lucifer started reading, one of those weird dark tentacles darted through the air right in front of the angel’s face, making him jump on the couch and drop his book. Needless to say Alastor was beaming in his place on the armchair. His stupid cup still in his hand, held with his pinky finger up.

Lucifer’s eye started to twitch. He wasn’t going to be the one breaking their pact of silence - ironic how that agreement was made… silently.

Alastor’s shadow retreated quickly with a book, only to dart back again, this time taking the most inconvenient road, purposefully knocking Lucifer’s book again the second he picked it up.

This did get a silent sight out of the king of Hell.

But the demon did not care enough to take his eyes off the tome.

This new annoying habit seemed to amuse Alastor a lot since he started to do it every single time they were there: Lucifer would arrive, think that nothing was wrong only to find a dark shadow scaring both Heaven and Hell out of him.

Three nights in a row and Lucifer was done with this.

He was the King of Hell, he was a powerful and fearful being: he was going to show it to that pompous prick.

When the tendril flew in front of him he moved quickly, grabbing the shadow with one hand, his eyes turning red and fire sparkling between his horns.

The movement was so fast that Alastor was caught off guard, but he was definitely impressed.

His cheeks burned bright as his smile trembled.

Since that day he never tried to use his shadows again.

“Hug someone today! Only after they agreed. Consent is important! -Charlie”

After the event nothing really changed, other than a small, but definitely important thing: they started greeting each other with a smile. Which wasn’t unusual for Alastor, since his smile was always shown on his face, but it felt as if that mask was slowly crumbling down.

Not only this, but Lucifer started looking forward to that smile, to that small act of kindness and intimacy the two of them shared.

And then one night came the touching.

Lucifer had seen Alastor touch pretty much every single hotel guest. Squeezing shoulders, pinching cheeks, being affectionate in a mocking kind of way, always using either his hands or his shadows to assert his dominance. And the king of Hell hated that behaviour: Alastor didn’t care if he crossed a boundary, he showed everybody that he could do whatever he wanted with them, regardless of their comfort.

The first time Lucifer and Alastor shook hands the latter cleaned it right after, so you can imagine how surprised and confused Lucifer found himself when Alastor decided to sit next to him, grazing their legs together.

His stomach churned and his head turned immediately to stare at the demon.

Alastor didn’t talk - again, nothing unusual for them in that room - but his smile twitched a bit.

Was he making fun of him? Was he trying to distract him from one of his schemes? Was he trying to get him back from the shadow situation?

The touch lasted a few seconds before Alastor repositioned himself, crossing one leg over the other, one foot making contact with Lucifer’s leg.

The king was so confused he didn’t flip a single page the entire night.

“Be sweet, be kind, be good! -Charlie”

Alastor started being more and more intimate with Lucifer.

He started offering him his tea by preparing two cups before the king arrived. He covered him with a blanket whenever he fell asleep on the couch.

It stopped being subtle when the cuddling started.

It had already been a few nights of sitting one next to the other, thighs or feet touching and eyes wandering over each other. The deer would casually touch him by grazing his hands, or by putting his hand on the king’s tight as a leverage to stand up.

But one evening his hand simply remained on the king’s leg. Fingers slowly moving. Before Lucifer could react Alastor was caressing him, as if they had been friends for their entire lives.

It lasted a few seconds - as soon as Lucifer’s brain registered the warmth it was already gone.

His heart was pounding in his chest, butterflies flapping their wings in his stomach. He felt lightheaded.

Whenever Alastor showed signs of kindness he felt like a young angel again, experiencing emotions for the very first time.

He’d find himself with golden cheeks and shaking hands.

And one night, after thinking about it the entire day, he finally made his move.

Alastor was already in the library, sitting down on the couch, nose buried in a book, his ears twitching every now and then, as if they were part of the action written on the pages.

Lucifer took a couple of breaths, trying to calm his nerves as he found the courage to sit down and take Alastor’s hand.

The action was very… awkward.

They stayed there in silence, staring at each other’s eyes while holding hands as if it was their first interaction since being created.

When he realised the absurdity of the situation his cheeks became golden. He tried to stand up again, ready to leave the room but Alastor tightened his grip.

He tilted his head as the touch morphed.

Alastor intertwined their fingers as nothing weird was happening.

Lucifer felt like falling for perdition all over again.

“Laughter is the best medicine! Laughing with your friends is the best antibiotic! -Charlie”

Six months had passed since the first time the two creatures had found themselves reading together.

Six months and nothing had changed: the hotel members still thought they hated each others - although Angel started whispering about the weird intense looks they sometimes exchanged.

Six months and, at the same time, everything was different.

Alastor and Lucifer had started by pestering each other every day and were now cuddling on the couch, Alastor’s hand scratching the king’s back, as the man had his head on the other’s lap.

They both pretended to read, but they would spend the majority of time plotting the next move, plying a game of chess to become more and more intimate.

Six months and not a single word had really left their lips. Until that day.

Alastor’s fingers were being gentle on the man’s soft pyjamas, soothing the skin underneath.

A bit too delicate for Lucifer’s taste.

Goosebumps were starting to form on his back and a maddening sensation was making him uneasy.

Al’s nails circled around the middle of the back, running up and down, switching between one finger and all four.

Lucifer was holding on, concentrating on not making a sound, focusing entirely on keeping his mouth shut.

He twitched when he felt the sensation move closer to his side. He gulped down some air and the bit his lips.

Alastor was reading, not realising the torture the other man was enduring. He was absentmindedly cuddling him, too focused on the words he was reading to notice the torture his ‘friend’ was enduring.

His fingers found the softness of Lucifer’s sides.

The king lost his battle.

A single uncontrollable giggle. So desperate to leave his lips, so cruel, so… liberating.

It was the first time Lucifer had made an actual sound in that place.

Alastor’s ears turned and his interest peaked.

His mouth opened, as to comment, but then he closed it, an evil grin on his face as soon as he realised what was happening.

This was interesting.

Lucifer’s eyes widened. He wanted to scream but he couldn’t. He tried to sit down but Lucifer’s fingers travelled back to his skin, scratching and caressing teasingly his sides.

Lucifer put his hand on his mouth, feeling the giggles build up in his throat. His legs started shaking, his torso twitching, anything to stop the sensation.

He slowly lowered his hand, his mouth ready to talk for the first time but when the other demon realised what was happening he stopped immediately his attack.

He got a bit closer, breathing Lucifer’s air, and he out a finger on his pale lips.

So this was how it had to be: defeat at first word.

Lucifer gulped loudly.

Alastor’s fingers went back to work, ready to pinch his sides but the only thing they found was air and dust.

In a puff of glitter Lucifer transformed into a snake - he was still Lucifer Morningstar, the most proud being ever created, if he could run away from this humiliation he would - but Alastor reacted quickly and one of his shadows manifested around his tail, snatching him off the floor. He transformed back into his demon form, dangling upside down with his foot held by the tentacle. His face morphed into a “Are you kidding me?” kind of expression.

Alastor left his place from the couch, facing his victim. He looked composed - as always - but a glint of mischief shined in his eyes.

He was going to destroy him. Lucifer shivered as he watched Alastor’s hands caressing the air around his body, not picking a particular spot, but letting him suffer through his indecision. As Lucifer started to thrash around, thinking about how to run away again his shirt rose up and Alastor eyed his midriff with interest. Lucifer’s mind panicked so hard that he transformed into a bird and immediately tried to fly away.

But again, his opponent was very determined.

He reappeared right in front of the door - his only way out other than the very closed window - with a wider and more menacing grin. Lucifer crashed right into him, reappearing as his usual form in a cloud of sparkles.

Alastor didn’t leave him a single second to think this time, trapping his wrists with one of his dark shadows and heading them above his head.

His stomach was again in a very vulnerable position, since his shirt had risen from all the tossing around. He had a trembling smile on his face, giggles almost leaving his lips just because he could feel Alastor stare at his body.

Probably because of this expectation he would have never anticipated fingers gently caressing one of his underarms.

Lucifer gasped and a weak groan left his throat. The touch was gentle, delicate, the fingertips tenderly swirling on his armpit. And it was so, so, devious. He started drumming his feet on the floor.

His mind kept repeating a series of “no no no no” and “okay okay okay” that he would have said out loud to distract himself hadn’t there been that stupid game of silence between them.

Lucifer tried to think of all the way he could turn the tables, tried to think how to attack him but he lost it when Al started tickling his other armpit too.

His giggles started dancing around them, uncontrollable. He couldn’t run away, he couldn’t ask for him to stop: he could only laugh.

Alastor grin widened, but he didn’t change the pace of his attack: he was going to be ruthless and methodical.

As the fingers teased his armpits, two dark shadows descended on his ribs, tracing small circles on the bones, making the fallen angel hiccup with laughter.

Lucifer really lost his battle, twisting his body to run away, too busy laughing to concentrate on shapeshifting. It was unbearable, a slow torture he knew he couldn’t endure by just letting himself laugh.

To confirm his suspicions, the moment Alastor brushed a single finger on his stomach he really gave up.

«Wahahaait!»

The room fell silent again. Alastor stopped moving. Lucifer stopped laughing. The books seemed frozen on their shelves, and the air was eager to listen to words.

«Your majesty,» it wasn’t an insult, but it wasn’t meant as a title. The king’s brain stopped working as a goldish blush dusted his cheeks. He was not expecting those words and he was not expecting to react that way. «we’re in a library. Noise should be kept at a minimum.»

Okay, he was going to kill Alastor.

Sweet golden laughter poured out of the angelic creature as the demon attacked his stomach. His fingers caressed his navel, pinched his sides, walked around his skin.

He was so light that Lucifer felt conflicted about what to feel, as if this wasn’t a kind of torture to him but was a weird act of kindness.

«Alastohohohor-» he got lost in his laughter. Giggles and high pitched squeals echoed in the darkness of the room. He realised his hands were free to move the moment he found them holding onto Alastor’s wrists, not quite pushing him away, not quite remaining still. He wasn’t sure about what he wanted to do.

«Ahahahahl» he put one hand on his mouth only to slam it back again as a tendril attacked him on the armpit. He laughed louder, feeling every part of his being ticklish.

It felt embarrassing. It felt private. But it felt… safe.

They were alone in their personal room where no one could bother them.

He giggled louder: «Ahahahahllll! I- ihihi- I demand you to stohohohop!».

Alastor grinned.

«Why should I? My king didn’t seem to mind my hands on his body before.»

«Ahahahahalasthohohor!»

«What my dear? Isn’t that true?»

Lucifer dissolved in another fit of laughter as Alastor lovely pinched every bit of skin he could find from his sides to the middle of his navel.

As hiccups started to leave the king’s lips the tickling slowed down.

«Have you had enough my dear?»

Lucifer could only nod, titters leaving his throat.

Red lights stared shining through the window.

Lucifer sighed, laughter tinted on his lips. He stared at Alastor: he looked bright, shining of a unique and mischievous light that only he could radiate.

They were very close, Alastor on him, hands holding him still. Lucifer’s skin was still sensitive, at every little movement he felt like starting giggling again.

Their faces were few inches apart, so close they could feel the warmth of each other’s breath.

Lucifer found himself staring at the other’s lips; only to realise he wasn’t the only one.

It felt as if they were getting closer, as if he could taste Alastor’s lips had he only moved a bit.

«I guess I will see you tomorrow my dear.»

And just like that he was gone

“You can find friends everywhere! Even at the library! Ask the person next to you what are they reading! Who knows what might happen! - Charlie”

That night Lucifer arrived at the library before Al.

He arrived before midnight. Angel and Husk were still at the counter, chatting and giggling together. They greeted him, but he was too distracted to care.

He sat on the couch, twisting his hands and waited.

When Alastor arrived the king was so nervous he could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

He immediately stood up, eager to talk right away, but Alastor went straight to the shelves, picking a book up.

Lucifer was confused to say the least.

Alastor sat down and started to flip pages as if nothing had happened between them the day before. When he picked his cup up Lucifer became furious.

«Are you kidding me?»

The sound of the king’s voice made Alastor jump. He probably thought that their pact of silence was back on because he looked confused.

«Is there anything wrong sir?»

Lucifer was fuming.

«I thought-» he shook his head and tried again «We’ve been coming here for six months. You’re the one who started messing with me. I came here just to read in peace and you-» he had to take a moment to recompose.

«I was fine. Then you arrived and disrupted my peace. You started to get closer and at first I thought it was to mock me but then… it seemed like you cared.»

Alastor sat there, staring.

«I thought you were starting to like me. I know in front of everybody you were your usual bitch self but- but here, here you were sweet and kind and.. and you started getting closer, touching me, putting your hand on my shoulder and- and yesterday I thought..» he put his fingers in his hair.

«Yesterday I felt something. And I know you felt it too because you were giving me that weird specific smile you have when you are actually happy and.. and now you just sit there, drinking your stupid tea and reading your stupid book as if nothing happened. And you have the courage to ask me if there is something wrong?»

Lucifer was out of breath, hands shaking.

It took the deer a few seconds to take it all in. Then he slowly closed his book, put his cup down and got up.

«Six months ago I came here to annoy you.» he began «Charlie told me that she was worried about you and asked me to check on you, as if I was some kind of nurse. My original plan was to hide every book you were reading.» he softly smiled avoiding the other’s eyes.

«But then when I saw you the first night you arrived... You looked miserable my dear. Charlie was right, I just couldn’t take advantage of a helpless puppy like that.» he tried to joke around his feelings, but the nickname didn’t feel derogatory as probably intended.

Alastor stood up and turned himself towards the books. He talked slowly, but each word was tinted with honesty.

«I decided to keep you company, to keep an eye on you so that if I helped you you’d be in debt. But then you started being… you again. After a few nights of pestering you I saw your face changing, I saw your smile coming back. And I found myself waiting for those moments.» he sighed facing Lucifer who was so shocked he didn’t know how to react.

«I am- I am sorry for hurting your feelings: that was not my intention.» his sight finally met Lucifer’s «But I wasn’t toying with you. Even if it started like that: adter all it was endearing to see you embarrassed.» Lucifer rolled his eyes at that.

«But I soon realised I wasn’t just having fun though: I was seeking out these meetings. Suddenly I found myself thinking about you during the day. Hoping we would fight so I could spend more time with you.»

Alastor feelings were shining around them now, dancing through the space between their bodies.

«It took me a while to understand and accept what was happening. And then yesterday when you were adorned with the most beautiful smile I felt something I thought I would never feel. Something resembling… more than just affection.» he whispered.

Lucifer felt himself moving without being able to control the motion. His hands brushed Alastor’s hands and their eyes locked just like the first day there.

Their library. Their sacred and demonic place. The only room that saw them as friends.

Everything felt so distant, but so alive, buzzing with energy.

Alastor took his hands, but Lucifer was the one who closed the gap between their lips.

All those days spent bickering, arguing over stupid shit, fighting one against the other, only to be defeated by a small environment full of books.

The kiss was small, soft, more than just brushing their lips, intense but not overwhelming. It was everything Lucifer needed to remind him how to breathe, how to feel, how to live.

It tasted like rivalry and play, like mischief and honesty. It simply tasted like them.

They smiled at each other, Lucifer’s hands shaking.

«Shall we go back to our readings my dear?» Alastor asked. He seemed composed as always but a hint of blush was dusted on his cheeks.

«Yeah, of course.»

Before leaving, Lucifer found a new little note on the table. This time it wasn’t on the usual yellow post-it.

Charlie’s words were written on a heart shaped red card.

He smiled before leaving the room.

“May this library always bring joy and love to whoever needs it.

P.s. love you dad

-Charlie”

~~~

This message is for AnonEmu. I really hope you like this fic, I swear I tried to honour your prompts, and I hope the length of the it didn’t scare you.

When I first read your pairings I thought about writing for a lee!Alastor ler!Vox fic but honestly I’m so happy I changed my mind.

Trying to write a cute, fluffy and lovingly tickle scene between two of the characters that hate each other the most was challenging, but this gave me the opportunity to actually focus on the story and not just the tickling part, which I realise it’s quite short, but I really hope you can still appreciate it.

The characters are probably a bit OOC but I swear I tried to give them at least the right vibes.

Having said that, I really have to thank you AnonEmu, I really want to thank you for your prompts, and I really really really want to thank @cantsaythetword. You’ve been an amazing host, you’ve done so much and you deserve all the love and recognition in the world.

Now you probably wont see or hear from me for a few months, but I wanted to thank all the people who reblog, comment or like my art and writing.

You make me proud of my work.

[aggro-my-beloved]

《 ♡ Soulmate September Schedule ♡ 》

hello lovely fandom, @aggro-my-beloved here! i’m over the moon to announce that for the entire month of september i will be posting soulmate au centered fics featuring your favorite redacted pairings! some are canon, some are not…but all the works listed below are ones i’m proud to share. the plots and pairings will be listed below the cut. please interact by replying or reblogging this post, and let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of the following fics once they are

posted <3 (p.s. pls don’t let this flop)

all the following prompts are based on this post from my main blog, @buck-nialled

⑨.②.②④ ⇒ “Long In The Tooth” (LaskoxDear)

[lasko’s been eighteen for six years now, and frankly, he’s becoming sick of playing a juvenile. what makes his endeavor for a soulmate even more bewildering? they’re one of his students.]

❾.❹.❷❹ ⇒ “Trash Polka” (AsherxBabe)

[babe is tired of wearing hoodies in summer, and leggings in the spring. but their soulmate seems too caught up in his career to mind leaving little notes and drawings on their skin, rather than meeting up for a legitimate conversation. babe takes matters into their own hands, which soon won’t be covered by a mod-podge of their soulmate’s scribbles. at least, one can hope.]

⑨.⑥.②④ ⇒ “The Grey Area” (GuyxHoney)

[what’s more depressing than witnessing an amusement park in black and white? realizing it may be the last time you visit one, is probably what guy would answer, as he dangles upside down on Wonderworld’s “Surge” coaster. the pretty stranger next to him isn’t the worst company, though.]

❾.❽.❷❹ ⇒ “A Great Disservice” (DavidxAngel)

[david serves a dangerous line of work. and angel? they cat sit. still, both come home with cuts and scratches for the same reason.]

⑨.①⓪.②④ ⇒ “Rumination” (DamienxHuxley)

[a re-imagined dialogue to the elemental bois confessing their feelings.]

❾.❶❷.❷❹ ⇒ “Resigned/Sullen” (DavidxAsher)

[neither david nor asher have spoken post-inversion about the turmoil they experienced in the arena. not the scars that wouldn’t heal, not what caused them, and certainly not who kept asher from bleeding out on the ground.]

⑨.①④.②④ ⇒ “Pulsation” (Foolsverse!MiloxSweetheart)

[milo enjoys feeling his soulmate’s heart thump faster when he’s present. but only when he’s present.]

❾.❶❻.❷❹ ⇒ “Like and Unlike” (Davidxfem!Angel)

[angel thinks she’s finally found a cure for her crippling social anxiety at Dahlia’s local gym. but she cannot tell if david, the ill-tempered coach, will be the one to make or break her progress.]

⑨.①⑧.②④ ⇒ “Parting Song” (QuinnxDarlin’)

[when you’re standing next to who you think is your soulmate, as you watch the real one whither away in a shitty steel department chair—how do you respond?]

❾.❷⓪.❷❹ ⇒ “Battered and Bruised” (Samx Darlin’)

[so long as he doesn’t tell them, sam can keep up his act of healing darlin’ without suspicion. it’s magic, after all…]

⑨.②②.②④ ⇒ “Twin, Where Have You Been?” (MiloxSweetheart)

[“well, sweetheart. one of us is gonna have to change.” in which milo and his soulmate will forever be that couple.]

❾.❷❹.❷❹ ⇒ “Midnight Oil” (AaronxSmartass)

[the matchmaker test is the one exam nobody can study for. only fate will tell a person who they truly belong with. still, aaron attempts to pull an all nighter with his overly-charming classmate in an attempt to cheat the system.]

⑨.②⑥.②④ ⇒ “All Roads Lead To…” (DavidxDarlin’)

[david’s twelve years young and still leashed in red, wondering when he’ll meet the one on the other side of it, or if he even wants to. darlin’ is eleven years in, a hopeless romantic, and crossing the California state line when they notice their red string now has a little slack.]

❾.❷❽.❷❹ ⇒ “Change Your Tune” (GeordixCutie)

[cutie’s soulmate is the number one target on their shit list. because who on god’s green earth gets the tetris theme stuck in their head on a daily basis? well, they’re about to meet him...]

⑨.③⓪.②④ ⇒ “As If You’ll Live Forever” (ElliotxSunshine)

[the one thing more ironic than sunshine’s soulmate being a dreamwalker is how tired they’ve become of sleeping.]

[skz-streamer]

Will you be my wife?

Simptober Small Things You Do M-list

Pairing: Changbin (skz) x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: just brain rot fluff :)

Notes: hahaaaa tricked you w the teaser, ik it doesn't really match up w the lyrics but I feel like this line is really proposal coded so yea:)))

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

Word count - 484;)

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

Three years of dating Changbin had been an incredible journey. Your relationship had grown stronger with each passing day, and you couldn't have been happier. It was a sunny day when Changbin had asked you out on a date for lunch, and you had an inkling that this might be the perfect moment to take the next step in your relationship.

As you prepared for the lunch date, your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You chose a cute dress that made you feel special, hoping that today would be a day you'd both remember forever. As you got ready, you couldn't help but notice that Changbin had also taken extra care in selecting his outfit. It made you smile, knowing that he was putting in effort just like you were.

Finally, you arrived at the restaurant, and Changbin, ever the gentleman, quickly got out of the car to open your door. His sweet gesture made your heart flutter, and you couldn't have asked for a more thoughtful partner.

Once you were seated at your table, the atmosphere seemed to buzz with nervous energy. Both of you were equally jittery, though you couldn't quite put your finger on why Changbin was so anxious. The anticipation hung in the air, adding a layer of tension to the otherwise pleasant setting.

As the meal progressed, you tried to enjoy your lunch, but the nagging thought of your proposal plan was always on your mind. Finally, as dessert was being served, you decided it was now or never.

But just as you were about to gather your courage and propose, Changbin caught you off guard. He grabbed your hand and placed it in his, then reached under the table, pulling out a small box. Your heart raced, and before you could even process what was happening, he asked, "Will you be my wife?"

Your jaw dropped in shock, and you stammered out an instinctive "no..." Changbin's face fell, his eyes wide and hurt. Panic seized you, and then you burst into laughter, loud and uncontainable.

Changbin's confusion deepened, and he blinked at you, utterly bewildered. You managed to catch your breath between laughs and said, "No... you did it before I could."

Relief washed over Changbin's face, and he joined in your laughter. In unison, you both exclaimed, "So is that a yes?"

Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you both reached into your pockets, producing the rings you had secretly prepared for each other. It was a moment of sheer serendipity, and you couldn't help but feel that it was meant to be.

With trembling hands, you exchanged the rings, the symbols of your commitment and love for each other. The feeling of the cool metal sliding onto your finger was accompanied by a warmth that filled your heart. It was official—you were engaged, and you couldn't have been happier.

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

Tags:  @eee5533 @mixtape-racha @cherry-edibles @ren0325 @felixvsp @hwangrimi @sanriiolino @painstakingly-juno @herarcadewasteland @dabiscrustyfeet @kai-jilee  @sungiesoonie  @slvtty4channiee @revelaffee @buckys-pillow, @staygirl86 @chlodavids @jinnie-ret @bbygrlhannie @rebecca-johnson-28  @turtledove824  @interstellarairwaves @yearofthetiger25 @minhos4thkitty @fiqire @backintomykpopphaseagain @liknws @tinyelfperson

[cdragons]

Bound by Embroidered Chains - Aemond Targaryen x Seamstress!OC x Jacaerys Velaryon - Chapter One

Prologue

Summary: Dragons have a habit in hoarding the prettiest of jewels, and pearls are of no exceptions.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ Obsessive Behavior (we all knew this was coming), tiny!Aemond is delulu, tiny!Jace is delulu, Dark Themes, not betaread we burn like Harrenhal, etc. Also translations for Valyrian will be added at the bottom! Also I used an online translator for the High Valyrian, so it may not be great 🫠

Author's Note: Hello everyone! Thank you all so much for the amazing support for this story's prologue, I did NOT expect so many positive reviews! I'm sorry this took so long, but I had a ton of applications and finals. But since I am on winter break, hopefully I will be able to upload more fics! Happy Holidays and big shoutout to @valeskafics, who continues to be the HOTD fanfic writing ICON that we all know and love! If you liked reading this work, reblog and comment if you want to be tagged in future installments of this work! Also I apologize for any grammatical errors, I wanted to post this as soon as possible.

You have known your entire life that you were going to be one of the many seamstresses that serviced the Royal Family.

By the age of three, your mother would teach you how to begin your very first stitches, which soon shifted to learning the most complicated patterns of embroidery. You still remember the tears in her eyes as you presented the silk-woven handkerchief that had lovely little purple and blue flowers embroidered on the borders for her birthday. Your face flushed to an almost too bright red when she insisted on showing all the other royal seamstresses and tailors your first handkerchief. But it made you smile in remembering how big her smile was that week, as she was so pleased by how much you’ve progressed at such a young age.

When you were only six, your mother had begun to teach you how to properly extract the dye from beautiful flowers and the scales of brightly-colored insects. So skilled and nimble were your fingers that you even gave your childhood playmate, Aemond Targaryen, a thick green wool cloak with green and silver dragon embroidery. The cloak’s wool had been dyed by your hand with copious amounts of goldenrod and indigo flowers. You then carefully stitched silk to line the inside of the cloak to prevent him from overheating, as even the harshest winters in the Crownlands were hardly anything compared to the summers in the North. It had caught you off-guard in the almost too-tight embrace he locked you in, but you eagerly reciprocated as you could tell he appreciated the gift more than words could describe.

It was not just a gift for is name-day from a childhood companion, but also a way to reassure him that he will one day have a dragon. And even if the gods do not grant him worthy in their eyes, he would always be considered a prince worthy of the Targaryen name in yours. After all, there were not many princes that would willingly spend all their free time with a lowly seamstress’ daughter – even if the supposed seamstress that was your mother was so heavily favored by the Queen.

“Pearl,” came a voice with a tone far too serious despite its youth, “what are you doing in the Godswood?”

You lifted your head from old tome you were studying, only to see a young boy of only nine name-days, that stood as straight as one of the stone pillars that stood in the Sept of Baelor. His white locks nearly blinded you with how the sunshine seemed to reflect on them.

“Well my prince, as you can clearly see, I have decided to take advantage of this fine day to do a bit of studying of my own.” You lifted the near ancient tome on your lap to show him the title, Myths and Legends of the Jade Seas.

Whatever outwardly beauty the book possessed had long diminished, the spine was bent from the hundreds of hours spent looking through its contents and the letters were near faded to a dull grey as the pages yellowed from age. But the colors of the ink remained as vibrant as when they were first painted on the frail sheets, accompanied by beautiful imagery of magical dragons and elusive mermaids. The details were so fine and intricate that it felt as if you only needed to touch the ink in order to be transported into the stories. You remembered how you begged either your mother or father to read it to you every night, as utterly transfixed by the colors back then as you remained so now.

“You are more than welcome to join me, but if – and only if – you share one of those apples hiding in your knapsack.”

Finally showing an expression appropriate for his age, the young prince reached in his pouch to show two gorgeous apples – the skin was practically gleaming in the sun as your mouth watered for its taste. Aemond handed one to you as he sat by your side underneath the plentiful shade of the heart tree. Scooting over to make room on the overgrown root you sat on, you eagerly showed him strange text.

“Look Aemond!” you exclaimed as you shoved the book to his nose. “This book says that there were dragons in Yi Ti! Isn’t that amazing?”

Aemond looked at you as if you had suddenly grown two heads and five eyes. “How can there be dragons in Yi Ti? All the dragons save the ones in the dragonpit and the rocky shores of Dragonstone had perished in The Doom that sunk Valyria. Everyone knows that pearl.”

“These dragons are different! According to my kepa, Yi Ti dragons don’t even need wings to fly!”

The young prince rolled his eyes at that. “How could they fly if they don’t have wings? Even Carraxes the Blood Wrym has wings, and he looks like an overgrown red snake.” Honestly, his pearl could be so silly. “Besides, what would your father know? He’s a bastard from the Iron Islands, that’s nowhere near the Jade Seas.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “He heard so on his travels with Lord Velaryon and Prince Laenor! Apparently, these dragons use magic and live in the ocean. And they don’t even breathe fire! They make it rain and control the oceans!”

“…Pearl, I think you’ve been spending too much time making those dyes. The fumes must have gotten to your head.”

You openly gaped at your friend’s comment, completely in shock for how blatantly he dismissed you. It made you want to pound your fists on his person until he took it back. So naturally, you did just that.

“Aemond Targaryen, you take that back right now!” you shrieked. Although your actions told otherwise, the smile on your face showed that you took no true offense to his words. If anything, it pleased you to know that you could still make the stone-faced prince giggle as a boy should at his age.

“Never!”

As the two of you giggled and played, several pairs of wandering eyes spied and grimaced at the distasteful display. Although your friendship with the next generation of the royal family was no secret, much of the court disapproved of how highly the royal family thought of you and Prince Aemond’s friendship. After all, he was the second born prince of House Targaryen, born of King Viserys and Queen Alicent. By the time the Targaryen prince could toddle, great things were expected from him. From a very early age, he immersed himself in his studies befitting of a prince of Westeros. You, on the other hand, were only the daughter of a seamstress and a bastard knight who became a lord of a holding so minor that it had no name. You only skills were that you could make pretty dye, and stitch pretty pictures with a needle and thread.

But he always treated you kindly and defended you whenever his eldest brother decided to use you as his latest target for mockery. You were a precious pearl – his precious pearl – Aegon may be his brother, but he could never love Aegon as much as he loved you. True, your father being a bastard did you no favors in the Red Keep’s court, but Aemond would never tell you that himself. Instead, he openly acknowledged his bravery and commended his loyalty to the Crown. After all, how many bastards can boast that they saved the Lord Corlys Velaryon, holder of the Driftwood Throne, from a siege of pirates during one of the lord’s many voyages to Essos?

In turn, you always made sure to provide comfort and support whenever his brother and nephews decided to pick on him. Without fail, he would seek out your company – his eyes red and puffy, while his cheeks were wet from hastily wiped tears. You would take his hands and the two of you would venture out to the library’s more secluded sections. You made sure to pack whatever you have been working on with you. While you were glad that he came to you for comfort, it would do little good for either of you if you were to be punished for not completing whatever tasks your mother assigned you.

“Who cares if you don’t have a dragon?” you once asked him as the two of you laid next to each other, surrounded by books. “There are plenty members of the Targaryen line that did not have dragons, but they still lived out important lives in serving their family however they could. King Jaehaerys was considered a great ruler for how he served the realm– not for riding Vermithor. And even if you had a dragon, is that all you wish to be known for? Your grandfather, Baelon the Brave, was wise and beloved by the small folk for how he tried to make their lives easier. But all he is known for in history books is how he burned down Dorne with Vhagar.”

“Better to be known for a dragon than to disappear, not being known for anything – not even a dragon worthy of the Targaryen name.”

Sitting up against a bookshelf, you repositioned Aemond to lie his head on your thighs. Luckily the candlelight made the area dark enough so that you wouldn’t see his ears turning red. Instead, he buried his face in the soft cotton of your blue tunic as you stroked his soft silver white locks. Although his heart was beating erratically, your sweet scent along with your body’s suppleness was enough to take away any ire left in him.

“Stop that,” you ordered, “you will not be forgotten, don’t be so dramatic.” Eyes softening at his tense shoulders, you eased on the sternness of your tone. “Nyke pendagon iksā brilliant. Eman dōrī rhēdan anyone else qilōni kostagon ȳdragon Valyrio Eglie hae sȳrī hae ao.  Kostā solve problems bona aegon ēza trouble lēda during aōha lessons lēda se Giēñatī.  Aemond, iksā ñuha sȳrje raqiros.  Gaomagon daor ivestragon kesā sagon daor rūnas.”

You pretended not to notice how tightly he clenched your dress as you ignored the how warm the spot where his hot tears grew.

As you continued to stroke his hair, Aemond made a silent vow that when he finally claimed a dragon, you would be the first person he would ride it with. He thought about how his bastard nephews would always try to take you from him, especially Jace, how he despised that boy. No, your touches would belong to him, and only him. Your sweet words and kind demeanor were his to cherish. You were his pearl – his pearl – and no one else’s, especially not the pretend Targaryen that was Jacaerys Strong.

Yes, it pleased Aemond to know that he was your best friend. But sometimes it frustrated him in how you refused to take him seriously as a man. For example, he once announced that when he claimed his dragon, he would finally be a noble dragon knight who would protect you from the most vicious of beasts. No matter how he insisted on his sincerity, you only rolled your eyes at the proclamation. You told him that you had no need for a knight, let alone a dragon knight. You had your dearest kepa for protection, and there was no finer knight in all the Seven Kingdoms in your eyes. So silly was his pearl indeed.

“Ashi’!” a new voice called out, interrupting the comfortable silence between him and his pearl. It belonged to the king’s eldest grandson, Prince Jacaerys Strong Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne after his mother, Princess Rhaenyra. “Your mother is looking for you! She said that she needs your help with Mother’s clothes!”

“Alright!” When you stood from you spot, you made sure to brush away any dirt or debris left on your skirts. You gathered your mother’s book in both arms when you made your way to the prince. “But why did my muña not send one of her attendants instead? It would not have been difficult to find me. Everyone knows that I enjoy reading under the Hearts Tree in the Godswood during my spare time. Are you not busy with your own duties, my prince?”

Straightening his posture to appear taller, Jace did his best to sound as authoritative as his father had taught him. “I just finished my lessons for the morning, and I volunteered to escort you. Besides, I figured that it would do me some good in practicing escorting you. I’ll need to do it in the future when I am king after my mother.” His round freckled cheeks reddened to a rosy hue at that last part.

Not at all catching the terribly obvious implication, you shrugged off his words as you figured that he meant that he was using you as practice for whichever future noble lady he would court in the future. However, the suggestion was not at all lost on your friend, who was still sitting on the overgrown root, glaring at his eldest nephew with a fury that rivaled the Great Doom that sunk Valyria.

“Well, we should be on our way then. Come on Aemond, we should get going!” You held out your held for your friend to hold on to, but were quickly interrupted by the brown-haired Targaryen at the side.

“He can’t! I mean-” stammered Jace as did his best in thinking of an excuse, “-I’m afraid my uncle cannot join us. You see, um – his mother, the Queen, requested his presence in her solar.”

“I’m sure my mother won’t mind waiting for a few moments while I join you in escorting my pearl to her favorite friend, nephew.” This wasn’t a lie on Aemond’s part. While he didn’t like the idea in keeping his mother waiting for him, he despised the thought of you being alone with the Strong Knight’s eldest bastard even more. Besides, his mother adored you as if you were her own daughter. It would have gone without saying that she would be happy with her son spending time with her best friend’s daughter.

“But why would you want to risk it, uncle?” Jacaerys wasn’t going to let his selfish uncle hog all of your attention. You were his friend too! It wasn’t fair that he had find crumbs of your time and affections, while his uncle got to feast on your smiles and laughter. He had spent hours with the dragon keepers of the dragonpit to help him train Vermax, all so that he could finally show you how close he was in riding him! But you were always too busy comforting his stupid dragonless uncle!

Enough was enough. Jacaerys may have been a Velaryon like his father, but he was also a Targaryen like his mother. It was he who carried the dragon’s blood, and dragons took what they desired or felt what they deserved. And he desrved to be with you more than Aemond.

“It’s alright Aemond, we’ll talk more later! Let’s go Jace, we shouldn’t keep our mothers waiting any more than we have.” Grabbing his hand before walking out of the gardens, you weren’t able to see the younger prince throw a triumphant smirk to his uncle before once more facing you with the story of how Luke accidentally got egg in his hair.

Watching his literal bastard of a nephew walk hand-in-hand away with his pearl, Aemond Targaryen felt his fury grow more potent with each step. He hated that you called his nephew by his nickname, all while he had none. What’s worse was the fact that you allowed him to refer to you as “Ashi.” What a ridiculous name, only a lowborn such as his nephew would refer to someone as precious as you as something as study and simple like “Ashi.” You were a pearl – his pearl, in fact. A fact that he felt was important to emphasize as he watched your head being thrown back in laughter. His anger grew to an all-time high when he watched you ruffle Jacaery’s hair with abundant affection.

Not wanting to make a scene, he walked to his mother’s chambers in fuming silence. While her presence wasn’t yours, maybe he could think of a plan to get you away from his whore of a sister and her illegitimate offspring.

If worse comes to worst, he might need to recruit his sister to his cause. He knew that Helaena would especially be thrilled in receiving your presence. You were the only one besides your parents that did not treat his beloved sister like an oddity. If you were not with Aemond, you were often found stitching with the young princess. It seemed that you were the only person in the entire world that could get her to smile.

Such a sweet girl, his pearl. Someone so kind was not meant to endure the presence of lowly bastards – even if they did technically carry royal blood.

He needed to come up with something fast.

Translations:

“Nyke pendagon iksā brilliant. Eman dōrī rhēdan anyone else qilōni kostagon ȳdragon Valyrio Eglie hae sȳrī hae ao.  Kostā solve problems bona aegon ēza trouble lēda during aōha lessons lēda se Giēñatī.  Aemond, iksā ñuha sȳrje raqiros.  Gaomagon daor ivestragon kesā sagon daor rūnas.” - “You’re brilliant. I’ve never met anyone else who can speak such fluent High Valyrian, especially at your age. You can solve problems that Aegon has trouble with during your lessons with the Maester. Aemond, you are my best friend. Don’t say that you will be forgotten.”

Tagging:

@valeskafics, @faesspace, @aphroditesmoon, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @nellychick, @asa-do-your-thing, @arcielee, @bellamys-girl1, @immyowndefender, @xxlovingfandomsxx, @elinedjarin, @meg-egg-blog, @marvelescape, @mandiiblanche, @lokiofasgard12, @boxedpandas, @anewpersonthatexists, @toodlesxcuddles, @mckiquinn, @cvspians, @aemondslove

[mer-acle]

Introduction Post

I've been wanting to do an indroductory post for a while, so let's do that :D

Hi, I'm Tasha (she/her) :) ( you can call me Mer, too, if you want)

I basically post art, writing related things and the occasional life-update or thought. Ofc some tumblr shenanigans like tag games and the like, too

Speaking of; feel free to @ me in tag games or other posts as you like :) If you don't want to be tagged, please let me know, I'll note it and ofc won't do it anymore

Asks: By all means, send me asks. I don't want to be like formally doing requests but I don't mind receiving them, if I feel like it, I'll ofc do it, if not, I'll let you know.

My asks are usually tagged with #tasha asks

My other #s

#tasha talks : Life updates and the like. Do I mostly forget this tag? yeahhhh

#tasha is not okay actually : Hi, I'm Tasha, and my mental health is shit. These might get a little dark at times, but I promise there's no reason to worry, being dramatic helps to keep the demons at bay

#mer-acle art tag : My art

#fic: fighting to be loved : My main EPIC fanfic that's currently being written, I post updates, snippets and ofc when a new chapter comes out :)

#nemori : Posts relating to my original novel "Nemori" which is in progress rn. (feel extra free to ask about it my life will be yours) 

#marielle tag : related to Nemori, tag for my MC Marielle 

#tartarus buddies tag : when you want watch my friend @evermorecatra and me being absolutely unhinged together (mainly about EPIC!Athena) you should check out this tag, we worked hard to earn it.

My projects/Other socials:

Here's my linktree

Some explanations:

I post a bunch of art on instagram, you can find some animatics and movie analysis videos on youtube, and ofc an unreasonable amount of my fanfic on Ao3 (masterpost of what works you'll find here, I've got EPIC, and MCU stuff)

Fandoms:

It's tumblr lol. Ofc I have fandoms. EPIC The Musical and Greek Mythology would be the big ones especially atm.

Some other things I have watched/read and can therefore be talked to about lol:

MCU (Infinity Saga mainly), LotR, The Boys, The Promised Neverland, Six of Crows, Hazbin Hotel, Mean Girls (Musical and otherwise), Heathers (Musical and otherwise), Beetlejuice (Musical and otherwise), Saw, AtlA, Encanto, The Fall of the House of Usher, Arcane (Season One so far no spoilers pls), Miraculous (okay I have mostly lore on that rather than Watchtime), It (Stephen King), Hamilton, SIX, The Agatha Christie catalogue lol, Sherlock Holmes, Descendants, Stranger Things, Final Destination (honestly I'm not listing more horror stuff, chances are I know something about it at least), Anne of Green Gables, Dracula, etc... (I already know I missed like a million things, when in doubt, just ask)

Some other stuff:

I can be a little slow with asks or replying to posts, it's not personal at all, my brain is just weird sometimes. If you fear I might have forgotten, don't be afraid to ask/remind me. At any rate, please know if it takes me a day or so it's not bc I don't want to or I'm mad or something <33

xx

Tasha

^ it's meeeeeee

[navstuffs]

Hello, first of all, YOUR WRITING IS GOD’S WORK, second of all, I need a second part of “I know it’s thick”, bc that took me out 💀 It was fucking fantastic. And last but definitely not least, you seem very sweet, and like an amazing person, keep up the good work 🥰💕👏✨

"I know it is thick." - Part 2

Pairing: Boss!Carlos Oliveira x GN!Reader

Summary: It is thick, and now you know it.

Warnings tags: SMUT SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE, blowjob (m receiving), public sex, under-the-desk blowjob while jill is in the room, porn with feelings (sorta), carlos always brazilian in my fics (foda-se capcom ESSE HOMI É DO BRASIL), translations at the bottom

Author's Notes: ANON YOU ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE!! the idea came to me while reading your ask and i was like WHY NOT? again, bear with me since smut is still a constant work in progress. also thank you so much for your kind words and requesting with me, i hope i deliver! <;3 @cerezzzita aqui miga 💖

part 1 | my carlos's masterlist

You would never have guessed you would end up like this. You see, after sending that text message, you thought you would have been fired or sued for sexual harassment within Carlos's rights.

Not that by late Friday night, you would be doing extra work. And by that, it means your legs spread apart, holding yourself back in the cabinets of the stockroom as your boss Carlos pounds into you, his big hands holding your hips with such strength it would probably hurt tomorrow. Not that you cared: since this whole thing started three weeks ago, you have discovered you had muscles that ached that you didn't even know existed.

As Carlos's ball hit against your ass, the slapping sound sounding pornographic to your ears enough to drive you crazy, you hold onto the cold shelves, your legs barely keeping you steady. Every thrust he gives inside you is more powerful than the other, seeming to reach deeper into you. It had to be that thick cock, you thank mentally. 

"Are you close?" Carlos wonders, and you imagine his bare ass looks delicious, his social pants on the floor.

You moan a pathetic yes and beg Carlos to touch you, and his hands find you, jerking in that delicious way only he could do it. It is unfair how well Carlos knew your body, although this only started a couple of weeks ago.

Three weeks since you stayed late and found out it was really that thick and you could barely fit in your mouth. Three weeks since this man gave you the best orgasm of your life. Three weeks doing extra work time.

With the way he is rubbing you, you don't take long to cum, biting your lips and closing your eyes to hold back a moan. Carlos gives you two final thrusts before you hear him muttering a curse in portuguese as he cums deep inside your walls. You stay silent for a moment, just the sound of your breaths before Carlos pulls out of you, his semen slowly dropping out of you.

You take a second to straighten yourself, your back hurting (it seems you are taking another ibuprofen tomorrow), when you feel Carlos pass a cloth between your legs, cleaning you gently.

"Oh, mhm, thanks?" You say unsure, and he smiles, giving you his handkerchief, with his initials sewn on it.

Carlos stares at you, wanting to say something. You are a little worried about it might be: yes, what you are doing is wrong, and you both know it. You are worried Carlos might want to end this sooner than later; you know he will have to. Or maybe he will finally invite you out? Maybe, you will end up fucking Carlos in a proper bed, not on top or under his desk.

"I will see you later, then." Carlos doesn't wait for your answer, and you ignore the pain in your chest, his handkerchief just the memory he left on you (along, well, with his cum). Again, this would have to end someday, right? It was just sex.

Two days later, you are under Carlos's desk a little after everyone leaves. You see, you went in there to end it all before Carlos could but, somehow, ended up with you on top of his desk, his head on the middle of your thighs. The things Carlos could do with his tongue were skills out of this world, and suddenly you can't remember what you wanted to do here.

You just didn't want him to stop.

So now, you are just repaying for the multiple orgasms from earlier, you tell yourself as his thick cock hits the back of your throat. It had nothing to do with the fact that you loved sucking him, the sight of his strong and hairy tights, hearing Carlos beg for your name, and how this powerful man seemed to melt in your arms because of you.

There is a sudden knock on Carlos's door, and you both seem to freeze. You look up, and Carlos gives you an urgent look, his eyes pleading for you to stay shut. "Please don't say come in," you beg mentally, but the door opens before Carlos can say anything, just with enough time to pull out of your mouth.

"Oh, I am so glad you are still here." Carlos's partner and your other boss, Jill Valentine sounds pissed. Carlos immediately pushes the chair into you, completely hiding your body, causing his dick to get close to your lips.

Jill vents about the challenging project the whole team has been working on, and for your relief, she doesn't pay enough attention to Carlos. Carlos gently tries to keep your head away from his cock, but you don't move. When he looks down in panic, you would have laughed if you could because Carlos knew exactly what was going through your mind.

When you test by licking the tip of his cock Carlos has to hold himself back against the chair, Jill still doesn't seem to notice. You try again, this time swirling your tongue around it, and Carlos curses.

"Puta merda."

"Did you say something?" Jill wonders, and you hold back a laugh.

"Puta merda this project huh, Jill?"

Jill continues her rant as your head goes down into Carlos's cock, slowly and torturous. Your boss has to hold himself into the table, his knuckles turning white as a low whimper dies down in his throat. His hands look for your head, you don't know if to pull you away or push you more down, but you don't stop.

"....and I am telling you, if this doesn't get solved by the end of the week, I swear I will cancel this whole deal!"

"Puta que pariu!"

"Well, I am glad you agree with me!" Jill exclaims, slamming the table. She finally looks at Carlos, who is sweaty, his chest rising up and down as he bites his lips. 

"Carlos, are you okay? You look feverish."

"I-I am fine, Jill. All good. Just sh-sharing your frustrations, that is it."

Jill thinks she heard a strange, slurping noise after Carlos says that, but the sound stops. Her phone rings before she can ask what it is, and she groans, frustrated.

"You know, we shouldn't work this late. Life isn't just work, you know?" Jill expresses, before leaving his office, waving goodbye.

You can hear the door closing, and Carlos roughly pulls out of your mouth. You gulp, anxious, wondering if you finally took too far and Carlos will end it all, when your boss's face appears under the table to stare at you, full of desire.

"You want to play like that? Fine. Let's see how long it takes for you to gag on my cock." Carlos' voice is low and threatening, bringing chills all over your body, especially your heat.

"Challenge accepted, boss."

Puta merda = Holy shit

Puta que pariu = Holyfucking shit

[kiwiana-writes]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks @stellarmeadow @onthewaytosomewhere and @suseagull04 for the tags this evening! I've been pretty focused on the subscriber shindig fics this week, and also final edits on the podfic I recorded for @aroyallybigbangrwrb which is posting REALLY FUCKING SOON, so I haven't made a lot of progress on bigger WIPs. However, I DO actually have something to share, because I had one of those 'imagining a little snippet and had to get it down into my Notes app before it disappeared' moments this afternoon, and in the absence of any other unpublished writing lately, that's what you get! This is another new WIP and definitely won't see the light of day for a while, but after decades (months at most) of being brutally bullied and harangued (mildly affectionately teased) by @rmd-writes about the state of my WIP folder... she forced me to add one (said 'ooh I want that' in response to a joke I made). Nothing has ever been my fault in my entire life, actually.

Anyway, y'all know the drill by now. Not into it? Scrolling is a free action.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re actually so worked up about this?” “Because.” Alex runs his finger around the edge of the glass, something to focus on that isn’t Nora’s too-knowing gaze. “Falling for him—it’s a cliché, isn’t it?” Nora hums thoughtfully. “Him falling for you is a cliché. You falling for him is just your inner contrarian coming to the surface.”  “Shut the fuck up.” He scrunches a napkin into a ball before flicking it across the table, but she bats it away easily.  “Look.” Nora picks up her mimosa, taking a sip. “You like him. He, for some inexplicable reason, likes you. You’re both going into this with your eyes open. It doesn’t actually have to be more complicated than that.”

Tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517

@cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice @everwitch-magiks

@firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz @leaves-of-laurelin

@littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @matherines @myheartalivewrites @ninzied

@nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @piratefalls

@read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons

@thesleepyskipper @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

[strawberrylabs]

Strawberry's Whumptober masterlist!

warning!! some of these post will contain gore, death, mental distress and other themes that may be disturbing to some readers! Please pay attention to they tags on each post and read with caution!

note: These will be 'x reader' posts because as this is an 'x reader' blog. Most if not all characters will be genshin characters simply because I know them better. If you have a character you want with a certain prompt, feel free to request it and I will write it when I get to it

if I am late some days please rest assured the fics will be uploaded eventually!

PRONOUNS: majority of my works will have no pronouns or gendered terms used for reader, if they are used they will be gender neutral or they/them. If you'd prefer she/her or he/him, there will be a link on the gn fics for both other options. If there is a specific set of pronouns you want me to use, i can edit upload another version with those pronouns, just let me know<3

Update (17th of Oct): whumptober is being put in hold temporarily, some things are going on and I can't really write atm. Everything will eventually be written by the end of October! Just a little delayed is all. Please be patient<3

Day 1: "how many fingers am I holding up?" with Albedo from Genshin impact [Here!]

Day 2: "They don't care about you" with Alhaitham from Genshin impact [Here!]

Day 3: "Make it stop" with Xiao from Genshin impact [Here!]

Day 4: "I see the danger, it's written there in your eyes" with Beidou from Genshin impact [Here!]

Day 5: Debris with Wanderer from Genshin impact [Here!]

Day 6: Made to watch with Kaveh from Genshin impact [Here!]

Day 7: "Can you hear me?" with Kokomi from Genshin impacy [Here!]

Day 8: "It's all for nothing" with Abyss!Aether from Genshin impact [Here!]

Day 9: "You're a liar" with Brother!Kaeya (and brother!Diluc) from Genshin impact [Here!]

Day 10: "You said you'd never leave" with brother!Bennet from Genshin impact [Here!]

Day 11: "No one will find you" with Cyno from Genshin impact [Here!]

Day 12: "I haven't slept in days, but who's counting?" with Freminet from Genshin impact [Here!]

Day 13: "I don't feel so good" with Tighnari from Genshin impact [Here!]

Day 14: "Just hold on" with Heizou from Genshin impact [Here!]

Day 15: "I don't need you to help me, I can handle things myself" with Ayato from Genshin impact [on hold]

Day 16: "Don't go where I can't follow" with Lyney from Genshin impact [on hold]

Day 17: "Leave me alone!" with brother!Mika from Genshin impact [On hold]

Day 18: Blindfold/tortured for information with Venti from Genshin impact [on hold]

Day 19: "I'll take one final step, all you have to do is make me" with Ningguang from Genshin impact [on hold]

Day 20: "You will regret touching them"/found family with Siblings!Bennet, Razor and Fischl from Genshin impact [in progress]

Day 21: "Don't move" with Kazuha from Genshin impact [in progress]

Day 22: "Watch out!" with Neuvillette from Genshin impact [in prohress]

Day 23: "Who's there?" with Childe from Genshin impact [in progress]

Day 24: Neglect with Aether from Genshin impact [in progress]

Day 25: "They're not breathing!" with Cyno from Genshin impact [in progress]

Day 26: "You look awful" with sibling!Chongyun from Genshin impact [in progress]

Day 27: "Let me see" with Xiao from Genshin impact [in progress]

Day 28: "You'll have to go through me" with Lynette from Genshin impact [in progress]

Day 29: "I only sink deeper the deeper I think" with Baizhu from Genshin impact [in progress]

Day 30: "It's ok to say 'I'm not ok'" with Lyney from Genshin impact [in progress]

Day 31: "Take it easy" with Aether from Genshin impact [in progress]

If there are prompts you want to see with certain characters send a request and ill write something for them and add it to the masterlist<3

masterlist will be updated as I make the posts!

last update: 14th of october 2023, 10:53pm (AEST)

[schrodingers-romy]

Sponsor a WIP for Gaza

Hello! I don't know how this is going to go, or if anyone's interested, but I have decided to contribute to @ficsforgaza's fundraising for Gaza via the Sponsor a WIP option. Please make sure to check the lists of wonderful writers and other fan creators who are participating on that blog, in case you would like to sponsor one of their WIPs, or request something from them! More info below the cut <3

♡ How it Works

For every $1 donated to a vetted fundraiser, I will write 100 words of a WIP listed below.

What you do:

Once you have made your donation, please send me a screenshot of that donation (with any personal info censored) via DM or ask (off-anon), and tell me which WIP you would like to sponsor. (Note: these asks will not be answered publicly).

What I do:

This page will be updated to indicate the new sponsored word count, as per your sponsorship, at the rate of 100 words per $1 donation. Note that my progress will be logged in this post but the fic will not be released until it is completed.

I will also submit your redacted donation to the ficsforgaza blog as proof; this is to prevent 'scamming' in the form of one person sending the same donation to multiple people.

♡ WIP List

Note: This page may be subject to additions or changes later on, but any sponsorships will be fulfilled. All estimated final word counts are estimates, therefore they are subject to change.

♡ Ghost!Nanami Kento x Reader

GN!AFAB!Reader; some smut; fluff and angst; horror elements

There are many rumors surrounding the old, neglected house you moved into. Supernatural rumors. Despite your skepticism, strange occurrences lead you to believe that there may, in fact, be unexplainable presences in your home. Some, more trustworthy than others...

Estimated word count: around 8k Current word count: 635 Donated word count: 0

♡ Werewolf!Kakashi x Werewolf!Obito x Reader

GN!AFAB!Reader; some light angst; fluff; past relationships; pining; established relationship; getting together; smut; knotting; mating; threesomes

Both you and your husband Kakashi believe Kakashi's old mate, Obito, is dead. When Obito turns up changed but alive, you realize Kakashi never fell out of love with him...and despite some of your misgivings, you are falling for him too.

Estimated word count: around 7k Current word count: 700 Donated word count: 2500! (0 written so far)

♡ Neighbor! Big Brother Choso x Reader [FUNDED ✔]

GN!Reader; sfw fluff; mutual pining; getting together; feat. cute toddler Yuuji

Your handsome new neighbor and his adorable little brother have wormed their way into your life and your heart.

Estimated word count: around 3-4k Current word count: 2,139 Donated word count: 1500! (0 written so far)

♡ Dragon!Mitsuya Takashi x Reader

GN!Reader; dragon shifter Mitsuya; possible smut; other tags to come

You are the first sacrifice to the Dragon in decades; you don't know which is worse: the possibility of dying of exposure on the mountain, or being consumed by a mythical beast. Luckily for you, the dragon is not looking for its next meal...in fact, he is looking for the ideal muse, and you are perfect for the job.

Estimated word count: around 5k Current word count: 100 Donated word count: 500 (0 written)

[yoonia]

The Bedroom Hymns | myg ● fic teaser

⟶ Summary | Being the only daughter of the Wicked King has kept you living in a sheltered life. Never once were you given the chance to see the world beyond the walls of your father’s old castle, and yet, it had never stopped you from hearing all the dark rumours of your father’s indiscretions which had left you to continue living in the shadows.

When the day comes for your father to send you to live in his castle by the sea, he leaves you with a new rule set in place. You are left with a set of keys, one which would lead you to travel through the thousand magical doors inside his castle, but you are to never leave through the front door or to step foot through the golden door at the end of the hall. The magical doors become your escape, giving you the chance to see the world that you had never seen before. Until one day, your life changes as one of the magical doors leads you to the Fairy Prince.

⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns; a Bluebeard Retelling ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Princess!reader, Strangers to Lovers au, Fantasy au, Fairy Tale Retelling au ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; nothing yet for this teaser, but I will add warnings as I continue writing this ⟶ Estimated word count | 40k words ⟶ Teaser word count | 2,1k words

⏤ Written for the Once Upon A Fantasy collab

⟶ Author’s note | As the result of my latest poll, you have chosen for me to finish this story first out of the rest of my April WIPs. Thank you so much for everyone who voted! If you are interested to join my fic taglist, please enter your information here. If you are only interested to be tagged on this fic, please only enter your url in the replies.

𝕺𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖚𝖕𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊, 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝕱𝖆𝖗 𝕱𝖆𝖗 𝕬𝖜𝖆𝖞…

Stargrave castle.

The castle with 1000 doors which was built right on the top of the Earthpeak cliff, the ocean edge of the Nythelean Empire’s territory. You have learned a little about this castle on the morning you first arrived, under the guidance of Lord Gordan, the royal advisor working for your father, King Aneas.

You have only been here for less than a week, and you know for sure that you still have much to learn about this castle. The place that is to become your new home. It still feels foreign to roam through the hallways, and you constantly find yourself being amazed at how expansive this place is compared to the manor you have been residing in since your childhood.

No, this castle was said to be your real home.

Your father himself had said so. This is the place where you were born. The place where you had once lived peacefully and happily with your father and mother together, before the Queen tragically passed and you were taken away while you were still a young, helpless child. This is the place that holds the old scars and the wounds that your father must carry with him for many years until he lost all of his happiness and his warm smile.

No wonder he kept you away from this place for so long.

The darkness terrifies you when you try to step out of your bed chamber at nightfall. The long corridors feel like a maze, with numerous doors and several open galleries welcoming you whenever you get lost on your way. Oftentimes, you only feel safe when you are in your private chamber, or when you are having your high tea with Nanny Abigail in the garden, where you would find yourself wasting time until the sun sets each day. There is never a day passed when you didn’t miss your old home, the Seacrest Manor. But as days continued to progress, you soon realise that if this is where you are to spend the rest of your life, you must soon make it your mission to make this place home.

Surely, it wouldn’t be such a hard task to do, would it?

Not with Lord Gordan and Nanny Abigail by your side to guide you through it. And now that you are finally back at the home castle, you will also have more time to spend together with your father compared to how it used to be before. That would certainly help you learn more about this place, about the home territory that you were never allowed to see, and maybe help fix the fragile bond you have between you and your father.

Or so you thought.

“I have to be away for at least six weeks. There are matters needed to be dealt with and it would be too taxing of a journey if you should join me,” your father suddenly announces on the first day of your second week of being home. “Make this castle your home the best you possibly can while I am away and enjoy yourself. You might need help to go around the castle in my absence, so here—”

You barely find the words to respond to him with when he suddenly grabs your hand and places a heavy set of keys right at the center of your palm.

“Here are the keys to various rooms within the castle. As you may have noticed, we have many doors right here at the home castle that has been kept locked because I am always away and you haven’t been back home, and I am the only person who has the access to each of them. Now, you will have the ability to open them all by using these keys.”

You keep your eyes on the keys in your hand, studying them closely with pure interest as your father explains this. Varied in colours, sizes, and materials, they look nothing at all like any set of keys that you would normally see for regular houses or manors. Not even your old home. Your father falls silent for a moment before he continues to explain what the keys are for, his small smile is hidden while you are not paying attention to his face, but simply to his voice.

“These are the keys to the storerooms; where I keep my best furniture and gifts from the many Kingdoms I have visited,” he says as he picks the ones made of brass from the bunch. “Make use of them as much as you need. You can also bring some of them to fancy your bed chamber should you need any changes to be done and make your stay comfortable.”

Hearing this only excites you. For days, you have been thinking of how plain and boring your new bed chamber is, and have been wishing that you were able to take some of your old belongings to fill your room with. Your father seems to be pleased to see your reaction, and continues by pointing at the slightly smaller-looking keys which seem to be made of bronze.

“These are the keys to the treasure rooms; where you can find all the silver and gold plates that I have gathered through my journeys, the casket of jewels which are part of our family treasure, and the safe where I keep all the money which belongs to the family,” he explains, while you are left speechless at how easy he is to hand over such a huge responsibility onto you. As if sensing your doubt, your father raises your chin so he can look at you straight in the eyes and say, “You are free to use them all to fill your needs, as long as you use them wisely while I am gone.”

You swallow hard and nod. There is something in his stern voice that demands your attention, letting you know that there is an underlying threat hidden in his warning, that you have no other choice but to pledge, “I will be responsible for them, Father. I promise.”

“Good. I have faith in you, Princess,” he says, sounding relieved but still cautious, and then he looks down at the keys to point at the pair that looks slightly bigger than the rest. “Now, this is the master key to all the private chambers, including yours and mine. You can use my room or my study should you need them. And this one will take you to the main library. I know that you love your books, and you shall find everything you may ever need to learn more about this land.”

Hearing about the library, all of the disappointment you felt about your father being gone begins to shift, and you start feeling a semblance of hope. If you cannot earn the information that you needed from your own father, perhaps you would be able to find your answers among the books in the library. Maybe you can also learn more about this realm, and how your father’s empire somehow exists between the two realms—the human realm, and the magical realm within the land Far Far Away.

Still with your eyes on the keys, your attention is drawn towards a pair of keys that seem to sparkle brighter from the others, calling for your attention. You look at them both with awe, amused by how magic seems to appear even in the smallest things you can find in this realm. Just like the keys you are holding in your hand.

You study those keys closely without saying a word, marvelling at each detail. One key is made of silver, while the other from gold. Both of them are glowing brightly and are nearly humming with an enticing aura as if they are made with enchantment. It makes it hard for you to look away, as if you are completely drawn to them, unable to ignore their presence and their calling.

“What about these keys, Father?” you question your father when your curiosity gets the best of you.

King Aneas leans closer just to have a better look, even if it is quite obvious that he could already tell which keys you were referring to. With gentle fingers, he pulls the silver one from its bunch. “This silver key will take you through the doors with the silver embellishments. Those doors you may enter, but only under a few specific rules.”

For some reason, his voice sounds ominous as he explains this. You look at him curiously, wondering why this key demands certain rules to be followed, unlike the others. Looking at your father’s face helps only a little to reassure you, as his face is completely stern when he begins to explain,

“Beyond the silver doors lies a strong kind of magic. One that has been so demanding of our family’s powers, and also the type of magic that should be kept secret, no matter what. Once you go through them, you will understand why it is important for me to defend this castle and our home territory.”

As you listen to his explanation about the silver doors and the magic behind them, your curiosity grows stronger. Living in the Seacrest Manor has kept you from learning anything about magic, and now that you are suddenly thrust into the place where magic seems to thrive, you feel eager to learn and experience them yourself to understand everything better. And that curiosity strengthens once your father continues to give you the rules that you must follow,

“You are free to visit each of these silver doors only for one visit each day. You must make sure that you will never remain on the other side of the door of your choice for more than six hours and you must always, always, only return home by going through that very same door you came from. Can you remember this?”

Suppressing your eagerness so as not to make him worry, you simply nod and promise, “Yes, I will remember,” while making sure to remember every detail, every warning, so you wouldn’t make any mistake to disappoint him in the future.

Just as your hope of learning new magic arises, the golden key begins to vibrate in your hand, calling for your attention. Noticing where your eyes are drawn towards, your father’s expression turns grim.

“This golden key—” he says, gently lifting the key from the bundle as he tells you more about it, “—will allow you to open the twin doors at the end of the great gallery on the top floor of the South tower.”

Your eyes grow wide with interest, recalling the night you first arrived at the castle and how the South Tower seemed to be calling your name. You feel the curiosity building, your eagerness to venture to the hidden parts of the castle rising, only to deflate when your father says,

“This one, I must forbid you to use.”

You stifle a gasp and question him. “But why, Father?”

Your father’s expression grows even darker once he takes notice of your interest in the golden door. He places both of his hands on your shoulders before you can ask more. “Never open the golden doors. Never walk past it, and never look what is inside,” he demands with a voice that comes out as a warning, before he softens and begs you, “Princess, I need you to promise me.”

Once again, you are left speechless. Baffled by his demands, yet his voice leaves you no chance to argue that you can only give in and say, “Yes, I promise.”

The King remains silent for a brief moment, as if he is trying to read your thoughts, wondering if you are hiding any intentions of defying him. But then he sighs, and your father finally lets you go with a reassuring nod.

“Good. Make sure never to forget this. Oh, and there is one more thing that you must always remember—” he quickly adds before you can say anything. “You are free to roam about through these doors — of course, except for the golden doors — but you are not to leave this castle by stepping out through the great door at the front gate. Not when I am not around, and never without a guard.”

You find this instruction quite odd. Just as odd as his rules and warnings regarding the magic doors, but you dare not to question him, understanding how little your knowledge of magic is to begin with to help you argue against his demands. So you put all of your curiosity aside, choosing to gain his trust and confidence as you promise him,

“I’ll remember.”

⟶ Estimated posting date | TBA; (hopefully) by the end of April 2023

— © 2023 @yoonia​, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[violetsiren90]

All I Haven't Said | Namjoon/Reader

💜 Chapter 3: Part 2 💜

Table of Contents: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (part 1), Chapter 3 (part 2)

Pairing: idol!Namjoon/f!Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU; idol AU; chapter fic; strangers to lovers; a bit of idiots to lovers, tbh; slow burn; eventual romance; eventual smut; angst (life is messy & hearts are complex); OT7 featured

Summary: You found your soulmate - or rather, he found you. Turns out he's an idol of much acclaim who needs you for very real and unglamorous reasons. What could become of two hearts so used to giving of themselves when they are confronted with needing each other?

Chapter Word Count: ~7k

Chapter Warnings: This fic is 18+, as is all my work and my page as a whole; depictions of cancer and its treatment; secondhand embarrassment; awkward situations; soulmate skinship; loss of consciousness; dudes dude-broing a bit lol; mentions of minor character death (in past); cursing; chemo therapy and its symptoms; nausea and vomiting; characters eat meals; Reader is starting to grapple with some difficult feelings; Hybe kinda sorta depicted as being collective assholes in responding to this situation (gonna be a theme, guys)

Author's Note: Here comes part two! I know this is months coming (again), but I've finally found my stride with writing and work. I had this mostly done, and then redid some parts and finished editing, and well...I just hope you all enjoy it! My hope is to post part three in two weeks - I really want to get into a groove with plot progression here!

There is a lot of content in this chapter about medical procedures and treatment. I tried my best to represent these as accurately as possible with what information I could acquire, but if there are any misrepresentations, great or small, please don't hesitate to let me know!

Thank you again to all who have stuck with this story! I continue to be blown away by how much love you have all showered upon it, and I'm so excited to walk the path I intend for these two and have you all along for the ride!!

P.S. If you want to join the tag list, drop me a comment or an ask!

P.P.S. If no one has told you yet today, you're loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

"Out of sheer taciturnity the ceiling listens To the fall of ancient leafless rain, To feathers, to whatever the night imprisoned." ~Pablo Neruda

Chapter 3: My Windows Ache

Namjoon's labs had come back with even more promising numbers. A radiology scan had shown no shrinkage in his tumors, but the doctors commented that these were early days, and that the effects of the bond might even be keeping them from inflaming due to the chemo. You had watched him, smiling as the doctor reviewed the result, and couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Your soulmate was on the road to recovery. 

     Nurse Cha quickly checked both of you over before initiating another skinship session.

     "I saw you out on the grounds earlier, and for the first time in weeks," she said, shooting Namjoon an approving grin. "Keep that up. He needs sunlight and fresh air," she remarked to you, flustering you even as you nodded in agreement.

     Why was she telling you that? Were you his keeper?

     Actually, you supposed, in fact, you were.

     You peeked back up at him and found him regarding you with a small, amused smile, which disconcerted you further. You shook your head, shooting him an eye-roll as you made your way into the bathroom to disrobe.

     After your first few experiences with skinship, you had asked Matt to acquire you some sporty, conservative sports bra and boy-short sets, and you slipped into one, pulling a hospital gown over it. After the way your conversation with Hyung-seo had unfolded you were glad to have them - the practical underwear felt far less intimate and flirty than your typical bras and panties, giving you much more peace of mind. 

     As you left the bathroom and made your way back to Namjoon's half of the suite, you noticed him sitting on top of the covers, long legs stretched out in front of him, in nothing but a black tee and blue boxers. He had a drip attached to a tube that ran under his shirt. When Nurse Cha glanced up from her touchscreen tablet to see you approaching, she waved her hand for you to come around to the other side of the bed, which had been adjusted to accommodate Namjoon's upright position.

     "We’re going to try this sitting up today," she explained as she typed. "He's on a chemo drip right now, and the doctor wants to see if the bond will help ease the nausea and some of the other side effects. I heard you just had a nice lunch, so it would be wonderful if Namjoon could hang onto his."

     She shot him a rueful smirk and he let out a chuckle. You smiled in turn and nodded as you slipped off your hospital gown and draped it over the end of the bed. You glanced up at Namjoon who had cast his eyes down at his hands, folded in his lap. The huge apparatus was lower than usual, so you slipped rather easily into it and against Namjoon's side. He raised an arm to drape over your shoulders and you settled against him, pressing your bare leg against his. It was comical how much shorter yours were, but you could only think of that for a fraction of a second as every other thought in your mind melted at the feeling of the man beside you.

     Butter. Warm, melted butter. It was as if every single muscle group in your body had suddenly released every bit of tension it had been holding. So many sensations at once, but this was the one you felt like leaning into at the moment. You felt like collapsing against him.

He sighed deeply through his nose. Yeah, you felt that on a spiritual level. Mmh. 

     Your melty, bond-induced reverie was broken, however, by a dissatisfied noise from Nurse Cha as she stepped toward the bed. You looked up to find her expression matched her tone. 

     "You're not really getting much contact," she said, scanning her eyes over everywhere you touched...and didn't. 

     You raised your arms slightly and a bit uselessly. You felt Namjoon lean forward.

     "Should I...like..." you looked to her for direction, but she was already in motion. 

     She grabbed your arm, guiding you off the bed and motioned for Namjoon to scoot back to the middle. She said something to Namjoon in Korean and suddenly he was tugging his shirt over his head. You felt your cheeks getting hot. Social norms had not prepared you for this amount of casual nudity. You stood there, eyes glued to Nurse Cha, hugging your arms over your middle and hoping that Namjoon was playing his usual blessed game of "look anywhere but soulmate". The nurse took your arm again and guided you back toward your previous perch.

     "Sit between his legs and lean back against his chest," she instructed, nudging you to join him.

You looked up at Namjoon. His face looked like you felt. And then it was just too much. You were standing in a hospital in South Korea in your underwear being asked to sit in a practically naked celebrity's lap so that he wouldn't die.

     You busted out laughing.

     Nurse Cha jumped, surprise clear in her features as she regarded you. 

     "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You gasped, bending over to support yourself against the bed as you continued to chuckle, "This is just..."

     You snorted. Mortified but still attempting to swallow your giggles you clapped a hand over your mouth and looked up at Namjoon whose dimples were out and whose shoulders were shaking with his own silent amusement. Nurse Cha's lips curved up a bit to one side, but her narrowed eyes spoke of far less hilarity felt.

     "Here's the thing," you said, turning to the nurse while still biting back your laughter, "Namjoon is spoken for, and...well...I have a pretty nice ass."

     The nurse's eyes widened.

     You were probably being really impolite. That would have been borderline in the States. You weren't sure about here, but you felt like that might have broken some unspoken rules. Or, maybe spoken ones because there were a lot of formalities, you were learning. But you had reached your limit with all this. The awkwardness levels were at maximum, and you were gonna cope the only way you knew how - with humor.

     When you hazarded a look at your soulmate, he had drawn his knees up, grabbing them with his hands, his head dropped between them and his shoulders shaking as he badly repressed laughter of his own. You could see those dimples again. They were even deeper than before.

     "We need to get maximum skin-to-skin contact during these sessions," Nurse Cha insisted indignantly, clearly a bit flustered. 

     "I know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you offered her a contrite smile as you rocked back on your feet. 

     "Ah!" Namjoon drew your attention as he pointed behind you. "Throw me that pillow?" 

     You grabbed the little green cushion from the corner of the couch and tossed it to him. He lowered his legs and placed it over his lap.

     "How's that?" he asked with a closed-lip smirk.

     You gave him a thumbs up and clambered back onto the bed to situate yourself between his legs. You looked back over at Nurse Cha. 

     "Better?" 

     She raised a brow as she handed you a blanket. You thanked her quietly and cleared your throat as you fanned it out over your legs and Namjoon's, tucking it up to your waist. The nurse checked Namjoon's vitals and said that she would return in an hour to take him off the drip.

     You sank back tentatively against your soulmate's chest, careful to avoid the little port below his sternum. There it was again. Butter.

     Somewhere above and behind you, Namjoon chuckled. You smiled knowingly.

     "What?" you asked indignantly.

     "Did you see her face when you said that?"

     You shrugged against him.

     "Hey, it's true!" you insisted.

     "Sorry if this is uncomfortable for you," he murmured.

     You could hear that he was still smiling, but he sounded serious all the same. You let your head fall back.

     "Honestly, I felt bad for you," you huffed in another laugh before sobering. "And, thank you," you turned, casting your eyes up over your shoulder, "For always being so respectful. It's made this a lot easier."

     "Oh," Namjoon responded softly, "Of course." 

     You looked at his arms resting at his sides and thought of what Nurse Cha had said. You slowly picked up his hands in yours, raising them slightly.

     "May I put them around me? For more contact," you asked.

     You asked it boldly, but you felt shy. You wanted the chemo to work. You wanted it to stop hurting him while it did. When Namjoon let out a low hum of assent you drew his forearms around your waist and laid your own over them.

     Your eyes slipped shut. So euphoric but it always made you feel like sleeping. You weren't going to give into the urge, though, not just yet. There were conversations to be had.

     "Tell me about Hyung-seo," you prompted softly, shifting against him to get comfortable. 

     He was quiet for a moment.

     "Well," he responded slowly, "what do you want to know?"

     "How did you meet her?"

     He went quiet again. Then he sighed a small sigh. You wondered what that little breath carried.

     "She debuted in 2019. A buddy of mine - Seo Jungkwon, he goes by Tiger JK in the industry -  had signed her to his agency. Bangtan was just taking off, things were blowing up. I actually collaborated with him which is when I met her."

     He silenced for a moment.

     "We had a lot in common - how we approached life and music."

     "Had?" you asked, gently.

     He heaved another sigh. 

     "The last few years have been really tough on her. I mean, she hasn't had an easy life to begin with, but..."

     He paused, as if deciding whether or not to utter the words he wanted to say next.

     "Anyway," he redirected himself, and you wondered what thought he had dismissed, "Preparing for a tour is grueling, and this is her first one. I think the stress is really getting her."

     You hummed in acknowledgement. You recognized it in his voice - you should after all, as the same sound had echoed so often in your own - the hollow clemency of lying to yourself on someone else's behalf. 

     "Well," you offered, "She's lucky to have you supporting her, especially when you're going through such a difficult time yourself."

     Namjoon scoffed.

     "I mean, yeah, I'm sick, but...I don't know. In a lot of ways my life has been a lot easier these days. A lot simpler."

     "Really? In what way?"

     He huffed out a wry laugh.

     "I have so much time to just do whatever. Read, write...I've been learning a couple of languages. I get to do v-lives with ARMY pretty regularly, as the company allows - Jungkook went kind of crazy with it before enlistment so we have to go through them for access now."

     You had no idea what a v-live was, but from what little you had seen of Jungkook, you could imagine it took very little for him to get up to a significant amount of shenanigans. You smirked.

     "Did you have so little time for those things before?" you queried.

     "No! No way. It was like running non-stop for ten years. During my time in the military, I got a bit of a break and a change, but then I got sick and had to be discharged early, so...well, I didn't even get to experience that like I should have."

     You felt your hands tighten in response around his forearms. His life hadn't been cake-walk either, that was clear. You wondered if he knew that, if he acknowledged it.

     "Well, I'm glad you have more time for those things. You should keep as much time for them as you can, even when you're better."

     He paused for a moment before whispering agreement into your hair. You felt it even though he didn't say it, the caveat - if he got better. He would. You'd never make him a promise you couldn't guarantee, but you could make one to yourself. So you did.

     For the rest of the session you talked about Bangtan, and the recent history of the group's situation.

     You learned about conscription and that it applied to idols as well. You learned the members had decided to enlist pretty much around the same time so that they could reunite to tour again after being discharged. Namjoon had been released ahead of schedule when he had fallen ill, and at this point most of the members had followed, save Yoongi who was set to be discharged the following week. He fondly reported that they were all anxious to meet you, and that Jungkook and Jimin hadn't stopped pestering him with all manner of questions in your regard since their visit the previous day.

     Every time you had heard him speak about his members, the deep brotherly affection that permeated his words was incredibly evident. 

You asked him to tell you about each one, and he did.

     You blinked your eyes open as you felt Namjoon shift you in his arms. You slowly pulled yourself forward, struggling to focus.

     "I...I'm sorry," you murmured, "I fell asleep on you again." 

     Namjoon chuckled and assured you it was quite alright. As you wearily slipped off the mattress to stand, you suddenly felt the room tilt and your knees buckle. Namjoon's reflexes were quick enough to catch you in his arms. He stood to pull you up and hold you against him.

     "You okay?" he asked in concern.

     "I...I got dizzy..."

     You attempted to put your weight into your legs, but failed, sagging weakly against his broad frame.

     Nurse Cha was already in motion.

     "Help her to the bed," she ordered, striding across the room. 

     Namjoon wasted no time in scooping you up in a bridal carry to follow her. You gasped despite yourself, the sudden movement and his strength equally surprising. But every thought was fleeting as you found yourself struggling to maintain a grip on consciousness.

     You felt Namjoon lay you gently on the bed as cold, sticky monitors were pressed to your skin; heard him ask the nurse what was the matter, his voice tinged with anxiety. 

You heard him say your name.

     And then you heard nothing.

     You groaned as you came to. Your throat felt like the Sahara and your head was pounding. Pushing yourself to sit up, you became aware of the sound of voices on the other side of the curtain. Carefully drawing your legs to the edge of the bed, you clutched your IV stand as you struggled to your feet.

     Pulling back the hanging divider, you were surprised to see Matt occupying the little couch, a cup of coffee on the low table in front of him. Namjoon sat in the opposing chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees in rapt attention as the older man spoke. It was dark out.

     "Matt," you croaked, shuffling forward.

     Namjoon's head whipped around at the sound of your voice and he sprang up, just a moment faster than his guest, striding over to take you by the arm. You faltered just a moment in your steps as his hand cradled your elbow and you felt it - his touch and what it did to you. You wanted to curl into him. You wanted him to hold you.

You gently tugged your arm away.

     "You're awake - let me call the nurse," he said, almost to himself as he moved to press the red call button. 

     You sank down beside Matt.

     "What time is it?" you asked in a husky murmur. Your friend checked his watch.

     "1:33am."

     You frowned, blinking blearily.

     "What the heck are you doing here at the hour?"

     "Well!" Matt laughed before taking a sip of his coffee, "It's nice to see you too."

     "You know what I mean..." you grumbled, rubbing your eyes.

     "He called me," he said, gesturing with his raised mug toward Namjoon, who had returned to the armchair. "Said you'd had a fainting spell."

     Your eyes followed his motion to your soulmate, who was already scanning his over you, brow furrowed and full lips pursed pensively.

     "How are you feeling?" Namjoon asked.

     You huffed out a mirthless chuckle.

     "Like I got hit by a freight train."

     The worry lines on his brow deepened.

     "Hey, look..." you held up a hand to wave it weakly between both men as they regarded you in apparent concern. "I'm probably just adjusting to the bond or something. Cancer isn't contagious, you know," you ribbed, shooting a tiny smirk at Namjoon who attempted to return the expression though the smile didn't reach his eyes.

     The night shift nurse and an aid entered the room to assess you. Namjoon asked to speak with a doctor, and was told that Dr. Na would be checking in first thing in the morning. The nurse had very little else to report other than that your blood work had been sent to the lab and that they would be able to determine more once your results were available. He informed Matt that some charts would likely be available in twenty-four hours, but that your CMP could take up to three days. The aid urged you to try to get some more rest. Before departing, the nurse removed your spent sodium chloride drip and said that a meal would be sent up which you were advised to eat if possible, but to be sure to report any signs of food-rejection should they appear.

     Namjoon stood and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he gazed at your little portion of the suit.

     "They want you to rest, but how the hell are you supposed to sleep with me over here snoring? It's keeping you up, right?"

     You smirked.

     "Well, most of my rest over the last couple of days has been due to a lack of consciousness, but I do have to admit that you woke me up a couple of times last night."

    Namjoon groaned discomfitedly.

     "It really isn't a big deal!" you reassured him, "I'm a pretty sound sleeper."

     "And still I woke you up."

     "Don't worry about it..."

     "It's not just that, though," he insisted, hands in the pockets of his sweats and head cocked to one side as he continued to consider the small space across from his. "You don't even have a window. If you want privacy, you have to sit behind that curtain in the tiny bed -- I hate it. I've hated it since they were first preparing for you to arrive. I'll make some calls tomorrow. You need your own room," he stated decidedly, returning to the chair across from you.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he fired off a message.

     Namjoon did have a point, it was a pretty meager space you currently occupied. But they must have had a reason, you thought, for wanting you to share a room with him. And you didn't want to cause any kind of fuss in the name of personal convenience that might detract from his treatment or recovery. 

     "Namjoon, it's fine..."

     He looked up at you, his brown eyes assured and determined.

     "Just let me handle it. I've got you."

     A sudden warmth spread through your chest like the rising sun on the frost of your anxieties, his gaze melting away the familiar worry of burdensomeness. You looked away shyly.

     "Good man," Matt said to him with a nod, and they shared a look as your soulmate nodded in return that seemed to be one of mutual masculine respect. You wanted to roll your eyes a little bit. You also felt pretty damn grateful.

     Matt stood to leave, pressing a kiss on your temple and promised that he'd return in the morning. He paused to shake Namjoon's hand.

     "If there are any further developments, don't hesitate to call me," he said, to which the younger man nodded in agreement.

     "Or I can call you!" you rasped after him as he raised his hand in one last gesture of farewell while shutting the door.

     You huffed.

     "Smart guy," Namjoon remarked, sitting back down in his chair. "You know he's read Toegye exhaustively?"

     You raised a brow at him, your lips quirking with a wry grin.

     "Two peas in a pod. He's probably going to be coming around here nonstop until he leaves just so you two can gab in genius."

     Namjoon smiled and touched his fingers absently to his jaw, his eyes trained on the linoleum.

     "Are you bothered that I called him?" he asked abruptly, glancing up at you.

     "What? No, of course not," you reassured him with a shake of your head. "I just..." You rolled your eyes and smirked. "I'm not used to sitting around while boys decide what's best for me."

     "Aaahhh," Namjoon responded with a nod, interlacing his fingers, "Well, you've been looking out for me since you walked through that door back there, and honestly, I could get used to that..." he leaned forward a bit, "But only if I get to return the favor. You said we don't owe each other, but that doesn't mean you get to be the only one doing the giving."

     You stared at him. The only one to do the giving. The words jarred something loose inside you. You swallowed the strange feeling that threatened to well into your throat.

     Before you could respond, an aid entered with your meal. A tray loaded with dakjuk, rice, and several banchan was placed before you. It smelled fantastic, and you actually felt you could eat. You moved to take the tray to your side of the suite but Namjoon stopped you.

"Hey, wait. I'm hungry. I'll eat with you."

He crossed to the other side of the room to pick up the telephone.

"Go ahead," he said with nod of his head a little grin, "Don't wait on me."

     He didn't have to twist your arm. The chicken porridge was steaming and savory, warming you up within just a few bites. A similar tray soon arrived for Namjoon, and you found it did feel far nicer to eat with someone than alone.

     Between bites he asked you about Matt.

     "He's my dad's best friend. When he died - my dad - Matt and his wife Rebecca helped to take care of us for a while. They've been really good to my family."

     Namjoon's face sombered.

     "I'm sorry about your father."

     You smiled softly at him.

     "It was a long time ago, when I was ten. He was a firefighter."

     He nodded quietly, giving you the opening to continue. You decided to take it.

     "A fire broke out at a high-security prison. The situation got really bad with a lot of people still inside - prisoners. They told the team to stop attempting rescues, that it wasn't worth it, for people like that. But my dad kept going. Alone. He saved seventeen more lives before...well, he couldn't make it out."

     When you looked up at Namjoon again his eyes were locked on you, his chopsticks resting idly in his hand.

     "Wow," he murmured after a pause. "And you were ten years old? That must have been so hard."

     You dragged your spoon through your dakjuk.

     "It was. But managing things after he was gone...that was harder, I think."

     Namjoon's brow knit in question but he didn't press you further. For the second time that night, you were grateful. Death was easy to explain, other things were much more difficult.

     You finished the rest of your meal chatting about Matt, Neo-Confucianism, and unequivocal humanism between mouthfuls of rice and porridge.

      The next day, you were moved into your new suite a few doors down. Namjoon had received no resistance from the hospital in procuring you the space, as apparently Hybe's representatives had been the ones to originate the request that you be at the idol's immediate disposal.

     Your room mirrored the setup of your soulmate's, being on the same floor but across the hall, and Kang Dae had dropped in with a catalog stating that you could select whatever you wished to make the space more comfortable. You had circled a few things and he had departed to procure them. Matt had brought the bulk of your luggage, which meant a good portion of books, your art supplies, and finally more clothes which you would blessedly now have no worries of mixing up with Namjoon's. You changed into jeans and a comfy Nirvana graphic tee.

     You were busy unpacking when a knock came at your door. You called for the person to come in while you continued to stack books onto a small set of shelves. The doctor had cautioned you and Namjoon against further skinship sessions until your blood work had come back, so you were anxious for the results, not wanting him to go through another bout of chemo without the aid of the bond. 

When you glanced up expectantly, however, you found your curiosity would have to wait - at least, concerning your charts - as in the entry stood none other than Kim Hyung-seo.

     She lingered in the entryway at the mouth of the space, her arms wrapped around her middle. She looked much more casual today in a pair of big baggy camouflage cargo pants, a tight black crop top, and chunky white sneakers. Her hair was pulled up into a bun, and she had black mask pulled under her chin. She was bare-faced, save for two small red dots under her right eye.

     You stood from your crouched position, trying your best to keep the surprise from your face.

     "Hi," you greeted her with a small smile, which she returned remorsefully, still hugging herself as she glanced around the room. "Would you like to sit down?" you offered, motioning to the furniture beside you. 

     She nodded, crossing over to take a seat in the little arm chair. You moved to sit across from her. Your first instinct was to offer her something to drink, only to realize you were in a hospital room with no way to deliver, at which you both laughed awkwardly. After a moment of tense silence, she looked up at you, gnawing her bottom lip.

     “I owe you an apology," she sighed. 

You gave her an encouraging smile.

     "Fuck..." she dropped her head in her hands, and you waited for her to collect herself. Finally, she raises her eyes to yours, interlacing her fingers with their long white nails in her lap. 

     "What I did...what I said yesterday...I was cunt. I'm sorry." 

     You let out a little laugh at her choice of words.

     "Well, I do accept your apology...but, don't be too hard on yourself. It was a really bizarre and unprecedented situation for all of us. I'm glad we're moving forward, and in a better direction."

You smiled again at her reassuringly.

     She nodded, her lips pursed and quivering slightly. You could tell she was blinking back tears.

     "Me and Joon...we'd only been engaged for a few weeks before we found out...you know, that he had a match. That it could be his only option to live - bonding. With you. It's just all really fucking scary."

     You nodded sympathetically. She released another sigh as she continued.

     "He had to decide so fast, they pushed him to just make this huge life commitment as fast as they fucking could and now..." She raised her arms, looking around the room in resign, "Here we are. And we have to figure everything out, and I'm about to leave and..."

     "I'm sorry," you murmured sympathetically.

She looked down into her lap, worry still twisting her features.

You wondered why she was leaving, now of all times - when things were the way they were. But that wasn't for you to judge.

"You know," you offered hopefully, "At least he's on the mend. At least you know he'll have someone to look after him."

     She hummed. You wondered if it was an agreement as her eyes flitted over your face searchingly. Anxiety from the previous day's encounter began to seep into your chest as you considered if you had chosen your words poorly. You had said what would have comforted you in under the same circumstances. But maybe you were different - too different.

You softened your heart, determined to reserve judgement. Life had given Hyung-seo had her own shoes, and you would do everything you could to understand what it was like to walk in them.

     "Can I add you on KakaoTalk?" you asked, realizing you were still clutching a book, and setting it onto the low table to pull your phone from your pocket.

     She was chewing on her lip again when you looked up. She stared down at the hardback. 

     "You read a lot, huh?" she asked, though it didn't sound like a question.

     "I do," you answered slowly, wondering where her train of thought was headed.

"All that stuff you said yesterday, you seem, like really in tune with people. And smart. You guys are, like, the same."

She pressed the words out in a strained voice. She looked so small and so sad. Your heart sank for her.

"Namjoon actually said that very thing about you yesterday."

She glanced up at you in surprise and confusion. You smiled.

"He said that when you met he was struck with how much you shared in how you saw the world, and how you approached music."

She regarded you silently as you continued.

"And that's your life right, your great love? Music? What a wonderful thing, to base your life with a partner in a love you share."

She nodded slowly, her eyes watering.

"Thank you," she finally whispered, and you nodded in understanding.

You reached out to take her hand and she squeezed yours. After a few moments of silence, she rose and wiped her eyes.

     "I'm leaving tomorrow and I want to see Joon again before I go," she explained. 

     You nodded.

     "Thank you for coming to talk to me and for sharing about how this has been for you. I really appreciate it."    

     She smiled - perhaps genuinely for the first time since you met. It was a lovely smile.

     You sighed as she left. It wasn't much, but it was progress. Maybe she would let you in. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard after all.

     When several hours had passed with no updates on your lab results, you decided to take a walk down the hall to see how your soulmate was faring. You knocked on his door, but received no answer. 

     "Namjoon!" you called softly with another rap of your knuckles, but were still met with silence.

     Just when you were about to turn and go, the door creaked inward on its hinges, slipping open to reveal your soulmate's tired face.

     "I just came to see how you were doing...are you okay?." 

     You followed him as he slumped back into the suite, but before he could even reach his bed he turned and pushed past you to hurry into the bathroom. It caught you a little off-guard and you stumbled, catching yourself on the opposing wall, but quickly realized the reason for his urgency when sounds of retching followed.

     The bathroom door was cracked open and you could see him hunched over the toilet, breathing heavily as his body wracked with each attempt to expel the contents of his stomach. You hesitated a moment, then pushed the door in slowly, coming to kneel beside him and gingerly place a hand on his back.

     He raised his head, eyes fluttering when you touched him. You gently pulled your palm up and down his spine, feeling the warm surge of the bond even through his shirt. He reached for a piece of toilet paper to wipe his mouth.

     "You don't have to do that..." he murmured, resting his forehead on his arm propped on the porcelain rim.

     "I know," you answered quietly, continuing to slowly rub his back. "Can I put my hand under your shirt?"

     "You're not supposed to be touching me until we know what's going on with you." 

     You slipped your other hand out to curl your fingers around his exposed bicep below the sleeve of his tee. He sighed, shoulders sagging as the comfort and warmth of the contact soothed his aching body.

     "Can I?" you softly persisted, and he nodded his head where it laid against his forearm.

     Slipping your hand beneath the baggy cotton you ran your fingers over his soft, taut skin, heart squeezing at the definition of his spine and the ghosts of his ribs. 

     "Did you do chemo without me?" you asked.

     “I've been doing it before you got here, you know,” he retorted weakly.

     "How are you supposed to gain weight if it makes you this sick? Please don't do it again without me."

     "You passed out, Y/n," he shifted his head to look at you.

     "We'll figure that out," you smiled, "But you need to be as agreeable to these treatments as possible, right?" 

     He nodded.

     "Hyung-seo paid me a visit this morning," you remarked after a moment of silence.

     "She told me."

     "Said she leaves for her tour tomorrow. When does she get back?"

     "February."

     "Of next year?" You paused to temper your shock, "That's a long time."

     "It's a world tour. That's how it goes."

     "Wow."

     You realized for the hundredth time in as many hours that there was so much about their lifestyle to which you were ignorant. You had so much to learn, but one thing you did know: he needed you right now, so you stayed by his side until the sickness had subsided.

     Nurse Cha arrived shortly after to conduct routine checks on Namjoon, and you sat by, thumbing through the latest issue of Batman and Robin which Matt had been kind enough to drop off with your things.

     "Your initial blood work came back with some concerns," she said, turning to you and picking up her tablet to access the results. "There are signs that your body's nutrients are being depleted. Since your fainting spells have been occuring during skinship, we ask that you refrain from touching until your CMP comes back."

     Namjoon glanced over at you, a chiding expression on his features. You flatly ignored him.

     "I need to be able to touch him, especially if he feels ill. He needs to keep down his food, right?"

     Nurse Cha hummed, pursing her lips.

     "Well, I'm going to run this by Dr. Na, but if absolutely necessary, keep it light and brief. And please be sure to document even the smallest instances of skinship so that we can track the effects."

     You agreed readily, and she left to continue her rounds. 

Glancing out the window, you noted that the evening was mild, and the gardens were aflutter with birds and awash in soft late-afternoon light. You thought about what the nurse had said before about the fresh air.

     "Hey," you remarked, still looking out the window, "We should take a walk - it looks so nice out. You up for it?" 

     "Great idea," he replied, joining you to look out across the greenery. "I'm definitely feeling up for it." He huffed out a little chuckle.

     "What?" you asked suspiciously. You were beginning to recognize his different laughs - this particular chuckle was always at your expense.

     "Gonna keep pushing it with the poor nurse, huh?"

     You scoffed.

     "Well, if I hadn't would you be feeling well enough to go out right now?"

     "No."

     When you glanced up you found that he was gazing raptly at you, his face filled with unchecked thanksgiving. Your witty response faltered on your tongue. 

     His touch, you were pretty damn sure that for the rest of his natural life you would never grow used to it...but his eyes? It was almost the same. Was this part of the bond? Or was it just...him? Did everyone feel this way when he held them in those eyes? When he looked at them, really looked...

You couldn't tear your eyes away. You couldn't find words.

     When Namjoon's phone suddenly buzzed you thanked almighty Samsung and sagged against the window pane. 

     "Damn," he muttered. 

     You looked at him questioningly.

     "I have a consultation with my radiation oncologist in ten minutes. Go ahead! I'll meet you down there right after."

     He pulled a sweatshirt over his head and changed his slippers out for his shoes.

     You returned to your room to grab outerwear as well. The evening was temperate enough to go without, but you were feeling chillier than usual. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

     Mom flashed across the screen.

     Your chest tightened and you silenced the ringer. You'd call her tomorrow, you told yourself. Besides, she had already spoken to Matt. 

     When you reached the garden, you decided there was someone you should call while you waited. Ambling down a gravel path, you held the phone up to your ear, stuffing your other hand into the pocket of your jean jacket.

     "Matt told mom that you passed out - are you okay?" Diana's voice on the other end registered genuine distress.

     You rolled your eyes and sighed. 

     "I'm fine. My body is just adjusting to the bond and probably jet lag and whatnot."

     "You better fucking be fine or I'm coming out there to make sure you are."

     You laughed. 

     "To South Korea? On a Wednesday?"

     "You know what I mean, god! You're so - hey! How did the fiancee thing go?"

     "I knew you'd want an update."

     "Spill."

     You sighed.

     "Uh-oh," she hummed, "That was your, things-are-an-effing-disaster sigh."

     "It was no- why do you keep trying to divine my air flow like they're casting-runes or something? Will you just let me tell you?"

     "You don't always say."

     You huff in exasperation.

     "Okay, well, I won't tell you what that sigh is," she mumbles in trepidation, "But I will tell you that I know enough to shut up and let you continue. Go on."

     "It didn't go swimmingly."

     "Fuck."

     "Yeah,” You lifted your fingers to absently stroke at the petal of a rose. “She seemed very frightened by the whole situation, which is completely understandable. But then...she also kind of came at me. She started asking pretty intimate stuff about the bond right off the bat. When I tried to redirect by suggesting we get to know each other better she started saying all this stuff she already knew about me. About Dad and Mom."

     "What?!" Diana gasped incredulously.

     "It was almost as if...I don't know, I could have been reading her incorrectly, but it was almost seemed as if she was trying to bring things up that might knock me off my footing. Make me...insecure." 

     You suddenly remembered your conversation with Namjoon the previous night. He hadn’t let on that he had already known your father passed when you were a child...but he had known. Passing out during skinship had gotten in the way of the conversation you had intended to broach with him about knowledge of the other. You had done research before meeting him, but only the basics. You had felt that as much should come from him as possible. Clearly you hadn’t been given that opportunity.

     "That bitch," Diana seethed, pulling your mind back into the moment.

     "Hey, hey, hey," you cautioned her, "She's in a extremely difficult situation. And that was just my biased impression of her intentions. Don't be too quick to judge her, Di."

     Diana hummed discontentedly.

     "Also, she came to apologize to me today before she leaves on tour. We made progress, I think."

     "Apologizing? Bare minimum," Diana said with an air of dismissal. "What did you say her name was?"

     "Kim Hyung-seo. Her stage name is Bibi."

     Diana was silent for a moment. 

     "Found her," she declared. 

     You smiled to yourself - of course she had found her, the woman was famous. It wasn't as if stalking measures were necessary (though you had no doubt of Diana's abilities should that have been the case).

Diana clicked her tongue in disappointment.

     "She's hot."

     "She is very pretty," you agreed.

     "Yeah, but you're hot too. And, y'kow, you're you. Bet you're smarter..."

     "Di," you said, stopping to pinch your brow, "We're not in some kind of competition. We're both just human beings navigating pretty uncharted waters, okay? We both have our strengths and weaknesses. She's going to be part of my life as Namjoon's wife, so not only is building a good relationship with her important to me, I have a responsibility to her as well. We all do. To each other."

     Your sister paused on the other end before relenting sullenly.

     "Yeah, yeah. I guess you're right - you do need to make nice with her...as long as they're married, that is..."

     "DIANA."

     "Okay! Geez!" Diana cleared her throat. "How is the soulmate doing?"

     "He's getting stronger every day," you answered, happily moving the topic away from Hyung-seo.

     "That's great!" she crooned. 

     "It is."

     "Are you smiling? You sound like you're smiling."

     "How are you doing, Di? Classes are starting soon."

     You smirked as your sister's attention surged in a new direction, and for the next half an hour she regaled you with tales of her new housemates, and the smarmy and unseemly Johnnie (who had come crawling back, as predicted, upon returning to the States). 

     Upon hanging up with Diana, you checked the time, and discovered that it had been nearly an hour since you left Namjoon. You were starting to feel weak, and a bit cold - hunger, you told yourself - so you decided to return indoors for dinner.

     You called Namjoon on the way up to the fifth floor to inform him if your change in plans. He apologized profusely, saying that the doctor had been detained, and asked you to join him for dinner.

Letting yourself into his suite, you shrugged your jacket off as you headed for your usual spot on the couch when, suddenly, you froze.

    A man was rising to stand from where he had been seated on the sofa. He was clad in a dark blue button-down with a golden emblem on the shoulder and black slacks. He wore a black cap which bore a similar insignia to the one on his shirt and fit snugly over his short dark hair. He wasn’t as tall as Namjoon, though his shoulders were nearly as wide. His features were soft but arresting, and his deep brown irises, you thought, seemed to hold a bit of everything a pair of eyes could. Your comic book was in his hand.

You crossed the room toward him.

     "Hi, I’m sorry, Namjoon will be here soon - oh, I'm his soulmate, Y/n," you stammered, before catching yourself.

     The young man's sharp eyes widened, his lips parting as you bowed.

     "Je ireum-eun Y/n imnida," you started over in Korean.

     He bowed in return, raising his dark brown eyes to you again as he responded in a soft deep voice.

     "Annyeonghaseyo, je ireum-eun Min Yoongi imnida."