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#this will be on ao3 as soon as i get an invite
strawberry-seob · 2 days
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I'll Go ✩ kjs
🍓pairing: afab!reader x jongseob, and afab!reader x intak
🍓genre: au, fluff, age gaps (reader is older), slight hurt/comfort, minor love triangle, caregiving/caretaking elements/moments, slow burn, falling in love with your sibling's best friend
🍓rating: teen & up audiences (but please see author's note below)
🍓 summary: jongseob is your younger brother shota's long-time best friend and now that you’re all adults, you begin to see him differently
🍓warnings: alcohol use, smoking (cigarettes), swearing/language, mentions of menstruation/menstrual care, accidental head injury/hospital visit
🍓word count: 35.1k (split into multiple chapters within this post)
🍓author's note: i wrote this fic as a series on ao3 so that readers could have a choice to read the smutty parts or avoid it, based on their preferences. i probably won't format a fic like this again but since that is how i did this one on archive, i will be posting the other two nsfw parts separately (they will be a progressive continuation starting from the end of this story's last chapter)
Chapter 1: I'll Go
It had only been a year, but so far, being adult roommates with your little brother Shota had proven to be nothing if not interesting. From his terrifying sleep walking, to the “science experiments” in the kitchen, and his habit of staying up all night playing video games with his best friend Jongseob, there was never a dull moment. It was way more interesting and fun than living alone ever would have been. This was especially true, given your age difference: at nineteen, Shota was wild and crazy in a way that you remember being several years prior. You had chilled out, but you affectionately doubted whether he ever really would.
Despite the messes around the apartment, living with Shota was a generally positive experience. On a certain afternoon, however, a scheduling mishap on his part turned into one of the more awkward situations you’d encountered, and you were still trying to figure out how you felt about it.
Early that Saturday morning, you’d woken up with a heaviness in your belly that only meant one thing: that time of the month.
Although usually very careful about tracking your periods and keeping the house stocked and ready for when it was supposed to come around, life had gotten chaotic enough lately that Mother Nature had brought your monthly gift mostly by surprise. You hadn’t started bleeding yet but you knew you would soon, so you swallowed a couple painkillers on an empty stomach (a bad habit you’d picked up due to your debilitating cramps), slapped a pad in your underwear, and crawled back into bed in the fetal position.
You woke again later that morning to the sounds of obnoxiously high-pitched giggling coming from the living room. Ugh. Another thing you’d forgotten was that Shota had invited Jongseob over to hang out for the day to work on homework (which would inevitably end up being 99% video games, and 1% homework). They were both attending the same college and thus had the fortune of taking some of the same classes and being able to help each other with homework. Jongseob was the kind of person to whom school came naturally, while Shota needed quite a bit more help most of the time, so you were at least glad he had a friend like Jongseob who was willing to help him so much.
From the sounds of it, however, it didn’t sound like much homework was actually getting done. You groaned and crawled out of bed, barely able to stand up straight due to the cramps. You gave yourself a cursory glance in the mirror and almost jumped at the sight of yourself. You were used to Jongseob being over all the time and didn’t really care about what he thought, but you decided to run a quick brush through your hair anyway and throw on a sports bra under your t-shirt. Actually, nope, fuck that, the sports bra was coming right back off. Way too tight.
You shuffled into the kitchen and started the electric kettle, pulled out your favorite pottery mug, and a raspberry leaf teabag. You’d always been told that it was good for menstrual symptoms and couldn’t really tell whether or not it helped, but it certainly couldn’t hurt. Jongseob walked into the kitchen and jumped, letting out a hilarious yelp, his hand over his heart dramatically. As much as your stomach hurt, you couldn’t stop laughing.
“Cut it out, y/n,” he whined, “I didn’t even hear you come out here. Wait… you okay?” he asked, his voice taking a slightly more serious tone. You realized you were gripping the counter with your other hand as you poured the steaming hot water into the mug. “Ah, yeah. Just don’t really feel great this morning.”
“Ah shit, you better not get me sick,” he replied, making an X with his arms in your direction playfully, then turned to pour himself a bowl of Shota’s cereal. “Don’t worry,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Not contagious.” He raised a confused eyebrow in your direction but didn’t press the issue.
You looked over at him again. “I like your hair, by the way. It suits you.” You could see the back of his neck tinge ever so slightly pink, as he reached a hand up to one of his wavy bleach-blonde locks and tugged on it self-consciously. The color contrasted nicely with his light pink hoodie. “Oh. Uh, thanks,” he muttered, not looking at you. You smiled to yourself and looked down at your tea, still steeping. As you’d gotten older, one of the things you were trying to work on was sincerity. But you were usually so sarcastic and Jongseob was so shy that it just probably ended up coming off as weird or even teasing. Oh, well. You had to start somewhere.
You heard Shota’s phone ring from the living room, and he answered. “What do you mean, where am I? Noooo that wasn’t today, was it? Okay, yeah. No, I’ll be right there, sorry!” and as he hung up, you and Jongseob flinched as your brother let out a dramatically shrill scream. He then leaned into the kitchen casually, hands on either side of the doorway, as if nothing had happened. “Uh, so! That was Jiung. I didn’t realize I had dance practice today. Haha! Well I did, but I didn’t realize that today was today, y’know?” he smiled sheepishly, trying to look as cute as possible.
Jongseob smacked his arm playfully, scolding him, “Dude, you can’t keep doing this to me, I have so much homework to get done and nowhere to do it. And I don’t wanna have to go to the library again!” Jongseob lived in the university dorms with a very rowdy dorm partner who cared way more about hooking up, smoking weed, and blasting his shitty music than about anything academics-related. Not that Shota was the quietest person in general, but he knew when to be quiet, and Jongseob appreciated that.
“Wait, you guys,” you interrupted. “Jongseob, why don’t you just stay here?” you offered. Jongseob and Shota both looked back at you, their eyes wide. Jongseob opened his mouth to say something, but Shota was quicker. “That’s a great idea! Welp, that settles it, buddy. You’ll be fine without me, you’re here often enough that you basically live here anyway.” Jongseob let out a little yelp as Shota pinched his side, and he smacked his arm again, trying to ignore his friend’s flippant response.
“Y/n, are you sure you’re okay with that? I don’t want to impose,” he complained, scratching the back of his head self-consciously. Shota butted in, “They’re fine, they would have never said anything if they didn’t mean it.” You were ready to argue when you realized he was actually being serious. Like now, every once in a while your brother said something that shocked you because it made you realize how well he actually knew you.
“He’s actually right. I really don’t mind, I’ll probably just be in my room, but just let me know if you need anything. Plus, you do basically live here half the time.”
“Okay, I will. Thanks, y/n,” Jongseob smiled, his crooked canines showing for a moment. You remembered him getting bullied for them when he was younger, but as an adult, they were more charming than anything. He and Shota had both resolved to not get braces when they were younger, and even though you would never tell them to their faces, you thought their smiles were adorable.
Shota hurriedly changed into some joggers and an oversized t-shirt, grabbed his wallet and phone, and rushed out. “I’ll be back in a few hours!” he yelled without looking behind him as he slammed the door. You sighed with a smile, looked at Jongseob and shrugged. He smirked and headed to the table to start on his homework. You removed the teabag from the mug, tossed it in the trash, and you’d almost made it to your bedroom when you were hit with a devastating wave of cramps across your low abdomen that radiated into your back and down your legs. You hissed in pain, bracing yourself in your door frame, and heard the faint squeak of the dining room table chair on the hardwood. “Y/n? You good?”
“Ah… yeah. I’m fine,” you replied with gritted teeth, trying not to let your voice sound as strained as it felt, but to no avail. You cringed as you heard a louder creak from the chair sliding on the floor once more, and soft footsteps approaching. “You don’t sound fine– o-oh my god!” Jongseob exclaimed as he rushed towards you, reaching out to steady you but hesitating, his hands hovering, not quite touching you. You cursed inwardly, realizing what you had to do.
“Okay listen, I know this looks bad, but–”
“Are you kidding? You can barely stand, y/n! Do you need me to take you to the hospital? Shota took my car to practice but I can order an uber or something, or–”
“Jongseob, you really listen to me. I’m fine,” you responded firmly. He looked back at you like you were crazy, his hands still hovering, unsure if you were about to collapse. “It’s my fucking period, okay?” 
“Your–” Jongseob started, then paused, realization coloring his face a bright shade of pink. Here we go , you thought to yourself, already exasperated. He pulled his hands back, looking to the side, then back at you. “Okay, but. I mean… are you okay , though? You look like shit, no offense.”
You laughed, stiffly walking into your room and curling up on your bed, as he remained in the doorway. You looked up at him sideways. “You know what, if you’re offering… would you mind heating up my heating pad for me? I think it’s in the hutch, and it just needs two minutes in the microwave, and you gotta flip it halfway through.”
“You got it, dude,” he replied with a mock salute, rushing back down the hall and nearly killing himself tripping over his too-baggy jeans. You giggled quietly and rolled onto your back, legs bent for comfort, and slapped both hands over your face, sighing deeply. This was weird. Right? You guessed it could be worse. But with that thought, another cramp crashed through your body, wracking your hips with pain, and you turned your head to the side, moaning into your pillow as Jongseob walked in. He hesitated for a moment, not used to coming into your bedroom, but seeing the way you obviously weren’t about to stand up and take it from him, he walked over and handed it to you. “Here you go. Sorry about your, uh. Sorry you gotta deal with all this,” he said awkwardly.
“Just one of the many blessings of having a goddamn uterus, my friend!” you replied, laying the heating pad across your lower abdomen and sighing at the relief it brought. You looked up at Jongseob and he glanced to the side as soon as you made eye contact. There was a pause of silence as he looked down at the floor, fidgeting with his oversized hoodie sleeves. “Yeah. Um. Is there anything else I can do? Like, to help?” he asked. 
“Yeah, go get a gun and shoot me,” you responded, your voice monotone. He laughed, his voice bright and slightly raspy. “Okay sure, will do,” he said, shaking his head and closing your door as he stepped out. Before the door closed completely though, he paused. “I’ll be in the dining room. Seriously though, let me know if you need anything. ‘s the least I can do since I’m a guest. ” 
“You’ve way surpassed guest status, dude. But okayyy, thank yooouuu,” you replied, dragging out the words and trying to sound annoyed, when you were in fact relieved that he couldn’t see you smiling. Living with Shota, you didn’t really know what it was like to be taken care of in any way. That guy was such a baby that you were constantly in parent-mode. 
This wasn’t bad. It was a little weird, but it wasn’t bad.
After about an hour or so, you dragged yourself out of bed and into the bathroom. Opening the bottom cupboard, your face fell. No. This cannot be happening. You rummaged through the space, knocking everything over, opening every drawer and cupboard imaginable in the bathroom, with no luck. Your pad and tampon supply had completely run out. Why the fuck hadn’t you just started using a diva cup? You cursed yourself inwardly. 
You rushed out into the living room, hand on your lower back (which was still on fire), and rummaged through your bag, because surely there had to be a stray hiding somewhere, right? Right?! 
You sighed, frustrated. Jongseob looked up absently from his textbook at the table. “Whatcha lookin for?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know!” you retorted, a mischievous smile on your face. He frowned, quickly realizing. “Ah, sorry,” he replied, looking back down at his book, his ears tinged red.
“Nah it’s all good. I just really didn’t want to have to go to the store today, but that’s what I get for not paying attention, I guess.”
He looked back up at you, worry pulling at his features. “You’re going to the store? In your condition?”
“Not like I have much of a choice! Motherfucker. When it rains, it really does pour. You want anything while I’m out?”
Jongseob stood up. “I’ll go,” he said. 
You burst out laughing. “You? You’re gonna go to the store and buy my tampons? Don’t make me laugh, Jongseob. I appreciate the offer, but it’s all good. I got it.”
His face reddened at your response, but he stood his ground. “Y/n, look at you. You can barely walk. Just let me go, it’s not a big deal.”
“You don’t even know which ones I need!”
“Just… text me a photo of what the package looks like,” he replied quietly. Your face softened. He was really serious about this. And this shouldn’t have embarrassed you this much, but it did. Plus, he was right. You’d been determined to go to the store on your own but you were literally bracing yourself on any surface you could find, just to be able to walk around the house. Plus, you felt like you might have an accident any moment. Whatever happened, it needed to happen soon. 
You dug around in your purse some more, pulled out your credit card, and handed it to him. And for the first time today, you felt your own face heat up. “Okay. Thanks, I really owe you one. I’ll text you what I need.”
“Cool,” he responded, a triumphant smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth but not quite making it. You assumed he was more excited about winning the argument than doing the task at hand. He grabbed his phone and keys and was out the door before you knew it. You headed to the bathroom to take photos of the empty packages of pads and tampons in your cupboard, then walked out into the hall and stood in the empty, quiet apartment for a moment with mixed feelings of warmth, relief, and embarrassment. But then, feeling another wave of pain and nausea coming on, you headed back to your bedroom to lay down.
About half an hour later, you heard the apartment door open, the sound of what could only be Jongseob removing his clunky shoes, and the muffled sound of a plastic bag. Your body relaxed in relief, as you’d become more and more uncomfortable as the time passed. You heard footsteps, followed by a couple gentle knocks at your bedroom door. 
“Come in!” you yelled weakly.
“Hi, um, here’s the stuff,” he began timidly, peeking in. “Do you want me to put it in the bathroom, or–”
“Can you just bring it to me?” you whined. “I’ll put it away, don’t worry about all that. And thank you again, so much. You really didn’t have to do this. I feel weird,” you slapped a hand over your face, peeking up at him. 
“Ah shit, please don’t. I don’t wanna make you feel weird. It’s really okay,” he replied, walking cautiously up to your bed and setting the bag on the floor. “I feel it’s the least I can do for just kinda hanging around here all the time. It’s no big deal at all.” There it was again, that flush spreading across his cheeks. You thought about how you’d been trying to be more sincere, less of a shithead to both him and Shota; and you wondered if he’d been trying to do the same. This softness that he was showing you, it wasn’t totally out of the realm of possibility, but it just wasn’t something you were used to. Not from him.
“Well… thanks. You’ve really made my life a lot easier today,” you responded. He smiled, bowed his head slightly and rushed out, shutting the door softly behind him. You opened the bag and your jaw dropped at the sight. Not only had he gotten both the pads and tampons you needed, but he also grabbed your favorite chocolate and jelly candy. Your eyes watered. When had Jongseob grown up to be such a sweetheart?
You pulled out your phone, not feeling like walking all the way out to the dining room:
y/n: seob!! the candy, are you kidding me? :’)
js: hehe ur welcome
y/n: i know i said I owed you one, but like… for reeeeal. This is fucked up
js: meh, it was your money. I just saw it at the checkout and thought you might want some
y/n: [cry emoji] [heart emoji]
js: [salute emoji] [tongue sticking out emoji]
You went to the bathroom to take care of things, then returned to your room. Feeling much more relaxed than before, you laid in bed once more, snacking on the candy lazily. You could feel your pain medication wearing off, but were too tired to get up and take some more, so you kept scrolling on your phone until you drifted off to sleep.
Your nap was perfect, until suddenly, it wasn’t. Crushing pain in your lower abdomen and back cast waves of nausea throughout your body. You curled up onto your side in the fetal position, trying to find some semblance of comfort, but nothing you were doing was helping. The pain was becoming severe, but you felt like you would scarcely be able to get up. Barely awake, you began to groan in pain, tears threatening to spill, and that’s when you heard the knock on the door. 
“Y/n? You okay?” 
Oh, great. In the haze of your nap, you’d almost forgotten that Jongseob was still here. You moaned a weak response that didn’t really come out as words.
“I’m gonna come in, okay?”
“Kay!” you yelled, eyes squeezed shut. Jongseob walked in a little less cautiously than before. “What’s goin on? What do you need?”
You tried to answer, but were dealing with a cramp so severe it had taken your breath away. You groaned into the pillow. 
“Do you need medicine?”
You nodded, eyes still squeezed shut. 
“Heating pad?”
You nodded again.
“Okay hold tight,” he replied, rushing out. He came back not long after with the heating pad all warmed up, a couple painkillers, and a glass of water. He gave you the heating pad first, so you could lay it across your abdomen, and handed you the painkillers and water. As soon as you took them, you laid back down on the bed, wincing in pain. You hadn’t had a period this bad in a while, and although you’d technically be fine, you were in so much pain you couldn’t think. Your breathing was rapid and you held onto the heating pad for dear life, when you felt a light pressure on your back. 
You hadn’t noticed that Jonseob had sat himself on the bed next to you, but there he was, rubbing gentle circles into your back. At his touch, the tears that were threatening to spill finally came. Not surprisingly, this caused Jongseob to panic. 
“Oh… oh my god I’m sorry, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked frantically, pausing his movements. You shook your head “no,” and realizing that this situation was way beyond the weirdness of before, just decided to give in to the comfort that was being offered. You grabbed his hand and moved it down to your lower back. 
“Right here. It hurts so bad. Please don’t stop,” you hiccupped pathetically. He hummed gently and began hesitantly, most likely because your shirt had ridden up to expose the skin of your lower back. With the agony you were in, you couldn’t be bothered, but he pulled the back of your shirt down to cover your skin and continued the gentle motions. Your breathing slowed a little, and you leaned into his touch. 
He began humming softly, and as the pain meds started to kick in, your body started to relax more, and, grateful as could be, you felt like you might drift off to sleep again. “Seob?” you said drowsily, your voice wet with barely dried tears.
“Yeah, y/n?” he asked quietly.
“You’ve been so sweet today. But please don’t tell Shota about this. I’ll never hear the end of it. You probably won’t, either,” you said with a wry laugh. Jongseob laughed heartily in response, breaking through the tension in the room with a breath that he seemed to have been holding. 
“Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on it.”
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Chapter 2: Don't Go
Over the next several weeks, you noticed Jongseob coming over a little more often than usual, if that was even possible. He’d started spending the night most weekends and even some weeknights. You’d have to start charging him rent, you thought, laughing inwardly. As if you could ever do that. He constantly complained about how broke he was, and every time you asked him why he moved into the dorms instead of trying to move in with you and Shota, he always offered some lame excuse about the requirements for his financial aid or not wanting to burden you, or he would just change the subject entirely. You really didn’t mind him coming over so much, you just wondered what his thought process really was. It didn’t make any sense.
Meanwhile, winter was coming to an end, and with it, winter term at Jongseob and Shota’s university. One Saturday morning as you were all in the common area, Shota blurted out, “We should do a movie night. To celebrate the end of the term.” You looked up at him from your oatmeal, and Jongseob, sitting next to him on the couch, just replied, “Okay dude, let’s do it. When?”
“Tonight!”
“Tonight?” you and Jongseob both blurted out at the same time. Shota appeared completely unfazed, his eyes glued to the first-person shooter game that Jongseob had been playing with him all morning. “Yeah! Tonight. I’m pretty sure the guys from school should all be available. I’ll text them.” You and Jongseob glanced at each other and smiled. He shook his head and looked back at the television screen. 
“Do the guys from school include Keeho?” you asked, and Shota hissed underneath his breath as his character suddenly died. Jongseob laughed triumphantly at his victory, causing you to restrain your own laughter. His laugh was so funny and shockingly high-pitched, and when it was loud, it almost always caught you off guard. Shota looked over at you. “Yes,” he said blankly, his eyes showing zero understanding of the nuance of your question. You nodded. “Cool. He’s really funny. So I was just wondering.” 
“Yeah, he’s funny. Do you like him?” Shota responded dryly, pulling out his phone nonchalantly. Oh boy, that backfired. “No!” you replied immediately. “Not in that way. I thought. I mean…” you hesitated, suddenly wanting to be swallowed by the floor. “Don’t you?”
“Don’t I what?”
“Like… Keeho?”
Shota looked over at you, dark eyes huge and round, face blank. He was so damn cute, but you wished he was able to pick up on subtext a little better. “Yeah, of course I like Keeho. We wouldn’t be friends if I didn’t.” You looked at Jongseob, but he was just scrolling on his phone, clearly tuning out the both of you. 
“That’s not what I…” you sighed. “Nevermind,” you said with a chuckle, “just let me know if there’s people coming over tonight so we can get ready.” At that, Shota’s phone chimed and he held up an index finger obnoxiously, still looking at his phone. “There is indeed, people coming over tonight!” he yelled, jumping up excitedly and tackling Jongseob on the couch, eliciting a string of screaming and profanity that had you laughing uncontrollably. 
“Alright you little freaks, my only request is that you help clean this place up before everyone comes over,” and at this, they reluctantly stopped their play fight and got to work.
Several hours later, you heard the first knock on the door, and you opened it to find Intak and Jiung, each armed with a 6-pack and a bag full of snacks. You welcomed them in warmly, and before you had a chance to shut the door, Keeho and Taeyang darted up the steps and made their way in as well. 
Shota made a beeline past the other guys towards Keeho and hugged him, laughing and hanging around his neck long after a normal hug would have been over. Yep, here we go , you thought to yourself. Keeho didn’t seem to mind the attention, you noticed, as he kept one hand firmly on Shota’s back and the other free to gesture dramatically while he talked to the others or to sweetly fix Shota’s bleach-damaged bangs when they got tangled over his forehead. You smiled at the affection shown in this group, but made a solemn decision to keep an eye on Keeho. Shota was the most important person in the world to you, and you wouldn’t be able to bear seeing him get hurt.
“Hi,” a voice beckoned behind you, and you turned to look up at Jiung, smiling at you sweetly, his dark, sharp eyes contrasting fiercely with his blazing copper locks. “Sorry, is it okay if we put these beers in the fridge?”
“Of course!” you beckoned him and Intak towards the fridge, helping them move things out of the way to make room for the drinks. Taeyang was still talking and laughing with Keeho and Shota near the entryway, but you noticed that Jongseob was still on the couch, joining in the conversation every now and then but mostly scrolling on his phone and looking a little out of place.
Most of Shota’s friends at school were in dance or some other music-related field (all of the guys who came over tonight were on his dance team), but Jongseob was an English major, making it so that he had some overlap with Shota’s classes but certainly not as much as the other guys. You knew Jongseob was mature and didn’t get jealous too easily, but something about the sight of him being the only one on the couch tugged at your heart, so you took a seat next to him, plopping down with so much force that it jostled him. 
“Sup,” you said, opening a not-yet-cold beer. “Sup,” he half-said, half-laughed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. You offered him your beer and watched out of the corner of your eye as he took the first sip, wincing a little at the bitterness, but recovering quickly. He took another drink, this one a bigger gulp, and you smacked his thigh playfully. “Agh!” he yelled, rubbing his leg, as you got up to fetch another. As you sat back down next to him and opened the second beer, he offered you a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Thanks.”
You rolled your eyes at him playfully, sipping your drink, as the rest of the guys started to congregate closer to the living room. It had been a while since you and Shota had had people over, and you were reminded of how small your place was. With just the couch and loveseat, there probably wasn’t enough room for everyone. 
“Ah shit, do we need to grab some floor cushions or a chair from the dining room?” you started, but Intak and Jiung urged you to sit, reassuring you that everyone would fit just fine. 
Shota sat Keeho down on the loveseat next to him, while the other three guys squeezed onto the couch next to you and Jongseob. Jongseob had been seated at the far left side of the couch, so to your right sat Intak, Jiung, and on the very right side Taeyang, who was squeezed so tightly against the arm of the couch that he ended up sitting on the floor between Jiung’s legs. You began to stand up again, stressed about the hosting situation and kicking yourself for not preparing better.
“Taeyang, can I please get you a pillow, or–” 
“Ma’am!” he screamed too-loudly, eliciting an eruption of laughter from the rest of the guys. Taeyang had such a pretty and elegant face, that it contrasted hilariously with his near-constant ear-shattering yelling. “Please sit down,” he demanded. “My ass is cushion enough. I’ll just lay on top of all of you if I get uncomfy.”
“Okay, okay, suit yourself” you laughed, holding your hands up defensively and realizing you were no match for the most diva-esque of Shota’s dance friends. You didn’t love being referred to as “ma’am,” but Taeyang was so funny that you could let it slide.
Shota turned on the TV and started scrolling through the movies when you realized you didn’t even know what movie he’d planned on making everyone watch, but when he landed on an incredibly disturbing horror movie and started it gleefully, you realized you wouldn’t have even needed to guess. Despite looking like an actual cherub, your brother was obsessed with all things horror, to the point that you weren’t even sure if he watched any other genre.
The movie started and you tried getting comfortable, but found it embarrassingly difficult to ignore the seating situation. Despite Taeyang’s gracious decision to sit on the floor, you were still squeezed snugly on the couch with the other guys, tightly enough that your thighs and arms were pressed against Jongseob on your left and Intak on your right. The contrast between the two was distracting: Jongseob on your left was not much shorter than Intak but he was so much smaller. He was wearing a cozy gray sweatsuit but you could feel the smallness of his body underneath it, his arms thin from spending all his spare time reading and writing. You could also tell that he was trying to make himself small, to give you as much space as possible – despite how futile that was.
Intak, on the other hand, was large, solid, and muscular, dressed in fitted jeans and a boat-necked black t-shirt that dipped slightly to display his defined collarbones. He wasn’t quite manspreading, but he certainly seemed to feel comfortable taking up space, his hand resting on his thigh, and consequently touching yours passively. Once you’d noticed this, there was no paying attention to the movie. You tried your hardest, but ever since Jongseob had rubbed your back when your period cramps were about to kill you weeks before, you’d realized how embarrassingly touch-starved you were. 
You figured, however, that Jongseob probably just saw you as an older sister. Intak, on the other hand, had flirted with you on more than one occasion, and he was absolutely stunning. Still, something about the situation had you feeling slightly uneasy, a feeling that went away gradually with each beer. 
The movie ended up devolving into everyone taking a drink every time Keeho or Taeyang screamed (which honestly just sounded like an excuse to get really fucked up really fast). You’d been taking tiny sips, but it didn’t seem like the others had, since Shota was basically laying on Keeho at this point, Taeyang was screaming at Jiung to rub his shoulders and Jiung was clearly about to snap; plus, Intak had started to brush his hand up against your thigh a little more carelessly, and Jongseob… wait, where was Jongseob?
He’d gone to the restroom but that had seemed like a little while ago. So either he was shitting his brains out, or…
You got up from the couch quickly and headed towards the bathroom. Knock knock knock , you tapped on the door quietly, trying not to alert anyone else back in the living room. “Seob? You okay?” you asked quietly, your face pressed to the door. The only thing you heard on the other side of the door was slurred murmuring, which was concerning. You tried the door handle and it was unlocked. Cracking the door just a tad, you announced, “I’m gonna come in, okay?” The only response you heard was a defeated-sounding groan, but it didn’t sound like a protest, so you carefully tiptoed through the door and latched it quietly behind you. 
The sight you saw next was one of the most pitiful you’d seen in your entire life, and it made your heart lurch painfully in your chest. Jongseob was hugging the toilet bowl, sitting with his legs to one side. He had stripped down to his white undershirt; he’d lost his sweatshirt and it was hanging halfway out of the bathtub. You could see a thin sheen of sweat on his arm, on which was resting his head, the ends of his hair sticking to the back of his neck uncomfortably. 
You walked over to him and got down on your knees, your legs a little wobbly, as you realized that you were a little drunker yourself than you’d realized. “Sorry Seob, I should have made sure you were drinking water. You okay?” He nodded into the toilet bowl and groaned, still not looking up. But in the next moment, he retched, and seemed to only be dry-heaving; you realized he’d probably already vomited everything in his stomach. You felt a sudden surge of melancholic protectiveness, and began rubbing his back. You could feel his shoulder blades poking out; he was so small, and as it dawned on you that he was probably a hopeless lightweight, you made a mental note to yourself to never let him drink around you again without you keeping an eye on him.
Bang Bang Bang!
The sound of someone pounding on the door made you jolt. “Occupied! Use the one in my room!” you yelled, and heard sloppy-sounding footsteps headed towards your room. That must have been Shota. You turned your attention back to the mess before you. Jongseob hadn’t moved from his position, his head still resting on his arm. You wondered if he was asleep, and with your other free hand, you began to run your fingers through his hair gently, pushing it out of his face. His hair wasn’t yet long enough to “hold up” while he puked, but you figured this was some kind of equivalent. 
After doing this for a few minutes and making yourself sleepy in the process, you got up, grabbed an empty glass from the counter, and filled it with tap water. “Okay buddy, are you ready to sip some water?” you asked, to which he answered with a vehement shake of his head “no.” You sighed. “What about rinsing your mouth out, at least?” It looked like he was about to shake his head again but he paused and turned slightly towards you, accepting the glass of water. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes glanced at you for a moment to accept the water before taking a sip and spitting the water into the toilet. “There you go,” you encouraged, taking the glass from him. 
He put his arms back up on the toilet seat and rested his head there again, but this time turned towards you. He made eye contact with you and started giggling, which made you giggle back, but you didn’t know what you were laughing at. You were just still a little drunk. “Y/n,” he whined, his voice low, raspy, and tired, as he closed his eyes again. “Yeah?” you replied, smiling and ruffling his hair. “Thisis… ssoo embarrassing.” You couldn’t help but laugh again, at his slurred speech, but also at the situation. “Eh, it happens to the best of us, don’t sweat it,” you reassured him, patting his back lightly. 
Head still resting on his arms, he opened his eyes and looked at you sideways again, but this time he didn’t say anything, he just stared, a goofy smile on his face. You noticed that the flushing in his face brought out his freckles, and this realization made your throat a little dry for some reason. You took a sip of the water and cleared your throat. You looked back and he was still staring at you. You made your eyes dart to the left and right, then shrugged. “What?” you asked him, feeling more and more self-conscious by the moment. He giggled. “Nothing,” he replied, still smiling. 
“Okay funny guy, I think it’s time to get you to bed,” you announced, motioning towards him but generally unclear on how you were going to make this happen. “Just leave me here, y/n,” he argued. “I’ll sleep in the tub. Plus, I might throw up again.”
“You are not going to sleep in the tub, dude, you’ll wake up unable to move your neck and it’ll be my fault for letting you. C’mon, you’ll be way more comfy in a bed. Here, hold onto me,” you instructed him as he slung an arm around your shoulder to help you half-walk, half-carry him out of the bathroom and towards Shota’s room. But when you arrived at his doorway, the door wide open, you found Shota in bed, limbs tangled with none other than Keeho’s, both of them fast asleep. It dawned on you that if anyone else had stayed over, they’d likely be taking up the couches.
You sighed. “Okay change of plans,” you said, leading him to your own bedroom instead. You opened the door, led him inside, and plopped him down onto your bed. You helped him get under the covers and were about to go back out to the living room when Jongseob wordlessly grabbed your hand. 
You paused and bent down towards him. “Seob? You need anything else?”
“Don’t go,” he responded sleepily, eyes closed, clearly half-asleep if not fully asleep at this point. You’d been so stressed out seeing him this sick for the first time that you were nearly powerless against his request. You ran your free hand through your hair, weighing your options and unsure of what to do, when Jongseob yanked you into bed. 
There was no way he knew what he was doing, you thought, and you were a little worried about what would happen in the morning, but right now you were tired, still buzzed, and not in the mood to fight, so you got under the covers and let him cuddle up next to you. You laid on your back as he turned towards you, slung his arm around your waist, and pressed his face against your arm. You stared at the ceiling, stifling laughter at the absurdity of your situation, while trying to ignore the way your heart rate sped up. It was probably just the alcohol, you thought, as you drifted off to sleep.
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Chapter 3: Waking Up
You woke up the next morning to the sensation of your head pounding. You opened your eyes, looked at the ceiling, glanced to your left and nearly jumped out of your skin. Jongseob was curled up towards the wall away from you, his hair sticking out in all directions, lightly snoring. You looked down and you were fully clothed; he was too. You clutched your chest, letting out a huge exhale of relief, as the previous night’s memories started to come back to you. 
You gingerly crept out of bed, trying not to disturb him. Thinking back on how sick he'd been, you figured he would be asleep for a while. You grabbed a glass, filled it with water from the bathroom, and quietly set it on the nightstand with a couple aspirin and a piece of ginger candy. You left the bedroom, latching the door gently, and headed out to the living room, passing Shota’s room on your way. You glanced in as you walked by: sleepy Shota, but no Keeho. The rest of the place was empty too, so you figured the guys had all gotten up a little earlier and headed home; it was late in the morning, after all. 
As you started picking up beer cans and prepared to make breakfast, Shota wandered down the hall, looking at you sleepily. “Good morning, party animal!” you teased. He groaned and smiled, rubbing his face. “So… you and Keeho? Last night?” you inquired carefully. “What about us?” Shota responded, confused. You gave him a look. “Dude. You guys went to bed together.”
“Oh yeah, that! I was in a cuddly mood – you know how I get when I drink – and there was no room for him in the living room since Jiung and Intak took up the couch and Taeyang took the loveseat.”
“Oh. So… just… friend stuff?”
Shota looked at you, more confused than ever. “Y/n, you get so weird whenever you talk about Keeho. Are you sure you don’t have a crush on him?”
You laughed, annoyed at how dense he was. “Trust me, I’m good. I don’t think I’m his type.”
“You never know!”
“Oh, I think I might…” you muttered under your breath, quietly enough that he couldn’t hear you. “Oh, about last night. Shota, I’m gonna tell you something… and you have to promise not to get all weird about it.”
“No promises, but what’s up?” Shota asked, his curiosity piqued. At that moment, you heard your bedroom door open, and you both looked in that direction. Shota looked at you, his brows furrowed inquisitively, and before you saw him, you both heard Jongseob yelling down the hall, “Y/n? Why was I in your bed?”
Shota’s eyes widened. “You did not ,” to which you exclaimed “I swear it’s not what it looks like!” and as Jongseob entered the common area, Shota gave him a horrified look, which was all the false confirmation he needed to start panicking. “O-oh my god, don’t tell me we–”
“You slept with my sister , dude? Really?” Shota demanded. He didn’t look mad, just in abject shock. Jongseob’s face looked like it was burning up, and this nightmare of a conversation had moved so quickly and chaotically that you hadn’t been able to get a word in, but you were fed up.
“Both of you shut the fuck up!” you yelled, a little louder than you meant to. Shota’s head snapped towards you, his eyes large and focused. You immediately regretted your volume; he hated it when you got angry. Jongseob looked in your direction but couldn’t seem to make eye contact with you, his face still on fire. 
“Jongseob, listen. You got really sick last night. I was going to put you in Shota’s bed but Keeho was there – I know, I know, stay focused, that is not what we’re talking about right now,” you snapped as Jongseob stifled laughter and glanced in Shota’s direction before turning his attention towards you again. “So I put you in my bed and I was gonna go find somewhere else to sleep, but you yanked me into bed like a clingy little monkey. Nothing weird. We just slept.” 
Silence hung in the air for a few agonizing moments. “Y/n, why didn’t you just say that?” Shota asked innocently, a guilty smile forming on his face. You darted over to him and put your hands on his neck, mock-strangling him, as he screamed and pretended to be murdered by you, and Jongseob’s laughter broke the tension in the room even more. 
Once you’d wrestled Shota to the floor and then forced him and Jongseob to begin cleaning up the rest of the mess in the living room, you started on breakfast burritos for the three of you. As Jongseob bent over to pick up one of the cans, however, he held his hand to his head, grimacing. You tried not to notice, but felt yourself watching him a little more closely since last night, feeling a little more protective than usual. “Seob? Did you take the aspirin I left on my nightstand?” you asked. His eyes darted towards you, looking embarrassed. “Ah, um, no, I didn’t realize that was for me.” You smiled, rolled your eyes and waved him off in the direction of your bedroom, and he shuffled off down the hall. 
You pulled a bag of frozen hashbrowns out of the freezer and poured some into a preheated pan, stirred it around with some cooking oil, and popped a lid onto it to let them soften up. Shota headed to the bathroom as Jongseob came back out. To your surprise, he took up the space next to you and started helping with the prep, chopping the block of ham that you’d pulled out. He didn’t normally help you cook breakfast when he was over, so this was a nice change.
“Hey,” he began.
“Uh, hey?” you said, looking over at him with a confused smile. He didn’t look at you, and kept his eyes on what he was doing. “I wanted to thank you. Y’know… for taking care of me last night. I feel really bad about it, and pretty embarrassed. You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.” You could see the tips of his ears reddening, and grabbed one of them playfully, eliciting a surprised yell from him. “Back it up,” he yelled, “or I’ll touch you with my ham hands!” he held his hands out to you menacingly and you put your hands up in surrender, laughing. 
“Listen, don’t feel bad. It’s fine. I said this to you last night, and I’ll say it again, but… it happens to the best of us. I’ve been there before, so I know how nice it is to have someone looking after you,” you reassured him. He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place, his melancholic brown eyes filled with a mixture of gratefulness, shame, and something else that took you slightly off guard. “Plus,” you continued, deciding to step out on a limb with what you were about to say.
 “You’re pretty cuddly. It could have been worse.”
Jongseob’s jaw dropped and he looked like he was about to say something, but just covered his face and dropped into a squat, a low scream muffled by his hands. You laughed triumphantly, ruffling his already-messy bleach-damaged hair. However, although you’d meant to tease him , you felt your own face heating up, and felt grateful that he wasn’t looking at you.
You went back to cooking, as Shota came out and sat on the couch, started up the gaming console, and yelled at Jongseob to come join him. Jongseob squinted his eyes at you and you stuck your tongue out at him teasingly, before he left the kitchen. 
The rest of the day went as normal, the three of you just hanging on the couch, until Shota heard his phone chime and let out a small gasp. You wondered if it was finally Keeho’s confession.
“Y/n?” he looked over at you.
“Yeah?” you answered, raising your eyebrows at him and smiling expectantly.
“Intak… wants to know if I can give him your number.”
You stared at him. Jongseob looked at Shota, then at you, brows raised. You glanced at Jongseob, then back at Shota, whose eyes were wide, waiting for your response.
 “U-uh, I mean, sure? Why not, right?” you replied. You couldn’t think of a good reason to say no. You were single, and apparently he was too (you’d hoped so, based on the signals he was putting out last night), he was attractive, really attractive. He seemed nice. 
“Yeah, I mean, it’s up to you entirely,” Shota responded, his face a blank slate. You furrowed your brows, annoyed at his lack of emotion on the matter. “Well, you know him better than I do. Do you think it’s a good idea? Are you comfortable giving him my number?”
Shota looked down and bit his thumbnail for a moment, appearing to be deep in thought. He looked back up at you and smiled brightly. “Yeah. He’s a good guy. I don’t see why not.” You glanced at Jongseob, whose face seemed to fall ever so slightly at Shota’s endorsement. But he looked away right as you caught this. “What’s the problem, Seob? You think he’s too young for me?” you teased. Intak was a couple years older than Jongseob, but still several years younger than you. 
“No!” he insisted, his ears turning pink as he scrolled on his phone casually. You eyed him suspiciously, then looked back at Shota. “Alright, just give it to him I guess.”
“Okayyy,” Shota sang, texting Intak back furiously. 
The remainder of the afternoon dragged on lazily, with the guys playing video games on the couch, and you restlessly moving from the living room to the kitchen to your bedroom, wanting to be productive but feeling too tired from the alcohol the night prior. Later that evening as you scrolled in bed, you received a text from an unknown number. You smiled and opened it, a gentle flutter in your stomach as you’d guessed correctly: Intak. 
You texted back and forth with him for a while, just light smalltalk at first. He asked how you were feeling after last night, you asked how he got home and apologized for disappearing in the middle of the movie. You left out the part about Jongseob getting sick and sleeping in your bed, wanting to protect his privacy, so you made it sound like you were the one who wasn’t feeling well. He said he thought you were really pretty, and that he’d love to take you out sometime, causing you to blush and hide under the covers even though you were completely alone in your room. 
As you drifted off to sleep, you felt giddy, but slightly off. You assumed it was just the nervousness at the prospect of talking to someone after so long. 
Yes… that had to be it.
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Chapter 4: Settling Down
You and Intak had continued texting almost nonstop since that evening, and had settled on going to see a movie the next weekend, Friday night. He’d asked which movie you wanted to see – you said you didn’t care – and the both of you therefore ended up settling on an action movie that you really didn’t care for. It was, however, fun. Intak was a perfect gentleman: he picked you up, paid for and carried the snacks, and when he dropped you off, he didn’t ask to come inside. At the front door of your apartment, he did, however, lean in to kiss you. 
This caught you by surprise, but it wasn’t totally unwelcome. You closed your eyes and leaned into it. His lips were slightly chapped but soft nonetheless, and the kiss was over before you knew it; chaste, and quick. You smiled at him, your face warm against the cool spring night air. He smiled back bashfully, looking to the side and biting his lip. “Text me?” he asked. “Yeah,” you responded quietly. He touched your arm briefly before heading down the stairs, as you walked into the apartment. 
You stepped inside, the smile still plastered on your face, but the moment you walked inside, you regretted not controlling your face better: Soul and Jongseob immediately started to roast you. 
“Oooooooo, who’s got you smiling like that?” Soul yelled from the couch, wiggling all his fingers at you teasingly. Before you could control it, you could feel all the blood rush to your face and Soul started laughing maniacally. You made eye contact with Jongseob and he gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but he didn’t say anything, just looked back at the TV and giggled quietly next to Soul. 
“Leave me alone ,” you groaned, unable to stop smiling, now thoroughly embarrassed as you opened the fridge door aimlessly, mostly to make yourself seem busy. You collected your thoughts and your body suddenly noticed the constricting sensations of your date night outfit, which you couldn’t wait to get rid of. You hurried to your room and changed, coming back out in baggy sweats and a tank top, headed to the fridge, and opened a beer. 
You took a long, cold gulp of it in the kitchen, then walked over and sat down on the couch next to Jongseob who was sitting cross-legged, his loose olive-green shorts bunching past the knees, and an oversized black band t-shirt pooling in his lap. You’d noticed his dark roots had started coming in, and thought the contrast against the blonde actually looked nice. 
“So?” Jongseob asked, catching you off guard, as you turned to look at him and he was giving you a mischievous smile, his eyebrows raised. “So what?” you responded, sincerely confused. “What movie did you guys see? How was the date?” he asked, looking at you like you were crazy. For some reason, Kim Jongseob asking you how your date went made you feel strange, as butterflies threatened to break through your ribcage and you felt your face heating up again. You recovered quickly, though. 
“It was good!” you answered, trying your best to look and sound casual. “We saw that new Godzilla one, I can’t remember the name of it. Lots of carnage and explosions and mayhem, Soul would have loved it.” Soul’s eyes stayed glued to the television screen, his fingers working furiously at the video game he was playing, and whined loudly, “Dammit y/n, I really wanted to see that one!” 
“Just because I saw it doesn’t mean you can’t also see it, you little weirdo. Don’t worry, I won’t spoil it,” you responded, laughing at his immature reaction. Jongseob’s eyes went back to the TV, his questions stopping there. You felt like he wanted to ask more, but didn’t want to press. Something in his demeanor tonight was confusing, and you couldn’t quite figure out what it was. But something seemed off.
The next morning you came out to the kitchen in your pajamas and saw that Jongseob was already in the dining room doing homework. It didn’t look like Soul was awake yet. “Good morning!” you greeted him cheerfully as you started the electric kettle. “Morning,” he responded, sounding heavily distracted, his back hunched as he typed furiously on his laptop. 
You knew he must be in focused-writing mode, because he was usually much friendlier when you came out, so you decided to leave him be. You popped a couple slices of whole wheat bread in the toaster and continued making your tea. Jongseob sighed audibly, catching your attention. You looked over at him, his chin propped in his hand, expression looking displeased. “Everything okay over there?” you asked cautiously. 
“Yeah,” he replied, unconvincingly. “Actually, Y/n, would you mind doing me a huge favor?” he asked, turning towards you inquisitively. You looked back at him, wondering what it could be. “Uh, I guess? What’s up?” you answered hesitantly, bringing your breakfast to the table as he angled his laptop in your direction.
“It’s this piece I’m working on for my poetry class. I keep going over it again and again, but there’s something off about it. I don’t like it. It felt different in my head, and I’m not sure what the problem is. Will you read it and let me know what you think?”
“Oh yeah, for sure,” you replied, relieved that it wasn’t really anything serious. You did a quick scroll through the document and it was pretty long, about a page and a half. You scrolled up to the top and started reading. About halfway through, you realized it was a poem about unrequited love. Something in your chest tugged. The idea of Jongseob longing for someone and them not returning his feelings made you feel a little sick to your stomach. Did this poem come from personal experience? Or was he just drawing on other inspiration, trying to come up with something for the class?
Realizing you had stopped paying attention to what the lines said, you subtly started over, but not subtly enough to avoid alerting Jongseob. “Ugh, is it that hard to get through? See, I tried to make it flow well but I’m worried I keep overthinking it and–” 
“No it’s not that,” you interrupted him, “I think I’m just still waking up. I don’t read a ton of poetry so I gotta get myself into poem-reading mode. But also…” you hesitated for a moment, “..this piece is kind of a bummer. Don’t tell me someone’s got you brokenhearted, dude.”
Jongseob flushed deeply but played it off immediately, clearing his throat and immediately replying, “Oh it’s just for the assignment, I’m drawing on a bunch of different stuff, don’t worry ‘bout it.” You laughed in response, noting how pink his face got. You weren’t convinced, but decided against pushing any further.
As you started over and continued slowly through the poem, you reached the end and realized you knew what he meant. The last bit of the piece fell a little flat, like the emotion throughout didn’t quite carry through to the end, or like something was being left out. You read the last third again, and rested your chin on your hand, fingers drumming on your cheek thoughtfully. “Okay, I see what you mean. It’s totally this last chunk. It almost feels… dishonest?”
“How do you mean?” he asked, scooting his chair next to yours, brows furrowed and angling the laptop towards him slightly and studying the screen as he strained to read the section you referenced. You tried not to react to his face suddenly being so close to yours, as you used the trackpad to highlight the beginning of the part that seemed off.
“Like, starting right here. It kinda feels like it switches to something a little too analytical. Like, I dunno, like the poem is trying too hard?” You scroll up to the beginning of the poem. “See, the way it begins and the way it flows into the middle, you’re describing a feeling in a way that feels very emotional. Like the reader can really feel what you’re feeling. There’s a certain rawness to it.” 
“Mhm, okay,” Jongseob responded, nodding his head as he continued listening to your feedback.
“But right… here,” you continued, hovering the cursor on the second page near the end, “it’s like you back away emotionally and start getting a little too smarty-pants about it. Don’t get me wrong, the writing is still really good but it just suddenly becomes so much less personal-feeling. Like in the first part of the poem you’re describing the feeling of falling in love, but then in the very last part you try to be clever about the unrequited feelings, instead of continuing with that vulnerability. And… I dunno, I guess that could be intentional and still make a lot of sense artistically, even more so, but it just doesn’t flow. It loses that rawness and just doesn’t feel as honest.”
“Mmmm,” Jongseob hummed in response. He rested his face in his hand and leaned back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other, still staring at the screen. He ran his hand through his unstyled hair, barely achieving anything as it flopped right back down into his face. “Okay, yeah, that’s good. I see what you mean. That’s super helpful. And uh, sorry to bum you out so early in the morning,” he added with a shy smile, canines peeking out just barely as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Hey, no worries, happy I could help. Your writing is, like, really good. I know I’m not great at compliments and I basically just tease you and Shota nonstop, but… you are seriously talented.”
Jongseob smiled, bowing his head shyly. “Thanks, y/n. That means a lot coming from you.” 
You fought the urge to come back with a sarcastic response and just opted for ruffling his hair and getting up from the table. In the kitchen washing your plate, you paused and turned back towards him again. “Hey, Seob?”
“Yeah?” he asked, not looking up from his laptop.
“You know you can.. Uh… like, if you need to talk about anything. Or whatever. You know I’m here, right?”
Jongseob looked up at you, his eyes wide and filled with a mixture of embarrassment and affection. “Thanks. Yeah, I guess. I appreciate that.” You smiled back at him, finished up in the kitchen, then headed to the couch to read a book. But not long after, Jongseob joined you, gently plopping down on the couch next to you. Wedging one foot on the couch to get more comfortable, he opened up a book of his own and started reading. 
Your throat felt tight and you found it difficult to focus on the words on the page, having to read the same paragraph over and over. Something about the scene made your heart feel so… full. And warm. You managed to calm down and savored the moments of peaceful parallel reading before Shota woke up to start filling the house with playful noise.
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Chapter 5: Let's Go
The next couple months were mostly a blur, with Intak (and the rest of the guys, really) coming over nearly every weekend to do everything from watching movies to playing video games or board games, or sometimes just sitting around with some beers and talking shit. 
Even though spring term had begun and everyone had a mostly full course load, they all still made time to have fun on the weekends, which you respected. It’s not something you had found yourself doing when you were working on your undergrad (which led to some serious burnout), and like your past self, there was only one person in particular who ever missed these hangouts: Jongseob. 
As the year had progressed, you’d noticed that he’d become increasingly diligent with his coursework, constantly typing away on his laptop, or laying on the couch with his nose stuck in a book. On the weekends, he was the first person up and the last person you saw before going to bed, his face always lit up by his screen – which, you’d noted, had the brightness turned all the way up and would probably result in him needing glasses before he graduated. 
Meanwhile, you and Intak were casually dating at this point. But despite the dates, the constant texting, and the few late-night flings, you found yourself not feeling particularly intimate with him. You hoped he’d feel the same, because you’d hate to make things weird in the friend group. Not that Shota wasn’t already doing that with Keeho – whatever it was that they had going on; you tried not to think about it too much. But with Intak, he was such a romantic, and for now at least, you wanted things to stay casual and simple.
At the same time, you’d noticed that Jongseob had started to become a little more distant. It made sense, since he was so busy with school, and since you’d started seeing someone. But for some reason you couldn’t place, for a reason that eluded logic and that you felt deep in your gut, you didn’t like it. You’d felt like the two of you had become closer for a bit, and then he had started to withdraw. He didn’t smile as much. And he seemed so overworked. 
For that reason, on a particularly sunny Saturday, with Shota gone at an extra-long dance practice with Intak and the others, you decided to take Jongseob on a surprise picnic. 
On one of the nights that Jongseob had surprised you by staying up with everyone, you were all playing a drinking game which included a mini version of “never have I ever,” during which it was divulged that Jongseob had never gone on a picnic before. Everyone started babying and teasing him the moment he divulged this information, lamenting that his youth had been wasted on studying, although he hadn’t seemed to mind – he didn’t realize what he was missing, after all.
You’d gotten all the supplies the night before, complete with food and snacks, drinks, playing cards, and a frisbee. You didn’t own an aesthetically pleasing picnic basket and even considered buying one, but they were so expensive and you already had a cooler and other bags to carry the supplies in, so you decided to be frugal and skip it.
After taking a quick shower, you threw on some light makeup and a comfortable outfit and headed out to the living room. But shit , your heart was racing. You suddenly felt incredibly dumb, staring Jongseob down as he lounged on the couch in his pajamas, reading a book for one of his classes. He looked up, glanced down at your outfit, and blinked a couple times before saying, “Morning, Y/n. You look nice. What’s up?”
You fought the heat that crept into your face as you responded, “Get dressed, bitch, we’re going on a picnic.”
He blinked a couple more times, his mouth hanging open, then closed, before he burst out laughing. You put a hand on your hip while you waited for him to finish; you acted annoyed, but it was nice hearing him laugh so hard after how quiet he’d been lately. 
He looked back down at his book and then glanced up at you, your hand still on your hip, your eyebrows raised expectantly. “Oh shit, you’re serious. Uhh, sorry, I don’t think I have time to–”
“Yes you do,” you interrupted him, walking over and snatching the book out of his hands, making sure not to lose his place. He made a low whining noise of annoyance and threw his head back on the couch, defeated, staring back at you from under his too-long bangs. He stuck his bottom lip out and tried blowing upwards to get them out of his face, but they just landed right back in the same spot, covering up his eyes again. 
“Seob, you’ve been working yourself to death lately. I know you have a lot to do, but you’ve gotta take a break every now and then.”
“I do take breaks!”
“Doom scrolling on your phone in between homework sessions isn’t a break,” you retorted, and he rolled his eyes. You continued, “You need to go outside. Bring your work if you have to, but you’ve gotta get some fresh air and relax at least a little bit.”
At this suggestion, his face softened as he appeared to realize you weren’t going to let him get out of this. “Okay, fine,” he moaned, standing up from the couch as he headed towards Shota’s room to get dressed. “Hurry up,” you yelled down the hall at him as you started packing everything into the cooler. 
He came back out after just a minute, dressed in a white oversized long-sleeve button-up, some denim shorts so baggy and long that they might as well have been pants, and a pair of white high-top sneakers. Your eyes drifted downwards and noticed nearly half the bottom buttons on his shirt were left undone, and narrowed your eyes, wondering if it was on purpose or if he’d only half dressed himself amidst his morning sleepiness. Before you had the chance to interject, he pocketed his phone, sweeping a portion of the shirt aside, clearly aware of its unbuttoned state. Weirdo , you thought stubbornly, shouldering the cooler. 
“You ready?”
“Let’s go,” he responded with a sweet smile, his book bag slung over his shoulder. He’d left his hair mostly unstyled so it hung limply around his neck and nearly covered his eyes. You envied him for how effortlessly cute he looked – now, and all the time – especially when you always had to make an effort to look put-together. 
As the two of you got into your old reliable Honda and started heading to the park near your apartment complex, your mouth went dry as it dawned on you that you and Jongseob never really went anywhere together without Shota. You took a nervous sip out of your water bottle. You’d been so confident about it before, so adamant in your mind that it wouldn’t be weird, but you found yourself struggling to come up with what to talk about, so you turned on the radio and both of you listened together in silence. Jongseob stared at his phone for most of the drive casually, and you wondered if he felt as awkward as you did. Probably not, you thought, as you breathed a sigh of relief once you approached the parking lot for the park. 
“You ever been here?” you asked him as you pulled the cooler out of your trunk. “Nope, never have,” he responded as he scanned the area, taking it all in. The park was well-maintained, boasting multiple healthy and shady trees, lush green grass, and even a duck pond off to one side. There were picnic tables scattered about, and a walking path, but you decided to spread out the patterned blanket underneath one of your favorite shady trees. 
He plopped down cross-legged on the blanket as you set down the cooler, opened the lid, and started setting everything out. In just a few minutes, you had a fully stocked charcuterie board ready to go, along with sparkling strawberry lemonade and a variety of sweets on the side. You knew Jongseob didn’t like bread very much, so you’d skipped the baguette that you normally would have gotten and opted instead for crackers, cheese, cured meats, pickled vegetables, and everything in between. 
As you set it all out, you felt a sudden rush of shame at the lengths you’d go to prepare something like this just for Jongseob, and realized that it would probably be best not to tell Shota – he’d be way too jealous. You reluctantly looked up at Jongseob and his eyes were wide and shining, glancing from the food up to you. “Y/n, this is crazy. I mean, it looks so good though. You should at least let me pay you back for some of it.” 
“Nah, bro, you’re good,” you responded as nonchalantly as you could, avoiding eye contact and filling a mini plate with food. You poured him a clear plastic cup of lemonade and handed it to him, and once your eyes met his, he continued. “Why, though? Why are you doing this for me? Please don’t get the wrong idea,” he immediately added as you opened your mouth to respond, and he continued, “I just feel bad. This is really nice. Thank you.”
“It’s really okay, please don’t feel bad. I just wanted to have a picnic,” you lied through your teeth, “and I knew you’d be laying around at my house so I wanted some company.”
“Oh, so I’m here to fulfill your own selfish purposes, huh?” he laughed, sipping the lemonade. You grinned arrogantly, but couldn’t keep up the charade fully. “Well, yes, partially. But it also seems like you’ve been under a lot of stress lately. I know you’re busy, but the way you’ve been so withdrawn this past month… it just…” you thought for a moment about what you were going to say next, his eyes on you curiously as you rubbed the back of your neck and looked out to the pond. “The way you’re constantly working and rarely taking a break these days, it makes me think of my more stressful undergrad days. I didn’t have anyone looking out for me and I got really burnt out. I didn’t know how to rest without feeling guilty.” 
At that last comment, Jongseob’s face flushed slightly pink and he tried to suppress an embarrassed smile. You could tell you’d struck a chord, so you continued as he shoved an entire macaron into his mouth, seemingly now comfortable with being spoiled. “I understand the pressure of feeling like everything you do has to be your absolute best. But trust me, it doesn’t. And I know that seems so backwards, but it will pay off in the long run if you make some small sacrifices to protect your sanity.” He chewed quietly, contemplating your words. 
When he looked up at you, you gave him a reassuring smile and you both relaxed into a comfortable silence while you ate. After a few minutes, Jongseob said, so quietly you could barely hear him, “Thanks, y/n. I don’t really have anyone else looking out for me like this. I don’t say it often enough, but I appreciate you, so much.” Your throat went dry at the compliment and you started coughing and reached for your drink. Your coughing fit died down and when you looked up at him, he was staring at you, holding back a laugh. You both burst out laughing in that moment, and you felt his barriers come tumbling down. 
“Why the fuck are we so bad at sincerity? I swear to god, every time I’m around you and Shota I feel like I have the emotional maturity of a middle schooler,” Jongseob admitted, voice raised, and you started laughing harder, feeling relief as the tension of the situation began to melt. 
To further get the jitters out, you felt like now would be a good time for frisbee so you pulled it out of your bag, pulled Jongseob up to his feet, and started throwing the disc back and forth. The game eventually ended prematurely when Jongseob accidentally threw the frisbee into the duck pond, far enough into it that there was no way of retrieving it. He apologized profusely and insisted he would buy you a new one as you both threw yourselves onto the blanket in the shaded area once again. 
“Damn, Jongseob, I knew you weren’t much of an athlete but I didn’t know it was that bad,” you teased him relentlessly, since every time he had thrown you the frisbee before losing it in the pond, you had to run every which way to retrieve it since he was hopeless at throwing it straight. He laid back and lifted his arms to cover his face and groaned, pushing his bangs upwards and out of his face, which was now coated in a light sheen of sweat. He took a deep breath, apologizing again. 
He then turned onto his side with surprising quickness, his head propped up on his fist, and trained his eyes on your face. “So, you and Intak? How’s that going, if you don’t mind me asking?” His face lost confidence with each moment of silence you spent thinking about how to reply. “Oh also, you can tell me to fuck off since it’s none of my business and you are in no way obligated to–”
“Oh my god stop , it’s fine,” you said with an appreciative smile and pushed him gently. “Uhm, me and Intak,” you mused, looking away thoughtfully, crossing your legs the opposite direction and snacking on some of the leftover food. “Things are going fine, I guess. No complaints. Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” he replied swiftly, his mouth downturned and shaking his head nonchalantly. “Was just curious. So he’s a good boyfriend? You’re happy, right?”
For some reason these questions knocked the breath out of you and despite how normal they were, you suddenly felt conflicted about how to answer them, so you just replied automatically, “Oh, yeah, he’s great. We’re great. Everything’s great.”
“Cool! Yeah, that’s good” Jongseob answered, pressing the issue no further, his eyebrows raised inoffensively, attempting to show you he truly didn’t want to be nosy. He rarely asked you stuff like this, so it had caught you off guard, but you were particularly disturbed by the fact that your first instinct was to feel conflicted, rather than confident, when answering his questions in the way you had. 
You truly had no complaints about Intak. He was kind, funny, and very thoughtful. He did everything right, he was considerate, and he never made you feel uncomfortable. So why, why , did you start to feel that funny feeling in your gut when Jongseob asked you about it?
“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by that, I was just trying to make conversation, are you okay?” Jongseob asked, concern straining his features. You realized you’d started staring off into nowhere and biting the inside of your cheek nervously, and felt immediately regret that you’d probably made him feel like he upset you. “Oh shit, I was just zoning out, you’re totally fine,” you responded, shaking your head vehemently, waving your hands back and forth erratically. 
“Okay bro, as long as you’re sure,” he said, not looking convinced, but picked up one of his books and started reading, one arm up under his head for support. You’d brought one of your own books as well because you knew he’d probably want to spend part of the picnic getting at least a little work done, and laid on your stomach parallel to him, propped up on your elbows. 
It had been only around ten minutes before you heard a faint snoring coming from right next to you. You smiled, turning quietly to find Jongseob’s book resting on his face. You took a moment to take in the scene, noting the way his shirt had ridden up just enough to show his belly button, the tan skin of his stomach smooth and soft looking. One hand rested on his chest and you were surprised that it, too, looked very soft, his fingers long and delicate.
You stifled a giggle. The guy probably hadn’t done a day’s labor in his entire life. No, his work was all done with that wrinkly brain - his hands completely callous-free. But it wasn’t just that. They were so…pretty. He was pretty. You were only just now realizing this, only just now seeing him as more than your little brother’s friend. You felt oddly guilty entertaining these thoughts, but there was no harm in looking, right? 
You decided to ignore your conscience as you laid on your side facing him and stared at the way his chest rose and fell with each soft snore. You felt warmth deep on your body, spreading through each limb. You were glad he’d agreed to come on this picnic with you. You were glad that the two of you seemed to be becoming actual friends, connected by more than just Shota. You were glad. You were…
… waking up to the calming scent of a bright, botanical, masculine cologne, your face touching something, your arm around someone, you were …
… you were waking up turned on your right side, your face pushed up against Jongseob’s arm, your left hand resting on his chest. You sucked in a sharp breath and sat up in a panic, accidentally pushing on his chest for leverage and eliciting a fit of coughing from him as he laughed at your reaction. Your stomach hurt and your heart was racing. 
You sat up, disoriented, and looked around. It was still light out, but you couldn’t tell what time it was. You turned back towards Jongseob and he was in the same position lying down, eyes trained on his book, but now suppressing a devilish smile. “Jesus, I’m sorry,” you apologized, feeling a shameful heat rise to your face. “How long was I out for?” 
He looked over at you, his face neutral as he looked up to think for a moment. Eyes back on you, he responded, “Not that long, but I’m not 100% sure since you were sleeping when I woke up. Don’t worry about it. You’re pretty cuddly, so it could have been worse.”
Your jaw dropped in shock, flabbergasted that he would use your own line against you, and he laughed, a positively evil twinkle in his eye and his crooked canines on full display. He was such a little shit sometimes, but you guessed it was karma for teasing him that one time he drunkenly slept in your bed. Your face got warmer at the memory, and you did your best to suppress it as you smacked him playfully in response, pretending to be mad. He didn’t fight back though, bunching up his shoulders and cringing away from your attack as he continued reading.
Not long after, the both of you packed everything up and headed back to the apartment. The drive home was quiet, but comfortably so. You were surprised at how peaceful you felt, even after the embarrassment of falling asleep on him in the park. Jongseob was so different from Shota, especially when the two of them weren’t together, and it dawned on you that you deeply enjoyed his company. Being around him was just so easy and comfortable. 
The two of you walked into your apartment to find Shota back home, and your stomach did a little flip as you saw that Keeho and Intak had come over as well. Intak immediately jumped up to help you with the cooler, fussing enough that you couldn’t fight back, while Shota interrogated you from the couch, demanding to know where the two of you had been.
“Oh, y’know me, just got done taking Jongseob’s picnic virginity,” you responded flippantly, and as soon as the words passed your lips, you desperately wanted to put a gun in your mouth and pull the trigger. Intak’s face fell in confusion, contorted in grief, Shota looked at you, completely disgusted, and Keeho burst out with an ear-piercing string of laughter. You looked at Jongseob, whose face was unreadable but visibly embarrassed, and as Keeho’s laughing slowed down he said “Aww, baby’s first picnic! Cute!”
Intak’s face relaxed in relief as he said “Oh, that’s what you meant?” You shrugged, and said “Yeah, sorry,”  feeling just as confused about it as he was. Why did you say the dumbest shit sometimes? You looked over at Shota with pleading eyes and he just shook his head at you but was finally smiling, as he turned his focus back to the video game that he had been playing when you walked in. “Well, did you have fun?” Intak asked as he put his arms around you and pressed his lips to your forehead. You should have found the gesture sweet, but for some reason it felt oddly territorial, the vibes not quite feeling right. You slid out of his hold and smiled sweetly. “Yeah, the weather was great today. It was super relaxing. How was dance for y’all?” you replied, making smalltalk as Jongseob settled on the couch next to Shota, his face still unreadable. 
You kept your eyes on Jongseob and as he looked over at you and offered a weak smile that didn’t reach his eyes, Intak put his arms around you once again from the side this time, and kissed the top of your head. “It was good, just exhausting,” he said, leaning into your body. 
You kept your eyes on Jongseob’s, and he stared back at you for what felt like the longest moments of your life, and then he was looking back at the TV, and Intak was showing you the moves they went over in dance practice that day, and your heart felt weird in your chest.
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Chapter 6: Please Go
Knock knock knock!
The sound jarred you from your concentration, nearly causing you to poke your eye out with your mascara wand. “ What ?” you screamed in the direction of your closed bedroom door. “Can I come in?” you heard Shota yell. Weird, you thought, since he rarely tried coming into your room. 
“Sure?” you responded, confusion in your voice, and you heard the door open and latch gently behind him. He shuffled through your bedroom to where you were standing, leaning towards your bathroom mirror and working on your eye makeup. “What’s up?” you asked him without taking your eyes off your own reflection, face probably looking ridiculous as you made that ugly expression everyone makes when putting on mascara.
“Would you, uh… can I… um… well, I was just thinking…” Shota stumbled over his words, and sounded unusually nervous, which caught your attention. You paused and looked over to see that his cheeks looked hot, and your protective instincts took over. “Hey, man, what is it? You okay?” 
He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. “Yeah I’m fine, it’s nothing bad. I just wanted to know… if you would mind… helping me with some makeup?”
Your expression went from momentarily shocked to a devious smile, and you couldn’t help walking over and hugging him. “Of course I wouldn’t mind,” you responded, arms wrapped around him tightly. “Go grab a chair from the dining room.”
That night, you and the guys were going clubbing. Clubbing , of all things. It had been Intak’s idea, an idea that Shota and Keeho were both fond of, but you were surprised that Jiung, Jongseob, and Theo had agreed to go. They were much more reluctant to go out, preferring to stay inside most of the time, away from large crowds. You found your own preferences falling somewhere in between the two groups, but despite your nervousness about going dancing with a bunch of, well, dancers , you were excited to see what the night would bring. 
Shota dragged a chair into your cramped bathroom and sat down in it, his hands resting in his lap, looking up at you with the most pitiful puppy eyes imaginable. Your heart melted at the sight. “So,” you began carefully, not wanting to scare him away, “what did you have in mind?”
“I dunno,” he replied, shrugging and looking at himself in the mirror.
“Are we thinking full face, or something more natural, or something more grungy–”
“That one. Grungy. Just maybe some dark stuff around the eyes,” he responded, quicker than you expected. You smiled, pulling out some eyeliner, brushes, and a couple other things you wanted to possibly experiment with. 
Not long after, Shota was looking in the mirror at his fully smoked-out eyes and trying in vain to suppress a smile. Your reflection smiled at his as he made eye contact in the mirror with you. “Not to toot my own horn, but you look really good,” you said with a wink. “But there’s one other thing I want to try if you’ll let me.” He sat down eagerly, awaiting the next step. You rummaged through your makeup and found a pinky-nude lip stain and some thick, glittery gloss, and applied them to his lips in that order. 
When he looked in the mirror this time, his eyes widened in shock. “What do you think?” you said quickly, “we can remove it if it’s not really the vibe.”
“No no, I love it,” Shota responded, angling his face back and forth in front of the mirror to catch the shimmer from the lip gloss. “It feels weird, but I like the way it looks. Thank you,” he said with a smile that was uncharacteristically shy. “No need to thank me, dude. You’re so damn pretty though, everyone’s gonna want a piece of you.” He laughed, pushing you gently, denying it adamantly. “Whatever… now go get dressed!” you demanded, and he scurried out of your room, a smile still plastered on his face.
You finished your makeup and threw on a pair of mid-rise baggy jeans, the waistband of your briefs peeking out of them, and paired it with a white crop top and oversized leather jacket. Maybe a little heavy for spring but you could take the jacket off if it got too hot. You looked yourself over in the mirror, and, as satisfied as you were going to be, headed out to the living room; it sounded like someone had arrived, anyway. 
Everyone had agreed to meet up at the apartment, and the first person who arrived was Intak. He was dressed in black jeans and a black fitted t-shirt tucked in, a silver belt buckle adorning his hips. His hair was styled immaculately, as usual. He looked, in a word, perfect. You greeted him with a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. You exchanged compliments and had begun to casually talk about the day when Jongseob came out of Shota’s room, dressed in an outfit that was simultaneously so inherently him , but also seemed like it might have been outside his comfort zone? You wondered about this, fighting the blush that crept into your cheeks.
He was wearing a white fitted t-shirt with red accents, low-rise dark-red baggy pants, and white sneakers. However, the pants were so low-rise and the t-shirt was so small that it exposed the tan skin of his tummy, just above his waistband. You knew he was usually fond of baggy clothes and had never seen him wear a shirt that was so, well, revealing. The sleeves hugged his small arms and the rest of it accentuated his narrow waist in a way that felt so feminine, and contrasted with the masculine confidence with which he walked up to you, hands shoved in his pockets casually. His hair was wavy and disheveled, no doubt an effortless-looking style that, in fact, had to have taken a considerable amount of effort. 
“Nice fit, bro!” you said, trying to act normal. He gave you a blank look in response, and just the shadow of a smile. “Thanks bro, you too,” he responded, his voice flat. You tried not to care, but it hurt. Jongseob had been distant since the picnic, which confused you, since it had seemed like you’d grown closer at that time. The image of him making eye contact with you while Intak kissed you flashed into your mind but you shoved it away. The distance could be caused by anything, and for all you knew, he was going through something that had nothing to do with you.
The rest of the crew finally showed up, including Keeho, who absolutely fawned over Shota’s makeup, hyping him up in a way that made you realize why he’d asked for it. Your heart swelled, and you were suddenly aware of how excited you were for the night out with everyone.
The club that Keeho had chosen was loud, colorful, and chic. The decorations were beautiful, you could feel the music in your gut, and the drinks were concerningly strong. You made a mental note to pace yourself, but didn’t hesitate to take a couple warm-up shots with the group before you all headed to the dance floor. You danced with Intak, embarrassed at your lack of any real skills, but encouraged by the warmth of the alcohol that had loosened both your body and inhibitions. He was incredibly easy to follow though, despite how fluidly he moved. 
Meanwhile, Jiung and Theo had started a dance battle in the middle of the floor. Jongseob was watching them, drink in hand, fully entertained, and Shota and Keeho were … well, you thought you’d known where they were, but it took you a moment to spot them. They were off to the side of the crowd, and your jaw dropped at the way Shota was grinding into Keeho; you looked away and laughed to yourself. You were glad that they were clearly having a good time. 
After a couple more songs, you told Intak you were tired and went to sit at the bar, and he went to join Jiung’s and Theo’s dance battle. Not long after, Jongseob came to sit next to you. “Hey, stranger,” you yelled over the music at him, and he winced, giving you a tight smile. “Hey. Are we good?” you asked, abandoning the hesitation that you might have had a couple drinks ago. 
“Yeah, we’re fine,” he responded, shrugging. “Why?” 
Your eyebrows knit together, slightly frustrated at his aloofness. “You just seem, I dunno. Like you’re avoiding me, lately. Did I do something to piss you off?”
He sighed, looking at his drink. “No, it’s not that,” he responded, without offering further explanation as he continued staring into his drink.  
“Aw, c’mon, you can tell me” you urged, pushing his shoulder gently, but he shied away from your touch. “Hey y/n, knock it off. I’m not some kid that you can just push around,” he snapped back, but immediately looked horrified. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”
“Is that how you think I view you?” you interrupted, unable to mask the hurt in your voice. 
“No!” he replied immediately, then continued, “Well, fuck. I…” he sighed, rubbing his face, clearly exasperated. “I dunno… I guess after the way everyone babied me when they found out I hadn’t been on a picnic, and then the way they responded after you took me on one, it kinda left a bad taste in my mouth.”
Your face fell, and you felt yourself sobering up immediately as you realized exactly what he meant, and why he felt like this. How could you be so stupid and insensitive? You opened your mouth to reply but Jongseob’s face went from sadness to panic as his gaze focused on something past you and he started to stand from the barstool. You looked behind you but didn’t see anything, and snapped back towards him. “What? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Shota, I swear I just saw him rushing to the bathroom, I should–”
“Yeah, please go,” you responded as he abandoned his drink and jogged briskly around the corner. You sipped your own drink, feeling your heart sink. Not only was Jongseob mad at you, but now Shota was probably sick and you’d have to take care of him tonight. You groaned, pounding the last of your drink and promptly ordering another.
“Damn, long week?” a familiar voice asked from your other side, as you looked over to see Theo joining you at the bar. He looked gorgeous tonight, which was really just his baseline. He’d worn a pair of fitted black jeans and a beige sweater that showed off his defined collarbones; he’d also been growing his black hair out this past year and it reached his shoulders at this point. He definitely intimidated you the most out of all of Shota’s dance friends, you thought, his dark eyes piercing into you as he awaited your response. 
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you replied dryly, sipping your drink as you noticed a text notification pop up on your phone, which was sitting on the bar. “Ah shit, sorry Theo, I’m not trying to be rude but I need to check this,” you said as he waved, dismissing you. 
js: hey, it sounds like something might have happened with shota and keeho? idk the details yet, he won’t tell me which is p weird. :/ but he’s crying. i’m tryna comfort him but he won’t let me in the stall :(
You pocketed your phone without another thought. “Goddammit, I gotta go see what’s going on with Shota. Would you mind watching my drink?” you asked Theo, to which he wordlessly replied, pulling your drink towards his. 
You speedwalked around the corner, stressed beyond belief. Shota was crying ? About Keeho? What the hell happened?
You burst into the men’s bathroom past the urinals to where Jongseob had his face up against a stall door, trying to coax Shota into talking to him. But Shota just continued saying “Please, go.” You heard sniffles coming from behind the stall door and ignored the looks you got from a couple of the men at urinals; you didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything at this moment, other than what had happened to your little brother.
“Shota? It’s me, can you let me in, buddy?” you asked as softly as you could, your voice strained with worry. The sniffles paused for a couple moments, then the door quietly unlatched, opening up to reveal Shota’s tear-streaked face, his makeup an absolute mess. His lip quivered as you stepped into the stall and pulled him into a hug and held him while he sobbed quietly. You looked over at Jongseob who gave you a knowing look, as he shut the door behind the two of you and, you were sure, stood watch.
“Shhh,” you cooed, stroking Shota’s disheveled hair. “You’re okay, you’re okay.” He whimpered in response, and after a minute or two of being held by you, his breathing finally steadying, he said, his voice still shaky, “I’m so stupid.”
“Shota, don’t say that, you’re anything but stupid. Annoying, yes, chaotic, even more so, but stupid… not even close,” you retorted, pulling away and wiping his tears away but smudging his makeup even more. “Do you want to tell me why you feel like that? Will you tell me what happened?”
He looked to the side, clearly embarrassed, and his lower lip trembled again. His shoulders slumped, as he explained the way he’d been dancing with Keeho until Jiung and Intak found them and commented on the way they’d been dancing together. 
“Yeah, he’s all over me, it’s so cute; he must like me or something,” Keeho had told them, laughing it off casually, likely not realizing that Shota was just barely in earshot. This was all Shota had needed to hear to know that not only did Keeho not return his feelings, but to add insult to injury, Shota had made a complete fool of himself.
“I thought… that I’d read the situation right. Why would he dance with me like that if he didn’t feel the same?” Shota asked, face crumpling again, and you pulled him into another embrace as he cried. Meanwhile, your stomach was in knots, and a hot rage burned in your chest. You squeezed him tightly, eyes starting to wet. “You stay here, I’ll be back,” you said with a scowl that you couldn’t hide, and Shota immediately knew what was happening.
“Wait, y/n, please don’t – I don’t want to –” he pleaded, but that’s all you heard as you stormed out the bathroom door and back into the noisy club. You were disoriented, the stress of your earlier conversation with Jongseob entirely eclipsed by the protective wrath coursing through your body at the knowledge that someone, Shota’s friend , of all people, had made him feel so rotten. Had laughed at him, humiliated him.
As you stormed towards the dance floor, you heard Shota far behind you. He was clearly trying to catch up to you and stop you, and it sounded like Jongseob was following close behind him, but you were too angry to care. Shota had always been such a pacifist. You had to protect him, because he wouldn’t protect himself. You wouldn’t allow him to be treated this way, even if he didn’t have the strength to fight back.
You spotted Keeho casually dancing with the others. “Hey, asshole,” you yelled at him, and he whipped around towards you, face full of confusion, likely not even entirely sure you were talking to him. But before you got within enough range of him to really let him have it, you felt your foot go out from under you as you accidentally stepped into someone’s spilled drink, and everything went black.
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Chapter 7: Don't Go (pt. 2)
You woke to the beeping sound matching up to your heartbeat, and immediately noticed a dull ache in your head as you slowly opened your eyes. It took a few moments for the room to come into view but the first thing you noticed was Shota draped over the left side of the bed, seemingly asleep… not your own bed, though. A hospital bed? You looked to the other side of the room and saw another familiar figure sitting in a chair, staring at his phone, blonde curls shading his face as he slumped forward. 
You sighed, groaning quietly as you slightly adjusted your position on the bed and his head snapped up to look at you, eyes looking exhausted. In less than a moment though, he was on his feet, hovering over you but clearly unsure of what to do. 
“Y/n, hey, how are you feeling?” Jongseob said, his eyes wide, full of fear. “Do you need anything? Water? Are you in pain?”
You smiled at his concern. “Nah, my head hurts but I think I’m okay. What the hell happened?”
“You slipped,” he replied, mouth downturned. “Your head hit the floor. Hard. Be careful of the left side of your forehead, they had to give you some stitches.” You instinctively reached your hand up and gently touched the bandage covering the wound, wincing at the sensitivity. “H-hey, I said be careful,” he said, snatching your hand gently away from your head. 
In that moment, the door opened quietly and Intak peeked in. You looked back at him and smiled, releasing Jongseob’s hand, and Jongseob stepped away from the bed, allowing space for Intak to come closer and see you. 
“Oh my god, hi baby,” he said, his face marred with worry as he brushed your hair back gently and kissed the side of your head opposite the bandage. “How are you feeling?” 
“Head hurts but otherwise I feel alright,” you replied, noting out of the corner of your eye that Jongseob jolted like he remembered something, and rushed out of the room. “What happened?” you asked, trying to remember what had led up to your head hitting the dance floor. 
“Well, it looked like you were on your way to kick Keeho’s ass,” Intak began, and at the mention of his name, it all came flooding back to you and you stopped hearing the rest of his words. Jongseob being upset with you, then Shota crying in the bathroom. What Keeho had said about him to the others. The blind rage you’d felt as you marched out to confront him.
“Where is that fucker?!” you demanded, sitting up a little, but moving gently enough not to wake Shota. Intak grabbed your shoulders and rubbed them in an attempt to calm you, looking worried that you were going to leap up out of bed. You glanced at the IV in your arm and considered removing it. “Don’t,” Intak interrupted your thoughts, giving you a pitying but understanding smile. “Everything’s fine, we got it worked out. Keeho’s been, uh, spoken to,” he said, giving you a nervous smile. 
“What? How? No, it needs to be me, I need to—“ 
“Jongseob did it,” he cut in. You blinked once. Twice. “I know,” he said with a smile. “I was shocked too, but damn. I didn’t know he could yell that loud.” Jongseob had yelled at Keeho? You asked Intak to explain from the beginning, and he told you that while Shota had ridden in the ambulance with you, Jiung had driven everyone else to the hospital. 
The moment Keeho, sitting in the front seat, had made a comment about you being clumsy, it was like something had cracked in Jongseob. He had immediately started laying into Keeho, telling him that this situation was his fault, that if he hadn’t been flirting with Shota and then talking shit about him behind his back, you wouldn’t have come rushing out like that to confront him. 
Your heart swelled as you listened to Intak’s story. You couldn’t remember a time when you’d ever heard Jongseob shout in anger. The fact that he’d done it for Shota’s sake didn’t surprise you, but for your sake? You felt the edges of your psyche softening and your muscles relaxing. 
Intak continued, recounting that after they arrived, Jongseob ordered Keeho to make it up to Shota, which had apparently happened. Once it had been confirmed that you were safe and stable, Keeho admitted to Shota in front of everyone in the empty hospital waiting room that he’d had a crush on Shota and that he was just trying to look cool in front of them, and he asked Shota’s forgiveness. 
“I’ve never seen Keeho do something like that and honestly never thought I’d see the day, but I think he legitimately thought the little guy was going to kill him,” he said, laughing, and inwardly you winced. Little guy. Baby’s first picnic. You reminded yourself to have a conversation with Jongseob later and apologize, realizing much too late that he probably hated people talking about him, and to him, like that. 
“Yeah, well that ‘little guy’ has bigger balls than the rest of that group if he’s the only one who stood up to Keeho like that,” you replied, your tone sharper than you’d intended. Intak looked taken aback and a little embarrassed, despite the fact that he wasn’t even involved. “Yeah, of course, I agree,” he said, flushing slightly. “What Keeho did… that was really messed up.”
“Is Shota okay? How did he respond?” you asked, looking down at his sleeping form affectionately. Intak replied, “He seemed really embarrassed at first and the whole thing was painfully awkward, but they went off to talk privately and came back hand in hand, so I think he’s okay.” He winked. You smiled and sighed, feeling conflicted but relieved. 
The next moment, there was a knock on the door and a doctor walked in with a nurse and started asking you questions, so Intak backed out of their way. You noticed Jongseob had come in behind them. Did he leave to tell them that you’d woken up? 
Intak squeezed your hand before stepping out of the room, wanting to give the medical team space to work. Your doctor began a neuro exam, explaining that it seemed you’d sustained a mild concussion but that your scans had otherwise been normal. After completing the exam, the doctor left the room, but before the nurse left,  she gestured towards Jongseob, and said, “You should be grateful to have people like this in your life. This young man stayed by your side constantly, making notes about any activity he noticed while you were asleep. Any time your vitals seemed the slightest bit off, he came running out to us and asked us to check on you. Plus, he knew all your allergies and even some of your meds. He’s a keeper,” she said with a wink, exiting the room. 
Jongseob looked at the wall, face clearly burning up at the mistaken suggestion that he, rather than Intak, was your boyfriend. “Seob…You did all that? For me?” you asked, feeling your throat tighten with emotion. He fixed his gaze on you, face full of a mixture of emotions that you couldn’t place. Sadness? Relief? Affection? 
“Of course I did,” he said, offering no further explanation, eyes still boring into yours. 
You cleared your throat nervously. “I also heard what you did for Shota. What you said to Keeho.” 
“Yeah. It needed to be said,” Jongseob replied, a hint of anger in his voice that didn’t reach his eyes. 
You reached a hand towards him and he raised an eyebrow inquisitively, but placed his hand in yours, and in the next moment, you were sitting forward and pulling him towards you into a tight embrace. His arms hovered for a moment before wrapping around your back gently. You buried your face in his chest, eyes squeezed shut, and held him there. 
“Thank you,” you whispered after a long pause. He didn’t respond for several moments and you started to worry, but finally he replied, his voice low and soft, “It was nothing.” 
As you released him, Shota began to stir. He looked up at you with sleep still in his eyes, face looking ghastly, makeup smeared even more than before. “Y/n, you’re awake,” he said with a sleepy smile. “How are you feeling? Are you doing okay?” 
The questions were getting repetitive but you couldn’t say you minded. You’d felt very loved since the moment you awoke. “Yeah, I’m doing fine. Just a mild concussion, but otherwise all my tests apparently came back normal,” you replied, giving him a reassuring smile. 
“Good, you scared the shit out of me,” he said, leaning over to hug you. “Is everyone still out there?” he asked, looking at Jongseob. “Yeah, I think so. I know Intak’s out there and last I checked, the rest of them were as well.” 
“Wait, what? Tell them to go home and get some sleep!” you insisted, not realizing that Jiung, Theo, and Keeho were all outside the room as well. Jongseob laughed. “They’ve all been too worried to leave; plus, they feel horrible about the entire situation… especially Keeho.” You narrowed your eyes at this last comment and looked at Shota, who blushed and looked down sheepishly. “Yeah, you’d better bet he’s on thin ice, Shota,” you scolded, to which he nodded, understanding. “But if what Intak said was true, I’ll withhold my judgment. For now! If he hurts you again, it’s game over.” 
Shota nodded again but couldn’t control the shy smile that had overtaken his face. “Okay, enough, go see him,” you said, giving him a little push from the bed, and he blushed, walking out of the room. You turned towards Jongseob, who suddenly looked like he felt incredibly out of place, and he turned to leave. “I’ll, uh, go see if Intak wants to–”
“Don’t go. Please,” you argued, grabbing his hand and stopping him in his tracks. He stared at you for a moment, before pulling his chair up to the side of the bed and sitting. “Okay,” he replied quietly. You cleared your throat. “About what you said to me earlier at the bar–”
“Just forget it,” he interrupted you, firmly but not rudely. “I feel like such an asshole for moping so long the way I did. It’s just stupid. It doesn’t matter. You just need to work on feeling better, so please don’t worry about me.” 
You could tell he’d been ruminating about this, the way it all came spilling out. “Okay, I hear you, but I’m still gonna say this,” you replied, grabbing his hand and forcing him to look at you. “You are one of the coolest, most intelligent, and most thoughtful and talented people I know,” you began. His cheeks turned pink and his eyes darted to the side, but you continued, “It is never okay for you to feel like anyone around you is belittling you. If you ever feel like that again, I am begging you to please tell me.”
His eyes searched the room, looking anywhere but yours, before finally making eye contact. “Okay, fine, whatever you say,” he responded reluctantly, and you gave his hand a firm squeeze before letting it go. You laid your head back and took a deep breath, suddenly feeling drowsy. You looked at the clock and it read 4:18am. “Dude, you should get outta here, go get some sleep. I’ll just get a taxi when they release me” you insisted, feeling the heaviness of his fatigue from where you laid. He didn’t say anything, just shook his head adamantly, then propped his arms on the side of the bed and rested his head there. It wasn’t long before sleep took him, the room soon filled with nothing but the sound of the hospital monitor beeping and the sound of his light snoring. 
Before you knew it, you were being woken up by the nurse with your discharge paperwork; you were finally getting to go home. He went over the instructions with you and made sure you understood that you needed to take it easy, get lots and lots of rest, and come back to the hospital if you developed any concerning symptoms. Jongseob was awake at this point as well, no doubt listening intently to the nurse’s advice. 
You sat up and sat on the edge of the bed carefully, hospital gown bunching uncomfortably around your lap, and you looked around the room as Jongseob grabbed the plastic bag with your belongings that he’d stowed underneath his chair and handed it to you. You thanked him and went to stand, but felt a little dizzy when your feet touched the ground and needed to brace yourself on the bed. He held his hands out for you to steady yourself and you laughed, embarrassed. “They said this would be normal at first but damn, how annoying.” 
“Yeah,” Jongseob responded, face concerned. “Wait here, don’t move,” he said as he left the room in a rush. You held onto the edge of the bed for support. A few moments later, Intak came in, eyes wide as he approached you. “Jongseob said you… needed some help?” he said, blushing slightly, and that’s when you realized: he’d asked Intak to come in and help you get dressed. You laughed, face turning red, and nodded. “Yeah, sorry… I got up to get dressed but it looks like I’m still a bit wobbly on my feet.” 
He nodded agreeably and helped keep you steady while you got dressed, taking special care not to stare; truly, such a gentleman. As he walked you out, his arm hooked in yours, you took in the sight of the waiting room: Jiung was sleeping in a chair, head leaned back and arms crossed; Jongseob was showing Theo something on his phone; and Keeho and Shota were sleeping in each other’s arms, Shota straddling his lap like a baby. Entirely inappropriate for a medical setting, but it was the middle of the night and nobody’d come to make them stop. You figured they routinely saw much worse than this.
Jongseob and Theo awoke the others once they saw you walking out and they all started fretting over you, Keeho standing back nervously. Once you made eye contact with him though, he bowed his head deeply. “I’m really sorry, y/n.” Keeho was usually so goofy and unserious that it made you uncomfortable seeing him so serious, but you let him continue. “I feel like this was partially my fault, so I really wanna make it up to you. Whatever I can do, whatever you need, I’m–”
“You’re fine, just be good to my brother, or else you’ll find out what I was gonna do if I’d made it across the dance floor,” you said with a wry smile. He gulped, nodding and bowing his head again. “Yeah yeah, I hear you. Understood,” he responded as Shota subtly grabbed one of Keeho’s hands in both of his own, and snuggled up against him. Your smile softened. You were just relieved that they’d finally figured out their bullshit.
Back home, Intak tried convincing you to let him stay the night but you insisted you were fine; Shota would be there and Jongseob already planned on spending the night as well. Intak seemed disappointed but didn’t push the issue. “Text me in the morning, okay? I just need to know you’re okay,” he pleaded, and you agreed, kissing him sweetly. 
You thanked Jiung for driving everyone home in his exhausted state, and thanked him, Theo, and Keeho for staying at the hospital to make sure you were okay. You’d never felt so cared for in your whole life and although you felt incredibly guilty, you couldn’t deny some buried part of yourself relished the attention. 
Shota and Jongseob helped you up the stairs, Shota to your side and Jongseob behind both of you. Once inside, they followed you around to the point that it was almost becoming too much to bear. You were starting to feel more steady on your feet and less nauseous, but they insisted on seeing that you made it to bed safely. Once you were in your pajamas and under the covers, Shota and Jongseob came in and made sure your phone was plugged in and charging, painkillers with water on your nightstand, and told you to make sure you left your door cracked so they could check on you. 
You rolled your eyes at how pushy they were, but it was truly so sweet, so you just went along with it. As they headed out, you asked Jongseob to hang back for a second. Shota gave him a questioning look but left your bedroom as Jongseob came over to your bed and you patted it, inviting him to sit down. You sat up, sleep shirt draped over you much more comfortably than the hospital gown had been, and pulled him into another tight hug. “Thank you again, for everything,” you spoke into his chest. 
A few seconds passed and you waited for him to let go, but he didn’t. More seconds passed, and as your heart sped up, you could feel his racing as well. He rested his chin on your head and stroked your hair a couple times, making you feel like your bones were made of rubber. Uh oh , you thought, as your body screamed at you to let go, to end contact, to push him away. 
He let go before you were able to, his face flushed a pretty pink. He looked down and then up at you. “I told you. It was nothing,” he said softly, then promptly sat up and before shutting your door, said “Sleep well, y/n.”
The door latched and your body was throbbing; your head from the concussion, and your heart from…whatever that was. You decided it would be a question for your tomorrow self as you drifted off into a fitful sleep.
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Chapter 8: I'm Gonna Go
The rest of the weekend went by without much drama: you’d texted Intak in the morning, as requested, to let him know you were alive, Keeho took Shota on their first date (complete with showing up to the door with a dozen roses – he was keenly intent on making it up to him), and Jongseob had taken to cooking for you and doing mostly everything around the house since Shota was a little distracted by his new relationship. 
When the week began, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to go to work, but you managed just fine. Jongseob was back at his dorm, Keeho was over nearly every night, and before the following weekend came, Intak asked to come over. This was unusual for him, since you usually only saw him on the weekends, but you certainly didn’t mind. 
The two of you decided to use the living room to watch a movie while Shota and Keeho hung out in Shota’s bedroom. “No Jongseob today?” Intak asked as you scrolled through the streaming app looking for something to watch. “Nah,” you responded, “he doesn’t actually live here, believe it or not,” you said with a laugh. “Definitely here every weekend though. Our place is way better for studying than his dorm, since he’s got noisy roommates.”
“Ah,” Intak responded thoughtfully. “So… he just comes here to do homework?”
“I mean, yeah. And to hang out with Shota, a mix of both. They’ve been best friends for years so this is kind of a second home for him. He’s a good guest and a sweet guy, so I don’t mind.” 
“Makes sense,” he said, and as you turned towards him, his neutral face shifted quickly into a sweet smile, his brown eyes shining. You smiled back at him and the both of you descended into a comfortable silence as the movie started. It was an intense romance, full of drama, passion, and steamy sex scenes. 
However, about halfway through the movie, you felt your phone vibrate. You glanced at it out of habit and would normally ignore it, but you saw that it was Jongseob, asking how you were doing. It probably could have waited, but you worried that he’d get concerned if you didn’t respond quickly enough, so you pulled up the text to respond to him, your stomach doing something weird. You pushed away the feeling, pushed away the memory of the long hug the prior weekend, shoved it all deep, deep down without a second thought. 
js: hey y/n, how are u feeling? have u needed to take any painkillers lately?
y/n: nah, i’ve actually been okay. thank u for checking on me! you’re the best.
js: whatever dude, just stay away from slippery floors :P
y/n: u don’t gotta tell me twice… lol
You slipped your phone back in your pocket, looked back up at the movie and felt Intak’s eyes on you. You looked over, and he looked… sad. Sadder than you’d ever seen him, his mouth unsmiling, eyes larger than usual. “Hey,” you said, turning towards him. “Are you okay?” 
“No, I’m not,” he replied, turning away as he sniffled loudly. Fuck. What could be going on? you wondered. You put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it reassuringly. “Baby, what’s wrong?” you asked, horrified at seeing Intak upset like this for the first time. He was usually all smiles, his demeanor relaxed, without a care in the world.
Intak swiped a stray tear and looked down at his lap, then over at you, lip trembling, then got himself under control. He took a deep breath and smiled bitterly. “Sorry,” he said with a nervous laugh. “I don’t really know how to say this, but I’m just gonna go for it.
“Y/n, I don't think this is going to work out. You and me, I mean,” he blurted out, and you felt like you’d been slapped. “I can tell that you’re not as into me as I’m into you, and that was fine at first, but I don’t think I can handle being second best in your world.” Second best? you thought. What was that supposed to mean? 
“I’m sorry for just ending it like this but I need to protect myself before I fall too hard for you. I like you more and more each day and I can tell it’s not the same for you. I’m not mad, just disappointed. It’s not your fault, it’s just how shit goes sometimes,” he said, another stray tear slipping out. 
You felt frozen, a lump in your throat, and although you wanted to say something, needed to say something, anything…no words came. The worst part was that you knew he was right: you had known early on that this relationship would need to stay casual at most, but you were still disappointed that you’d hurt Intak in the process. You didn’t anticipate it ending this way, but you weren’t sure what you expected in the first place. You supposed that you just selfishly wanted the attention, and the companionship. 
You finally snapped out of your self-pitying trance and swallowed the lump in your throat. “Intak, I’m really sorry. I think… you’re not wrong,” you began, and he nodded, face sullen but understanding. “I really like you, but it’s true. I do think something’s missing, and it’s not your fault in any way, so please don’t beat yourself up.” Your head throbbed and tears wetted your eyes. Why was this so hard?
You pulled him over to you and he laid his head in your lap, sniffling quietly. You ran your fingers through his dark hair gently, trying to soothe his pain. “For what it’s worth, you’ve been an absolutely perfect boyfriend,” you said, grasping at any attempt to make him feel better. He laughed wryly, responding, “I appreciate it, but that doesn’t really help.” He sat up, and continued, “I’ll be fine in a little while, and I hope we can still be friends if you want. But right now, I think I’m gonna go.”
You nodded, understanding, and he grabbed his jacket quietly and left. You remained on the couch, and stared at the wall blankly, the movie still playing quietly on the TV screen. You weren’t sure how you felt. Numb? Sad? Relieved?
In that moment, Shota and Keeho came out of Shota’s bedroom, laughing, and asked nonchalantly, “What’s up? Where’d Intak go?”
You wiped your eyes roughly and gave them a weak smile, and said, “I think I just got dumped.”
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Chapter 9: Don't Go Pt. 3 (Please Stay)
You woke up Saturday morning with that familiar ache in your lower belly. Recovering from a concussion, got dumped two days ago, and now my period comes? Great, real fucking great. A lazy ray of light came through the bedroom window, illuminating the walls, the piles of clothing on the floor, the clutter that had built up over the past two days while you wallowed in self pity. You ran your hand across your stomach gently. It wasn’t clear whether the weekend coming was a good thing, or a bad thing. On one hand, work had sucked ass. But on the other hand, it had at least kept you distracted.
You still couldn’t quite tell how you felt about your relationship with Intak ending. Your brain still felt fuzzy about it, and you couldn’t tell if it was the concussion, your emotions, or both. You laid and stared at the ceiling, taking a deep breath and blowing it out, long and slow. It hurt, but this was probably good. 
The situation with Intak was supposed to be casual from the start, but it had sounded like it had become more complicated for him. You felt relieved, but sad. You’d enjoyed the date nights out (and in), the long conversations, the way he always checked on you and was interested in what you had to say about, well, everything. You hadn’t deserved him, and he deserved more; someone who would love him. Maybe he’d started falling in love with you…
And with that agonizing thought, a wave of pain and nausea rode through your middle, forcing you out of the comfort of your bed. You pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and an old t-shirt and hobbled out into the kitchen. You pulled out your mug and started prepping the raspberry leaf tea, leaning against the counter and sighing. You fought the urge to just go back to bed but worried that it would just make you feel worse. You figured you should at least get something in your stomach, get some painkillers going, get the heating pad, all your routine comforts.
You looked around and noticed the dishes had been done and the house had been decluttered. The work of Jongseob again, no doubt. Ever since your hospital visit, something between you and him had shifted. He’d come over Friday night as he usually did, but like the previous weekend after your accident, he’d come over with groceries and forced Shota to help him cook dinner for you. Most of the time, Shota was pretty awful about chores, so you found that you had to take care of most of it or kick his ass trying to get him to help. However, Jongseob had basically begun to take over completely – funny, because he didn’t even live there, but it was nice nonetheless.
He didn’t know about you and Intak yet, and you weren’t really sure how to tell him. Maybe Shota already did? you wondered idly as you flipped the heating pad and added another minute to the microwave. As you pulled out the teabag and threw it in the trash, the door to Shota’s bathroom opened up, and out walked Jongseob, freshly showered. His hair, bleached and straw-like, stuck out in most directions, and he wore a black tank top with his usual gray oversized sweatpants. He didn’t wear tank tops often, and it struck you, like it usually did every time he wore anything form-fitting, how tiny he was – the bare skin of his arms soft-looking and tan, and his collar bones prominent above the hem of his shirt.
“Oh hey, good morning y/n,” he said, seeming slightly startled at your presence in the kitchen and beginning to fix his hair self-consciously –but  to no avail; it just ended up getting more and more tangled and he gave up, smiling awkwardly. 
“How are you feeling?” he asked, cutting in front of you to grab the heating pad out of the microwave as soon as it went off. Okay bro, calm down , you couldn’t help thinking.
“Uh, thanks,” you said as he handed it to you. “Been better, but at least it’s the weekend. Sometimes when it rains it just pours.”
“What do you mean? Are you having any headaches? Is your vision okay? Have you tried calling the doctor, or do you need to go back to–”
“I’m fine, I just don’t feel great is all,” you butted in, suddenly feeling surprisingly impatient with the conversation. “I do have the headaches from time to time but they said it was normal. I just didn’t need mother nature to arrive at the same time, if you know what I mean.”
He looked at the tea and the heating pad and a look of realization dawned on his face. “Ah, shit, sorry. Yeah, I guess I should have realized.”
“No worries,” you said with a smile as you sipped your tea. “Not your job to keep track of my cycle, dude.”
Heat crept up his neck into his face as an awkward silence hung between the two of you, the refrigerator making a low humming noise.
“Um, is.. Shota here?” you asked, attempting whatever you could to break the silence. 
“No, he spent the night at Keeho’s last night,” Jongseob answered. “Is… that okay?”
You didn’t follow. “What do you mean? Is what okay?”
He swallowed. “Like, that I stayed here last night. You were already sleeping when he decided he was going over there, so we didn’t have a chance to ask if that was okay. You know, like, me staying over here overnight without him,” he said, hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet, then to the side, anywhere but your face.
“Jongseob,” you began, catching his attention and finally getting him to look you in the eye. “You’re my friend too – not just Shota’s. I don’t give a shit if you stay overnight, with or without him. In fact, I’d just as well switch the two of you out, given the way you’ve been helping out around here lately. Hell, tell him to stay at Keeho’s forever and you can have his room,” you retorted with a mischievous smile, rolling your eyes, and he burst out laughing, the thick tension dissipating from the room.
“It’s more than just that,” he said, swiping a tear from his eye after finishing his laughing fit, “I don’t know how to say this without making it sound strange, but I didn’t want to… make things weird for Intak. Like, I dunno if he’d have a problem with something like that.”
You had just taken a sip of your tea and started coughing at this statement, your cramps acting up in response to the abdominal contractions, and you felt like you’d die for just a moment. Jongseob waved his hands apologetically, saying, “Sorry, I dunno what I just did, but I’m sorry!”
You laughed bitterly and waved your hand dismissively, sipping some tea to quell the burning in your throat. “No, it’s just that uh… there’s no need to worry about that. Intak and I are done.”
The finality of the statement burned in your throat and you took another sip of your tea, studying Jongseob’s face as you divulged the information, curious to see if it would look like he already knew, if Shota had gossiped about it to him already. But the shocked look on Jongseob’s face indicated that he had not; that this was news to him.
“Shit, um, I didn’t know. Sorry,” he said, crossing his arms and looking down at his feet.
“It’s all good, just still a little fresh,” you responded, and he nodded sympathetically, then looked back up at you. “Are you… okay? Do you like, want to talk or anything?”
“I’m good, thanks though. Think I probably need to just lay down for the time being.”
“Okay, well you know I’m out here just working on homework, so whatever you need, just let me know.”
“Thanks Seob, I will,” you responded, nodding appreciatively.
You headed back to the bedroom and felt a swirl of emotions as you crawled back under your comforter and placed the heating pad across your lower belly, sighing at the relief brought by the warmth. One moment you felt elated, the next you felt guilty, and the next, you felt like you wanted to sleep for 72 hours and wake up a whole new person with a new life. None of it made any sense. 
You opened up your laptop and started watching a random movie, but the first hint of anything sad in the movie pushed you to tears, and you pressed pause. You wiped at your eyes and took a few steadying breaths. What the hell was wrong with you?  
You scrolled on your phone for a little bit, trying to distract you, but the feeling gnawed at you.
  Loneliness. 
This was the first time you’d really spent any alone time in many weeks; since the accident, since the breakup, since before you even started dating Intak… and it felt absolutely terrible. When did you become so needy? 
Knock knock knock!
“Come in,” you said, feeling defeated, as Jongseob poked his head in. “Hey, just checking in. Does your heating pad need re-heated?” 
You smiled. The guy would make someone a very happy girlfriend someday, you considered, but immediately, your stomach felt funny at the thought. You tried to ignore the sensation as you stared blankly at him, noting the way his almost-dry hair hung across his forehead, the curve of his mouth. Had his lips always been that full?
“Hey… you good?” he asked, concern marring his features as you realized you’d just been staring at him like an idiot. You blushed fiercely. You’d just been looking at him, really looking at him. Were you so lonely that you were at risk of crushing on your baby brother’s best friend?
“Nah, but I’ll be fine,” you forced out, trying your best to choke out your disturbing thoughts, horrified at the state of your own mind. “But yeah, if you’re offering, this thing has definitely run out of heat. Thank you,” you responded, pulling the heating pad from out of the covers and offering it to him. “Sorry about the mess,” you said as he walked in, trying to avoid stepping on the scattered piles of clothes, shoes, trash, and everything in between.
“Don’t be sorry, it’s your space,” he responded matter-of-factly. “Do you need help cleaning, though? If you want, I can–”
“Dude, you’re not about to clean my room for me,” you responded with a shocked laugh, appreciative but embarrassed. 
“I’m just saying, if you needed me to, I would. You’re hurt,” he said, equally matter-of-factly, and walked out of the room with the heating pad in hand.
You’re hurt. 
You rolled the statement around in your mind, chewing on the inside of your lip absentmindedly. You supposed he was right, in more ways than one. Maybe you should just stop bitching internally and accept the pity, you wondered. Tears pricked behind your eyes. Stop, stop, stop , you demanded of yourself, hearing his footsteps approaching down the hall and rubbing at your eyes fiercely. 
He walked in cautiously and crossed your room to hand you the heating pad, and before he left, you swallowed the lump in your throat and managed to say, “Hey.”
He stopped in his tracks, turning towards you, eyes inquisitive. “Yeah?”
This was so embarrassing . Were you really going to do this? You needed to grow up, needed to stop relying on others so much for comfort, needed to give yourself space to be alone, to be single, you needed to–
“Please stay,” you said, in the form of a statement, rather than a question. 
“Oh I’m not leaving, I’ll just be out here, okay?”
You covered your eyes with a hand, embarrassment threatening to swallow you whole. “No, what I mean is… will you stay in here? With me? I really don’t wanna be alone right now.” You peaked through your fingers at him.
His eyes widened as he looked around the room, no doubt looking for somewhere to sit and do his homework, when you scooted over to the wall, leaving a space on the bed for him. 
He blinked a couple times, seemingly frozen for a second. “Um… yeah, sure. I can do that,” he responded, and backed out of your room, presumably to grab his stuff. You began to regret your request as the moments passed but once he came back in, your nerves settled down, and you reflected on the way Jongseob had become a surprisingly comforting person for you.
He sat on the edge of the bed and it squeaked quietly as he bent over to sort through his books. Setting his coffee mug on your nightstand, he scooted back against the wall and crossed his legs, getting comfortable against your too-many pillows. I should really get a headboard, you thought.
“Thanks, and sorry,” you muttered, feeling bad but inwardly pleased that he’d agreed to join you. “Oh, it’sno problem at all,” he replied, giving you a warm smile. You proceeded to open your laptop and popped your earbuds in to resume the movie that you were too much of a baby to finish beforehand. 
But for some reason, it didn’t make you as sad, now. You watched in silence as Jongseob read through one of his many textbooks, his body shifting frequently to stay comfortable. However, his position eventually devolved into laying down, and as you took out your earbuds, the movie finished, you looked over to find him near the edge of the bed, turned towards you, fast asleep. 
You reflected on the fact that he seemed to have a habit of sleeping near you, and your heart warmed. You wondered if that meant that he was as comfortable around you as you were around him. With that thought, you pushed your laptop forward on the bed, past your feet, and laid down on your side to face him.
He held his arms against his chest, his head propped up on one of your pillows. You scanned his face, listening to the calming, steady sounds of his breathing. His hair had finally dried and flopped across his forehead, unstyled and messy. His dark brows were relaxed, and his eyes occasionally darted under his lids, his lashes long, dark, and pretty. You studied the texture of his cheeks, noting the way his mild acne scarring had faded over the years. His nose, however, was still small and cute like it always had been. And his mouth…
Your heart quickened as your eyes followed the plump lines of his mouth, his lips a soft shade of pink; it hung open slightly but he was breathing through his nose, so he wasn’t snoring. Not this time , you thought to yourself with a smile. You watched the way his bare shoulder rose slightly with each relaxed inhale, blinking away sleep from your eyes. 
You just needed a few more moments of this, you thought, but in that moment, Jongseob’s sleepy eyes blinked open lazily, momentarily startled to see your face so close to his. His brows knit together, but he smiled. “Y/n, you’re being so creepy.”
You giggled quietly and poked his stomach, causing him to jerk into a protective position and yell harshly. He held up his hands in defense, laughing. “Hey, hey, if you’re gonna force me to do my homework in bed and then let me fall asleep, you can not tickle me. That’s where I draw the line. Especially because I can’t fight back! You’re too fragile right now!” 
You smiled evilly, not sure what had taken you over, and reached toward his ribs, but he was too fast – he grabbed your wrists tightly and despite your every attempt to break free, he maintained the firm grip and laughed as you struggled. He was much stronger than he looked, and your stomach did a little flip. Jesus, you said to yourself, get ahold of yourself, you pathetic loser.
As you had these thoughts, the energy in the room shifted, and soon, the only sound that filled it was the sound of heavy breathing, both yours and his, as he loosened his grip on your wrists and you surrendered, putting your hands up. His breathing slowed to normal, and as you both lay there facing each other, he broke the uncomfortable silence.
“So. What happened with you and Intak?”
You blinked a couple times, looking past him to organize your thoughts, not expecting him to ask so bluntly. “He, uh, didn’t think things were going to work out,” you said, your smile turning to a frown as you remembered the tears in Intak’s eyes as he broke things off with you. Guilt flooded your conscience.
“Why not?” Jongseob asked, his eyes fixed on you. You were surprised at how nosey he was being, since he usually didn’t pry. But you relished in the closeness that you seemed to have regained with him. You hadn’t really been able to talk to anyone about it, at least not in detail. 
You sighed. “I guess, put as simply as possible, we just weren’t right for each other.”
Jongseob scrunched his nose up at this explanation, clearly unconvinced. You sighed again. “If I’m honest, he was really great, but, you know that feeling you get when you know someone is just the person for you? Like you know it, deep in your gut?” you looked at him for signs of understanding and his face was unreadable for a moment so you quickly added, “well, maybe you haven’t experienced that before. You’re still young,” you added with a teasing smile and he frowned slightly, blushing furiously. 
“No, I know what you’re talking about,” he said, his usually high-ish pitched voice taking on a softer, more husky tone. Your mind raced for a split second, but you didn’t give it the opportunity to get away. 
“Okay, yeah,” you continued, pushing a lock of hair out of your face. “So that feeling, I never really had it with him from the beginning, and we even agreed to keep things casual. I think,” you chewed on your lip for a moment, contemplating, “I think I kinda knew. Like, I knew there was an expiration date for us.”
Jongseob blinked at you, looking mildly surprised. “Oh. Did he know that?” 
The question felt like a sucker punch, even though you knew he didn’t mean it like that. He was just straightforward, and it was a reasonable question to ask. “Well no, but I also think I wanted to just wait and see where things would go, you know? Shit, I feel like this is making me sound like a complete asshole, and maybe I am—“
“That’s not what I’m thinking right now, don’t worry,” he cut in, and you appreciated it, nodding in understanding. 
“So, the other night, Intak just kinda dropped the bomb out of nowhere, and said he felt we needed to split up. Said that he felt that he liked me more than I liked him, and… something about not wanting to be second best to me? I can’t remember exactly how he worded it, but I’m still unclear on what he meant.”
Jongseob eyed you thoughtfully, then said, “Did you ask him to elaborate?”
“I didn’t get the chance. He left pretty quickly after that… it seemed like his mind was made up.” 
Jongseob hummed in response, looking at the wall for several seconds before propping himself up on his elbow and looking back at you with a serious expression. “So what you’re telling me is that you’re a cold, evil heartbreaker.”
Your mouth dropped open as you prepared to defend yourself, the words stinging momentarily, before he couldn’t stop holding back his smile and started laughing at you teasingly. You pushed him abruptly and he almost fell off the bed, flailing his arms to keep his balance and laughing even harder. 
“Hey,” you scolded, “it’s not funny!” But you started laughing in tandem and the bitterness, sadness, loneliness, and pain began to leave your body as you doubled over in laughter. Or so you thought, as tears started spilling down your cheeks uncontrollably, much to your surprise. Jongseob’s smile turned to horror as he automatically put a hand reassuringly on your shoulder. 
“Hey dude, knock it off,” he pleaded, shaking you lightly, which made you cry even harder, unable to control the sobs that wracked your body, your hands covering your face. And before you knew it, he was pulling you towards himself awkwardly. 
Unable to get his arms around you while the both of you were laying down, he dragged you up into a sitting position as you wept, holding you to his chest and shushing you softly. Your hands remained in front of your face as the tears continued, more slowly now, your breathing starting to regulate. Meanwhile, you felt one of his hands flat against your back, while the other petted your head soothingly.
“Sshh,” he whispered, and as he released you and you wiped your face with your t-shirt, you laughed shakily. “Jesus christ, sorry. Dunno where that came from… guess I just needed to release some pent-up emotion or something.”
“Probably karma for tickling me,” he responded with a sly grin, and you pinched his arm, eliciting a yelp as he slapped your hand away and sat across from you, legs hanging off the bed.
“And I’d do it again!” you yelled, laughing weakly. 
His face sobered slightly. “You sure you’re okay, though?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. It’s weird, I guess nobody really did anything wrong, but I still feel like an asshole because he’s the one who got hurt.”
He nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. Intak’s solid though, I’m sure he’ll be okay. Hell, I heard that before he started dating you, he was a little bit of a whore, so hopefully he’ll be back in the game in no time.”
It dawned on you that you hadn’t really known that side of Intak. Not that you cared, but it had just never really come up. You smiled, hoping Jongseob was right. “I hope so, I just want minimal weirdness, you know?”
He nodded, and turned his head towards the door as you both heard the front door unlock and open and the apartment flooded with noise from Shota and Keeho. “I’m gonna go say hi. You need anything from out there?”
You shook your head and got under the covers as he grabbed his stuff and exited.
Oddly enough, you felt that one weight lifted from your chest, while another settled there in its place. You sighed and laid there, mustering the energy you’d need to venture out and join them.
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Chapter 10: I'll Never Leave Your Side
“What the hell is up with you?” your boss scolded, leading you into his office. You sat down in the chair across from his desk and ran a hand through your hair and sighed, frustrated and not looking forward to this conversation. “I’m sorry Jeremy, I think I’m just still moving a little slowly after my accident a couple weeks ago.”
“Well I can’t afford for you to be moving slowly. Figure it out, y/n. This isn’t acceptable and you know it,” he snapped back immediately, staring you down. You hated the way he cared more about money than the human beings doing the work. 
“Or get a doctor's note. I don’t care, just don’t show up like nothing’s wrong, expecting everyone else to pick up your slack,” he said as he stood up, motioning towards the door. Tears threatened to spill but you kept your composure, refusing to let him see you cry. 
“Sorry, okay. I understand. I’ll do better,” you responded dryly with a curt nod, and left his office, hands shaking. You had about half an hour left in your shift and could barely get anything done, your brain more a mess than it usually was. 
You loved almost everything about your job: your clients, the flexible scheduling, your co-workers – you’d spent most of your adult life thus far dreaming of a career like this. You even enjoyed having to dress in business casual: your normal wardrobe tended to be much more on the casual side of things, so you enjoyed experimenting and seeing how much of your own personality you could inject into the drab dress code. 
However, the one thing that you hated about your job – and it wasn’t a small thing – was your boss Jeremy.
Jeremy was the kind of person who loved having authority. In some ways, he was great for the job – always taking the lead and being able to make difficult, split-second decisions. But in every other way, he was a thorn in your side, always nitpicking, never giving his team the benefit of the doubt. He seemed to be exceedingly comfortable correcting and scolding others, in a way that made your skin crawl. 
You wished that he didn’t have so much power over your emotions, but the way he treated you like some expendable machine, especially when you were getting over a head injury, hurt. Badly.
After clocking out and holding everything in, you cried the entire drive home. In the parking lot for your apartment, you sat for a while and dried your tears, trying to get your eyes not to look so puffy before grabbing your bag, slamming your car door shut, and heading up the stairs.
“Hi, y/n!” Jongseob greeted you the moment you walked through the door, catching you off guard. Normally it wouldn’t have been so jarring but your shitty day had made everything overwhelming. “Hey,” you replied, throwing your stuff down and grabbing a beer out of the fridge. 
“Tough day?” he asked, and as you looked over at him for the first time today, you softened just a tiny bit. His hair hung in limp waves and he wore a purple long-sleeved t-shirt with black pajama shorts, and was sitting on the couch, perfectly cozy, his eyes wide in concern as he waited for your answer. 
“Yeah, you could fuckin’ say that,” you replied, a little more curtly than you meant, and took a long sip of the beer. “My boss is getting on my ass for how much my performance has dipped since my concussion, and I’m so sick of it. I don’t understand how I’m expected to work at exactly the same level while I’m dealing with all these headaches and random episodes of dizziness and fatigue. Sometimes my vision even gets all wonky and I have to take a break from looking at my computer screen. But of course, he doesn’t give a shit about that, he just cares about money.”
Jongseob stood up. “Wait, you’re still dealing with all of that?”
“Yeah but that’s not the–”
“Y/n, when’s the last time you talked to a doctor? You should probably have someone check you out just to be safe,” he interrupted, a concerned look on his face that you ignored.
“I’m fine, I’m sure it’s normal, I just wish people would be patient with–”
“But how do you know it’s normal if you don’t get checked out just in case? I dunno, it just seems like–”
“ Enough!” you yelled with enough volume it made him visibly cringe, and you immediately regretted it, but your frustration was overwhelming and you didn’t know how to stop. “I’ve had a shitty enough day with one man breathing down my neck, I don’t need another.”
Jongseob’s eyes widened in shock and he looked taken aback for a moment, then hurt. Shit, shit, shit , you scolded yourself. “Jongseob, I’m sorry, I didn’t–”
“No, I get it. I’m sorry. Heard,” he replied quietly and picked up his stuff, heading to Shota’s room and closing the door quietly. You realized that, like last weekend, Shota was likely at Keeho’s again, so his room would be empty. You took a long drink of your beer, sat at the kitchen table, and sighed into both of your hands. 
He was the last person who’d deserved that, and you needed to apologize, but you would also have understood if he was mad and didn’t want you around at the moment. You sipped your beer, disappointment and regret souring your stomach and forcing you to stop drinking it. 
You took a couple long, deep breaths. You’d been frustrated by Jeremy’s blatant disregard for your health, and then came home to get frustrated by Jongseob’s obvious concern for it. It was completely backwards, and you knew it. 
You supposed you just wanted to be listened to, and that was fair, but it didn’t excuse the way you’d yelled at him. The expression on his face as you’d shouted flashed into your mind, and your chest tightened. You’d felt like you’d been in some sort of trance, blinded by your frustration and exhaustion; and now that you’d had a moment of quiet, you were nothing short of horrified at your behavior. It had been so unlike you.
The apartment became eerily quiet, filled with nothing but the ambient sounds of the traffic outside and the low hum of the refrigerator. You stood up, walked over to the kitchen sink and dumped the rest of your beer. Setting the empty bottle on the counter, you ran your fingers through your hair and groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. He probably needed space, he probably wanted to be left alone, he probably didn’t want to see you right now: all thoughts that ran through your head as you walked down the hall and lightly tapped on Shota’s door.
“Seob? Is it okay if I come in?” you asked, softening your voice as much as possible to be less threatening. God, how could you have been such an asshole to him of all people?
He didn’t answer, so you cracked the door just barely. “I’m coming in, okay?” you said, and as you opened the door wider, your heart shattered in your chest. 
He was sitting on the edge of Shota’s bed, face in his hands, bent over slightly. Fuck, what have I done? you thought as you rushed over and knelt on the floor in front of him. “Oh my god Jongseob, I’m so sorry for yelling, I was such a complete and total asshole,” you insisted, rubbing one of his arms, unsure of what to do. You’d never seen him like this before, and you wanted the floor to swallow you whole. You didn’t deserve him. He hadn’t deserved this.
But he shook his head adamantly and took his hands away from his face, wiping the tears from his eyes with a couple efficient swipes. “It’s not that, I just… fuck –” he began, but tears started to spill again and he wiped them away as well as he was able. He took a deep, shaky breath and exhaled, closing his eyes, then opened them and looked at you, his face looking determined, all the while his lower lip still trembling.
“You have no idea how fucking scary it was to see your head hit the floor like that, y/n. To see the ambulance take you away and not know if you were going to be okay, if you’d wake up, if you’d–”
He paused, voice cracking and tears brimming at his eyes again, and your hands found themselves on his thighs, rubbing reassuringly. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. It all turned out okay, right? I’m fine, okay?” you kept repeating, but he was inconsolable at this point. 
 You stood up onto your knees and pulled him forward into an embrace, his thin body clutching onto you desperately, chin resting on your shoulder. You rubbed circles into his back with one hand and began stroking his hair with the other. He continued shakily, “I was so relieved when you woke up at the hospital, I– I never realized until then how much you mean to me. I dunno what I’d do if anything happened to you, I just don’t know how I would cope.”
Your heart felt like it had stopped, and it suddenly became clear to you – the reason he’d resorted to taking care of you the moment you left the hospital, the way he kept obnoxiously doing trivial tasks for you, all the overbearing comments and questions about your symptoms. He’d been traumatized, seeing you get hurt. He was doing all this because he cared for you, not because he thought you were weak, not because he wanted to make you feel bad about yourself, but because he was worried about you. Truly, sincerely worried.
Soft sobs escaped his body as you held him firmly. “Seob, listen to me,” you said softly into his ear. “I’m so sorry for not listening to you before, but you have to trust me. No matter what happens, I will be fine. I’ll go to the doctor, I’ll get some more scans or something just to be safe. I promise, I’ll never leave your side. Do you understand me?” 
He nodded gently, hugging you even tighter.
As you pulled away slightly, not knowing how he would react to this gesture but feeling you had no other choice– you pressed your lips to his cheek, letting them linger there for a moment, trying to instill in him at least a fraction of the calmness you were trying to give him. Without a word, he kissed your own cheek in response, and pulled you ever closer to him, arms wrapped around you again tightly. Your heart beat wildly in your chest, feeling like it would burst. Before now, you’d never experienced affection this intense, this protective, this overwhelming before. 
And then it hit you. That feeling… it was love . 
You’d fallen in love with Jongseob, and you would do absolutely anything to keep him from feeling pain like this, even if it meant swallowing your pride and letting him fuss over you. Tears stung your eyes as you pulled away from him slightly and swiped your thumbs underneath his eyes to wipe the tears away, your mouth trembling. And then, it happened. One moment, he was looking deep into your eyes, and the next, his lips were against yours. His mouth didn’t move –  he just stayed there, mouth barely pressed to yours, his hands making their way to either side of your face, holding you gently. So, he must have felt it, too , you thought, as you closed your eyes, a tear slipping out of one of them.
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Chapter 11: Please
Your hands gripped the loose fabric of Jongseob’s shirt at his sides. He pulled back from the kiss slightly, the taste of his tears wet on your lips, his hands still cupping your face gently. You opened your eyes to look at him and his eyes were shining, filled with a mixture of apprehension and desire. He sniffled quietly. “Can I… try that again?”
You nodded. With one shaky hand, he pushed a lock of hair behind your ear and with the other, he guided your face up again to his, knees parting to allow your body to come between them, closer to him. Your grip on his shirt loosened and you flattened your hands against the sides of his waist, putting less distance between your body and his, your stomach doing somersaults as he kissed you a second time. You wanted more, wanted to throw all caution to the wind, but you held it together, not wanting to overwhelm him.
This kiss was less anxious, his lips parting to press against yours more firmly this time, his breath quickening as you kissed him back, mouth moving in tandem with his, noting the way his lips were even softer than they looked. Your head felt light. Your hands slid around to his back and as you pulled away from the kiss, you pulled him into a tight hug. 
Shota’s room was silent other than the sounds of both of you breathing. Your heart was still racing and your mind had gone completely blank, so you just held onto him for dear life, scared to ruin the moment, scared for what it all meant, scared for what came next…
The moment was cut short, however, as the sound of the front door opening shocked the two of you apart and you looked at him, horrified. What is he doing back home already? you mouthed to Jongseob. I don’t know, he whispered, equally disturbed. 
You sat back on your heels on the floor and Jongseob put his feet up on the bed, both of you trying your hardest to look like nothing weird was going on, like you hadn’t just been hanging out in your little brother’s bedroom, locking lips with his best friend. 
Footsteps approached the cracked bedroom door and Shota took one step inside and froze, staring at Jongseob, then at you. He raised an eyebrow. “What are y’all doing in here?” he asked, not angrily, just confused.
You stepped in to save the day, laughing nervously. “Sorry Shota, Jongseob was just hanging out in here and I came in to ask him about a book I’m reading. Are you home for the night already? Thought you were going to Keeho’s for the night.”
You cringed inwardly, hating the way that last part sounded, like you’d been hoping to have the house to yourselves. He eyed you thoughtfully, then said, “Yeah, I just forgot to bring a change of clothes,” he responded, walking over to his dresser and digging out some joggers, a t-shirt, some underwear, and socks. 
“What, you mean you’re not gonna just borrow his clothes?” you asked, sticking your tongue out. He grimaced at you, responding, “Not a chance, you know how much I hate sharing clothes.” You did know, fully, but had decided to joke about it anyway to keep the focus on him. Since you weren’t the best liar, you didn’t want him to ask any more detailed questions about what you’d been doing.
After Shota left, you forced yourself to look up at Jongseob and he looked worried, gaze fixed in his lap, fidgeting with his fingers restlessly. You stood up on your knees and climbed onto the bed to sit across from him, legs crossed, and grabbed his hands, thumbs swiping over them soothingly. 
He kept his eyes cast downwards, and said in a quiet voice, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” and your heart sank. The sting of rejection started to spread through your body as you prepared yourself for the worst. 
“Why not?” was all you could muster in response, your throat tight. He glanced up at you, looking surprised, and his eyes softened but you could see pain, real pain, in them. His voice firmed, as he said a bit louder, “You just got out of a relationship.”
“So?” you responded, keeping your eyes on him. He needed to understand. 
“You probably think I’m too young for you,” he said a little more quietly.
“If that was true, do you think I would have let you do that?” you asked, voice serious.
He looked to the side thoughtfully, a frown still marring his features. “I dunno. Maybe. You’ve been lonely and I–”
You silenced him by leaning forward immediately, kissing his mouth softly, just once, and sitting back down. He froze, his cheeks colored scarlet, and looked at you with questions in his eyes. 
“Jongseob. This is kind of unfamiliar territory for me, and I don’t really know how to navigate it any better than you do.” You paused, shocked at the way this was just starting to spill out. This buried part of you that you’d denied, pushed down, never explored. 
“I care about you. More than as a friend. And I think you feel the same way,” you blurted. 
A shy smile appeared on Jongseob’s face, breaking through the anxiety and doubt. “Well that second part is pretty obvious,” he replied, blushing again. You couldn’t help smiling back, relief spreading through your body. His hands were still in yours and you held them up, kissing them one at a time, then setting them back down in his lap. 
“This could get complicated, though. I don’t really know how anyone would react to… us. If you know what I mean. You being Shota’s best friend, the age gap, all that stuff.”
Jongseob’s face sobered. “Wait, back up. Us? As in… like, you wanna date me?”
“You dummy, what else would that mean?” you teased, and for the first time since you’d gotten home, you heard his laugh, bright and adorable, the tension visibly leaving his body as he covered his mouth with both hands. 
“Unless of course, you don’t want to,” you said with mock seriousness. “I would understand. I mean, there’s plenty of girls your own age at college, it would be easy enough to–”
“No no, I want to,” Jongseob cut in, putting his hands up argumentatively. “I mean. If you do, too. I don’t care about the complications, it doesn’t matter. Let me be your boyfriend, y/n. Please.”
Please.
You were glad to still be sitting on Shota’s bed, because if you’d been standing up, your knees probably would have buckled. 
You realized after probably too many seconds had passed that he was staring at you, waiting for your response, fear clouding his eyes with each passing moment. Your face was already burning up so it wouldn’t be convincing, but you decided to look up and pretend to think about your response.
“Hmm,” you hummed in a sing-song voice, then looked back down at him. “Okay, deal,” you replied, holding your hand out to him. He rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand, not shaking it. 
“You can be a real asshole sometimes, you know that?” he said unconvincingly, a lovesick smile plastered on his face. You smiled back, heart feeling like it could burst. “I know, but I can be very sweet, too,” you replied, and pulled him in for another kiss.
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Chapter 12: It Was So Simple in the Moonlight
“Where did you say the green onions were?” Jongseob asked, crouched in front of the fridge, searching behind plastic containers and all your various sauce bottles. “Produce drawer. Might be under some stuff, though,” you replied as you massaged marinade into diced pieces of chicken. 
After you’d talked a little more, Jongseob had agreed to cook dinner with you. It felt so suddenly domestic. He’d helped you cook plenty of times before, but this time was different. The shy smiles, the way he’d linger closer to you than usual. 
As you rinsed the rice in the sink, his arms made their way around your waist from behind and he rested his head on your shoulder. You let out a small surprised gasp and stiffened at the touch, then tried to relax, still getting used to it. He giggled, kissed your cheek, and went back to the counter to chop the veggies. You continued, unable to hide the smile glued to your face, but in all honesty, you didn’t want to hide it. Not anymore. 
Once the meal was finished, you both had decided to eat in the living room and watch a movie. Jongseob’s pick was Notting Hill , which surprised you. “Didn’t know you were into rom-coms,” you said, inquisitively. He shrugged, responding, “Usually they’re not my thing but this one’s different. It’s sort of a comfort movie of mine, I’m not sure why. We don’t have to watch it if you’re not into it, I just–”
“We’re watching it,” you said with a smile, and he smiled back sheepishly, and you both ate at the coffee table, sitting on the floor before finishing your meal and moving up to the couch. 
About a quarter of the way through the movie, Jongseob turned towards you and stared at you for a moment. “Y/n? Can I hold your hand?” You replied by immediately slotting your fingers between his, your hand enveloped in his and resting on his thigh. Your positions devolved from him fidgeting with your fingers in his lap, to you leaning on his shoulder, until eventually you were sat up straight with him laying on his side, his head nestled in your lap while you played with his shaggy blonde hair. 
You couldn’t remember your heart ever feeling this full, in your entire life.
As the movie ended, Jongseob stretched his arms overhead in your lap and yawned, twisting to lay with his face up to look at you. You pushed his bangs out of his face. “Nice forehead, bro,” you said, and bent over to kiss it. He smiled, canines showing. Cute. 
“Are you gonna keep calling me bro even when we’re dating?” he asked, eyebrow raised accusingly, still smiling. You considered for a moment, then responded, “Yeah, probably. Was there something else you wanted me to call you, though?” 
At this question, his face blanched and he shook his head adamantly. “Nah, I was just messing around.” But you were like a shark with blood in the water. “No, you bring up a good point. I should probably call you something else sometimes, at least to mix it up. Sweetheart? Darling? Angel?” You looked at his face to monitor his reactions, but he maintained a stubborn pout, arms crossed. 
“Hmmm, okay. Baby ?”
Jongseob’s eyes widened and his face reddened but he tried to maintain his expression, and you knew you had him. “Mmm, okay, noted,” you responded with a conniving smile, and he rolled his body towards you and pressed his face against your belly, groaning. You ran your fingers through his hair playfully, beaming at your success. 
As you laid there, his body relaxed and you leaned your head back on the couch, fingers still in his hair, thoughts and emotions swirling erratically. You were glad that just for tonight, Shota was gone, and the two of you could exist like this in peace. Before reality set in, before you had to have the conversations, or lack thereof – you weren’t sure yet how things would happen. You laid there in silence, various thoughts, ideas, and worries running through your head, and eventually you realized how late it had gotten. How long had you been sitting here like this?
“Baby,” you whispered, waking Jongseob from half-sleep. He inhaled deeply, then turned his head up towards you, opened his eyes and smiled lazily. Your heart swelled. “Let’s go to bed,” you said, and his sleepy smile turned to an anxious expression. “Y/n, I dunno if I’m ready to–”
“Sleep,” you cut him off, laughing quietly but understanding his concern. “Just to sleep. Is that okay?” 
His gaze softened, his relief obvious, and he nodded his head and smiled. 
Jongseob headed to Shota’s room to change, and you headed to yours and threw on some loose black boxer shorts and a baggy gray t-shirt. You finished washing your face and brushing your teeth and when you came back into your room, Jongseob was sitting on the edge of the bed, similarly dressed in plaid boxers and an oversized ratty t-shirt. You felt your body heat up, suddenly wondering if this had been a good idea.
Although you were dressed basically the same, you felt surprisingly self-conscious, wondering if you should have worn a tank top instead, or some cute pajama shorts, but as you were having these thoughts, Jongseob looked up at you and smiled. You felt your defenses go up and immediately resorted to sarcasm. “What are you lookin’ at, buddy?” you asked, fists up playfully.
“You,” he replied without skipping a beat, and your stomach did a flip. “You’re so beautiful,” he continued, “and I’ve wanted to tell you for so long.” 
Your jaw dropped and your brain floundered, searching for something, anything to say in response, but you just covered your eyes and mumbled, “Thanks,” then joined him on the bed. 
You got under the covers with him and you faced each other, smiling dumbly. “So are you,” you finally said to him quietly, feeling incredibly lame. You wanted to tell him how perfect, how stunning he was, all the time, every moment of the day, but you just didn’t have the words right now. 
“So,” you began, knowing this conversation would have to come sooner or later. “So?” he responded.
You sighed. “Obviously, Shota is the first person I’d want to tell about this, and I assume it’s the same for you.” He nodded in agreement, and you continued, “But I’m not sure I want to tell him just yet.”
“Why not?” he asked, not argumentatively, just curiously.
“I just,” you began, trying to find the words. “I guess I just don’t love the way it might look. Shota’s like, the least judgmental person I know, but I still worry. Like you said, I just got out of a relationship, and I dunno, it might look like… you’re taking advantage of me? Or vice versa? Ugh, I don’t know if this is making sense or if I’m making too big of a deal out of it.”
“Nah,” Jongseob responded. “If it’s important to you, it’s not trivial. I don’t really care either way, but if you wanna wait, I’ve got no problem with that.” You smiled. It didn’t surprise you at all how patient and sweet he was being, but it still made you incredibly happy.
You spent the next hour talking about anything and everything: shared memories, childhood nostalgia, your shitty boss, his current classes. At some point, however, his eyes started getting heavier and heavier, and you could tell he was forcing himself to stay awake. 
“Okay sleepyhead, which spoon do you wanna be?” you asked.
“Which spoon do you wanna be?” he replied.
“I asked first.”
“This is your bed, you should choose.”
You scoffed. “This is my bed so I should be able to make you choose.”
“Y/n, if I confess to you how badly I want to be little spoon, you can not make fun of me or I will become a fork.”
You slapped your hand over your mouth, stifling laughter – not at his confession, but at how dramatic he was being. “Oh my god, turn over,” you ordered, and he flipped over away from you with a huff. 
You shifted towards him and rested your face behind his head, inhaling the scent of his shampoo as you wrapped an arm around his waist and rested your hand on his chest. He put his hand over top of yours and gripped it tightly as you pushed your body flush against him, your bare legs intertwining with his. 
Well, this isn’t very relaxing, you thought as you laid awake, heart pounding, body burning up. You wanted to be closer to him, wanted to flip him around and kiss him deeply, wanted to–
At that thought, you began hearing soft snores coming from him, and you could have melted. You smiled into his hair, kissing the back of his head, the side of his neck, the part of his bare shoulder that was exposed by the loose collar of his t-shirt. Eventually, you drifted off as well, face pressed up against him, happier than you’d ever been.
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Chapter 13: Brother's Blessing
Over the next couple weeks, you and Jongseob narrowly escaped being discovered by Shota and Keeho as you try to keep your new relationship undercover. 
Shota and Keeho had started alternating weekends spent with each other, so the following weekend, Keeho stayed over, which made the apartment fairly crowded with Jongseob staying there, too. Jongseob had discussed the arrangement with Shota and said that he didn’t mind staying at his dorm, but Shota insisted that he stay like he always did, since Keeho would be sleeping in his room anyway. 
Both Friday and Saturday nights, you’d wanted so badly to have Jongseob stay in your bed, but it had been your own idea to keep the relationship a secret for the time being. You knew it was a good idea, but as nighttime descended, you were kicking yourself. 
The best you could do was wait until Shota and Keeho had gone to bed, then go out to the living room to hang out with Jongseob on the couch. It was nerve-wracking since Shota’s bathroom was next door to his room and both of them had to enter the hallway anytime they needed to use it; they could come out and catch you at any moment. 
Although you yearned for the time that you’d be able to stop hiding, part of you loved the thrill of it – cuddling, talking, and making out on the couch with the constant threat of discovery looming. You couldn’t deny that it was at least a little bit fun. 
On the second night of that weekend, you stayed up with Jongseob on the couch until nearly two in the morning, both of you getting carried away with whispered conversations, heated touches, increasingly needy kisses. It was such a relief to be able to spend time with him like this after pretending all day, even if your eyes stung from staying awake. 
You were laying your head on his shoulder as you both watched a movie quietly, talking all throughout it, when Shota’s door opened, causing you both to jump and separate in one dramatic movement. You hoped he hadn’t noticed, as he walked out to the kitchen and froze, noticing you two on the couch through sleepy eyes. “Y/n? Whatchu doin out here?” he asked, speech slurred and sleepy. 
“Uh, couldn’t sleep,” you lied through your teeth, and Jongseob snickered quietly. Shota scowled, eyes barely open as he filled a glass with water from the tap and gulped it all down at once, then belched. “Jongseob couldn’t either, huh? Okay, weirdos…” he mumbled as he shuffled back to his room and shut the door. 
You looked at Jongseob and made a face somewhere between a smile and a grimace. “Oops,” you whispered, and he giggled quietly, his face lit up by the soft ambient lighting from the TV. You loved seeing him laugh. “You have the absolute best smile,” you told him. 
“Ah, you like these bad boys?” he replied, hooking a finger into his mouth and baring one of his sharp, crooked canine teeth. You laughed at how funny he looked. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do.”
He took his finger out of his mouth and gave you a shy smile. “Ah… Well, thank you.” Affection for him flooded your body and you tackled him, slapping a hand over his mouth when he started laughing too loudly at being tickled. Eventually, neither of you could stay awake and when he began to drift off on the couch, you kissed his forehead and returned to your bedroom. 
Just one more week, you told yourself. I can make it at least one more week.
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Over the next week, you took some time off work to go to the doctor for a follow-up appointment to make sure your ongoing symptoms weren’t anything to worry about. Jongseob insisted on going with you, and you weren’t sure which one of you was more embarrassed when the medical assistant asked if he was your little brother. 
Fortunately, you were able to get some repeat scans within the same week and everything checked out normal. You’d texted Jongseob the moment they came in.
y/n: guess whose noggin is normal and brain bleed-free?
js: oh my god that’s so good to hear
y/n: [sunglasses smiling emoji] [finger gun emoji]
js: y/n i swear to god
y/n: yeah i guess it is good news huh
js: i’m literally in class about to cry happy tears
y/n: :( wait stop, are you for real??
js: yes!! sorry that i care about your fucking wellbeing and that you’re incredibly important to me!
You sat in the break room, smiling so wide at your phone that your face started to hurt.
y/n: you are the absolute sweetest. i’m sorry for worrying you
js: whatever dude. thanks for getting it checked out. i know you probably did it to shut me up but i just feel a lot better
y/n: [sunglasses smiling emoji] [finger gun emoji]
js: sigh
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As the next weekend approached, you knew Shota probably had plans to stay at Keeho’s, so you tried to catch him on Thursday night. You texted him to make sure he was free, and told him you wanted to hang out and have dinner. He agreed, no questions asked, and as soon as you sent the text finalizing the plans, your stomach started to hurt. You figured it would probably go fine, but it didn’t make it any less nerve-wracking.
You came home from work and walked in to find him already working on dinner. “Hey, thanks, Shota, you didn’t have to do that,” you said, secretly pleased that he’d already gotten started since you were starving. He looked over at you from where he was chopping vegetables. “Y/n, you really baby me a lot, you know that?” he said, an accusing smile on his face.
You smiled back in shock. “You’re goddamn right I do. You know what, you can finish this on your own, right? There’s actually this video game I really wanted to play–”
“No no, you can still help!” he replied immediately, laughing nervously. “That’s what I thought, punk,” you said with a sly smile as you washed your hands and joined him.
Once you’d both gotten settled at the table, your heart started to pick up pace. You cleared your throat as Shota took his first bite. “So… this thing with Keeho. How’s it going?” you began. Although it wasn’t the primary reason for your request to sit down and talk, you had still been meaning to check in with him about his new relationship as well.
“It’s good,” he replied, mouth full of food. You smiled fondly at him, glad he’d been able to find a boyfriend despite his ass-backwards manners and many, many peculiarities. He chewed and swallowed. “Yeah, he uh, he’s really great. I’m glad I gave it a chance.”
You nodded, happy with what you were hearing. “Good, that’s good. So he’s a good boyfriend? No regrets, right? You know I have a low threshold for kicking that guy’s ass,” you said, clenching your fists dramatically. He laughed and covered his mouth cutely. “Yes, he’s a really good boyfriend,” he replied, looking down and smiling thoughtfully. “I feel like ever since the incident at the club, he’s been spending our entire relationship trying to make it up to me.”
“Good! He should!”
He giggled at your honesty. “Yeah, if I’m being completely honest, it makes me feel a little bad but I do kind of enjoy it. Is that fucked up?”
“Not at all,” you replied immediately. “He should be treating you like royalty every single day. If he doesn’t, you’d better let me know.”
Shota smiled and nodded shyly. He was usually so sassy, and it was adorable seeing him be this vulnerable, talking about his boyfriend. You still had your doubts about Keeho, but as long as Shota was happy, you couldn’t really complain. 
And now, for the elephant in the room, your brain announced intrusively, and you picked at your food, suddenly nervous.
“So, Shota. There’s something that I wanna tell you, and, I’m open to whatever you have to say about it.”
He looked up at you from his food, eyebrows raised curiously, waiting for you to continue. You cleared your throat. “I’m, um. I’m seeing someone.”
He nodded. “Okay? That was fast.” His bluntness stung, but you expected it, and you knew he wasn’t saying it to be rude; he was just speaking his mind. “Do I know them?” 
“Him. Yeah, you do.”
Shota stared at you, growing impatient by the moment. “O…kay? So?”
Your hands began to sweat and you rubbed them on your work pants, avoiding eye contact with him. “What, are you back together with Intak or something?”
“No…”
“Y/n just tell m–”
“It’s Jongseob.”
He blinked once. Twice. Silence hung thick in the air and the room felt stuffy. You looked down at your plate, waiting, waiting, dreading Shota’s response, his scolding, his objections.
But the sound of his laughter split through the air and you looked up, confused, as Shota started cracking up. “No way,” he wheezed. “You and Jongseob? For real ?”
You sighed. “Yes,” you replied blandly, feeling a blush creep up your neck as you fought an embarrassed smile. He fell into another fit of laughter and you wanted to roll your eyes but didn’t; you were simply relieved that he didn’t seem mad. 
“Damn, I knew you were a cradle robber but I didn’t know you were that much of one,” he blurted out, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. You must not have been able to control the look that you made at that comment, because his face immediately sobered. “Shit, that came out a lot ruder than I meant it. I was just teasing, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Nah, it’s all good, I kinda deserve it. Well. I mean, I dunno. I definitely didn’t develop feelings for him on purpose. Feels like something that just happened to me,” you said, and hid your face into your hands, letting out a muffled scream. “God, why is this so embarrassing?”
Shota giggled. “Because you’re dating your little bro’s best friend, you pervert.”
Your jaw dropped, horrified, but he was laughing again. Okay, this could have been a lot worse, you thought. You could handle the jokes, and they were at least expected. 
As Shota’s laughing subsided, however, he took on a more serious tone. “You don’t think this is a rebound situation, right? Like, after your thing with Intak?”
“No,” you replied immediately, and he seemed relieved at the quickness of your answer. “No, not at all. I think I’ve been in denial about this for a minute, but I haven’t really explored it that much. One thing I know for certain, though, is that this has nothing to do with the situation with Intak. I promise.”
Shota nodded. “Okay. Okay, that’s good. Because… shit, I actually don’t know if I should tell you this.” He thought about it for just a moment longer, and then continued, “Ah, fuck it. He’d probably end up telling you anyway. When we were all kids, he had a pretty huge crush on you. I thought it was just a childhood thing, but now I’m wondering if, maybe… it never went away?”
Your throat went dry at this information, and you just nodded, thinking. 
After a few moments of silence, Shota sighed and cleared his voice. “Okay, serious talk time. I’m only gonna say this once, because you know how much I hate being confrontational.” You nodded, encouraging him to continue, his intense eye contact burning into you. 
“Just know that …you need to be really careful. Jongseob looks up to you, and you’re in a position where you could probably hurt him pretty badly.” You winced at this comment, but you knew he was right. “With Intak, I honestly couldn’t care less, and I’m sorry if this is blunt but I figured that wouldn’t really last long since the two of you don’t have that much in common, but with Jongseob? I dunno that he can really do casual, when it comes to dating. Especially not with you.”
You felt tears prick at the back of your eyes as you felt the pressure of the situation, but there was one thing you were certain of.
“Shota… I… love him,” you said, tears slipping out of your eyes. His face dropped at your change in demeanor, eyes round and shining as he nodded, listening to you intently. “Okay, okay. Good. I mean, shit. I’m sorry, did I say something to hurt your feelings? You don’t think I’m mad at you, right?”
You shook your head adamantly and wiped the tears away. “No no no, don’t worry, it’s not you. You’re being the best friend possible right now, and the best brother. It’s just… hearing you say all that, it just made me realize how much I really do love him. And, I haven’t told him this yet, so please don’t say anything, but…” you rubbed your eyes again, taking a deep shuddering breath. “It’s just overwhelming, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so protective of someone before, other than you of course. I can’t imagine messing around with him, you have to understand I could never, ever even imagine doing something like that to him. You have to understand,” you said and began to cry again, and he reached across the table and grabbed your hands. 
“Okay yeah, I hear you, I understand. I’m glad, y/n. It’s okay. Please stop crying,” he said with a nervous laugh. You and Shota didn’t cry in front of each other often at all, so he didn’t seem to know what to do other than pat your hands awkwardly.
After talking a bit more, Shota brought up something that you knew would come up. 
“So, I know I said I didn’t really care about the situation with Intak, but… I still think you need to tell him. Before you tell the other guys.” You nodded, agreeing with him. 
You wiped the remnants of tears at the corners of your eyes and pulled out your phone immediately to text Intak. “Wait, don’t tell him over text! That’s so uncool, y/n,” Shota scolded, and you showed him the text that you had just sent him, asking him if you could meet at a coffee shop to talk some things over. 
You rolled your eyes at him. “C’mon Shota, you know me better than that,” you said, and he shrugged. “Sorry, just had to make sure.” 
The next moment, Jongseob came through the door, having just gotten out of a late weekday class. This wasn’t one of the normal days he would have come over, but since it was the day you had wanted to talk to Shota, he’d made it work. 
“Hey guys,” he said with a strained smile. “Hey,” Shota responded. “Hi,” you said, elated to see him but feeling the tension in the room suck out all the air. You cleared your throat. “I’m gonna…”
“Sure, okay,” Shota responded knowingly as you made eye contact with Jongseob, gave him a reassuring smile, and headed to your room to give them some privacy to talk. About half an hour later, you heard a knock on your door, and you answered it to find Shota on the other side. “C’mon,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of the common area. You complied and walked out to find Jongseob on the couch, staring at his phone while the TV played some video that Shota was forcing him (and soon to be both of you) to watch. 
You looked at Shota, and he gestured towards the couch. “Oh my god y/n just sit down and chill.” You looked at him, confused. “Wait, so that’s it?” 
He plopped down on the couch and grabbed a handful of Doritos, shoving most of them into his mouth. “Unless y’all have any more secrets, yeah, we’re good. Just don’t be weird. Hold hands, do whatever you need to do, I’ll get used to it.” 
You sat down on the couch next to Jongseob and he gave you a sweet smile, melting any remaining anxiety that you had. He pecked your cheek lightly and took your hand in his, as Shota proceeded to show both of you his latest YouTube fixation.
As the evening continued, you couldn’t help thinking about what Shota had said, and taking his words to heart. Every time you looked at Jongseob, you felt a renewed sense of protectiveness towards him, the love nearly pouring out of you. It took so much self-control not to say it. You knew you couldn’t tell him now, so soon. Your confession would have to wait. 
But it didn’t make it any less real.
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Chapter 14: Clearing the Air
Later that night as you cuddled in bed next to Jongseob (who had decided to stay the night, even though it was a weeknight), your phone lit up on the nightstand, and you reached over him to grab it. 
tak: hey, y/n, thanks for reaching out, i hope you’ve been doing good. i’m down to meet up and talk, just let me know when and where
y/n: great, i really appreciate it, and likewise. how about this Saturday at 10am? that coffee shop we used to go to? 
y/n: or wait, is that weird :/
y/n: shit, nevermind, you choose
tak: lol it’s all good, that coffee shop is fine. see you then
y/n: ok!!
You sighed and put your phone back on the nightstand. “Everything okay?” Jongseob asked in the dark, rubbing your side. 
“Yeah, just made plans to meet up with Intak Saturday morning and talk.”
“Mmm,” he responded and kissed your shoulder. “Are you nervous?”
“Nah, I think it’ll go fine. Just something that I need to get over with, I guess.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
A long silence ensued, and something flickered across your mind.
“You don’t feel weird about this, right?” you asked.
“About what?”
“Oh, you know what. About me going to get coffee with Intak and tell him about us. That doesn’t make you uncomfortable, right?”
“No!” he said a little too loudly and you smiled. “Just… don’t go falling for him again, or whatever,” he muttered, and you burst out laughing. 
“When I have you to come back home to? Not a chance,” you replied, kissing his cheek over and over again.
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“Hey, y/n,” Intak said in a friendly tone as he approached your table. “Hi Intak,” you said with a nervous smile as you stood up and hugged him. He looked good, like he always did, but you were relieved that he seemed happy, nearly glowing. What a relief , you thought.
Once you'd both ordered and sat back down again, you took a deep breath and began.
“Okay, first of all, I wanted to apologize for…” you looked down and chewed the inside of your lip, thinking of how best to phrase what you wanted to say. “For, I guess, just not being very emotionally honest when we were together. I think I knew, deep down, that things between us wouldn’t last – nothing to do with you, just a gut feeling – and, I guess I didn’t really know what I was doing with you, or why.”
He raised his eyebrows, brown puppy-dog eyes widening in understanding, as he nodded, encouraging you to continue. “Nothing about it was your fault, though. You have to know that. You’re attractive and sweet and attentive and you absolutely deserve someone who will fully appreciate you. But anyway, I’m sorry for how things ended up, the last thing I wanted was for you to get hurt.”
Intak smiled sweetly and nodded again, his eyes full of compassion and empathy. “Hey, it’s really okay. I’m doing fine. Nothing to apologize for.”
You let out a huge sigh of relief and smiled back, bowing your head slightly and taking a sip of your drink. “There was… another thing I wanted to talk to you about today,” you began tentatively.
He sipped his drink casually. “Okay? Sure, what’s up?” he responded, looking curious.
“I’m, uh… I’m dating Jongseob.”
His expression didn’t change. Shit, he’s mad, you thought immediately. He looked to the left, then the right, then back at you. “Yeah. Okay? And?”
You blinked at him a couple times. “Um. Okay wait, what do you mean?”
He stared back at you, confused. “I mean, I guess I just don’t understand what you wanted to talk about. Are you guys doing okay? Is something wrong? Like, do you need anything?”
This got more confusing by the second, and you took a deep breath. “I wanted to let you know because of how recently we broke up. And, you know, he’s someone that you know. I just wanted to be open and honest with you about it, and let you know before the others found out. Because… I know how it looks, and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
He furrowed his brows together and smiled. “Y/n… I honestly assumed you would get together with him the moment I dumped you. Felt like I was doing you a service, actually, by breaking things off… so you could finally be with him. I figured you didn’t have the guts, or something, to tell me.”
Your face went hot and that last comment offended you, but he quickly added, “I know, I wasn’t really giving you the benefit of the doubt. It’s just, I saw the way you looked at him, and the way he always stared at you, and it was just… so obvious? To me, at least. And to Theo. Especially after the hospital. If I’m honest, I felt like boyfriend number two in that situation. Not that you shouldn’t have people who care about you and want to take care of you, but damn, he kinda made me look bad. Not that I can fault him, but still.”
He laughed and ran a hand through his hair, leaning back in his chair a little. Your stomach churned at the thought of him and Theo talking about you like that but you knew you couldn’t fault them. It’s not like they’d technically been wrong, but it still made you feel so stupid.
“I also want to make it clear that I didn’t necessarily think you were cheating or anything, but I could just tell your heart wasn’t really with me, and it got too difficult to deal with,” he added, face taking on a more serious expression.
Your chest panged with guilt. “Yeah, that makes sense. That’s totally fair. I’m really sorry.”
“Hey, it’s all good. Obviously I was disappointed but I’m not going to try to force something that isn’t meant to be. You’re a really cool person and I’m glad you’ve uh, finally figured out who your person is,” he added with a chuckle. “I have a tendency to get a little involved when I start dating someone so, even though we had agreed that things needed to stay casual, I think I just got too invested and that’s on me. Not your fault, it’s just the way things happened.” You nodded, a smile of relief tugging at your lips.
After talking about something other things and catching up in general, the conversation becoming much lighter and more comfortable, a thought occurred to you, and you blurted:
“Wait, so you’re telling me that I was one of the only people who didn’t know that I liked Jongseob?”
“Seems to be that way,” he replied with a kindhearted laugh, sipping his drink. “Wait,” he added, “I even told you that I didn’t want to be second best in your world. What the hell did you think that meant, y/n?”
Your face burned up. “Honestly, I didn’t know and I was too afraid and in shock to ask, so I just let it go without a second thought. This just gets more embarrassing, huh.”
He laughed heartily as you put your elbows on the table, covered your face with your hands, and groaned. As you smiled, and finished your drink, he cleared his throat.
“So…on this topic, I should mention. I’ve actually got a date with someone tonight. So I really mean it when I say, don’t worry about me. I’m cool if you are.”
You smiled and your mouth dropped open in momentary shock, eyes wide, then you fist bumped him and he burst out laughing as he returned it. 
“That’s great. I’m happy for you,” you said, voice taking on a more serious tone.
“For us ,” he added, and you nodded, standing up from the table and giving him another hug before you parted ways amicably.
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Chapter 15: Going Places
You walked through the front door of your apartment with Shota, arms aching from all the heavy plastic bags cutting into them.
“Y/n, we are a one trip household , he’d screamed at you outside the car as he piled more bags onto your wrists, his own arms flexing under the weight of the ones he was already holding. Once inside, you lowered them to the ground as carefully as possible, but you were unable to avoid the loud clank of the glass bottles as you set them down. 
It had been Shota’s idea to host a party for the end of the school year, with your usual group (which you hadn’t seen since you and Jongseob had started dating). Your household was supplying the drinks, Jiung and Theo volunteered to bring snacks, Keeho was bringing chicken, and Intak was bringing his new girlfriend. 
After you’d both set the bags down and Shota had gone to his room to change, you looked around and noticed the house looked immaculate. You turned the corner into the kitchen to find Jongseob finishing up the dishes and hugged him from behind, smiling into his back and hooking your hands around his waist. “Thanks for cleaning,” you said, voice muffled by his shirt.
“No prob. Do we need anything else before tonight?” he asked, turning off the water as he put the last dish on the drying rack.
“Nope,” you replied, releasing him so he could dry his hands, then pulling him in for a hug, rubbing his back briskly. “I’m gonna go get ready, come on.”
He held your hand as he followed you to your room and you both got ready; you changed into baggy blue jeans and a white short-sleeved button-up, while he put on a pair of black baggy cargo pants and a fitted baby tee with pink text. As soon as you saw him, your mind went blank and your hands made their way, completely outside your control, to his tiny waist. 
“ Damn, ” you whispered as he giggled and pushed your hands away; you went to the bathroom to start on your makeup, fully in a daze. He joined you about halfway through to do his hair, putting it up in little half pigtails (using some of your tiny clear hairbands), and you truly could have disintegrated at how cute he was. 
After fighting weakly and losing rapidly, he let you dab some pearly eyeshadow on his inner corners and headed out to the living room as people started to arrive.
Taeyang and Jiung arrived first, arms fully loaded with bags of snacks that they set on the counter. As you pulled out large bowls to put them in, Taeyang leaned his ass against the kitchen counter next to you, arms crossed, and looked down at you with a piercing gaze. He was so beautiful, hair even longer than last time you saw him; he looked positively vampiric, with his dark hair, pale skin, and dark pink lips. Was he wearing makeup? You wondered, but then realized he’d just asked you a question.
“Hello, Earth to y/n?” he yelled over the music, and you smiled, embarrassed. “Sorry, what?”
“So? You and blondie?”
Your smile dropped. “How did you–”
“Intak told me because he’s such a little gossip, but I just wanted to verify it with you because I’m nosy.”
You laughed, dropping your guard a bit. “Ah, I see. Well, the rumor’s true,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. 
“Cool,” he responded, leaving to go join the others. That was it? You sighed in relief. You weren’t sure why you were expecting Taeyang to be mad, but you were just relieved he wasn’t. Or else, as far as you knew, he wasn’t.
Keeho arrived next with the chicken, which everyone started to dive into without waiting for Intak, and shortly after, Intak walked in with his girlfriend and introduced her to everyone, beginning with you. Her name was Lily, and she had dark round eyes, full lips, and beautiful dark hair; she was drop dead gorgeous, and you weren’t surprised. The two of them were a match made in heaven, a bisexual dream. 
An hour or two later, everyone was at least a few drinks in, and getting rowdier by the minute. Shota wouldn’t get out of Keeho’s lap, Jiung and Taeyang wouldn’t stop screaming at each other over Mario Kart, and you and Lily had basically become best friends. 
At the end of one of the Mario Kart matches, Shota jumped off of Keeho and started dancing, which made Jiung get up and started dance battling him, which resulted in your downstairs neighbors calling the cops because there was so much screaming that they couldn’t tell if you were hosting a party or if a mass murder was taking place.
After the cops left, Shota took off his shirt and started showing everyone the wall run that he’d perfected, adding to the footprints that already marred your white walls. You pulled out your phone and added magic erasers to your shopping list before going outside your front door with Jongseob to smoke. 
Neither of you were smokers but you sometimes couldn’t help yourself when you’d been drinking, so you always kept a pack on hand, just in case the feeling struck (like it did, now). You lit a cigarette, sucked in the acrid smoke, then leaned towards Jongseob’s face to allow him to light his from the tip of yours. Your head felt light and pleasant, and he looked so impossibly sexy, cheeks flushed from alcohol, pigtails a mess, the skin of his lower belly showing. 
After his next exhalation, you leaned in and kissed him, sloppy, needy, and slow. He leaned against the railing outside your door while you pressed into him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders passively, body feeling heavy. He giggled into the kiss, and you felt his smile against your lips, as he pulled away slightly and murmured something. 
“What?” you asked, voice barely a whisper, and he flushed more deeply, kissing you again. You pulled back again. “Baby, what did you say?” you asked again, becoming worried.
He giggled again, looking down. “I love you?” he said quietly, his tone raising at the end of the statement, almost making it sound like a question. But his face fell immediately as you stared at him blankly. “Sorry, I’m drunk, I shouldn’t–”
“I love you too,” you blurted out, eyes brimming with moisture as you kissed him again, more softly this time. You felt like your body was melting into his as he held you there, lips pressed to yours, hands dangerously low on your hips. You kissed him again, again, and again, then pulled him into a tight hug, burying your face in his chest as he kissed your head. 
You jumped as the door flung wide open and Taeyang screamed, “Oh my god, ” and made a gagging noise as he came out to join you. You separated slightly, giggling uncontrollably. He scowled at you both. “Y’all look like a coupla high schoolers. Give me one of those,” he said, holding his hand out, and you handed him a cigarette and a lighter. 
Taeyang was somehow both friendlier and sassier with the alcohol in his system, and proceeded to very casually talk with both of you in a way that he hadn’t done before. He asked you about how you’d been feeling since your injury and you were happy to report that you were finally feeling mostly like your old self again; you then used that opportunity to bitch about your shitty boss. He and Jongseob talked about finals and everything school-related. 
The conversation flowed from smalltalk to deeper topics, and soon the three of you were multiple cigarettes in, drunkenly rambling about ethical, political, and social issues. As Taeyang was on a particularly fiery rant, the door opened and out walked Intak and Lily, who jolted slightly at Theo’s volume.
“Hey guys, we’re taking off,” Intak said, bowing his head slightly and smiling at the three of you. He and Lily hugged you one by one and headed down the stairs. You glanced at your phone and realized that it was late . 
The three of you went back inside and Jiung was laying on the living room floor, eyes closed. Taeyang pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Goddammit Jiung, don’t make me carry you out of here.”
“Keeho and Shota went to go have sex or something. Everyone else abandoned me,” Jiung said, eyes still closed, his voice completely deadpan. The three of you felt bad but couldn’t help laughing as Taeyang helped him up and headed out the door to catch their ride. 
You shut the front door behind them and hopped on the couch next to Jongseob. The house was a disaster, but that would be a problem for tomorrow. You leaned on his shoulder; it had been a while since your last drink but you were still pleasantly buzzed, your throat mildly sore from the cigarettes.
Jongseob took your hand in both of his and cleared his throat. “Hey, y/n, I’m sorry about earlier, if what I said was… if it was too much. I was drunk, and not really thinking.”
Your heart sank, and you turned to face him, face crestfallen. “Wait. Did you mean it, though?”
He glanced away and nodded, looking ashamed. “Of course I did. No doubt about it. But, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to say it back,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact with you.
You guided his face towards you gently, forcing him to look into your eyes, his own eyes looking vulnerable and nervous.
 “I love you, Seob, so much. And I would never say that if I didn’t mean it. Do you understand?”
He smiled wide and nodded, leaning into your hand on his cheek as you brushed your thumb against his face affectionately. 
“Okay,” he said quietly, and you pulled him in for a gentle kiss, feeling more excited for your future than you’d ever been before.
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jeanystillbeany · 2 days
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BillFord Fic
I haven’t gotten invited to ao3 yet so I’ll just post it here anyway. It doesn’t have a name so I’ll just post a teaser or whatever. Idfk. It’s a billford fic ig. As soon as I get ao3 I’ll post it on there. I do have more written. I’m just taking the first part for a test drive. Let me know ur thoughts! (Literally anything- name suggestions scene suggestions, if i should post it on ao3, explanations etc.)
Entry 167: Series 6
  Out of all the curiosities I’ve studied in my travels, this has to be one of the most shocking enigmas yet.  This timeline had the bottom story of the shack left with two gaping holes at the top.  In fact, it’s as though the shack grew legs and walked away.  Which is completely bizarre- even for a weirdness magnet such as Gravity Falls, Oregon.  The countless timelines I’ve visited so far were nowhere near this level of insanity.  This level of… intrigument.  The state of the timeline has this enrapturing effect on me.  
  Recently the timelines I’ve been traveling through have had a different variable.  Two in fact.  As it turns out, me and my brother have a great-grandniece and nephew.  Dipper and Mabel.  While I’ve been careful to not interact with any timelines I’ve found myself caught up in (especially after that incident with the Time Police), I still somehow find myself growing attached to the two.  For the past few months I’ve been observing them through the different timelines I’ve traveled to.  There has also been the reoccurring pattern of their other ‘Gruncle’ re-emerging from the same portal I find myself appearing from every few days.  I’ve been waiting… counting down the days til it’s my turn.  And yet, I still don’t understand why I continue to keep that false hope in my pocket.  The multiverse is infinite.  The chances of me ever finding my home universe is nearly pointless.  While I could always take the place of another Stanford… The Time Police would be on my case in a second.  I also understand that the multiverse I was sent to wasn’t the same one as the other Stanfords.  While I’m dealing with infinites of my brother, they were dealing with beasts beyond basic human comprehension… and yet I’d much rather that than to be cursed knowing I’d never get home.  To see Dipper and Mabel fail… over and over… with myself unable to assist… sometimes I thought it was driving me mad.  
  I’ve certainly spent more time reciting the last few entries than I should’ve.  So I shall continue with the present.  The shambles of my lab have made for an adequate shelter.  (Save for the 2 overgrown hairless mole rats I’ve needed to fight off for my rations).  The sky appears to be a blood red, many of the familiar surrounding trees were reduced to brambles, probably by some larger species I’d like to take the time to investigate at a later hour.  This area has been intensely modified compared to the other Gravity Falls I’ve been in.  I have a hunch this is due to the large vortex that ripped through the dimension.  (That was in fact sarcasm my dear reader).  So far I’ve studied and dissected one of those overgrown Eye-Bats that can turn a person to stone just by looking at them.  From memory; I will promise they were much smaller and could not turn one to stone in my own timeline.  Why would anyone feel the need to weirdify these anomalies?  Some sort of apocalypse has settled over this world.  Whether or not it was always like this is unknown.  I’m leaning towards the latter though.  I shortly ran out of things to do after examining my last two specimens and I itched for more information on these preternatural creatures. 
Ford sat in what was left of his desk chair and kicked his feet up.  He would kill for a mug of coffee right now.  
Ford ran a hand through his hair.  Since the portal incident, he’s grown it out. He’s grateful he didn’t cut it when he could.  It more than likely would’ve exaggerated the up and coming gray hair.  Though… he shouldn’t exactly care how he looks because he’s not supposed to be seen in other timelines according to the Time Police.  In the end, he still does get a fond satisfaction of knowing he’s at least well kept.  And mistakes happen.  He continues to have the same clothing pattern of turtle necks- though he only ever wears them underneath his long coat.  It proved to be very useful when traveling timelines.  The amount of pockets he had to keep so many samples in almost seemed like cheating.  He also always had his bag with him.  Most of his pockets aren’t big enough for his journal, and he’s filled up a couple while he was traveling timelines.  His love of pockets also extended to his lower half making sure to have maximum pockets on his cargo pants.  He even bothered with a hidden one in his shoe for an emergency lock pick.  If that wasn’t enough, his obsession with Sci-Fi led to him wanting to live it to its full extent, so naturally he put knives in both heels of his boots as well.  
  Normally he’d care that there were some contaminated combat boots being rubbed all over his desk.  But now?  He thought he might as well embrace the end of the world.  He loved his family to death, but if any of them saw him in a timeline other than his origin the whole universe would collapse in on itself, and they would be the ones dead.  Ford could always scramble back to his portal and go to the next timeline.  According to the Time Police that is.   Though there have been many instances where he has intervened in his earlier days with no consequence.  
  The man mindlessly fiddled with his gun on the inside pocket of his coat.  He wanted to study more.  Maybe the giant gash in the sky was the root of his greatest mystery!  He unhooked his heels from the edge of his desk and swung them around towards the bunker hatch.  He pushed himself off from the armrests of the chair.  Stanford climbed up the ladder and popped his head out of the bunker.  He supposed the first step would be to find a lookout point.  If he was lucky he might be able to stay in one place long enough to do a quick sketch of this timeline’s situation.  The first place Stanford’s mind drifted was his abandoned UFO- though it was identified and no longer flying, so he dubbed it the alien spacecraftt.  It gave a perfect view of the entire town and was rather close to his current position.  Ford gave a once over of everything in his satchel.  He plucked out his journal in order to sift through the small bit of food, water and any other trinkets he had before neatly replacing it and went on his way.  
  As Ford traveled he kept a hand on his gun.  Aside from the terrors the scientist was getting antsy to encounter, he was the only other sound he heard.  His boots trudged along the ground -making distinct squishing sounds- as though he were walking in his own wet socks.  The ground beneath him was unnaturally wet causing the uncomfortable feeling.  There was the occasional shuffle as he adjusted his jacket to the odd temperatures.  Ford made a mental note to journal about the seemingly miniature air masses that drastically changed the temperatures in as little as every few feet he walked.  The long coat was currently adjusted to be draped over his shoulders, as Ford found this to be a happy medium and made a constant grip on his gun easier.  
  A rumble struck the ground just as Ford’s own foot hit the earth.  The man felt a jitter course through him, crawling up his spine.  
  “Another weirdness wave!”  The man exclaimed with much more enthusiasm than anyone else trapped in this hell bubble ever would.  He licked the first two of his fingers and raised them up in the air, turning them at different angles until he found the direction that gave his moistened fingers the most chill.  After finding the wind direction he quickly hid behind a tree and scrambled through his bag.  His six-fingered hand reemerged with a sort of hand made device.  It was made from old lab parts created during his first few days in this timeline.  It allowed him to calculate the intensity of the weirdness wave and further study its properties.  He carefully placed the machine away from the cover of the tree and braced himself for things to get weird.  
  The wave passed over Stanford relatively easily and he observed no mutations to himself.  Stanford went to pick up his wave reader when- 
  “Oh.  How peculiar… Shit.”  The man’s handmade invention had grown to compete with the surrounding forest’s pine trees.  For a moment the Author thought that he would be unable to run.  For a moment the Author believed he was frozen in time.  For a moment he saw himself as a child.  For a moment he saw his brother.  For a moment he saw the twins.  
  Stanford found the right gears that made the joints in his legs move.  This was no longer his invention.  It had grown six legs of its own.  The calculator screen that was once used as a makeshift reader display was its mouth and the antenna was its tongue.  Ford was tempted to take a picture, though he doubted such would be worth his life.  He raced through the forest.  It was almost as if its size grew due to this oddity apocalypse.  The scientist didn’t have a chance.  Every time he heaved himself over a log, the creature could bash itself right through it after him.  He needed to think of something… he’d kill to meet his niece and nephew.  
  The Author took out his loaded gun as he ran through the brambles.  He took a sharp turn, causing the monster to slide in an effort to regain its balance.  Ford began to aim as the creature was tipped onto its side.  It landed with a loud thump, causing multiple mutated birds to fly away startled.  Stanford lowered his gun and stood stunned in front of his creation, as its legs flailed about, damaging the surrounding shrubbery.  
  “Intriguing!”  Ford quickly snapped a picture.  As much as he’d like to inspect the helpless thing more, he deemed it safer to continue with his original task.  He would’ve stayed longer if one of the monster’s legs didn’t reach out and claw at his coat, tearing it down its side.  A bit closer and the scientist would’ve been seriously injured.   He jumped back and continued with his task of sketching this new timeline.  He also made a mental note to log his encounter in the journal when he was in the clear.  
~
  He finally made it to the spacecraft.  Ford would definitely consider using this as a hideout in this world.  Contrary to Ford’s belief, the state of this timeline was only in Gravity Falls.  He remembers studying the Natural Law of Weirdness Magnetism as a younger man, but he never believed it could affect anything to this extent.  Ford sat down atop the spacecraft.  He snapped a picture of the surrounding scene.  
Entry 167 B. Series 6
  There seemed to be a large barrier encasing Gravity Falls.  More than likely the Natural Law of Weirdness Magnetism.  I’ve studied the topic before and have come up with a simple equation to break it.  The scene before me is both exhilarating and dread ensuing.  To even think about the situations my brother and the kids have gone through haunts me.  I want nothing more than to be able to talk with them.  Even if it’s not my universe.  I want to hear their stories and watch them grow up… I wish for my own universe.  I’ve traveled the timelines for much too long.  I’ve watched them.  But I want to see them.  To meet my Mabel, my Dipper, my Stanley.  I want to meet my family.  But where would I even start?  The time police?
  I looked off to the sunless horizon and noticed a large pink orb sitting dead center of the train tracks with Mabel’s zodiac on it.  My breathing sputtered.  Just what were these kids into this timeline?  I decided it’d be best to head back to the lab.  I’d like to be there when the portal reopens.  
   Maybe… maybe I can try one more time.  My sentence is already high enough as it is with the Time Police… I want to help my niece and nephew… no matter what universe they’re in.  There has to be a reason the Time Police aren’t on my tail by now… especially after that monster was created.  I’ll spend the night at the lab again and work on relocating to the spacecraft tomorrow.  Then I’ll find my brother.  
  Ford replaced his bookmark into his journal and brushed himself off.  He stood up on the roof of the dead spaceship and gave one last glance at the world he found himself in before beginning the few hour trek to where the Mystery Shack once stood.  Stanford was nearly to his hideout. About where he left the wave reading monster.  There was one problem that had unnerved the Author for more than one reason.  A question that bubbled out of his mouth as soon as he seen the large clearing in the trees where the monster had been discarded.  
  “Where is it?” His question was shortly answered as a screech was heard not too far behind him.  
  “Fuck!  Are you Serious?!”  The scientist grumbled and quickened his pace.  It was following him.  Either it had extremely sensitive hearing or it was tracking him by scent.  Whatever the case was, his hands itched to jot it down in his journal.  He didn’t have much time for that as he found himself being chased by the beast once again.  Ford continued to race to the lab and attempted to slide into the underground space.  The mechanical creature’s claw lurched out and nicked his back, sending him flying forward and creating another large hole in the roof.  He landed ungraciously on the floor of his lab with a groan.  As a last resort Ford turned over on his back and began shooting wildly through the crack.  The mechanical anomaly screeched as it was shot at, retreating immediately.  Ford felt the back of his coat begin to soak and his vision blur.  The tips of his finger began to numb as his arm fell to the ground. 
   With one last screech, a fourth hole was punctured into the top of the lab, right over the portal, leaving Ford’s escape in shambles.  He would’ve screamed, or yelped with his hand held out dramatically as any Author such as himself would, but that was the last sight seen before he passed out completely.  
~
  “Do you think it’s dead?”  
  “I say we eat it”
  “Dudes.  Is it just me?  Or does it kinda look like Mr. Pines.” 
  “Soos.  It has SIX FINGERS!  SIX!  It had to be some sort of clone… or- or… imposter.”  Pages began to flip in the background of the following commotion.  Quiet muttering was also heard following each turn of paper- though it was mostly blocked out by the pounding in Ford’s head.  
  “Mr. Pines… do you… know anything about this?”  Ford was becoming conscious enough to pick out voices.  This seemed to be the only female among the group.  
  “Stanford…?” This was a new voice.  Much older than the others.  It wavered as it said his name- effectively snapping him out of the painful slumber he was in.  
  Ford started with a groan and his eyes squinted shut, adjusting to the abnormal light- even for the living world.  In this universe that is.  
  “Dudes.  It’s waking up.”  Ford mumbled and rubbed his head.  Thankfully the wound on his back didn’t go that deep into his back.  Though the semi-dried blood latching the fabric of his coat to himself was very uncomfortable.  
  “Sixer!”  Stanford opened his eyes just in time to see the back of a tacky red hat by the side of his head.  Arms enveloped his shoulders partially helping Ford keep himself up.  
  “Stanley…”  The scientist just barely breathed out.  
  “STANLEY?!”  Ford couldn’t be bothered to look up from his brother’s shoulder at the other’s exclaimation
  “Is anyone else confused right now?  Cause I’m confused.” Soos commented.  Stanley sighed before releasing his disoriented brother.  
  “Kids, Soos, I want you to meet… the author of the journals.”  Stan was hesitant to let go of his brother, as though if he let go of his brother’s shoulder he’d disappear back into the fabrics of existence.  Dipper did an excited squeal and almost ran up to properly greet his practical obsession, but Wendy put a calm hand on his shoulder to stop him from ruining the two brothers' moment.  She decided she needed more context with her boss’ secret twin before Dipper butted in.  
  “Stanley.  I need- I need to tell you something.”  Stanford’s voice wavered with guilt.  As multiple scenarios ran through his head.  More than likely this wasn’t his universe.  He doesn’t know what happened to his own timeline, or this one… though it’s not like he can continue traveling timelines with the portal busted.  Ford opened his mouth to speak- but no sound came out as a thought surfaced to his head.  
  ‘…what if this is my timeline?  What if the portal busted for a reason?  Maybe… I can stay a while.  They need my help…’
  “Yeah?”  Stanley asked- a small smile almost suppressed on his face.  
  “…I missed you.” Ford sighed out.  He pulled Stan back into him.  The other man slapped his back playfully with a goofy grin.  Ford winced and let out a small yelp.  
  “Oh… forgot about that.  Welp.  I smiled too little in the past 3 weeks to smile this much now.  Let’s get back to the shack.”  As if on queue, an ominous roar shook the ground under them. 
  “Agreed.” Wendy said.  
  “Yup, yup, yup, let’s go!”  Soos hauled Dipper over his shoulder and sprinted out of the Lab and everyone else followed.  Ford found himself lingering for a moment- his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the remains of his portal.  It’s gone.  It’s all gone.  
  “Hey, bro.  Let’s get out of here, ‘k?”  Stanley put his hand on Ford’s shoulder, offering a hopefully comforting smile.  
  “We have a lot to talk about Stanley…” Similar to any other earth tremble, the earth shook following the signs of a beast approaching.  
  “Yeah, yeah.  Can we do that later?”  Stanley tugged his brother along by the back of his coat leading him out of the lab.  Stanford followed behind- occasionally wincing from the pulling on his jacket.  
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hereliescuh · 2 months
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Stardew Valley Fanfiction: Life is Changed - CHAPTER 1: THE CHANGE
a/n: To whomever it may concern - Hello! This is a Stardew Valley fanfiction. It is the first fanfiction I've ever posted and the first long writing project I've had in a while - yet, I've got ideas that need to make it out or they will make me explode and that won't be good. Won't tell you too much about the fic other than the fact it will be aimed to be a Mr Qi x Female Reader fic at its essence, however, other storylines and romantic endeavours will be intertwined and it will not be a perfectly streamlined story. Warnings may include crime investigations, violence, romantic and sexual content, although not very explicit, and altogether it's an 18+ fic, so please be advised if you are under 18! The Reader in this fic will be named Cara Reader. I am not a fan of the Y/N trope, and there aren't many identified features of the character, other than her gender (female) and maybe the fact her hair is long enough to be tied back? Everything else is pretty ambiguous. The inspiration for this name is listed below. Also, the way I imagine Mr Qi while I'm writing this is something like how taterdraws (on Tumblr), ozzyeelz (on Tumblr), or lilli! (on Twitter) draw him. You are obviously free to imagine him however you like, but I feel like this is good context! I would also like to say I have been very inspired by certain works of writing and fiction, some of which Wild Nowhere by prismwizard (found on ao3, incredible SDV murder mystery), the Life is Strange franchise and general vibe of the games, especially the first game (you will find some references but there won't be a crossover), the Attack on Titan fanfiction To Sing a Song of Steel by CaptainDegenerate (found on ao3, the best Levi x Reader fanfiction that I've ever read) (this is where I got the main character name Cara Reader from), and other tiny ones which you might recognise. I have tried not to copy anyone without credit, but if I've made a mistake in that regard, please do not hesitate to let me know! If you are still here, then I hope you enjoy the read!
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Chapter 1: The Change
The lights came in hazily, slowly piercing through the darkness she was swimming in. Beautiful white glow, and somewhere she found it familiar, safe. Softly, gently, it illuminated the world around her as her eyes struggled to focus, revealing blurry shapes and casting deep shadows on the walls – The room, must be. She felt arms underneath her body, and her legs dangling heavily with the movement, and a familiar scent. She saw the shine of purple hairs in the corner of her vision, and she thought how beautiful it was. He was beautiful. She closed her eyes again.
When the pounding of her head appeared, it was the second time she woke. The room was smaller, darker. Unsafe. She could not move. Not me, she thought, struggling against the straps around her wrists and fighting a new wave of pain that seemed to consume her entire mind. Please, not me. Fighting, too, to open her eyes and look around and see. Amongst the blurriness and haze, behind the white light of a spotlight right above her head, were the unmistakable red lights of a hundred surveillance cameras.
A door opened.
┗━━━━━༻���༺━━━━━┛
The misty autumn morning brought a sweet smell to the valley, of wet earth and rotting red leaves and fresh cold air. Orange and bright, the sun cast its glow over grass and flowers and crops, and penetrated the dew with dancing rays or fire. The sky was a clear blue, bringing a crispness to the seemingly warm sight, letting the cold wind roam freely and cheerfully. It was Cara’s favourite weather, if a little bittersweet. The few good days during that part of the year were too short and too few, and it made her wonder how many more she would see before they truly ended. The inability to enjoy something for fear of losing it.
The farmer cracked open the tiny window of her kitchen and inhaled the scent, savouring it for a moment before turning on the coffee machine. She delighted in the view of the fresh pumpkins for a moment, still a little young for picking, but promising a good harvest, then made her way to the fridge. It had been almost exactly a year ago when she acquired it, and she was happy to be able to cook and store food in something other than makeshift wooden chests. She was happy about a lot of things recently.
As the coffee smell began to swim around her, Cara thought about the upcoming winter and the plans that had begun to hatch in her head. She got up and grabbed the cup, took a sip. Delicious. Today was important.
By the time she arrived in the town square, it was already warmer, the mist – gone, and the fiery leaves rustling gently with the breeze, once in a while dropping one slowly to the ground where it would soon darken and wither. She knew the winter chill would reappear in the evening and tomorrow morning, and then more and more often until it took over mercilessly, but for now, it was still a soft hint. Cara made her way towards the shop.
“Pierre!” her voice rang through the space. Pierre looked rough. His eyebags were his face’s most prominent feature today.
“Cara,” he yawned, “good morning.”
“Stayed up late for Marnie’s birthday, huh?” the farmer made her way to the register, taking her straw hat off. Lovely memory of winning the Egg Festival egg hunt, although, she thought distantly, it was probably wiser to leave it to the kids – and Abigail – next year.
Pierre’s weary gaze landed on her face and he sighed, “Don’t ask. Pam made us all drink shots after you left.”
“Looks like I missed the best part,” Cara smirked awkwardly. It was her who had brought the potent potato juice, and the smell still made her gag. As long as they liked it. “Have you still got any of that frozen melon from the summer? I’ve made all of mine into wine.”
“I believe I do,” the man slid his elbows off the counter with a grunt. Cara just stood beside the register and looked at him as he made his way to the closet freezer. He was a curious guy, a shop owner who did not show much different of himself than a regular family guy, yet there were moments – like this – where he did not look to be so straightforward. Not the drinking or the staying up late, no, there was something else that showed when he was tired. And it did now, when Caroline walked into the shop from the back door. Pierre glanced at her with hatred, concealed only to the untrained eye, as he was coming back with a bag of frozen melon.
“Morning, Cara!” the green-haired woman chirped. She was wearing a long flowy blue skirt and a knit sweater that matched her black boots. An autumn attire with a hint of summer remnants. She remained ignorant to her husband’s fleeting show of disdain, not even looking at him.
“Hey, Caroline. How are you and Abby doing?”
“She’s still asleep in her room, and I’m on the way to Robin’s. Apparently,” she glanced at Pierre with playful annoyance, “someone still hasn’t fixed our broken cupboard. So I’ll have to employ a real carpenter.”
Her husband remained silent, although Cara did see him prepare to say something when his mouth opened, but his jaw soon clenched and he managed a strained smile. The farmer chuckled uncomfortably.
“I’m sure she’ll make a quick job out of it. Thanks, Pierre.” She handed him a few gold coins. “I’m going to visit Haley. Actually, I’m kind of late, so I’ll leave you two to it.”
“Oh, Cara,” Caroline stopped the farmer at the door, “I almost forgot! Abigail wanted to talk to you about something. Said she’d be at the saloon later.” Cara nodded.
“I’ll meet her there in the evening then.”
“And tell her to come home earlier tonight,” Pierre added from the counter, raising his voice so it would reach her. It was hoarse. “No more walking around that tower, especially so late.” Cara nodded, again, unsure how else to answer.
┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛
Some days, she was happy to chat to people as she made her way around town, either heading to the beach or the mines, or to someone’s house to give a thoughtful gift before getting back to work. At first, she found it difficult, scary, even. People were cordial to her initially, well, most of them anyway. She managed to hide the fact she took offense when some of them were downright rude, and she suppressed the painful urge to leave and start over somewhere, anywhere else. If she was not fitting in where her grandfather had for so many years, then where would she? Then slowly, surely, she found more of them were treating her as an equal. That the nice ones were now acting like she was one of them, and the not-so-nice ones were… nice.
By the end of the first year, when the Feast of The Winter Star came along, she was chatting to almost everyone almost naturally, almost as if she had always belonged there. She remembered that day clearly, and she kept that memory close to her heart. It was freezing cold, a dastardly winter chill she could only battle with the warmth of the cherry wine she had made her first ever batch with. Gus was laughing, I knew you had it in you!
She had really hoped the beautiful blonde from the house on Willow Lane would like her gift. Cara had shivered when she read the name in Lewis’s letter, stating she was her secret giftee. By far, Haley had been the coldest, even colder and ruder than Shane, who had, by that time, become one of Cara’s closest friends in town. It had seemed that, no matter what, the girl would not give her an edge, being ever-distant, ever-unapproachable. Yet, there was one thing she’d said, she let it slip just once, almost accidentally, and it had been enough for Cara.
Luckily, the farmer had kept a few coconuts from her one trip to the desert on a boiling summer day. Once she’d fixed the bus, Cara had vowed to explore it, yet she never really found the time. Besides, she disliked the heat, the weird creepy cave, and she’d found the guy in the back of the desert shop suspicious. Like there was some secret club she was better off not knowing about.
So on the day of the Feast, Cara put them all in a box – all five coconuts – and tied it with a pink ribbon, to match Haley’s pink lipstick. She didn’t know why she thought about that, but she did, and it made her blush.
Was it you?!, the blonde had exclaimed at the end of the evening, when everyone was opening presents, when happy chatter surrounded them and the warmth of the bonfire dulled the cold winter bite. The kids were admiring their new toys, and the young adults sitting at the nearby table were laughing at a shared joke, but that had all been a background blur, giving way to the smile on Haley’s face that gave Cara butterflies.
You said you liked them, and…
I can’t believe you remembered, I said that so long ago, the blonde had laughed, melodically, like a thousand little bells.
Well, you never really say many nice things, so I aim to remember them. A frosty breeze blew over to shake the lively flames. The farmer had cursed herself for having so much wine.
I know… I’m sorry. I didn’t know if you even cared to know me.
I would love to, you know. I know that you’re nice, deep down. Very deep.
Hey! You need to learn to take a little banter, or we can’t be friends!
They’d laughed, together. Deal.
Since the Feast, things had moved well, and soon friendly meetings turned into something else. Haley grew warmer, and Cara learned to like the heat. She had told her, one day, as they sat on the beach in their bikini after a summer swim, relishing in the sunset, I've never been to the forest, you know. It might be interesting to explore it someday. CLICK!
Haley!
Sorry! I know you don’t like photos, but you do look lovely in the golden hour. So, what do you say?
So they’d spent the night in the forest by the lake, in Emily’s tent, listening to the chirping crickets and the mysterious noises that only occurred in the valley, until they’d melted together into the darkness, into hushed whispers and gentle moans, moving slowly, very slowly…
┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛
Now, however, Cara needed to hurry. She did not want to keep Haley waiting, and she was glad there was no one around to stop her to talk. They were making pink cake, it needed to be soon, as the blonde was not one for patience. Cara liked that about her.
The farmer approached 2 Willow Lane, tentatively at first, then walked up the steps to the door confidently. There was always a little nervousness when meeting someone like Haley, and Cara still struggled sometimes to keep up with what it meant to be with her. They weren’t “dating”, nor were they in a proper “relationship”, yet it felt like it was something special. Something more ethereal, more timeless, and unlabelable. At least she liked to think so. Cara knocked the secret knock.
┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛
“Hey, Emily. It’s Cara. I know you’re at work right now… you’re the only one who has a mobile phone in this whole town!” Cara laughed a shallow laugh, then cleared her throat and paused. “Maybe Haley went to the city or something… I mean, if she did, could you let me know? She’s not answering your landline. Anyway, thanks.” A pause. “Listen, if you see her, please tell her she should let me know about these things. I mean… I… I left her a message already. Not trying to be dramatic. Sorry. Call me back, please, when you can.”
The evening chill had already crept through the valley like a serpent, distinctly different from the fresh cold of the autumn morning. It felt darker, almost sinister, the way it signified the end of another, even shorter day. The sandy-yellow wheat rocked gently in the sunset, the fences cast a long shadow, and it was lonely, the animals had all gone inside. Lonely, and darker still.
Cara sat on one of the two armchairs she had wheeled into her living room the day Robin had finished the farmhouse kitchen expansion. It was only last month. There, now you’ll have the space for guests… and girlfriends, the carpenter had winked, evoking a blush and a seemingly annoyed sigh.
Is everyone in town aware of our relationship? Don’t you have anything better to do? Yet she could not contain her smile.
Honey, Emily told us you asked her to move in. It’s the closest we’ve got to town gossip right now!
Cara had grunted and slid her hands over her face, pulling at her cheeks dramatically. It’s more of a roommate kind of situation, we’re not dating!
But it’s pretty damn close, isn’t it?
The farmer hung up the phone slowly, as if waiting for Emily to speak back any second. She was at work, of course, in the saloon. The same place Cara was planning to go. As the clock struck six in the afternoon, the farmer wondered if she really should. She had, after all, looked everywhere else, and she thought she should ask Emily in person instead.
Maybe she forgot and really went shopping, Cara thought, not without annoyance, but also… not without worry. Wouldn’t she tell me?
When Haley had not answered and the door had not opened, Cara had stood blank-faced at the steps for a long excruciating minute, thinking. Maybe she had made a mistake, gone to wait somewhere else, forgotten about the cake altogether. It was no issue. They could eat the half-defrosted melon and laugh about it. The beach maybe? The forest lake?
Miss Cara!  their voices had echoed synchronised in their distinct childish excitement as Jas and Vincent came running over to her. She had hugged them both, absentminded, confused.
Cara? Penny had approached, following the kids, with a confused, or maybe worried, frown. Cara had thought about how impossibly red her hair had been. Are you waiting for Haley?
Yeah, she’d managed a smile, and the kids had stepped back towards Penny, happy with another successful social interaction. It would have been charming under different circumstances. She’s… I think she’s waiting for me somewhere else. Sorry, I must look like an idiot, the farmer had laughed, maybe a bit too loudly.
Ah, the frown had been replaced by a look of sympathy. It had been annoying. Well, if it helps, I think she went towards the beach this morning. Quite a bit earlier, though. Penny had fallen quiet for a moment. The beach. Cara had thought she must have gone for an early morning walk, maybe even a swim. In the cold autumn water. She disliked the cold. I was just outside the trailer at the time. Maybe she’s still there?
She had not been. Willy had not seen her either, Though, to be frank, I slept in like a bear today. It didn’t matter.
And Cara had gone to the forest lake. Around the lake, searching. She would have liked to come across someone else, someone who might have seen Haley, but all she saw was the cabin mouse. Me not seen the blondie. Hats?
It had been a long day of walking, Cara just realised, feeling her legs weigh her down to the chair, like two limbs made of lead. She had walked up to the mountains, spoken to Robin and Maru, and even the two old men in the Adventurers’ Guild. You know how she is, Shane had told her down by the closed ice cream stand today. Always shopping.
Then why not tell me?
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The bell let out a muffled ring as Cara walked through the door of the saloon. It was less lively today, after last night’s misadventures. Glasses clinked as Gus arranged them on the shelves, mixing with the quiet music flowing from the jukebox. Some sort of country. Pam and Willy’s chatter, ever persistent, almost drowned out the sound of pool balls knocking against each other and the quiet voices of the players commenting on each other’s shots. Cara made a mental note to approach Abigail later. As promised, Shane was waiting for her at his usual spot by the bar, drinking a pale beer from a glass tankard.
“Hey,” he greeted as the farmer approached him. He looked fresh, somehow. This must have been his first beer of the night. “Want to do it now?”
“Yeah, I’ll ask her now.” Cara stopped to look at Emily, who was cleaning the far side of the bar, a gentle smile plastered on her face. It was usually endearing. “I’m worried, Shane. What if she left because…” she trailed off, a memory flashing before her eyes.
“She didn’t. I’m telling you, Cara,” he insisted, leaving his beer on the bar, wordlessly showing he was paying attention to his friend, “ask Emily, you’ll see she just went to the city. Probably forgot to tell you or something.”
The blue-haired girl made her way to their side of the bar instead, beaming. Her red lipstick sharply contrasted her white teeth, but went well with the red of her dress. Cara turned to her, almost fearfully.
“Hey folks,” Emily leaned on the bar counter. “How’s it going?”
“Emily…”
“Where’s Haley?” Shane cut in, sharply and unceremoniously, earning a glare from Cara.
“Look,” the farmer continued, gently, looking back at the bartender, “I left you a message. I just want to know…” she inhaled shakily. She thought she was about to cry, but no, not yet. “Did she not tell me she was going because… Does she want more distance? Does she not want to move in?” Cara was quieter now, almost whispering. “She always tells me when she goes to the city. Please, if I’ve wronged her…”
“Cara,” Emily looked at her wide-eyed, confused, and took her hand, holding it on the counter. “I thought she was with you today.”
Cara pulled her hand back, grounded by the shock. “What?”
“Wait,” Shane interjected, “she didn’t tell you where she was going?”
“Going?” Emily’s eyes darted between the two of them. “I only knew about your date today, Cara.” Cara winced. Haley didn’t like to call them dates. As if it mattered now. “I didn’t see her in the morning, or in the afternoon… I haven’t seen her all day, I thought she was with you.”
“No, I…” A pang of worry pierced through her chest. Her feet went cold. “I didn’t…”
“Look, Emily, you would know if she left, so just spit it out.” Shane was yelling now. Pairs of eyes started to turn to them, glowing in the corner of her vision. Like hundreds of bats. Distantly, Cara could feel Abigail move closer with concern. The worst could not be true, yet it was. She was seeing through tears now, just barely.
Through the blur of the next few hours, she could remember a few distinct points. Yelling. The mayor. Disbelief.
She has to be in the city.
Doesn’t she have a mobile?
Did you check the beach?
She didn’t sleep. Morning mist. The police. Detective Madsen.
She hasn’t come home…
Cara, please, tell us everything you know.
The beach has been closed off. Penny said…
Please call us if there’s anything you need.
The weeks had passed. How many?
More posters? The whole town is covered…
Have you had anything to eat today?
She probably left this boring fucking town. Yoba knows I would. Oh. I… I’m sorry, Cara.
I’m afraid there’s nothing else we can do.
┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛
It was Winter 25th again. Stone-white clouds covering the sky like a blanket had become a permanent fixture over the valley, and frozen snow piled on the ground like a sea of ice. After all the chaos, it was quiet, eerily, as if someone had flipped a switch, and every little noise was absorbed by the very air, every movement damped. The stagnation after the storm.
For more than a month now it had been a near-constant repeating cycle of questions, interrogations, searching, and then… quiet. Every person in the valley had been under the bright white light in the community centre office, now turned into a kind of a police station for the lack of a real one. Not that anyone thought they would need it, though. Nothing like this ever happened here.
But when it did, when Haley disappeared without a trace, without a word, the police force from Zuzu City was the tiny town’s only hope. The middle-aged detective in a grey suit and a greying beard had almost become a resident for a while. Only, when his investigations yielded no tangible evidence, and hushed whispers around town became the only theories, he left. There was nothing else they could do.
It is my understanding you and Ms Williams were close.
You could say that, I guess.
Did she tell you anything suspicious. Anything like… a desire to leave the town, or any suicidal thoughts?
Suicidal? Cara’s cheeks had reddened violently with the anger building up inside her chest. Haley loved- loves life. She’s always eager to… absorb the world around her. And she loves the valley. God, just look at her pictures! It had been the third time she had spoken to detective Madsen. It was getting exhausting. She wouldn’t leave just like that. Not without a word, or… without me.
Had you ever discussed leaving together? It’s not uncommon, for a young woman to want to leave a small town. The man was serious, as always, his expression unreadable. She knew he was here out of his own will. Why would he bother asking the same questions over and over again? Was this some sort of interrogation strategy? Cara had sighed then.
I told you. She mentioned that “maybe one day” we could. It was nothing tangible. I’ve got the farm, and she’s got Emily, and… Oh, poor Emily. She has no dreams about the city. That I know of.
The man had nodded. The questioning had ended. No new leads.
Slowly, surely, the townspeople had settled on the most hopeful idea – that Haley left because, well, why wouldn’t she? There were no prospects, no life here for someone like her. She was- is beautiful, talented. Her place was in the city. Cara wanted to think so, too. Haley’s wallet and documents were missing. Maybe it made sense. Why wouldn’t she tell me? Yet why didn’t she tell her?
The morning light was disturbing, although dulled. Cara’s hair felt damp, cold. She hadn’t had the time to dry it the previous night, and it was too much work to light a fire. Everything was too much work nowadays.
She was awake, of course. Not that she could sleep much, but she had the tendency to wake up early every morning. With the investigation wrapped up, there was nothing she had to do today but lie in bed. It’s all she could muster, really. Somewhere in the distance, almost from another world, she could hear the footsteps of the mayor, delivering the post, penetrate the heavy winter silence, and she winced. Her letterbox must be overflowing. She supposed she should be thankful people write to check on her. It’s Emily they should worry about. Emily, who had not been to work in a month.
The knock on her front door shocked her eyes open. Seriously, Lewis? She thought people had decided to stop visiting already. Cara’s brows furrowed in annoyance and she buried her head under the unwashed duvet.
It was silent for a while, maybe half a minute. The knock sounded again. Cara thought they wouldn’t give up so soon, yes, but it was still irritating. She ignored it. The knock sounded again. Then again, louder this time. Just fucking leave!
“Cara… I’m coming in,” it was Marnie, and she did, indeed, come in. Forgot to lock the door again.
The woman’s boots echoed through the empty house, and Cara could hear her approaching. She was beside herself. In quiet anger, huffing, she managed to sit up in bed and put on the sweater sitting on her bedside table. She was zipping up her jeans by the time Marnie made it to the bedroom door, knocking. “Are you in there, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, just… give me a minute!” Cara hurried to the small bedroom mirror to assess the damage. Her hair was a mess, putting it mildly. Damn it. She put it up in a loose ponytail, gathering as many of the front strands as she could, and opened the door tentatively.
“Sorry, Marnie… I was still asleep. What’s up?”
“Yoba, child, look at you… You look like you haven’t slept in weeks!” The worried woman grabbed Cara’s hands and squeezed them lightly. “And you feel so cold! Have you been taking the medicine Harvey prescribed?”
“I… might have forgotten last night,” Cara mumbled. She had some sort of cold. No big deal.
“Cara, this is important, sweetheart! You cannot give up on yourself like this!” There she goes again, with her fucking therapy.
“Marnie, how…” she trailed off. She was way too tired for this. Marnie looked at her expectantly. “How are you not concerned? At all?” Cara pulled her hands away and stuffed them in her jeans pockets. She was scrambling for words, irritation piling up inside her. “Haley might be… And no one cares? Did we all really choose the most convenient option?” Her tone rose. “Give up and decide she just up and fucking left?” Crap, she thought, that’s why I shouldn’t talk to people.
Marnie was silent for a minute, concerned. She was a good person, and Cara’s attitude was unjustified, she knew. She sighed.
“I’m sorry, Marnie, I…”
“Look, child,” the woman cut in, gently, yet soundly. “I know it’s hard to accept. People have left town before-“
“Not without a trace.”
“My husband did.” Marnie’s face was stoic now, cold, her tone icy. It took Cara aback. “He left without a word, left most of his belongings here and took only the essentials. Then, one day,” she inhaled sharply, “he called me. He had travelled to another country, all alone, because, he said, he couldn’t bear it here anymore. I was relieved… hurt… desperate for him to come back.” Cara’s eyes fell to the ground, guilt and shame growing in her stomach like a concrete balloon. “I asked why he didn’t take me. Tell me. He said he had no choice.” The room fell quiet. Cara could feel the walls closing in. After a few seconds, Marnie spoke again. “It was Lewis who helped me then. He comforted me, helped me throw out Paul’s things.” The woman leaned in, softly. “We will help you too.”
“I haven’t gotten any calls, Marnie,” Cara answered in a near-whisper. “Haley and I weren’t even… she didn’t even tell her own sister.”
“Maybe she will never call,” the woman said softly. “Some people make that choice. I think… I believe she is out there, living her life, too scared to call.”
How I fucking wish that were true. Cara’s eyes were tearing up now. It had been some time since her tears had run dry, seemed like she was ready to cry again. Pathetic.
“Please, Cara,” Marnie began again, gently grabbing her hands again, pulling them out of her pockets, “join us tonight. It won’t be the same for anyone,” she was looking right into her eyes, pleading, “but you need to come. It will do you good. It will do us all good.” The woman smiled sympathetically.
“I’ll try, Marnie,” Cara sniffled. She was too tired to bear the emotional toll of rejecting someone.
The woman smiled and rubbed Cara’s arms warmly. When she left, Cara sat back down on the bed for a few minutes. Just don’t think about it right now.
The farmer, if she could call herself that at this point, forced herself to walk to the kitchen. The windows were fogged up already just from Marnie walking about for a bit, and icy on the outside. Cara balled up a bit of fabric from her sweater in her fist and rubbed the window above the dirty kitchen sink. She only regarded it with a glance. At least I ate something warm yesterday. She looked out to the white landscape of the farm, at the brown pumpkins poking through the snow and the rotting fences. At least Shane was helping her with the animals. She could not have kept them alive without him.
Cara decided she wanted coffee. That was a good start. There were some coffee beans left in the machine, and she left the tap on for a few minutes to clear out the pipes and fill the water tank while she stared out at her near-abandoned farm. Then, it was a delight to have something warm in her hands. It didn’t even taste moldy.
She sat down on an armchair, and looked around the room. She hadn’t been able to throw out the other armchair yet, which sat lonely across her, mighty red. Haley hadn’t been her only guest, of course, people used to come over for tea. It was useless to hide, though, that she’d hoped the blonde girl would become its regular user. The thought sent a sharp pain through her chest, the farmer sipped at the coffee.
It hadn’t been that long yet, but it seemed that people had begun to fall back into their usual routines. Almost everyone. She hoped people were giving Emily and Alex the support they needed. They had spoken, the three of them, initially, eagerly helping with the investigation, looking through Haley’s room and walking around the places she used to go with metal detectors and brooms.
Emily broke first. She let the worst possibility take a hold of her mind, and it made her almost hysterical. Cara knew then that it was only a matter of time until everyone else gave up too. She was next, in fact. She didn’t break, no, she just… bent. She was embarrassed, ashamed, but when the numbness took over, she could not fight it anymore. She used to take Alex’s calls every day, listening to him about his daily trips to the beach in case… something… washed ashore. Or in case he found a clue in the sand. One day, they stopped too. It was Abigail who had told her he had left town to live in a rented apartment in Zuzu, leaving his grandparents behind to work at a fast food restaurant. He called sometimes, but they were devastated. At least they know where he is. That was the last straw for the farmer, and she finally retreated. Back into the old cold farmhouse, alone. Just don’t think about it right now.
She didn’t allow herself to admit it, but Marnie’s visit had brought a bit of life into her. She wondered if she had told that story to anyone else. Probably. It made her sad for Marnie.
Shaking her head to clear it, Cara let her mind focus on the upcoming Feast. She distantly thought about the fact there was probably someone she was expected to give a gift to, tonight. The thought made her head ache and her palms clammy, but there was something that pushed her to do it anyway. She couldn’t believe it – her Haley was missing, and she was thinking about a fucking feast. She shook her head again. Just don’t think about it. She was tired, so tired of being that way. Just for today.
┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛
The boots felt heavy on her feet, the jacket smothering her with its unbearable thickness. It will only be a couple minutes. Inhaling, she turned the handle and opened the front door. Surprised, she realised someone, maybe Marnie, had cleared the steps of snow. Yes, it was probably dangerous to walk on when it was frozen. She felt embarrassed.
Slowly, carefully, she made her way to the letterbox beside her porch. Every step was both difficult and loud, an agonising crunch reaching the very depths of her head, mercilessly poking at her headache. She felt the screech of the metal deep in her teeth when she opened it, revealing tens of envelopes of different sizes, a couple of them blue. It was nice of Rasmodius to care, though he wasn’t very talkative.
Once back inside, Cara leaned against the door with a long exhale and kicked her boots off. The cold in her fingers was unbearable now, and a few letters dropped to the ground as she was stomping towards the living room table. She let them stay on the floor while she finally lit a fire in the red fireplace and stood in front of it with her arms extended, relishing in the warmth she hadn’t felt all winter. Her fingers began to tingle pleasantly. When they were back to life, she traced back and picked up the letters. One by one.
There was Abigail, checking up on her. Wishing her good luck. Asking about her health. Talking about the quartz she had found at the entrance of the mines. Cara remembered her first trip to the mines, before she reached the lower levels, when everything was wondrous and exciting. Now, it was all the same, and all boring.
There was Shane, writing about the animals. He had stopped coming over to the house when Cara had asked him to leave her alone. He had understood. He did his work silently, now.
There was Marnie, inviting her to come over. Cara supposed that invitation was cancelled once Marnie barged into her house earlier today. Uninvited. She couldn’t help but smile a bit. The warmth from the fireplace was doing its wonders.
Rasmodius, writing advice about spells that could help with mental wellbeing. A couple of amethyst shards. When had he become so invested?
Her parents, just one letter. Five hundred pieces of gold and kind regards. That was it. Cara didn’t mind.
Harvey. Evelyn. Gus. Caroline.
And there was Lewis, enclosing a thousand pieces of gold. He thanked her for her work in the investigation. There it was – her secret giftee was… Elliott. She supposed he was nice enough. Squid ink then, if my squids are still alive.
Cara suddenly felt tired. The warmth and the soft orange light had made the place cosier and she could feel her eyelids struggle against their weight. The last letter was still sitting on the table, untouched and, strangely, unlabeled. She felt a pang of annoyance at the people who had nothing better to do than send spam letters, coming through the valley in their ugly blue vans, desperately trying to gain customers from the valley ever since their Pelican Town shop was shut down. People rarely left the valley, and when they did, it wasn’t for something as trivial as JojaMart. Cara swallowed a lump in her throat. Just don’t think about it.
She had gotten this far. Her arm extended to grab the final letter and she turned it over in her hands. It was light, and the paper felt… quality. It was not like the spam she had previously received, but it was not from anyone in town, she knew, somehow. She almost felt bad tearing it open. Once her eyes landed on the peculiar handwriting, she squinted. It was beautiful, yet… eerie. She read it slowly, then quickly. Again and again. And every time, it made her more and more intrigued.
I see you've entered the Skull Cavern. Well done.
I've got a better challenge for you, kid. Make it at least 25 levels deep. I've got a mountain of $ to send if you can do it.
Your friend, Mr. Qi
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spacesapphi · 2 months
Text
There's Always Time
WAOW uploading my first Stardew fic, surrounding mostly Marnie this time!
Synopsis: Today's the day Marnie decides she'll get Lewis to go public with their relationship. She's determined to let nothing get her down, but the day seems to have other plans for her. Perhaps a certain adventure can remind her of the good in life
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Word count: 8,412
CW for mentions of a previous death and drinking
Story below the cut!
Important note! A few parts of this fic have Pennsylvania Dutch words written in it, so I have a small translation section up here. Keep in mind that I am fairly a beginner at the language and doing my best grammatically given the few resources that exist 🙏
Distelfink- a folk art symbol of a bird that represents happiness and fortune
Aendi - Auntie
“Ach, schlecht exempel” - Ugh, bad example
Schatz- treasure/dear, used often by parents towards their kids
“lieb dehr beed” - love you both
Gottverdam - damn it!
zwieschpalt- troublemaker
onto the fic!
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Mondays were supposed to be a calm day off for Marnie, a day where she had time to herself, things to look forward to besides her normal chores. Jas would be at school, Shane at work, and she would be able to bask in the peace and quiet. Usually she’d take time to work on her quilting, or go chat with the women in town at Pierre’s, pretending to shop as they gossipped. This Monday was special, however. She had a date with Lewis tonight, and she had a very important question for him.
It seemed every person and creature in this household had other ideas for this particular morning, however. She had been woken up at 7 am to the sound of a disagreement brewing in the kitchen, a sour start to her morning.
“Jas you need to put your shoes on, now.”
“But I wanna go say hi to the cows before we go! Pleaaaaaase!”
“We’re already about to be late for school and work, kiddo, we don’t have time.”
“I always say hi, they're going to be sad if I don't!”
“And I'm going to be sad if I get fired, let's go.”
“PLEASE.”
“No.”
Her nephew’s exasperated voice permeated through the door. This scene wasn’t too uncommon for their household. Jas liked an exact routine for each morning; get dressed, eat, say hi to the animals, then leave for school. She wanted it to be exact and punctual each day, but there were many days that threw a wrench in the schedule. Now that it was thrown off, the young girl immediately was put in a mood, and that was putting Shane in a mood as well.
“Yoba I’m too hungover for this” he thought to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a deep sigh, “Look, Jas, if I bring home a treat for you today, will you get your shoes on?”
The young girl thought for a moment before nodding, running off to her room to grab her little mary jane shoes. Shane gave a small sigh of relief, not having the energy or willpower to battle with her any longer.
“Ach, schlecht exempel… You shouldn’t give in like that.” Marnie scolded, walking to stand next to him, “It’ll spoil her.”
“You win some, you lose some, and I’m already losing the battle with my patience.” her nephew groaned, “I’m willing to get her a snack if it means she gets to school on time, and I get to work on time.”
Marnie opened her mouth to speak, a lecture already brewing up in her head, but she stopped herself. He was in no mood to receive advice from her, especially parenting advice, and she didn’t need more bickering this early.
“Okay, okay…” she pursed her lips for just a moment, “You remembered to fix the cabinet by the way, right? I wanted to get it decorated today.”
“Yeah, yeah I think I did,” he shrugged.
"You think you did, or you did do it?" Marnie raised a brow.
Shane thought long and hard. The last few days were a blur, but he believed he had a memory of doing it. After a few seconds he nodded, "Yeah... I did, don't worry," he gave her a brief smile, keeping a hand on his throbbing forehead. He was beginning to regret the previous night.
“Are you hungover again?” Marnie asked exasperatedly, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, schatz.”
“I don’t want to talk about this again, please?” he grumbled defensively.
“This is the third day in a row, I’m wor-”
“Please stop.” Shane looked at her with an expression halfway between embarrassment and annoyance. He knew he had a problem and Marnie was only looking out for him, but it didn’t make him feel any less shitty about it, “Sorry.. I’m sorry.”
His aunt nodded slowly in acknowledgement, looking fairly frustrated herself, “Listen, I’m going to be heading out as soon as you get home, so you need to be here with Jas,” she changed the subject.
Shane raised a brow, “Where are you going?”
“If you must know, I’m meeting a special someone for a date,” a tint of blush appeared on her cheeks.
“Aendi I know it’s Lewis.”
Marnie’s face went white, “Is it that obvious?”
Shane winced uncomfortably, giving her a slow nod. Marnie and Lewis' relationship had to be the worst kept secret in town. The pair pretended like no one knew, but nearly everyone was acutely aware of the couple. It was almost a game amongst some of the townsfolk betting on when they would finally crack and admit it.
“I'm ready to go now...”, Jas stepped back into the room, fully ready for the day. A pout sat on her face, the girl still obviously very upset about the change in routine. Shane looked at his watch, huffing in annoyance, “Ohhhh Morris is gonna fuckin’ kill me.”
“Language.” Marnie warned, lightly hitting his arm.
Shane huffed and motioned to the door exaggeratedly, “Alright kiddo, we gotta run let’s go.”
“Remember, come straight home after work!,” Marnie called out, “No saloon.”
“Yeah, I get it.” Shane mumbled, feeling just a bit offended, “I can go a night without being there, you know,”
“Just a reminder,” she said, “I’ll see you two soon, lieb dehr beed!”
The pair gave her a wave as they ran off, racing against the clock to get where they needed to be. Finally, Marnie had the house all to herself. No disagreements, no problems, just her and the ranch. There were chores to do of course, such was life, but she didn’t mind them all that much. Nothing was going to keep her down, because tonight would be the night her life was going to change, and for the better this time. Tonight, she was going to tell Lewis they were going public about their relationship.
She smiled at herself in the vanity mirror in the foyer, fixing her hair into her signature braid. She felt confident, she felt good! After tonight she wouldn’t be Lewis’ little secret. She was going to be able to hold his hand in the town square, waltz with him at the Flower Dance, openly go on dates at the saloon. Just the thought of it made her heart soar. Nothing could ruin her mood.
That was, until she stepped into the kitchen. It was a complete disaster. Remnants of Shane’s 2 am freezer raid and mess from the breakfast he made for Jas littered just about every counter and surface. Cans next to the recycling bin, a frozen pizza box haphazardly teetering on top of the microwave, dishes stacked on the stove, table and counters. From being in such a rush he had neglected cleaning the scene, leaving it to Marnie instead.
“He’s doing his best… he’s trying… I have to give him that.” she thought to herself, holding her head in her hands. She waited for the tight feeling in her chest to dissipate before taking a deep breath to ground herself. It was just a little bump in the road, an obstacle she could easily tackle.
“Nothing is going to get you down. You got this, Marnie,” she reminded herself. She just thought of Lewis, of their rendezvous tonight, and she felt just a bit lighter.
It didn’t take too long to clean up, she thanked Yoba for that. Didn’t make it any less frustrating, but she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind for now. There was no time for her to feel bad, she couldn't allow herself. As long as she had been running the ranch, she had been seen as a beacon of positivity in town. It was a hefty title to carry, a draining one even, but if she just kept smiling, life would go by just fine.
She didn’t want to ruin the kitchen she had just so perfectly cleaned, so she just threw a frozen breakfast sandwich in the microwave, leaning against the counter as she waited for the timer to go down. Looking to the old clock on the wall, she tsked seeing the time. It was already half past 8, the morning flying by in the blink of an eye. She had so much she wanted to do before meeting with Lewis tonight, and she wasn’t sure she’d have the time for it all. Cleaning the coop, working on her quilt, and decorating that curio cabinet in the foyer. Only three tasks, but time consuming ones. She removed the sandwich from the microwave, blowing on it before tearing into it as she arranged the schedule in her mind. The coop would likely take the longest, and it was a priority. Best to get it done early before it got too warm.
The coop was loud and lively, the hens strutting around impatiently as they waited for Marnie to open the little hatch that led them out to their field. Donning her work gloves and boots, the woman waded her way carefully through the flock and unlatched the hatch, watching amusedly as the chickens ran on out to bask in the yard. It never got old, seeing them get so excited like that. She grabbed the pitchfork from its hook on the wall and gripped it tight. Time to get this done with.
As she scraped up the old straw from the ground, Marnie let her mind wander, imagining the evening ahead of her in great detail. She could practically feel it, sitting with Lewis at his table alone in the candlelight as they talked about their future. Marnie would suggest they finally tell the whole world about their love for each other, abandoning all worries. They could get married, have a beautiful ceremony in the middle of town for everyone to see. She had her mothers wedding dress somewhere stuffed in a hope chest, a beautiful gown any woman would feel like a princess in on her special day. She could feel her heart swell with childlike glee as she thought on it more. Today was the day, and she couldn’t be more excited.
A shrill squawking from the yard broke her from her frilly daydream, one that she knew meant trouble. Throwing down her pitchfork she shuffled her way through the hatch door, catching a view of one of the hens squeezing through a gap in the chicken wire, running off into the forest with reckless abandon.
“Mathilde! Come back here!” she called out, “Gottverdam!” she vaulted herself over the fence, immediately regretting the decision as she felt her body ache. She wasn’t young enough to be able to pull stunts like that anymore.
The little brown hen was much faster than her, darting in and out of trees as Marnie chased after her. The tricky thing was an escape artist, and she had no idea what danger waited out there for her. Wolves, coyotes, bears, all creatures who wouldn’t think twice about eating her up. Marnie didn’t want to run into them either, knowing full well she couldn't fend them off. Why did everything have to be so difficult today? Was it some bad luck day where “the spirits were displeased” as the farmer always put it? Whatever, that wasn’t important. What was important was finding Mathilde before something else did.
She could hear the hens soft clucks, but had no idea where they were coming from. The forest tended to have an echo to it that made noises carry. She tsked and called out for her once again, hoping Mathilde would run to the sound of her voice. Suddenly, the clucks turned into panicked squawks, sending a shiver down Marnie’s spine. She could finally tell where the noise was coming from, just a few feet away over in the clearing beyond the brush. She picked up a hefty stick, prepared to fight whatever creature had gotten to her poor little hen. Running towards the source of the sound, she held the stick over her head, preparing to lunge.
From behind the brush, a man stepped out, holding the hen in his arms. His face contorted in terror as he saw Marnie lunge towards him, dodging out of the way before he got lobbed in the head with the stick. The rancher yelped, stumbling back as soon she registered that he wasn't a wild animal.
“I’m so sorry! I thought you were an animal.” she apologized profusely. She dropped the stick, taking a good look at him. Shaggy gray hair hung in front of his wrinkled face, a patch over his left eye. A bulky cape hung from his shoulders, shrouding his frame in mystery, the silvery glint of a sword sitting at his waist. Her eyes widened as she recognized him.
“Marlon! Oh I’m so sorry!”
The man chuckled, “It’s quite alright, ma’am.” he held out his arms, Mathilde resting in his hands, “I take it this one is yours?”
“Yes! Thank you so much, really,” she took the chicken in her arms, scolding her like a child, “You zwieschpalt, don’t do that to me! What if this nice man hadn’t found you?”
The chicken just stared at her with blank eyes, obviously not understanding the danger of her escapade. All she knew was she wanted to run around and play, and there was a whole forest in front of her! Marnie held her close to her chest and smiled, looking up at the mysterious man, “What brings you down to the forest today? I don’t see you near town unless we’re having a festival.”
“The new farmer reported seeing some creatures around here, monsters from the damned mines who got bold and decided to take a chance out of the caverns.” Marlon sighed, “No matter how many times we slay them they just keep coming back.”
Marnie raised a brow, “I haven’t seen any monsters,”
Marlon put a hand on his sword's hilt, a small smile on his face, “Then I’ve done my job well… I must be going now lass, but it was good to see you again.”
“Oh…” Marnie frowned in disappointment, “I’ll see you at the fair next week though, right? I can’t wait to show you what I’ve been working on!”
“Aye, you will. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Marlon gave her a short salute, “Take care, Ms.Yoder.”
The man walked off, his mysterious aura still captivating the rancher. She held Mathilde closer and whispered, “He’s handsome, don't you think?.... Don’t tell Lewis,” the hen bawked in response, getting a small smile from her owner, “Let’s get you home.”
Walking briskly back to the ranch, she was thankful that seemingly none of the other hens had squeezed their way through that little gap. Hauling herself over the fence, Marnie placed the hen back down in the pen, watching her run off to her little flock of friends, squawking away as if she was telling them all about her escapade. The rancher reached into her pocket, pulling out a fabric scrap and looping it through the chicken wire, tightening the part that split. It was a temporary hold for sure, but hopefully would ward off the hens from getting bold again until she had the material to properly fix it. If Marlon was right about monsters coming down to the forest, she didn’t want to have to go run after one of them again.
Going back to finish cleaning the coop took quite a bit of time, but Marnie was proud of her work. The enclosure smelled fresh and clean, fresh soft straw laid down on the ground for the hens to roost in. She herself wasn’t exactly the cleanest after finishing though. Sweat from the heat clung to her skin, stray pieces of straw sticking to her hair and clothes. She checked the little watch on her wrist, 1:00pm. She had just enough time to get ready and work on the curio cabinet before her date with Lewis. She hated pushing off the quilt work again, just itching to pick up sewing again, but it would just have to wait for now. Such was life.
But oh, how fun it was getting ready. Marnie felt just like those princesses in those movies Jas loved to watch, dancing around as she donned her favorite dress, mind full of thoughts of her “one true love”. She decided on a nice, purple gown for tonight, sewn in a similar cut to her everyday wear, but much more lavish. The fabric was soft and high-end, detailed embroidery along the bodice and skirt's hem. A silk shawl was wrapped around her shoulders, pinned in place with a brooch she’d gotten from her mother. A little distelfink was painted on the front of its opaline surface, a prized possession she hoped would bring her luck and new beginnings this evening. In the spirit of doing something new, she decided to keep her hair down, finding she loved how it framed her round face. Hopefully Lewis loved it too.
She felt beautiful, like a new woman. The stressors of today were the last thing on her mind, and oh how glad she was for that. A life that was simple meant that many days she had nothing more to do than stew on what had happened. Maybe that all would change too. With being in the public eye, maybe she could have more say in town, have more to do, places to go. She loved her family and her ranch, but she wanted, needed, more. And Lewis would provide that for her, she knew he would.
It was 5:30 now. Marnie had time for just one more thing before she had to get going. She looked to the little hope chest that sat at the foot of her bed and grabbed a heavy box from the bottom, full of old trinkets and heirlooms. Little porcelain statuettes, vases, and even some jewelry. But the most important piece of all was the music box that lay at the bottom. Marnie gently grasped it, removing the cloth the protected its fragile form and taking a good look at it for the first time in years. Upon a pedestal with a turnkey stood a glass statue of a dancer dressed as if she were at a ball, arms held out wide in a pose of triumph. The name “Mona'' was inscribed in gold lettering at her feet, a name that made Marnie’s heart ache.
It had been 27 years since she had passed now. She still missed her sister dearly, and cherished every last bit of her memory that remained; family photos, Shane, and this music box. Putting it out on display had been an idea for some time now, but only recently did she have the heart to pull it from storage. It was difficult seeing reminders of her even after so long, but it was time to confront this feeling again. The birthday they shared was coming up, and it would be nice to have something of hers in the main room. It would be the center of attention, the centerpiece on the middle shelf that caught everyone's eye. Ever so carefully, she placed it on the shelf, hearing the soft clink of porcelain against the wood. Removing her hands, she stood back to take a look at it, a small smile on her face. The cabinet was beautiful, fitting in perfectly with the decor of the foyer. It made the counter area look homier too. This is exactly what she needed to finish off the day.
But then, the shelf slipped. The support hadn't been placed as promised, causing the wood to crack under the weight of the heirloom. Without time to react, the antique slipped and crashed onto the floor, shattering on impact. It took her a moment to process, a sick feeling in her stomach when she saw the dancer in pieces, an echo of the music box components ringing out discordantly. All she could do was stare, hands shaking as a silent rage built up inside of her. The frustration that was pent up in the back of her mind burst from its confines, making her dizzy with anger. Why couldn’t one thing go right today? Why couldn’t she just have a simple, peaceful morning, why couldn’t she trust her nephew to fix something so simple? She knew it wasn’t out of malice, rather forgetfulness, but somehow that made her feel worse.
The rage was quickly joined by a heavy weight of sadness, pulling Marnie to her knees as she looked at the scene in front of her. Shaking hands picked up the shattered porcelain pieces in front of her, careful to not cut herself on the sharp edges. She wanted to cry, to scream, but she couldn't. Something in her mind stopped her, as much as her heart begged her to. Scooping the broken pieces into her arms, holding it close to her heart, she stood and placed them on her shop counter. She felt sick to her stomach.
The front door swung open, the sounds of laughter flooding through the front doorway. Shane walked in, looking much better than this morning, with Jas sitting on his shoulders. She held the previously promised treat in her hand, a little pastry that her godfather had “borrowed” from the backroom at work. She was chattering away about some new book Penny had her reading at lessons, and Shane contentedly listening to her rambles. He lifted her off his shoulders, placing her gingerly on the ground, “Alright chickadee, why don’t you go say hi to the cows now? I’m sure they missed you today.”
Jas nodded excitedly, running off towards the kitchen door that led to the animal housing. Her giggles echoed out as she closed the door, her ever-so-loud voice still audible through the walls as she greeted the animals. Shane smirked and shook his head, turning to his aunt. He held up a little takeout bag with the saloon logo, “Hey Marn, I got dinner handled for me n’ Jas tonight. If you need to go now we’re fine.”
“I thought you said you fixed this.”
Marnie didn’t so much as turn to face him, her voice uncharacteristically ice cold. It sent a shiver down her nephew's spine, his smile dropping into a concerned expression, knowing he screwed up, just not how. He looked over to where Marnie was facing, seeing the collapsed shelf of the curio cabinet and tiny glass shards on the floor. Oh shit. He thought he had fixed that already, he truly did.
“Aunt Marnie I’m so-”
Marnie held up a hand, cutting him off, “I don’t want to hear it.” she turned to face the doorway, still refusing to look him in the eye, “I’ll be home late tonight. Leave the door unlocked for me.”
She stepped out without another word, refusing to look him in the eye. Shane was left alone in the foyer with a heavy guilt sitting in his stomach. With Marnie gone he could see the mess on the counter, approaching it to see what had broken. The first thing he saw was his mother's name. The guilt sat heavier, a sick feeling accompanying it. He didn’t know her for all that long, Mona had died when he was barely old enough to remember her, but he knew how much she meant to his aunt. And now, another act of his forgetfulness had destroyed something of hers. He felt like shit, and he knew Marnie deserved to be angry with him. Hell, he was angry with himself. What a mess he was making of things. He thought back on the entire day, cringing as he realized just how badly he had messed up. His attitude this morning, the mess in the kitchen, and now this. He had to make it up to her, he just had to.
Jas stepped back inside, not initially noticing the mess, “I’m back! I told Bertie aaaaall about today, she’s such a good listener!”
“Watch out for the glass!” he warned, pulling her away from the cabinet. Damn, he needed to sweep that up.
“What happened?” she asked, confused at the sight before her.
Shane peeked into the kitchen, grabbing the broom and dustpan off the hook on the wall, “I made a mistake, but I’m gonna make it up to Aunt Marnie. Wanna help?”
“Yeah!”
—------
“You’re going to have a good night… Don’t let this steal your joy.” Marnie whispered a little affirmation to herself as she approached the steps to Lewis’ home. It did little to ease her heart, but she needed to stay positive, at least appear positive. That’s what Lewis loved so much about her anyways, her ability to always be such a sunbeam even in the hardest of times.
The front door swung open with a creak, the mayor she loved standing in the doorway. Lewis was dressed in his favorite attire, brown suspenders and a deep green dress shirt, but Marnie thought it looked lovely. The mayor looked to the left and right, as if to check that no-one was watching. Once he saw that the coast was clear, he pulled her inside, wrapping her in a tight embrace.
“How are you doing, dear?” he whispered, kissing her cheek softly. Marnie smiled, letting out a small laugh as she leaned into the crook of his neck, “Better now that I’m with you.”
Lewis grinned, eyes crinkling up in the corners, “That’s good to hear…” he motioned to his dining room table, now decorated with candles and a lace tablecloth, “Why don’t you sit, I made your favorite tonight.”
All the anger and frustration was quickly returned to the back of Marnie’s mind. None of it mattered now that she was in Lewis’ arms. For now, there were no troubles here. Lewis indeed made her favorite, a hearty farmers lunch. It was a simple dish, but one that had many good memories attached to it. Just the smell transported her back to a simpler time, a time when everything was right in the world.
The couple made small talk, speaking about the town, all the hot gossip that had been spreading around. Pelican Town looked like a sleepy little village from the outside, but one would never guess how much drama was unfolding behind closed doors. Everyone had something going on, and with such a tight knit community that meant everyone knew about everything. The conversation switched to Lewis’ day. Not much interesting going on with him, he was afraid. He gardened, took a walk around town, and spoke with the new farmer in the town square about a secret little quest he had asked help with, but that was about it.
“ Nothing wrong with a simple day!” Marnie mused, taking a sip of her drink, “Sounds peaceful.”
“I guess it was,” Lewis chuckled, “How about you? What has my angel been doing today?”
“Oh you know, the usual. Cleaning, tending to the animals, decorating. Wasn’t much more exciting than your day, unfortunately.” the voice in the back of her head gnawed at her, begging her to be open about what had truly been going on. Against her better judgment, she listened, “Actually, maybe that’s not entirely true.”
“Hmm?”
“I… had a hard day actually.” she mumbled, “There was a spat this morning, one of the chickens got out, and-”
Lewis put up a hand, cutting her off, “Don’t you worry about all of that dear, just focus on the positives.”
“But-”
“Marnie, dear,” Lewis put a hand on hers, “It doesn’t help to dwell on the negative. We’re here now, we’re having a good time. Let’s look to the future.”
Marnie pursed her lips, pulling her hand away slightly. Lewis was never someone who enjoyed talking about serious things, and she understood, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Maybe he was right though, maybe she needed to focus towards the future.
“Well….” she began, folding her hands neatly, “I’ve been thinking recently.”
Lewis raised a brow, “About what?”
“About us.”
“What about us?”
Marnie sighed, taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing, “I want to make our relationship public!”
She looked to her lover with a hopeful smile, scanning his face to see what he was thinking. Lewis didn’t look impressed with the idea, quite the opposite really. He sighed and put a hand to his head, “Marnie…. No.”
“What do you mean no?” Marnie felt her voice grow defensive, a tightness in her chest, “Lewis we’ve been dating for 3 years now and you refuse to tell anyone!”
“You know I can’t!” Lewis scoffed, “I have a reputation to uphold in this town, an image to maintain. What would people say if they knew about us?”
The sentence stuck a dagger in Marnie’s chest, the heartbreak obvious on her face. Lewis stammered, holding up a hand, “Wh-what I mean is-”
“Are you embarrassed of me?” Marnie warbled, feeling tears form in her eyes.
“Marnie, please-”
“NO, Lewis.” the woman stood up, lunging across the table to get closer to his face, “Why would telling people about us hurt your reputation? Why would I ruin your image?!”
The mayor tripped over his words, trying to find a way to say what he wanted without getting her angrier, “I just meant that people may look at me differently if I tell them about us! You understand, don’t you? The mayor of Pelican Town with a rancher? What would people say?”
“I don’t know, maybe they’ll say they’re happy for us? Maybe our friends will celebrate?” Marnie snapped, “Are you embarrassed about my job? I make a good and honest living, Lewis. I’ve carried my family’s farm on my back alone for decades!”
“And I’ve carried this entire town on mine!” he snapped back.
“Please, I know all about what you actually do: Nothing!” Marnie hissed, “Ever since you became mayor this town has gotten worse! The community center is gone, Joja is ruining the small businesses, the bus is still broken! The only reason anything gets done around here is because the new farmer is pitching in! That’s your job Lewis, not hers!”
Lewis stood from his seat, slamming the chair angrily into place, “How dare you. After all I’ve done for you and your family... If it weren’t for me inviting Joja to this town, your layabout of a nephew would be jobless and still in debt!”
“You don’t get to talk about him like that!” Marnie barked. As much as she got frustrated with Shane, she never tolerated anyone speaking ill of him, even Lewis, “I don’t want to ever hear you talk about my family that way again.”
Lewis threw his arms up in exasperation, “Where is this coming from?! You’ve never acted like this, this isn’t you.”
“Well maybe it is! You never let me talk about these things! I’m so tired of acting happy all the time, Lewis…” she paused to catch her breath, holding her head in her hands, “I’m tired of all of this. You get so upset with me when I try to talk about my problems. “Just focus on the positives!” , well maybe I don’t want to! Maybe I’m sad, an-and I need help, because I don’t know what to do anymore!”
She finally broke out into sobs, letting the sadness take over for the first time, “I’m the only one keeping my family together, Lew. If I were gone tomorrow, everything would fall apart. I can’t keep being the only person who has it together and I’m so tired of doing it by myself.”
“You aren’t doing it by yourself, you have me.”
“Do I?” Marnie snapped.
There was a tense silence for a moment, Lewis just staring at her with such shock. Marnie had never cried in front of him before, never spoken against him. He didn’t even know what to say. All Marnie wanted was for him to comfort her, for him to take her in his arms, to tell her he was there for her. She needed someone to finally let her be free.
“I’m sorry you feel like I’m such a terrible person.” Lewis’ voice dripped with contempt, “I’m trying Marnie, but you can’t just throw all of this onto me with no warning. That's not fair.”
Marnie looked up, staring at him with puffy, tear filled eyes. Did she just hear him correctly? Her face contorted to one of anger, arms falling to her side, hands balling into fists. How could he say that to her, like she was the one who was the problem. Lewis approached her, holding his arms out like he was ready for an embrace.
“But it will be okay, Marnie. I love you, I want to be with you.” he hugged her, but Marnie wouldn’t return it. She stood still as a statue in his arms, rage undeniable.
“I forgive you too, Marnie. Why don't we just try to talk about something nice, hmm?”
The rancher pushed Lewis away, staring at him in disbelief. She didn’t have the words to describe how betrayed she felt right now. Lewis had the audacity to look confused, as if he had no clue why she’d be so upset with him.
“I… I need to go.” she choked out, shaking her head slowly. Lewis groaned, “Marnie stop, we can still have a good night.”
“No.” she hissed, putting a hand on the front door handle, “I’m leaving.”
“Marnie!”
“What?!”
“Go through the kitchen window. I don’t want someone to see you and get ideas.”
Marnie opened the door, giving him one last look, one full of anger and exhaustion, “Goodbye, Lewis.”
She couldn’t be at the mayor's manor, she couldn’t be home, and she wouldn’t be able to handle the saloon. Marnie felt like she didn’t belong anywhere right now, and maybe she didn’t. She felt free, finally letting her feelings be known, but that freedom had a price, and that price was finding out how alone she really was. Lewis’ words and reaction stuck with her, infecting her mind and making it spin. She didn’t know who to trust anymore, the person she thought she could trust with her life completely broke her heart. Was she really that shameful? What was so wrong with her that she’d ruin his reputation? She stormed off into the mountains, the brisk autumn evening breeze frigid against her cheeks. She was thankful that she dressed warm.
The mountain lake was always beautiful at night. The valley didn’t have the light pollution of the city, meaning stars were visible as far as the eye could see, reflecting onto the water’s surface. Sitting under the oak by the lake’s edge on her own, she curled her knees close to her chest, letting herself cry once more. It was a quiet, mournful sob, a heart-wrenching symphony of every horrible thing that had piled up since Yoba knew how long. Marnie had tricked herself into believing she was happy for so long, using every distraction she could to block herself from seeing how terrible things were. They didn’t work anymore though.
“Fancy seeing you again.”
Marnie snapped her head up to see the source of the voice, finding herself once again staring face to face with the leader of the elusive Adventurers Guild. She wiped her tears, and sniffled, “Marlon? I’m sorry, I hope I’m not causing any trouble.”
The man sat next to her, shaking his head, “On the contrary. I don’t mind your company.” he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, holding it towards her, “Though, if you’re not in the mood for it, I can leave.”
Marnie scoffed, a bitter smile on her face, “Thanks. Not many people seem to care what I want around here.” she took the handkerchief, dabbing at the corners of her eyes, “It’s been… a terrible day.”
“Would… you like to talk about it?” Marlon asked awkwardly, “I know we’re not awfully close, but I’ve never been one to turn down a story.”
“Well..,” Marnie started, “My family is a mess, one of the chickens escaped, I broke an heirloom… and….” she buried her head in her knees, “And the man I thought I loved doesn’t love me...”
She began to cry again, not even caring that Marlon was watching. The adventurer sat quietly, nervously putting a hand on her shoulder as a quiet signal to let her know he was listening. The rancher sniffled and looked to him, “You must think I’m a baby for being this upset over it. There’s people dying in combat right now and here I am crying about this.”
“You’re not a baby.” Marlon affirmed, his voice gentle and genuine, “You wouldn’t say that about anyone else in your shoes, would you not?”
“Well… no.”
“Then why are you so hard on yourself?”
“Because I’m supposed to be the one who has everything together!” Marnie growled out, “Everyone always looks to me as someone to lean on. Lewis, Shane, Jas, everyone, they need me. I can’t sit here crying like this over one bad day. I have to be there for them.”
“But then who’s there for you?” Marlon questioned. It seemed to throw Marnie off, her expression just a bit surprised.
“No one, I suppose.” she mumbled, “I guess that’s a sacrifice I’ve accepted. It’s life, you know?”
“No, I don’t. You can’t just be out there on your own, lass. You need someone who cares for what you need and want.”
“I don’t even think I know what I want anymore... I don't want this but what can I do? My life’s already set out for me; not like I can change it.” Marnie mumbled.
“It’s never too late to make a change, to be happy.” Marlon stated, “There’s always time,”
The rancher laughed softly, “You think so?” Marlon nodded in response.
Looking up to the sky, Marines eyes softened, “Well... I always wanted to be an artist. I went to school for it actually, textile arts.”
“Is that so?” Marlon smiled, leaning back against the tree behind them, “You’re such a natural with animals, I didn’t take you for that type.”
“Ranching is nice, but it was never my dream. Trust me, I love the animals, but that was more my sister’s passion.” Marnie’s face grew solemn, “When… our parents passed, she took over the ranch so I could pursue my dream. I was doing so well, I had a good job in the city already lined up for once I was out.” she took a deep breath, “Mona died the year I graduated, left the business and Shane behind. We don’t really have anyone else, so I had to turn down the job and come home.”
She turned to face Marlon, surprised to see his normally solemn face full of pity. Shaking her head, she turned away, feeling almost embarrassed, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, I’m sorry. Mona’s just been on my mind recently and Lewis doesn’t like when I talk about it.”
“Lewis? Is that the man you were talking about earlier?” Marlon felt an odd twinge of jealousy in him, “I never thought you two were… on those terms.”
“Well not anymore!.... Maybe… I don’t know,” Marnie scoffed angrily, “Apparently dating a rancher would look bad on someone so important as our mayor. He tried making me climb out of his window because he was too embarrassed to have me seen leaving.”
“Why do you put up with this?”
“Well why do you ask so many questions?”
“I… don’t know.”
“I guess I don’t know either.”
The two sat in silence for a moment, neither certain how to continue the conversation. Marlon had gone from knowing little about Marnie to knowing what she had barely discussed with her own lover within a night. He never knew there was so much to her, their conversations at festivals never piercing past the surface of small talk. But now, all he wanted was to be closer to her.
“I think you should try pursuing your dream. again” he finally said, staring off towards the lake, “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
Marnie shook her head, “Oh, I couldn’t leave the animals behind, or the business. It’s been in my family so long… And my nephew, bless his soul, he’s not ready for that responsibility. He won't admit it, but I see how his eyes light up when he does work around the ranch... Still, I know he’d have a hard time on his own. I’d be selfish to leave.”
“Then teach him how to do it and follow your own dream. Don’t you think you deserve to be a little selfish? Even once?”
Marnie chuckled, shaking her head, “It’s a bit too late for that, don’t you think?”
“No… Better to follow your dreams late than to let them die.” he let out a laugh, “Hell, Gil and I didn’t even start adventuring until we started going gray ourselves. As long as you’re still in this world, you have time.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” Marnie questioned. It was almost suspicious how kind he was being. She wasn’t used to this, “What do you get out of this?”
“Nothing. I just want to be nice to you.”
A strange feeling came over her, almost a feeling of... love? It was true, she didn’t know Marlon that well. Besides the short conversations they had every once in a while, he was a mystery to her. But he was kind to her without any expectations in return, and he spoke to her like she was a person. He didn’t shy away when she showed emotion or encourage her to ‘just be happy’. It was nice. He was a good man, a kind man. With him, she felt seen in a way she never did with Lewis.
Slowly, she leaned her head against his shoulder, the poor man feeling his heart beat out of his chest. He had always loved Marnie from afar, but never spoke more than a few words to her before tonight. And now, she was confiding in him as if they had been close friends all their lives, sitting with him while they looked at the stars. He felt like the luckiest man in Pelican Town. They basked in the comfortable silence between them, Marlon slowly sliding his hand along the ground to reach Marnie’s. Feeling his touch, she moved to meet him as well, interlocking their fingers. It was just them, the lake, and the stars. No one else existed to them in the moment, and for once today, Marnie was truly at peace.
“You look beautiful tonight, you know,” Marlon finally admitted. Marnie lifted her head from his shoulder, looking at him with surprise. A tint of blush crept up the guildmaster’s face,” You always do...”
“Marlon…”
“Please, let me finish.” Marlon clasped her hand between his, squeezing gently as he looked at her with longing, “Marnie… I don’t care for many of the festivals in this town, but I always go for a chance just to see you. I make up reasons to go into town, since there’s a chance I may be able to say hello. You are the most beautiful woman in this town, this world, and anyone would be so lucky to have you in their life.”
He paused, waiting for a moment to see her reaction. He half expected her to run off, finding his confession offputting. But she didn’t. She just stared at him, the same longing in her eyes, silently begging him to continue.
“You deserve to have someone that looks out for you. I want to be that someone and I’ve wanted it for so long... I need you to know that. I apologize if it’s made you uncomfortable.”
“...Quite the opposite, really,” Marnie whispered, leaning in closer, “I think I’d like to know you better, Marlon.”
“As do I,”
Closing their eyes, they moved forward, lips gently pressing against each other. Marnie felt something now she had never felt with Lewis, a feeling she couldn’t exactly place. There was always the thrill of secrecy with the mayor, the feeling of the forbidden that made the adrenaline flow when they kissed. But Marlon made her feel safe. Being with him in this moment was soothing, warm. Her heart was racing, but for entirely different reasons now, good reasons.
The pair pulled back, unable to look each other in the eye from how flustered they had gotten. Marnie toyed with her hair, rubbing strands between her fingers nervously, “Can I see you again tomorrow?”
Marlon cupped a hand to her face, brushing his thumb against her cheek, “You are always welcome at the guild… Stop by at 7 tomorrow night.”
“It’s a date,” Marnie smiled. She stood up, brushing stray grass and leaves from her skirt, “I have a long walk home, I should get going.”
“I can come with you,” Marlon offered, “The mountains get dangerous at night, all sorts of creatures crawling out of the mines looking for a poor soul to follow.”
Marnie gave him a playful jab in the side, “Oh stop it, you’re not scaring me… a walk home does sound nice, though.”
Marlon smiled, holding out a bent arm for her to hold onto, leading her down the mountain. The feeling of the unknown that had been around them for so long was gone. They knew each other for such little time, but Marnie felt like she could tell him anything, as did Marlon. He told her all about his escapades in the mines, the monsters he faced and wild tall tales of his brushes with death down in those depths. She wasn’t sure how much of it was true or a legend, but she was entirely enthralled. The cadence of his storytelling voice, the excitement with which he spoke, it made her feel alive in a way that she never felt alive before. She’d grown so used to the same old stories; weeding the garden, standing in town square, visiting the local businesses. There was nothing wrong with a simple life, but this is what she wanted, no, needed more than anything. She needed someone who could excite and surprise her, and someone who listened.
It was near midnight by the time they reached the ranch. The moon was at its peak over the mountaintops, soft sounds of crickets chirping in the bushes. The lamp next to the door was lit, the soft yellow glow encircling the pair in angelic light as they said their goodbyes.
“I’m glad you found me again.” Marnie mused, taking his hands in hers, “Thank you, for everything.”
“Anything for you,” he responded, giving her hand a gentle kiss, “Have a goodnight, Marnie.”
The two parted ways, Marnie stepping softly through the door of her home, shutting it softly as to not wake Jas. The overhead lights in the foyer were on, buzzing softly. It initially frustrated her. Shane always forgot to turn them off before going to sleep, making for an expensive electric bill, and she wasn’t exactly made of money. But something caught her eye. The curio cabinet was polished and cleaned to near perfection, as was the once dusty floor. The glass shards that she had left behind were nowhere to be seen, only her own shiny reflection.
But most importantly was what was inside the cabinet. The middle shelf had been properly fixed, a support anchor screwed in beneath it. On top was Mona’s music box, glued together the best it could be. There were little gaps here and there, chips on the paint, but it was whole again. She gently picked it up, rubbing her thumb over the name on the pedestal. A little piece of paper, a note, sat next to it. Scrawly letters in Shane’s handwriting were scribbled on the front in pencil. She picked it up, squinting to read :
“I’m sorry about the mess I caused. It’s not fair to you. You’ve done a lot for me and Jas and I wanted to show I actually appreciate it. It’s not perfect, but we tried to get it fixed up.
I know I screwed up today. I’ve screwed up a lot recently. But I want to be better for you and Jas, and I hope you can forgive me for everything.
-Shane”
Marnie looked to the direction of her nephew's room, smiling softly. It was gestures like these that reminded her of just how sweet he was. Shane wasn’t all that different from her really, and she understood just how easy it was to fall into the habits and behaviors he had picked up. She tried to be patient, give him the time and support he needed, the same that she needed when she was in his place 27 years ago. It was taking time to get back to normal, or something close to it, but these moments made her feel like things could be okay again.
Marnie gently placed the note on her shop counter, making her way into her bedroom with a small smile on her face. She turned on her nightstand lamp, sitting down on the old bed that sat flush against the wall. She pulled Marlon’s handkerchief from her pocket, rubbing a thumb over the fabric. It was a simple little square with basic stitching around the edges, the fabric a faded robins-egg blue. It meant everything to her. The initially unassuming rag was a symbol of a great change in her life, a change she never saw coming.
The adventurer had given her a new lease on life, hope that despite her situation, she could still continue to do more. Marnie could be more than just the little rancher in Cindersap forest, more than what was expected of her in this life. Lewis never made her feel this way, and she was beginning to wonder what she ever saw in that man to begin with. Perhaps it was out of desperation, out of a desire for anyone to even look her way and consider her desirable, no matter how they treated her. The bar was pitifully low, but Marlon had raised it to the stars in just one night. She could actually imagine the future she wanted with him, Lewis’ face fading from those visions. Holding hands as they strolled in town, waltzing together at the Flower Dance, and maybe even getting married. Today was a good day, she decided, just not in the way she ever expected.
She turned to look at the dial-up phone on her dresser. She had made an important decision, and it was time to let it be known. Picking up the receiver, she dialed in Lewis’ number, waiting anxiously for a response. She half hoped he’d pick up so she could hear his reaction in real time, but mostly prayed that he was asleep. Ring after ring droned out, until a prompt to leave a message started. Taking a deep breath, she spoke softly, yet firmly into the receiver.
“We’re done.”
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tangledspice075 · 2 years
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Stab, duck out of range, repeat.
It's alarming how easy it is to fall back on the old tactics. Of course, Polites thought 10 years of war would do that to a person. 
Following Odysseus's orders, he struck the heels and moved out of range, circling until the cyclops let down his guard again.
He doesn't like fighting. He doesn't think he ever would. But someone has to fight the war for the people who can't. Besides, he reassured himself he struck first. Even so, he mourns the life that must be shed.
The cyclops roared in pain, so loud that Polites heard it over the shouts of the men, and for one flitting moment, Polites feared the ceiling would fall. Suddenly the cyclops had its club in its hands. And it was coming straight. for. him.
Dimly he thinks he should run. Do something. Move! But his muscles wouldn't give.
He thinks he sees someone running towards him from the corner of his eye, but all he can do is stare at the club as it sinks closer and closer towards him.
Right as it was right on top of him, he felt someone push him out of the way. Skidding away from the club and on the floor, with a CRACK, the club fell. 
Suddenly he was a child, wide-eyed and staring as a boar charged closer and closer. And just like now, he was pushed out of the way. Polities saw Odysseus push him out of harms way as the boar's tusk grazed Odysseus's leg. 
Swiftly like a bolt of lightning, he had a feeling who pushed him out of the way.
No.
He scrambled up to his feet and ran over to the body.
NonononononoNO
“Captain…?”
There on the ground was the broken body of Odysseus. 
His captain.
His friend.
Dead.
He dropped to his knees, fumbling for a pulse, checking his breathing, anything.
Nothing.
He doesn't know what happened in the next few minutes, staring at Odysseus's body in shock.
He was only roused when Eurylochus moved towards him, shaking his shoulder firmly but gently.
"Is the captain...?"
"Dead."
His voice rang hollow to his ears, and Eurylochus gave him a look of solemn sorrow.
Not wanting to look him in the face, he looked around the cavern and wished he hadn't.
Odysseus was not the only casualty brought on by the cyclops. From a glance around the cavern, he saw at least a dozen men not moving, lying in a puddle of blood. 
The cyclops was lying flat on the floor, not dead, as his first glance told him, his chest rising and falling.
Polities stumbled to stand, and Eurylochus offered him his arm to stabilize. Not wanting to fall, he leaned on his arm.
Limping over to the cyclops, he and Eurylochus joined the still-standing men.
"We don't know what happened. he was standing one second and the next…" a man said, Polities not recognizing his face.
He stepped forward and took a quick inspection. The cyclops looks asleep, his breaths slow and deep. But something is off. It looks familiar... 
"Captain… must have put lotus in the wine."
Where is the captain?” A voice from the crowd asked.
There was a pause of silence. It said the answer far better than words could.
Polities saw the shock and confusion ripple through the crowd and the despair that soon followed.
Knowing he had to change the subject, he asked, “How are we going to escape? We can’t kill the cyclops, or we will be trapped inside.”
“And what shall we do with our fallen friends?” Asked another voice from the crowds.
Eurylochus, whilst ordering everyone to scout around the cave, replied, “we shall have to leave them here.”
Polites spun around in shock. 
“Leave our friends here!? The least we can do is give them a proper burial!”
“Carrying the bodies will slow us down,”
“So we leave them here to rot!?”
“We will likely have to retreat onto the boats and set sail as fast as possible. There is no room on the boats for bodies and no time for us to bury them.”
Knowing he is correct yet still refusing to leave them, polities stomped off.
Eurylochus watched as he lugged the bodies together and whisked around looking for something. Soon he had long sticks stacked in a cone shape. Swiftly he knew what he was making. A funeral pyre.
Looking around the cavern, he decided he could spare a few men.
Just as Polites was trying to light the pyre, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Jumping in shock, he turned around he saw a trio of men standing behind him.
"Eurylochus sent us to help." said the one who put his hand on his shoulder.
Polites looked over at where Eurylochus was. He was standing with his back firmly towards Polites, ordering the men to sharpen the cyclops' club.
Even during all of this, he smiled. Not as big as his other ones, just a small, fond one. But a smile nonetheless.
. . .
Looking at the pyre burning with the smoke drifting to the top of the ceiling, he felt a pang of sadness. Odysseus is dead. Ithica has lost its king, Penelope has lost her husband, Telemachus has lost his dad, who he didn't even get to know or meet. He had lost his friend. And the world doesn't even know of his death.
He looked down at the sword in his hands. Odysseus sword. He grips it tightly, and then, right there, he makes a promise. He would not let Odysseus go to the underworld with regrets. He would make it back home and tell Telemachus of his dad, so many stories that he would feel like he has known him all his life. He would make it back and tell Penelope the terrible news and offer the comfort he knows she will need. He would make it back home.
Behind him, Eurylochus walked up to him till they were side to side. They stood there for a moment, watching the pyre flicker and burn.
Then in unison, they turned and walked back to the crowd of men with the club now sharpened into a spear.
They would remember them.
And behind them, the flames of those who've gone burned.
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jackassbrainrot · 2 months
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it's just the way things are
desc: (self)destructive tendencies of a young star
a/n: just some bam angst, purely self indulgent projection
warnings: angst, drinking, violence, bam's pov
It's a routine we've gotten into since we started filming. Tremaine will call it a wrap for the day and another voice will follow, Knoxville's or Weeman's or whoever else's, saying we should go out. I always agree, it's just the way things are.
A restaurant or a bar, it doesn't matter, we'll be shitfaced by the end of the night. It's not like we plan to, it just happens. A beer or two turn into bodyshots off some random wannabe actress with fake tits and an even faker personality. I don't mind, it's just the way things are.
Everyone knows I'm a nasty drunk. I'll throw insults thinly veiled as jokes at anyone who talk to me, waiting for someone to get mad, to hit me, to give me an excuse to hit back harder. Punches, glasses and bottles fly around the bar, it's just the way things are.
Since I've met you, people have said I've gotten out of control, that I've become worse than I've ever been. Why should I care? I'm young, rich and famous, who the fuck are they? This is what Hollywood is all about, right? It's just the way things are.
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qqueenofhades · 2 years
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Also on a quick programming note: I still have several AO3 invitations if anyone needs one, but just to let you know that when I do post the 20th and last (!) chapter of AITWW, as I am hoping to do this weekend, I will go ahead and unlock that one. I want to make sure everyone can read the ending and don't have to miss out just because Elon Musk is a turd in person shape.
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spodokaiba · 2 years
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what if i wrote a g witch fantasy au where suletta is from the middle of nowhere and miorine is an actual straight up princess and aerial is a sentient magic sword that can form armor and a shield and shit
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I can’t believe I started this blog with the intent of writing fnaf stuff only to become obsessed with big iron
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valoisfulcanellideux · 5 months
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About the AO3 "No Guest Comments for a while" warning
If you're not following any of AO3's social media accounts you might be in the dark as to what kind of "spam comments" have engendered this banner at the top of the site:
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These spam comments have been posted about a great deal on the AO3 subreddit for the past couple of days. Initially they comprised a bunch of guest (logged out users) bot comments that insulted authors by suggesting they were using AI and not writing their own fics. Some examples, from the subreddit:
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But it then escalated to outright graphic porn images and gifs being posted in comments, again by logged out 'Guest' accounts. Obviously, I'm not going to give examples of those, but between these two bot infestations, AO3 has clearly decided to act and has temporarily closed the ability to post comments for users who are not logged in with an AO3 account.
Unfortunately, this means that genuine readers who don't have an AO3 account won't be able to leave comments on fics that they enjoy.
If you are a genuine reader who doesn't yet have an AO3 account, I strongly suggest getting yourself on the waiting list for one. More and more AO3 authors are now locking their fics down to registered users only - either due to these bot comments or concerns about AI scraping their work - which means you're probably missing out on a lot of great stuff.
Hopefully guest commenting will be enabled again at some point soon, but I suggest not waiting until then. Get yourself on that list.
Wait times are going to be longer than usual at the moment, due to the current Wattpad purge [info on Fanlore | Wattpad subreddit thread], but if you're in line, then your invite will come through eventually.
Update: There's now a Megathread about this on the AO3 subreddit.
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i’m like exceedingly aware that my screenshot posting and OC posting is probably quite annoying. however if I can’t be cringe and free on my own blog where can I be?? i am embracing the joy and whimsy
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reiderwriter · 1 year
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More Than Words
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader
Requested: yes
Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.
Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.
A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.
You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!
Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”
It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.
“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.
“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.
“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.
“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”
“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”
You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.
“Promise you won’t tell?”
“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.
“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.
“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”
“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.
“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”
“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.
“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.
“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.
–X–
Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.
At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.
“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.
“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.
“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.
“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”
“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.
“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.
“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”
“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”
“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.
“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.
“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.
“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.
“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”
“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.
“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.
“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”
With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.
“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”
–X–
The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.
“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.
“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.
“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”
“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.
“What was our first date?” He asked.
“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”
“What else have we done together?”
“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”
“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.
You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.
“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”
He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.
“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.
“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.
“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”
“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.
You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.
But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.
“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.
The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.
“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”
“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.
“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”
“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”
“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.
“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”
“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.
“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.
“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.
“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.
“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”
Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.
“Mom, how did you know…”
“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,
“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.
–X–
The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.
Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.
What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?
So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.
“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.
You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.
“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.
“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.
You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.
“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.
“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.
He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”
“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.
An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.
“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.
“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.
“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.
“I don’t pick my nails!”
“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.
“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”
“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”
“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.
“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.
“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.
“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”
“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”
“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.
“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”
“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.
“And whose fault is that?”
“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”
“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.
“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”
“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”
“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.
“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”
“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.
“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.
“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.
“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.
“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”
“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”
“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.
–X–
“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.
“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.
“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.
“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.
You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.
“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.
“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”
You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.
“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.
“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.
“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.
“Spence, what’s wrong?”
“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”
“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.
“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.
“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.
“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.
“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.
“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.
“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.
“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.
“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.
“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.
–X–
You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.
To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.
“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.
“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.
“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.
“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.
“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.
“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.
“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.
His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.
“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”
“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.
–X–
The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.
You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.
So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.
You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.
You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.
You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.
“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.
“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.
“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.
“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.
“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.
“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.
“How’d you figure it out?”
“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”
“Three.”
“Three what?”
“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.
“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.
“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”
“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”
“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”
You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.
“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.
You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.
“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.
“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.
“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.
You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.
“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.
“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”
Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.
“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.
“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.
“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.
“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.
“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.
“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”
“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.
“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.
“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.
“Yes?”
“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.
But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.
“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.
“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.
He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.
“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.
“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.
He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.
“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.
“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.
“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.
It never did.
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quin-ns · 2 years
Text
Sleeping Bag (Joel Miller x Reader)
Word count: 1.7K
Summary: you can’t get comfortable in your sleeping bag, so joel invites you into his
Tags: age gap (mostly implied), anxiety, fluff, protective/caring!joel, comfort, cuddling, sharing a sleeping bag (instead of the one bed trope lol), kissing (forehead and lips), it’s just cute short and fun
A/N: simple and quick, inspired by ep 4 when joel and ellie were in sleeping bags in the woods, but no explicit spoilers. I’ve been wanting to write for joel since episode one and finally got an idea. pretty sure more will be coming soon…
Cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • writing masterlist
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After sleeping in a bed in the QZ’s for years, suddenly trying to get comfortable in a sleeping bag on the ground was proving difficult for you.
What a spoiled thought to have, right? Well, it wasn’t just that. You were out in the open woods. There could be infected anywhere. They could come for you any second. How could you close your eyes and rest peacefully knowing you were no longer behind the barrier walls?
Ellie was already asleep, you could hear her light snores. Your back was facing him, but you assumed Joel was asleep as well given his stillness. You rolled from your side to your back and sighed.
You had to sleep. You should’ve been tired. You and Joel had taken turns driving, although since you didn’t have much driving experience Joel became concerned when you began to struggle with the gear shift and mixed up the pedals (it only happened once but he couldn’t let it go). Joel had grown exhausted and didn’t want to stress you out by making you drive without him as backup/support, so you all stopped for the night. He was thoughtful like that; even if he was a bit grouchy sometimes.
You turned from your back to your other side, eyes landing on Joel. He was facing you, eyes closed, breathing steadily. The older man actually seemed to be at peace. He only looked like that when he was asleep. The moment he woke up, you knew he’d have that slight pout and furrow of his brows that you’d become accustomed to.
If Joel caught you staring, you wondered what he’d say. You could never pinpoint the way he viewed you. Friend? Daughter? Burden? You’d be way more okay with the previous two as long as it wasn’t the third. Although if you were being honest with yourself, you hoped it was none of the above.
Despite his age and his tough nature, you had a thing for Joel. Like, a thing. Feelings, attraction, affection—whatever you wanted to call it. Definitely a crush. Love? Maybe. It was a little bit confusing, but nothing in this life was simple.
Joel had taken you under his wing a while back and looked after you. He was incredibly protective and even if he wasn’t the best with expressing himself, Joel cared for you. He made you feel safe. He was there for you when you had no one else.
You rolled to your other side. Then back. Simply put, tossing and turning. The thought that you were being loud don’t even cross your mind until—
“What are you doing?” Joel’s voice caught your attention.
You let out a sigh, feeling bad that you’d woken the man up. You turned back to face him. “I can’t sleep,” you confessed.
“I can tell,” he murmured. “Do you plan on rolling around all night?”
You frowned to yourself. “I'm sorry.”
Joel exhaled softly and even in the dark, you could see the sympathy in those deep brown eyes of his. You hadn’t realized that subconsciously, you’d moved closer to him.
“It’s okay.” He had a soft spot for you, even though he’d probably deny it.
“I’ll try and be… still, I guess.” You knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep. “Just go back to sleep, I’ll be fine.” That was a lie.
“No,” he decided after a moment. You furrowed your brows. “You need sleep too.”
“I can’t get comfortable,” you replied. You let a few seconds pass before adding, “…and I’m too anxious.”
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Joel promised like if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that.
It meant a lot, it really did. But you huffed out a humorless laugh and went to a worse case scenario. “You’re all the way over there. If an infected wanted to get me, it could. Before you could stop it.”
Joel was quiet for a few beats. You hadn’t meant to insult him, but it was true. It didn’t matter how safe you felt with him there. They were faster than him. Faster than anyone.
“So then come over here,” Joel offered, voice still thick with sleep. It sounded incredibly enticing.
The image of you crawling into his sleeping bag crossed your mind faster than you could stop it. You had to do a double take. “Like… scoot over there?” you tried to clarify inconspicuously.
“If you’re against sharing with me.”
So, he had meant what you’d hoped for. Your heart skipped a little beat and you swallowed.
“I’m not.”
All Joel did was hum. You unzipped your sleeping bag and left the warmth. Joel was ready and waiting when you moved over to him, enveloping you into the safety of his sleeping bag and heavy arms. You wiggled around a little bit until you got comfortable. For the first time since you’d left the QZ, it didn’t take long.
“Thank you,” you mumbled softly, trying to keep your breathing calm. Being so close to Joel was causing you to become less focused on sleep and more focused on the way his breath sounded so close to your ear.
“Mmhhmm,” he hummed from deep in his throat with closed lips. You thought it was going to be left at that, but then you heard his gruff voice. “I know it’s been hard on you.” You opened your mouth to deny it, but he continued. “Even if you’re too stubborn to admit it beyond makin’ snarky comments.”
You took in a breath. He got you on that one, and you both knew it. “Since when do you know me this well?”
“Since always,” Joel pointed out. “You’re easy to read.”
“For you maybe.”
“Yeah, for me,” he agreed, sounding pleased with himself. Joel was silent for a long moment, listening to the soft rustle of your body as you gazed around your surroundings. The grass, the trees, the darkness… “I’m sorry for being so selfish.”
The sudden apology confused you. “What?”
“You’ve never been outside of the QZ before, and for good reason,” Joel started. “It’s a scary world out here and I shouldn’t have subjected you to it. I shouldn’t have brought you along.”
His voice was full of guilt that seemed to come out of nowhere, but given all he had to say you suspected he’d been carrying it since you left.
“I wanted to come with you,” you assured him. You never second guessed that decision despite everything that had happened so far. “Where is this coming from?”
“You’re scared and it’s my fault.” You could hear the deep frown in his voice.
“You’re the reason I feel safe right now,” you said without a second thought. It was true. You wanted him to know that. There was something you wanted to know too, now, and you couldn’t help but ask. “Do you not want me here?”
“I do,” Joel confessed. “That’s why I’m selfish.” There was a pause but you didn’t dare speak. “I didn’t want to be away from you.”
A wave of realization crashed over you.
You wiggled around, turning until you were facing him. You offered him a soft, delicate smile that you hoped he could see despite the dark.
“It almost sounds like you care about me. A lot,” you couldn’t help but tease.
“You know I care about you,” Joel stated, like it was the most obvious thing. Maybe he’d tried to cover it up in the past, but someone would have to be blind to not see that you meant something to Joel.
“I care about you too,” you admitted with much more ease. He knew, though.
Joel, in an uncharacteristically soft gesture, pressed a kiss to your forehead. You could hardly believe it. But it felt nice. You liked the affection. And coming from someone like Joel who never let their guard down, it was significant enough to leave you speechless.
“It’s gonna be daylight soon,” he muttered. “You should try and get some sleep.”
“Yeah, okay,” you agreed with a slight nod. “Just… one more thing.” It took everything you had to be brave enough to say that, and to do what you were going to do next.
There was basically no space between the two of you, but you managed to bring your hand up to Joel’s face and cup his jaw. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
Joel didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. He took charge, but it wasn’t surprising. He had a dominating presence and was rough around the edges, you didn’t think he’d be delicate with you.
Not that you minded.
His lips moved against yours, almost in a frenzy. Like he was scared you’d slip away from him. It was so needy, so passionate. You wished you would’ve done this much, much sooner
Joel found the willpower to break away from the kiss before you. You would’ve happily lost consciousness in order to kiss him for just a few more moments. But then you’d worry him, and you hated to see Joel worry.
But you didn’t see worry when you looked into his eyes. You saw a hint of wonder. You were both staring into a new beginning as you gazed upon one another. He was panting a little, both of your soft breaths intertwining.
“You need sleep,” he reminded you.
Of course he still couldn’t drop the protector role. He wasn’t wrong about that, either. You smiled to yourself, the feel of his lips still ghosting yours despite the distance. You twisted in the sleeping bag without a word, knowing that you’d never be able to sleep facing Joel. You’d probably be too busy staring at him…
So yeah, you laid with your back to his chest and closed your eyes. His arms held you tight against his firm body. Not only providing warmth, but security as well.
“Goodnight,” Joel mumbled to you, already dozing back off. You could hear the soft smile in his voice despite the tiredness. It seemed easier for him to sleep wherever, although you liked to think you were bringing him some kind of comfort as well. With the way he held you against him it wouldn’t be an unrealistic thought.
“Goodnight, Joel,” you replied softly, finally able to relax your breathing. The feel of Joel’s body pressed against you, his strong arms around you—it felt like a dream. Safe and sound, away from the dangers that lie not far off. And soon enough, you were finally able to close your eyes and fall into a peaceful sleep.
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crazyforboys · 16 days
Text
i. the first encounter
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pairing aemond targaryen x fem!reader genre best friends brother, summer home, modern au, eventual smut, secret relationship, college students
you marvel at the targaryen summer home and find yourself intrigued by helaena's mysterious brother, aemond.
warnings for this chapter. a bit of rhaenyra slander (i love her this is just a fic). aemond talks once lol. mother alicent! targaryen girls suspect alicent and criston are hooking up (they are). reader and aemie share a bathroom smirks. aemond lore unlocked. SHORT HAIR AEMOND RAHHH. aemond does not wear an eyepatch here sorry. not much for this one sorry, it will get better trust me!
word count. 3,172
SERIES MASTERLIST 𖤐 KO-FI 𖤐 CROSS-POSTED TO AO3
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With Helaena Targaryen as your roommate, your first year of university flew by. She was like a burst of caffeine when you were feeling drained — her presence was as noticeable as the moon in the night sky, shining brighter than all the stars. Helaena’s easy going nature made her an instant friend, and her keen awareness of her surroundings meant she could read you well. Knowing you lacked the courage to make other friends (just as she did), she had no trouble inviting you to join her friends Baela and Rhaena — who you later discovered were actually her cousins (by discovered you mean you suspected they were because of the violet eyes and the silver hair). Although their family connection initially intimidated you, they never made you feel like an outsider.
As summer drew to a close, you dreaded the approaching end of your break. Other summers, most of your time off was spent indoors, lying in bed and binge-watching one series after another. Your parents weren’t neglectful, but they were far from attentive. As a result, you didn't share the same excitement for summer as everyone else.
Helaena soon noticed that you seemed upset. Her instincts were as sharp as they were uncanny — despite your efforts to mask your mood, she saw right through it. When she asked what was bothering you, you hesitated to explain how dull your summer had been, fearing you might come across as a snob. However, Helaena was persistent and wouldn’t let the matter drop until she got to the bottom of it.
You confided in Helaena about how you felt, not expecting her to do anything about it. You knew that even if you stayed in the dorm over the summer, she would still have to go home, making your situation no different from returning to your own place. Your year at university had been made wonderful not by the academic experience, but by Helaena and her cousins, Baela and Rhaena.
To you, the Targaryens were like heaven on earth. So when they offered to take you home with them for the summer, it felt like a dream come true, as if angels were granting your wish.
Kings Landing, where their summer house was located, was only about an hour from the university, so the train was a convenient option since none of you had a car. You took the window seat — essential for you, as you couldn’t bear to be in a vehicle without gazing outside. Helaena sat beside you, with a throw blanket spread over both your laps while she embroidered on her stitch sampler. Baela sat in front of you, nose deep in a book, and Rhaena sat beside her, headphones on and brows furrowed as she sketched doodles in her sketchbook.
“Okay,” Helaena announces, drawing your and Baela’s attention. Rhaena, too engrossed in her music, was oblivious to the conversation. You couldn’t help but think she might end up deaf by thirty with the volume she had on. Baela nudged her twin to get her attention, and Helaena continued. “Before we get there, we just want you to know that our family isn’t like most families… rather—”
“Dysfunctional?” Rhaena interjects. “Chaotic? Oh, oh, problematic! Did I mention dysfunctional?”
It was clear that the three girls had mixed feelings about their family and its dynamics. You couldn’t help but wonder why they were heading back home for the summer if they felt this way. You hoped they were just being dramatic and that it wasn’t as bad as they made it seem. However, their reactions whenever they talked about their family suggested otherwise.
“Well, yes, but perhaps we should tell her about everyone,” Helaena suggests. “The good things, of course.”
“What good thi–oof!”
Baela interrupts Rhaena with a shove to her side. Rhaena winces and rubs her side while pouting at her sister.
“There’s Alicent, Hel’s mother,” Baela begins.
“Although, we suspect she’s sleeping with Cole, the butler.” Helaena whispers, as if anyone who shouldn’t know this is around. Baela and Rhaena nod in agreement, humming their assent.
Your jaw drops. It seemed that the Targaryen family might indeed be as chaotic as they’d hinted.
“Um, then there’s my brother Aegon,” Helaena continues. “He has a tendency to flirt with anything that has a vagina, so if he makes you uncomfortable, let us know and we’ll deal with him.”
“Oh! Tell her about Aemond!” Rhaena chimes in eagerly.
“You talk about Aemond as if he’s a scary story time character.” Baela says.
“He is a scary story time character. Have you ever been in a room alone with him? Even his silence scares me.”
“Who is Aemond?” you ask, curiously.
“One of my brothers,” Helaena answers. “He’s just… different.”
“As in?” you prompt, encouraging her to elaborate.
“As in he's scary and a bit weird.” Rhaena interjects, earning another nudge from Baela.
“He just keeps to himself.” Helaena says in nicer words. “When we were kids, our nephew Jace and him got into a pretty serious fight. They were pushing and punching, and Jace’s brother, Luke, stepped in. He ended up taking Aemond’s eye out with a rock. Luke was just protecting his brother; they were all kids at the time. My sister never apologized for her sons doing. But Aemond could never forgive them even if she did. Losing his eye has caused him much more pain than any of us will ever know.”
“Things just get awkward when the boys and their mother, Rhaenyra, come around.” Baela adds. “Especially between Alicent and her.”
“She still comes by?” you ask.
“Yep,” Rhaena confirms. “She’s her fathers favorite.”
Helaena stiffens at that, head hanging low.
Gods, this family had much more layers than you initially realized.
Rhaenyra sounded like the main root of the family chaos. It was appalling for her son to take out her brother's eye, even if it was an accident. Whether or not Aemond would forgive Luke for what he did, losing his eye would cause him pain eternally, surely there would always be some sort of resentment towards the boy. And with Rhaenyra being her father’s favorite, it was understandable that Helaena — and possibly her brothers — might have complicated feelings about it.
The conversation tapered off, and everyone returned to their activities for the rest of the train ride. Yet, you could sense a subtle shift in Helaena beside you, a quiet tension that hadn’t been there before.
Once the train arrived in Kings Landing, you grabbed your bags and followed the Targaryen girls through the crowded platform. They were scanning the sea of faces, struggling to locate who they were looking for. Somehow, they spotted the person — a quite attractive man with dark, long curly locks and facial hair. You only realized they did when Rhaena grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you along with them.
It wasn’t until Baela referred to him as ‘Cole’ did you register that this was the Targaryen butler. And you wouldn’t say it out loud but you did not blame Helaena’s mother if she was actually hooking up with him. Just saying. Apparently, Alicent ordered Cole to drive to the train station and pick you four up. Now, you don’t know if the speculations are true, but whatever kind of leash Alicent has around Cole’s neck, you might need.
The drive to the Targaryen summer home was captivating, especially since you had never been to Kings Landing before. You gazed out the window in awe, hardly paying attention to the conversations inside the car. The city was vibrant and bustling compared to your hometown. The streets were teeming with activity, the people seemed more alive, and the sun shone more brightly with a bluer sky. As the Targaryen summer home came into view, you felt certain that this summer was going to be the best three months of your life.
When the Targaryen girls mentioned their summer home, you expected something modest. Instead, the mansion before you was far beyond your expectations. Tall gates encircled the estate, with even grander gates marking the entrance. As Cole confirmed his identity, the gates swung open like doors, and as he drove inside, you felt like a child discovering a toy store.
In the front yard, a majestic water fountain stood with a dragon statue perched on top, adding to the surprise. The Targaryen girls had never hinted at their family's immense wealth, making this sight even more astonishing.
As Cole drove around the fountain, you spotted a woman with red hair in a green dress standing near the front doors, with guards positioned in front of them. Her face lit up with a warm smile as Helaena stepped out of the car, her arms outstretched, clearly eager to embrace her daughter.
“Oh, my sweet,” she said, her voice filled with emotion as she hugged Helaena longingly. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, Mum,” Helaena mumbled into her mother’s shoulder, clinging to her waist as if afraid to let go.
You were surprised by how young Helaena’s mother looked, especially for someone with three children (as far as you knew). There wasn’t a wrinkle in sight, and her skin was practically flawless. If you hadn’t known better, Alicent could easily pass as Helaena’s sister. You watched as the two embraced, completely absorbed in each other, as though no one else existed. Throughout the months away from home, Helaena often expressed how much she missed her mother. You knew how close they were. On some nights, Helaena would cry, longing for the comfort of her mum after a long, stressful day. It pained you that you couldn’t do anything to help, but seeing them reunited now eased some of the guilt you felt for those nights.
Alicent finally pulls back, her eyes scanning Helaena from head to toe. Then she immediately bombards her with questions: “How’s university treating you? Have you been eating well? Are you drinking enough water?” 
Helaena chuckled softly, reassuring her mother over and over that she was fine until Alicent was finally convinced. Alicent’s large brown eyes then shifted to you, acknowledging your presence for the first time. Sensing the moment, Helaena took the opportunity to introduce you to her mother.
“Hello, Mrs. Targaryen. Thank you for letting me into your home.” you say softly.
“No worries, my dear. I’m glad Helaena and her sweet cousins could make you feel comfortable,” Alicent replies with a warm smile. “And please, call me Alicent.”
You smile back at her. Acknowledging the Targaryen twins, she greets and hugs them warmly. You were initially concerned that she might not be so welcoming — after all, who wants their child’s friend staying for an entire summer? Thankfully, she was charming, and her demeanor quickly put you at ease.
Her attention then shifted to Cole, who stood by the car with his arms behind his back and his eyes fixed on the ground. The atmosphere grew tense, and because of this, you realized the girls’ speculation about the two of them wasn’t just speculation — it was true. The four of you felt awkward; Cole looked clearly intimidated by her gaze, while Alicent showed no sign of discomfort.
“Ser Criston,” she called. His head lifted immediately. “If you would grab everyone’s bags from the car and take them inside.”
Obediently, he opened the trunk and began unloading the luggage.
“Come,” Alicent said to you. “I’ll show you to your room.”
Helaena, Baela, and Rhaena went off to help Cole with the luggage, while you followed Alicent. When you and Alicent walked up the stairs to the entrance, the big doors creaked as the guards opened them. As you stepped through the grand entrance, you were immediately struck by its opulence. The walls were a rich, deep green, adding a touch of elegance to the expansive space. A grand spiral staircase ascended gracefully to the upper levels, its intricate ironwork gleaming in the sunlight. The light poured in from the tall, arched windows, casting a warm, inviting glow across the room. Below, the checkered black-and-white floors added a striking contrast and a sense of timeless charm. Each detail, from the sweeping staircase to the delicate vases on the mantelpieces, seemed to whisper stories of luxury and history. Overwhelmed by the sheer beauty and grandeur, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe, marveling at the lavish surroundings that seemed straight out of a fairy tale.
Before you could vocally express how beautiful the home was, Alicent surprised you by linking her arm with yours, holding on tightly. Although it startled you at first, it didn’t make you uncomfortable. In fact, it was quite touching how Alicent welcomed her guests with such open warmth, treating you as if you were one of her own.
“I’m sure Helaena’s mentioned her brother, Aemond?” Alicent asks as she guides you toward the stairs.
“Yes,” you reply, focusing on your feet to avoid tripping on the steps.
“Good,” she says, her initial tension easing into a more relaxed tone. “He’s a good kid. Quite quiet, which some people mistake for rudeness, but he doesn’t mean any harm. And, well, the scar can be a bit intimidating for some. I hope you understand.”
“I do,” you nod. “I’m not one to judge someone so quickly.”
“That’s great,” Alicent replies with a soft hum. “Your room is directly across from his, so I wouldn’t want you to feel any sort of discomfort during your stay here. The bathroom is also connected to both rooms, so you’ll be sharing that. I would have put you in another room, but they’re all taken since Rhaenyra, Helaena’s half-sister, and her sons will be arriving tomorrow.”
“I really don’t mind, Mrs. Targaryen,” you assure her. “I’m just grateful for your hospitality.”
The corners of Alicent’s lips curl into a grateful smile, appreciating your understanding. She leads you down the hall and opens the door to reveal your room. The space exudes a serene and inviting charm. Much like the foyer, the walls are painted the same shade of green. At the center of the room is a bed with crisp, plain white sheets, its simplicity adding a touch of understated elegance. The walls are adorned with a selection of paintings, each frame carefully chosen to complement the room’s color scheme and add visual interest. A bookshelf in one corner is decorated with faux vines that drape playfully over its edges, enhancing the room's cozy, natural feel. Next to the bookshelf, a plush reading chair invites relaxation, perfectly positioned for enjoying a good book. The polished wood floors gleam with a warm luster, reflecting the soft light and contributing to the room’s overall sense of calm and refinement. It felt surreal that you would be living here for a few months.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Alicent says. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”
You thank her again as she leaves, still processing the luxury of your surroundings. Helaena enters the room and notices the stunned look on your face.
“You alright?” she asks, a hint of amusement in her voice.
“When were you going to tell me how filthy rich your family is?” you exclaim, trying to wrap your head around the splendor of it all.
Helaena merely shrugs her shoulders, a nonchalant smile on her lips. “It never came up.”
You chuckle, shaking your head in disbelief. As you start unpacking and settling in, Helaena continues to chat casually, easing you into the rhythm of life at the mansion. Suddenly, the door across from yours opens, revealing a tall man. His short silver hair has a few strands falling across his forehead, and he’s dressed entirely in black — a black polo shirt, black slacks, and black dress shoes. You notice a long scar running from his forehead down to his cheek. One of his eyes is violet, while the other is blue, clearly a prosthetic replacing the eye his nephew had taken. This was the infamous Aemond everyone kept telling you about.
Helaena smiled warmly as she gestured toward her brother to come into the room. She introduced your name to him as Aemond glanced briefly in your direction, his violet eye meeting yours for a moment. You gave him a soft smile before he gave a slight nod. Without a word, he let out a noncommittal hum and turned, his black-clad figure moving with a casual grace as he walked down the hallway.
"Well," you say, "he's not one for conversation, is he?"
"He means no harm," Helaena replies. "He’s just a very reserved person. He’ll warm up to you once he gets to know you. Meet me downstairs once you’re done packing."
As she leaves, you take in the elegant surroundings of your new room, a sense of unease creeps in knowing that you and Aemond will be living in such close quarters. You’re determined to avoid any awkwardness between you, especially given the high stakes of this arrangement. Striving to maintain a cordial and comfortable atmosphere, you remind yourself to be friendly and open, hoping to navigate this delicate situation with grace. The last thing you want is for any tension to overshadow the peace of this lovely setting.
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The rest of the day passed quickly.
After finishing unpacking your clothes into the dresser, you went downstairs. The three Targaryen girls gave you a thorough tour of their home, and by the time you completed the tour, dinner was ready. The four of you, Alicent, and Aemond all gathered for the meal. Aegon had arrived the previous day but was out with friends for drinks, while their father, Viserys, was resting upstairs. You hadn’t met him yet, but Rhaena mentioned that he was much older than Alicent and wasn’t doing well health wise.
Dinner was pleasant. Alicent was lively, engaging in conversation with everyone, while Aemond remained quiet, seemingly content to linger in the background and enjoy the meal in silence. Still, you noticed him stealing glances at you, and once, when your eyes met, you expected him to look away. But he didn’t. His gaze held yours, steady and intense, until you, unnerved, were the one to break it.
After dinner, everyone retreated to their rooms. As you gathered clothes for a shower, you heard a door creak open behind you. Assuming it was one of the Targaryen girls, you didn’t turn around.
“I’m going to shower,” a soft, yet distinctly masculine voice spoke.
That's when you turned around, seeing Aemond standing in the doorway of your shared bathroom. The sound of his voice, so rarely heard in conversation, and his presence, caught you off guard.
“Oh—um, okay,” you stammered, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’ll just wait until you’re done.”
Aemond gave a small hum, much like the one he'd given earlier when Helaena introduced you, then quietly shut the door. Moments later, the sound of running water filled the silence, and you exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.
This summer was certainly going to be interesting.
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426 notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 3 months
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An Archon's Fated One
Pairing: Zhongli x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, failed arranged marriage, running away, love confession, loss of virginity, kissing, mating bite, protectiveness, creampie, tail shenanigans, Rex Lapis!Zhongli
Word count: 1.5k
Ao3
A/N: Come get your dragonfucking smut!
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You knew from the start that the arranged marriage wouldn't work out. Your so called husband was an abusive, entitled asshole, besides your heart already belonged to someone else. It has for a very long time. He was the only one you loved, the man you ran to for safety and comfort, Rex Lapis, Morax, or as you knew him, Zhongli.
The door to his home opened as soon as you approached, he senses you, moreover he sensed your distress. "Ah, I didn't mean to frighten you. When I felt you approach I... your... your wrists... your neck... what?" His eyes widened in horror as he took you in. You must have looked pretty pathetic to him, crying and cowering by his side as he ushered you inside, placing his hooded coat over you, unmindful of his own half-nakedness.
He didn't push you for answers, he ordered for a bath to be ready for you, and any change of clothes you wished. When you walked beside him you could feel his thick tail caressing your lower back and your legs. No hands. Not until you told him it was okay to do so.
Would he think you even weaker if he knew? You were human so you already paled in comparison to a god. You knew that even if he shared your feelings your relationship would never last. Zhongli opened the door for you to show you into the bedroom you normally stayed at when you spent the nights at his place. He never crossed the line of sleeping with you, he never even kissed you, the most you got out of him were late night cuddles and breakfast.
No wonder your husband was jealous. You spent more time with here then with him. Doesn't change the fact that you never wanted to marry him in the first place. Or what he did to you.
"Wait." You called out, hands touching Zhongli's tail, "Please don't go. I'm... scared of being alone tonight."
Zhongli turned to face you and let his hands hover over your shoulders, still waiting for your signal. After you gave him a nod you felt his warmth, his arms pull you into a hug, against his chest, felt exactly where his arm markings stopped, and when you hugged him back felt where his dragon trail began as your hands rested on the small of his back.
The bed was just as soft as always, like what you imagined sleeping on a cloud might feel like. The only sturdiness was Zhongli himself. "He did this, am I correct?" Your tremble of fear was confirmation enough. Zhongli snarled, his eyes flashing bring yellow for a moment before he took a deep breath of your scent to calm down. "I should have sensed it. I should have been there. I am so sorry darling."
You snuggled deeper into his arms, taking in his comforting words and petname, "I told him I wanted a divorce, that... there was someone else." His arms slackened slightly, but you kept going, "I told him I loved an Archon and he laughed at first. Then I told him... that it was you. He... accused me of cheating on him."
His silence invited you to keep talking, as did his tail, now coiling around you.
"Because I was here so often he thought we were sleeping together. Didn't believe me when I said we were only friends. He got angry, really angry." Your body shook remembering his hands around your neck, the names he called you, the insults.
"So you ran here. To me." Zhongli's voice sounded lower then usual. It sent a very different kind of chill down your body, one that finished between your legs. It was shameful. How something so simple had an effect on you. It wasn't anything new for you, when you were in here you always had your hand between your legs at least once a night, not daring to call his name out.
"Because I knew you'd keep me safe Zhongli. I trust you."
"You love me." He announced, shifting his body until he was on top of you, looking down at you, his face still stoic but his hands conveying his love as they cupped your face. "If you so wish, if you would allow me, I could make you my woman. My mate."
Your heart wanted it, your cunt did too, pulsing and empty, "I don't need you to pity me. I know I'm just a human. I have nothing to offer you."
"That is not true. For years now you've been coming here, keeping me company, talking to me, keeping me from going insane. Also," He bent down and nosed your neck, "don't think I don't know what you've been doing in here. This is my domain, I hear and see everything and everyone."
It was probably you who spread your legs for him, made it easy for his hips to push between them, for him to press his rock hard bulge against your core. There was so much heat between you two, but not enough friction. He could fix that, you could see he ached to fix that if only you said the words.
"Zhongli, please make me yours." Every other time you uttered those words it was in the thorns of passion and without him there to do so. Now he was here, on top of you, pealing off your clothes layer by layer until you lay naked beneath him. His pants followed, revealing that hard cock that's been the subject of your dreams for so many nights.
"Has he..." Zhongli trailed off, his body shaking as he aligned himself up with your entrance, gathered some wetness at the tip and waited.
You shook your head, "He wanted me to submit on my own, but how could I when I only wanted you." You reached back, undoing the tie in his hair with one hand and scratching at the base of his strong horn with the other, feeling the scales there. And with your heels you felt the beginning of his tail as you pulled him closer, "I want you to be the only one for me from now on."
"And I shall be." Zhongli handled you with gentleness, but also possessiveness, his hands running to your hips, his eyes following the bounce of your breasts when he entered you, the gulp you made that tapered off into a moan. It was very much to his liking. "My bite, I will hurt. However if you're to be my mate, my bride, it's necessary."
The pain of it scared you a little, but the pleasure you currently felt, his big, thick, throbbing cock rolling in and out of you with every movement of his hips was enough to distract you. You leaned up to kiss him first, "I do." You whispered against his lips, which made him tilt his head, "It's how humans seal a wedding."
"Ah. Then... I do." Zhongli's lips felt much hotter than your own, every part of him felt hotter. You wondered how his cum would feel. Your pussy clenched around him at the thought. His cock responded by twitching.
You leaned your head backwards, exposing your neck to him. His claws dug into the sheets and bedding beside your hips, clawing and tearing at them, he was trying to hold back from finishing. "I wanted you for so long. So long, my darling. The amount of seed I wasted when I should have been planting it inside your womb instead... it angers me."
Sharp teeth ticked your skin, feeling you gulp before they settled between your neck and your shoulder, "Please. I want to be yours Zhongli. In every sense of the word."
That firm tail now wrapped around your leg like a snake, pulling it to the side so that he could have even more room. You were right, the bite hurt, but the pain was pale when compared to the pleasure that flowed both in and out of you moments later. You were hot all over, hot as your body arched against his, hot on the inside as you would be impregnated by his seed tonight, the sheer amount spilling from you, making your thighs sticky.
Despite giving it your best shot you couldn't leave marks on his back, but you knew he felt that you tried, a pleasant rumble emanating from his lips as they pulled away from your neck. Zhongli rolled you both to the side, his tail trading being coiled around your leg to being coiled around your hips.
One of his hand pressed down against your stomach, his voice low, "I love you." It was almost too quiet to be a whisper. "I will keep you safe, I promise you. Nothing and no one will ever bring you harm again."
If you had enough strength you would have cried again at that very moment. There will be time for tears, both happy and sad in the future. For now you wanted to rest, to sleep your first night with him soundly. With him, Rex Lapis, Morax, Zhongli, your new husband.
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thatdeadaquarius · 8 months
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HELP I JUST HAD A THOUGH
WHAT IF
What if....
Blunt reader became a harbinger
I have NO idea how that would go but im here for the crack lol
I BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE-
(and to use this gif more importantly they're all so hot here lol)
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Sun: Reader (you/they/them), Blunt Language AU :D
Orbit: Headcanons-ish, crack treated srsly (yes im using ao3 tags atp)
Stars: Harbingers!
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known & Trigger Warnings: none known.
Please comment if I missed any. /gen
SO thought I’d update anyone missing out bc of the new year but-
I made this silly thing called Blunt Language AU, that was my 1st post for this blog/fandom actually! :D
I’ll link it here, but TLDR: it’s just our modern speech sounding “ancient” to the Teyvatians, who speak really flowery/fluffy/lots of context in comparison!
That’s all you rlly need to know to read this I think, so enjoy! :)
u fall into Genshin Impact, and Snezhnaya is where you land first type of energy lol
weird golden star falling from the sky? that sounds like a prophecy the Tsaritsa knows abt alright
so they sent Childe, one of the friendliest (if not The Friendliest) Harbinger, to see if it was a valid claim you’d finally descended,
and ofc as soon as the redhead heard you try and talk to him, he knew the claims by the small village nearby (who had taken u in from the cold weather/taken care of you) were legit
pantalone did manage to squeeze some examples of what you’d possibly sound like into his head before he left so while Childe personally has a tough time talking to you, it doesn't mean he’s not willing to try!! >:)
he mostly just kept asking questions forever until he understood what you meant, and as soon he got u were asking abt the Tsaritsa, the other Harbingers, himself, even how to get Sneznayan-made clothes lol
he was like: 👀👀👀???!!!!
it wasn't so much recruitment at first as it was “omg the exalted one wishes to learn abt us, the Tsaritsa and her Harbingers? abt me?? well would your highness like to come to our palace perchance???!!!!”
= have u ever been seduced and worshipped by a god and her country?? would you like to- ??? ← Childe actually
and with that convinces you to come straight to the Harbingers/Tsaritsa’s very home
No, you’re not just spoiled.
No, you’re not just pampered.
You are cosseted and coveted.
The Tsaritsa makes her first in person appearance to the people in decades to personally announce your return, and to get a festival going to literally parade you into the capital lol
And tbh it was kind of shocking how quickly the people of Snezhnaya are able to whip out the party supplies, within days of traveling via horses/sleds/carriage/trains all kinds of transportation, u arrived at the capital in full swing of a parade for you
The Tsaritsa herself in what looks like a genshin-ified kokoshnik, the elaborate headress draped with a veil so thin it looks like frost covering her face,
flocked on either side by her harbingers in full (kinda goth) ceremonial outfits waiting on your arrival too
needless to say you are properly smitten intimidated
and you stay nervous around them for the first few days or so,
that is before you run into the weekly, what you would call “family dinner nights”, but they call “dinner reports”…
in which Childe, the only one you’d been comfortable enough around to be a bit more genuine to, and surprisingly the only one to quickly adapt to your speech after traveling with you for days, would translate for you what tf you were saying to them vs. what everyone at the table was saying to you/around you
you would also like to propose other titles for these weekly dinner meetings you’re invited to, aka “family feud dinner night/family fight night/harbinger on harbinger hate night/fruit on fruit crimes, if you will” 💀
the Tsaritsa is just peacefully talking to you abt any and everything, bc ofc Pierro’s on her right, and ur on her left
(she and Pierro are surprisingly soft spoken, very polite, and able to say something interesting/take an interest in whatever subject you all end up on)
u don't think you've ever been more comfortable and on such equal footing around ppl sm older than you (what are older ppl to you, but to them ur literally fucking eldritch with how ancient u are, and u can tell with how they treat u like it lmao)
hard cut back to the rest of the table:
an argument that just gets louder and louder has broken out between Childe, Dottore, La Signora, and Pantalone abt who should get free time with you first/get to do smth with you first as you get over ur adjustment period here, Childe has taken his butter knife to throw and just barely missed Dottore’s eye, and it is now embedded in the back of his fancy chair (the servants placing down dinner courses just move abt w/the most bored expressions on their faces)
(u send half the table if this group gets out of hand and u just: “Please shut the fuck up, each of ur comebacks take 30 minutes and it’s killing me” 💀 bc they're the most likely to understand u too, even Pierro/Capitano/Pulcinella chuckle a little, and u think the Tsaritsa smirked under her veil)
ur honestly too scared to see what Scarmouche, Sandrone, and Arlecchino are arguing about, because they're arguing so silently further down the table. They have murder in their eyes.
Columbina and Capitano are having a peaceful collab over weapons, armor, and clothing to offer you, Pulcinella is close enough to both participate in that convo and in you, Pierro, and the Tsaritsa’s convos too
by the 2nd week you've decided to choose chaos, and get them to play board games together sometimes (they cant all make it all the time, tbh u don't know if u can handle that either) but groups of them will play at a time
u remembered early on what a dick Dottore was, and sentenced asked if he’d like to play this new board game called “Monopoly” from ur world with Childe, Pantalone, Pierro, Arlecchino, La Signora, and Scaramouche all together :)
(so what ur trying to bring khaenri’ah part 2 down on his head as punishment?? u owe scara and collei that at least)
Columbina is more than happy to help get you Harbinger-like clothes to wear since ur so interested in the style!! (yes yesss get converted, she already has a title picked out for you)
she also giggles anytime u talk abt whether u like an outfit or not, bc u just “no thank you I’d rather wear a trash bag than that shirt, but lets try another?”
meanwhile the tailors in the background u could literally edit them to one of those videos where it just zooms in on their faces with a vine boom of shock
like Pierro, ur unranked, just above the other Harbingers really, as it wouldn't do to make you the 12th Harbinger or smth
the names they gave you being, “The Playwright” or “The Renaissance” or even “Drammaturgo”
(pls anyone who speaks Italian correct if I'm wrong ToT )
ok but the first time, unsurprisingly, one of them got snappy with you, likely Scara I would think,
Scaramouche, pissy: “And what shall we do if it appears our almighty god is perhaps a descender who is entirely human? Why I dare say you’d be transgressing on privileges that were never yours to begin with!”
Every other Harbinger, the Tsaritsa herself, the servants, the frost on the walls: 😶😦😨😶‍🌫️
You, unbothered, still eating and fully expecting this moment: “I don't want to hear it from someone who has god-mommy issues. You shouldn’t have an opinion about me, ur biased.”
yeah, so obviously, they’re emotionally all attached now whether they know it or not, and this was of course the moment they realized they're god would fit in so perfectly here
(the other nations are going to have to pry you from Snezhnaya from their cold dead hands, esp since u now have legal deniability to visit bc ur technically a Harbinger, only commanded by her majesty lol)
(Scaramouche, Arlecchino, and Sandrone were fighting about who gets the room nearest to your quarters lol)
(Capitano won, somehow??)
sorry ive been slow lately guys, been just trying to work on alllll the fics these past weeks/days/however long its been??
anyway had the shift from hell last week so wish me luck with work this week if u see this 😭
hope u enjoyed this old ask/crack treated srsly post orah!! :D
Safe Travels,
💀♒
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