#was i perhaps a little too self-indulgent in my replies?

[notmoreflippingelves]

saemi-the-dreamer asked:

OTP ask 😉 ! Krisnix: 10, 14, 30, 39, 42 ; Estelanor: 2, 5, 18, 30, 51 please?

Splitting these up into two posts again as I rambled on for way too long. And this way, I can post at least part of it sooner <3. This one is the krisnix one.

Krisnix

10. Describe their first date

They have like three "first dates" lol. The first would be the first time Kristoph invites Phoenix to join him for dinner at the Borscht after Phoenix finishes his shift there (or in-between shifts). Kristoph offers to pick up the check (he will do this on all their subsequent dates as well, and Phoenix doesn't resist in the least). Phoenix *technically* gets an employee discount when he dines at the Borscht but he never uses it with Kristoph--both because he enjoys making Kristoph spend more--and because he knows that Kristoph himself is enough of a snob that he'd hate feeling like a "cheap date" who couldn't afford to pay the proper bill.

Neither of them really expects this to turn into a regular thing. They just happen to be there (either Kristoph was working on a case in the area or purposely sought Phoenix out following the Bar Association's ruling) and be hungry at the same time. So they figure that they might as well eat together and talk through the conversation. And again, both of them are pretty surprised at how agreeable they find each other's company.

Phoenix is much more intelligent and well-read than his unpolished "every man" exterior would suggest--largely due to his time as an arts major. And Kristoph is surprised at how much they have to talk about. He may not be as cultured as Kristoph by a long shot, but he's surprisingly interesting and insightful, nevertheless. And the conversations end up being a lot more stimulating (in more ways than one) and engrossing than Kristoph ever expected.

Meanwhile even though Kristoph Gavin comes across as the coldest, most remote and pretentious person that you've ever met at first (and to be fair, there is a good bit of that in him still), Phoenix is amazed at how full-of-life-and-light Kristoph can be when you catch him on the right topic. He positively gushes about dogs and tells the funniest, warmest stories about Klavier-as-a-small-child. It's rather adorable and super unexpected. He's also surprisingly funny. His wit is much drier than Phoenix's own, and a bit more biting. But still, it's there and it's sometimes irrestitable. Plus, Kristoph is also funny in unintentional ways, given how stiff and formal and seemingly stoic he often is. So much so that Phoenix can't help but look at him and laugh--simultaneously with derision (i.e. "can you fucking believe this guy?") and with genuine affection (i.e.. "it's fucking cute how ridiculous he is without meaning to be.")

Their second "first date" would be the first time that they do something together in a place other than the Borscht Bowl. Neither of them come even close to acknowledging it as a date. This is simply an" outing that we will do together since I enjoy your company and we are sort of 'friends' now." It probably comes about rather organically. Kristoph mentions a different restaurant that he recently tried with Klavier and wonders if Phoenix has ever tried it. (Of course, he hasn't. The entrees cost more than he makes in a given night at the Borscht). Which then naturally extends to Kristoph saying that it's a pity Phoenix hasn't had a chance to go yet, and perhaps, he and Kristoph might go together some evening as friends.

Their third "first date" would be much the same as one of the ones that came before. But with a crucial difference. They are still nowhere near identifying this particular outing as a "date." But since their last "first date," their "friendship" has since extended to include physical intimacy of some kind. Maybe they've had a drunken kiss or two--or maybe they've actually done teh sex. Nevertheless, they are both acutely aware that things are DIFFERENT between them from then on, while also stubbornly refusing to admit to each other that things are different. They know this is a date. They know that they are much more than friends--even ones "with benefits"--but you will never get them to acknowledge this fact. This is just a shared social experience between two men who enjoy each other's company and lips and there is nothing more to it than that. (There is a great deal more to it than that).

Sadly, they never got to the point of a fourth "first date" (i.e. one that they openly acknowledge as a date) in canon, but they still can in my heart.

14. How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash?

Both Phoenix and Kristoph are artistically-minded, driven, and very intelligent (albeit in different ways.) As I mentioned in the previous point, Phoenix is somewhat more "cultured" than one would imagine and Kristoph is not *quite* as much of a humorless stick-in-the-mud than he appears. So they actually find that they have a great deal to talk about and can enjoy each other's company. Due to the circumstances that brought them together, there is inevitably a little bit of a facade to their "friendship" but not nearly as much of one as you might think.

In terms of their differences counterbalancing each other, Kristoph's cautious and reserved nature helps reign in some of Phoenix's unhinged impulsiveness. Meanwhile, Phoenix's sense of humor and spontaneity can sometimes force Kristoph to stop taking everything (especially himself) so damn seriously and to open himself up to life outside professional success.

However, it isn't all smooth sailing for them. These same differences can cause friction between them just as often as they smooth it. Moreover, the fact that both men are extremely stubborn also leads to clashes.

As a workaholic and supremely ambitious person in his own right, Kristoph also finds himself frequently frustrated by Phoenix Wright's perceived laziness and lack of ambition. They both know that Phoenix is capable of being more than dubiously sober piano bum and illegal poker player at a mediocre dive bar. So why isn't Phoenix "trying" harder to find something better for himself?

Meanwhile, Kristoph is also trying very hard not to acknowledge that Phoenix's current state is very much Kristoph's own fault. He tries to convince Phoenix to lift himself out of his sorry state, at least in part to ease Kristoph's own conscience.

Kristoph is also very unaware that much of Phoenix's perceived lazy, aimlessness is an act--one carefully tailored to lull Kristoph into a false sense of security so that Phoenix can make his move.

Naturally, the biggest barrier between them is the one that they can never directly acknowledge. Kristoph's role in orchestrating Phoenix's disbarment and Phoenix's complete awareness of this fact. On the rare occasion that the topic comes up indirectly in conversation (ex: any mention of Phoenix's former legal career, Kristoph's Bar Association duties, Trucy's life before Phoenix, media coverage of the so-called "Dark Age of Law,"etc.) things between Kristoph and Phoenix become decidedly more tense than usual. Lots of sarcastic remarks, comments that can be taken in more than one way, and little arguments over matters that would normally not have provoked such a response. Again, they can't ever discuss the real state of things openly so they have their little proxy spats and then quickly try to change the subject.

30. Your OTP gets to pick out each other’s outfits; what is each wearing?

Phoenix loves to make Kristoph dress more casually--both because it's cute but also because he thinks it's mentally/psychologically "good" for Kristoph. He will be more relaxed when he wears clothing that is softer, looser, and/or more comfortable. I think Kristoph probably has a Gavinners-branded hoodie or sweatshirt that is leftover merch from Klavier, and Phoenix is constantly trying to persuade him into wearing it--ideally with jeans instead of Kristoph's normal dress pants. He eventually gives in, partly because Phoenix Wright is unbelievably stubborn but also partially because damn it, the sweatshirt (though far too casual for professional use) is very soft and very warm--and Kristoph has always been the sort of person who gets cold easily. And there is something very relaxing and soothing about letting himself dress for warmth and physical comfort instead of trying to impress people. Also he feels much freer to cuddle with Vongole (which is also psychologically very good for him) when he's less concerned about getting dog hair on his nice work clothes.

Kristoph, conversely, likes to dress Phoenix up. Underneath that dreadful hat and sweatshirt, Phoenix Wright is a rather handsome man with nice broad-shoulders, a pleasingly strong jaw, and bright, twinkling eyes. He really should show off his handsome features and physique. And yet, he hides himself in this loose, plebian garb and two days worth of stubble. (Kristoph is in deep denial about how much he likes Phoenix's stubble. Phoenix is completely aware of the effect he has on the other man).

So Kristoph is always looking for excuses to put Phoenix in a suit or even just a button-down shirt with a tie. And sometimes, Phoenix is willing to indulge him, even if it still feels weird to put on his "trial suit" to go anywhere other than courtroom. But he does like reminding Kristoph (and himself) just how nicely he can clean up when he wants to.

(Kristoph is so lucky that he never got to see three-piece suit dilfnix and his waistcoat of sexyness. He would've died of lust on the spot, and all Phoenix would've done was laugh.)

Another "compromise" is that Kristoph is able to talk Phoenix into a bit more often is a short-sleeve polo shirt. A little more dressy than his normal hoodie but still not properly formal.

(Of course, Kristoph never quite thinks through the ramifications of this. He is Victorian level of repressed-yet-horny. And so the instant, Phoenix's bare forearms enter the chat, kristoph.exe promptly stops working.)

39. Who would rescue an injured animal and nurse it back to health? What would the other think?

Honestly, I think its fairly plausible that either would do this. But honestly, it's much more interesting to think about Kristoph being the one to do it so that's where I'm gonna focus.

This could be a possible backstory for Vongole acquisition. Kristoph's job led him to find the most Beautiful Dog in the World™ left abandoned (and possibly wounded) after her owner died or went to prison. At first, he intends to take Vongole in for a short while until he can find a new home for her. (She's a purebred and a very good girl so Kristoph isn't ready to just dump her in an animal shelter's care and hope for the best). But it's not long until he finds himself just completely enraptured by her and unable to imagine his life without her.

Phoenix, meanwhile, has enjoyed watching this unfold from a bit of a distance. He doesn't meet Vongole officially for awhile, but he notices how quickly Kristoph is completely "puppy-whipped" for her. Kristoph can't stop talking about this "foster" dog he's looking after. He talks about more even than he talks about work--which is saying something. His eyes light up behind his glasses and he can't stop smiling when he's chattering about how SMART and cultured Vongole is, because she sits and listens and wags her tail whenever Kristoph is practicing his violin. And she's so got the most refined palette too. She likes only the best dog food made from the finest ingredients.

It's adorable seeing Kristoph like this, so happy and relaxed and at peace with himself. Even with all the baggage between himself and Kristoph, Phoenix genuinely likes seeing his frenemy in this light and is happy for him.

After a few months worth of Kristoph "fostering" Vongole, he finally announces that he's decided to keep her permanently and Phoenix is all ...

(Phoenix saw this coming about a week after Vongole came into Kristoph's life).

I am also struck by another possible "Kristoph-rescues-a-wounded-animal scenario" as well and would like to discuss it. In this case, I think Kristoph should find and take care of a wounded bird (preferably a baby). I think the most narratively satisfying (i.e. metaphorically resonant) would involve Kristoph having accidentally caused the bird's injury in the first place. Maybe he accidentally hit a passing bird with his car or caused the bird to fall out of its nest and injure itself, while Kristoph was tending to his garden. Kristoph would therefore have to take accountability for having hurt something so beautiful and delicate and would see his nursing the bird back to health as an atonement for his past missteps.

Phoenix, meanwhile, would have very mixed reactions to seeing Kristoph's diligent care for this particular bird. He can't help but feel a little envious seeing Kristoph take responsibility for his harmful actions in this respect, while Kristoph has utterly failed to do the same where Phoenix is concerned. The significance of this being a bird--and Phoenix's own name being a (mythical) bird is not at all lost on him either. But on the other hand, he sees Kristoph being so patient and caring and gentle with this little wounded bird, and Phoenix can't help but love him for it. Can't help but wonder if--if only circumstances were just a little different and if he and/or Kristoph were able to swallow their pride for long enough--maybe Kristoph would have been able to do the same thing with Phoenix after all. But of course, they are doomed by themselves, their anger, and the narrative so this would never happen.

If the bird is unable to be safely released back into the wild after all--or Kristoph is simply unwilling to let the bird go-- it's also possible that the caged blue bird in Kristoph's cell is in fact this very same bird. Which adds some additional metaphorical resonance to the obvious Phoenix-bird parallels. Either Kristoph has already damaged the bird (and Phoenix) so severely and irrevocably that even his most ardent attempts at atonement/undoing the harm are not nearly enough. Or Kristoph has become so mentally and emotionally attached to the bird (and Phoenix) that he refuses to let it fly away from him--especially while Kristoph himself is wasting away in prison.

42. What’s their favorite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching thunderstorms, etc.)

Phoenix most enjoys bright, warm sunny days (especially in the summertime). This is more in general than relating to Kristoph specifically. There is so much more to do when the weather is nice--including a few particular things that he enjoys doing with Trucy and often with Kristoph as well. They've gone berry-picking a few times (on Kristoph's dime), something that neither Kristoph nor Trucy had ever done before and something that they are both pleasantly surprised by. They will go for picnics at the park and talk Kristoph into taking Vongole with them. (Trucy enjoys playing several rounds of fetch with her afterwards). Sometimes, when they have a day at the pool, Kristoph will wear a big, floppy hat to keep the sun off his face, and Phoenix can't help but find it rather endearing.

Kristoph, meanwhile, enjoys the rain. Or more specifically, a steady, lightning-less medium downpour that is heavy enough to keep everyone indoors (and prevent Phoenix from leaving too soon) and water the grass, while still being nowhere near heavy enough for there to be any danger of flooding.

He enjoys taking Vongole for walks after the rain and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of the air. He particularly enjoys it when he is able to rope Phoenix (and sometimes Trucy and/or Klavier) into joining him. Especially on the very memorable occasion that they saw a full rainbow just as the sun was starting to set.

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: i caved and did an actual Ewan fic! Given that the lad is more of a public persona nowadays, I reckon it's fine (?) This is pure self-indulgence for all my Ewan loves. May have a continuation but idk for now, enjoy!!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader and Ewan are paired for press interviews. Despite barely having any scenes together and only knowing each other in passing on set, the chemistry they share cannot be denied...

Your first round of press takes place in a primped up hotel suite in Paris, thanks to the team at HBO.

You are an up and coming actress, much like some of your costars in the show, but the pressure is heavier on you because you were entering in season two, whereas everyone was already well-acquainted with one another.

Your few scenes were mostly with Jace and Baela, so you grew close to Harry and Bethany.

However, the media team decided to pair you up with Ewan for the day. A little fun initiative was set by the team that a character from the Blacks would be do press with a counterpart from the Greens - hence, yourself and Ewan.

You're nervous as you walk down the hallway, unable to fully pay attention to the instructions your lovely assistant gives you.

She tells you about the different interviewers for the day, bloggers and magazine writers from all over the world. She reminds you that each one will only be for a maximum of 5 minutes, so it shouldn't be too complicated. She smiles and eagerly says, "Take a deep breath, you got this!", as you reach the suite doors.

But in your mind, all you can recall is your first interaction with Ewan, almost a year ago right after the table read. You had nervously blurted out to him that Aemond is your favourite character, after he just asked, "How are you?". He laughed, said thank you, before he was pulled away in conversation by Tom.

You pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that things will fare better today. That you won't get all tongue-tied when those steel blue eyes land on you.

Upon entering the room, the team is quick to fuss over you. Sometimes you forget that you're actually an actress now. A celebrity, some might say. It all feels surreal and you have a inkling it won't ever stop being this way.

Ewan is already seated in front of the camera, and he stands to give you a hug as you finally walk over.

"Hey there, how are you?" he smiles widely, smelling like cigarettes and something muskier as he wraps his arms around you.

Unroll your tongue. Rework your brain. Calm down.

"Hey, Ewan!" you respond. "I'm doing great, happy to see you again."

"Well, I only wish we could have had more time together on set." Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to take your seat before he does the same. "But next season perhaps? Who knows?"

"Oh, sure." You settle in, pleased by the fact that your chairs are only about a foot apart. "We can both look forward to my character giving Aemond the arse kicking he deserves."

He laughs, eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on now, I was thinking our characters are actually quite compatible, no?"

"Well, I sure wouldn't want to step on Alys' shoes. She'd probably curse my character all the way to Yi Ti."

"Hmm," he hums, biting his lip. You can't help but hear Aemond when he does that. "I say you can always count on Aemond and Vhagar to come to the rescue of a beautiful maiden such as yourself."

Well, you'll be damned. Ewan, while still an introvert of his own sort, is as charming as can be. If he's turning it on to get himself hyped for the press, it's working.

It's definitely working on you, to say the least.

The media manager gives the signal for the first interview to begin, and a reporter walks in, all ready with prepared script in hand.

"Here we go," you mutter, facing forward.

"Good luck," Ewan replies.

You both shake the reporter's hand, and he introduces himself as Jared.

"So guys," Jared begins. "Why don't we start with you telling me a little bit about what we can expect from your characters this season?"

The question is easy, and it doesn't take long for you and Ewan to think it through. Jared asks a few more basic questions, before drawing the attention more to you.

"When you watched season one, did you have a favourite character?" he asks you.

You smile, "Oh, I mean, I have to say - and Ewan already knows this, by the way - that Aemond was my favourite character."

"Was?" Ewan says, feigning shock. "Unacceptable."

"Was... Is... " you shrug, rolling your eyes playfully, earning a laugh from Jared. "I think I might be more a Daemon girl now."

"Oh!" Jared exclaims happily. "Does Matt know about this?"

"I'll be sure to tell him - "

Ewan interjects, shaking his head at you, "There's no need to tell him, because I'll convert her back to Team Aemond in no time, trust me."

"Daemon is awesome, though," you say to him, smiling.

"Sure." Ewan makes a face like that fact doesn't matter. Wasn't he the one who said that Daemon would be the character he would most like to play if not Aemond?

"And Caraxes is my favourite dragon." You share a look with Jared, hoping he would agree.

"Yes!" Jared says. "Caraxes is the best dragon in the show, in my opinion."

"Ah, you're both wrong," Ewan says. "My Vhagar is the oldest and baddest dragon in all of the land."

"My Vhagar, he says," you joke. "Seems like someone still hasn't shed Aemond for this press tour."

"And I never will, darling." His gaze is intense when he turns to you, and you clear your throat to fight the warmth rushing to your cheeks.

"Alright, they're giving me the wrap-up," Jared thankfully breaks the tension. "It was a pleasure talking to you guys, congratulations on the new season!"

One interview down, and your nerves have already considerably subsided. Ewan tapping your arm to start up a conversation once more surely helps in distracting you.

In the best damn way possible.

"How do you think we did? That wasn't too bad, was it?"

"I think we did quite well," you casually offer a high five, but your heart skips a beat when Ewan interlaces your suspended hands for just a moment.

"I'm glad they paired me with you," Ewan says, after releasing your hand. You hold on to the armrests to keep your fingers from twitching.

"I am, too," you admit. "I am a fan of you, after all, but I think you already know that."

He blushes, "Well, that's not a bad thing. I think you're a fantastic actress. I must have seen your first film a good ten times."

"You mean my first and only film," you add humbly. "But thank you."

"Only film for now," he affirms. "No doubt this is only the beginning for you, darling. With your talent and your charisma, I'm sure you have potential scripts piled up already."

"I could say the same for you! Have you seen what your fans say about you online? You're the internet's new boyfriend, Ewan Mitchell."

The media manager announces the next interview, but Ewan follows up with a response for you under his breath, "I have seen some things. But when I have a girlfriend, I'll make sure she won't have to share me at all."

Oh, so apparently he is single. But wait - why is he telling you this?

You don't get to mull over that thought. For the time being, the next interview starts and you make sure you do a good job at what you're paid to do - promoting the series.

Not daydreaming about getting with a costar, for heaven's sake. Stay professional.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You feel lightheaded after finishing the seventh - or had it been the eighth? - interview.

Your assistant delivers a coffee to you during the twenty-minute break. Ewan had stepped out to the balcony to have a smoke, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He certainly is everything you expected him to be, and so much more. Insightful, cheeky, dedicated. An artist, through and through. He was in the business for all the right reasons, passion and respect for the craft.

If he had any flaws, you weren't privy to them yet. If there are any reasons for you not to be attracted to him, you didn't know what those were yet.

And with every flirtatious remark and pointed smile, you can't deny the hope blooming in you.

"Hey," he reappears, pulling you out of your musings. "I hope you don't mind that I smell of smoke."

No, you didn't, not when it's him.

"Don't worry about it," you reassure him. You tilt your head forward to take a sip of your coffee, but a lock of your hair falls in front of your face. Annoyed, you think to reach for it, but Ewan beats you to it, tucking it back in place.

"There you go, darling," he croons, gesturing for you to proceed in drinking.

"Th-thanks." His eyes don't leave yours as you take a slow sip.

"So," you say, desperate to break the silence, "which interview did you enjoy the most so far?"

"How can I possibly choose? I mean, I really liked the one with ComicSociety, the guy that said our characters have a lot of chemistry and should get together next season. He's right, I already told you!"

"Ohhh, sure, that will go down really well with the Blacks and Greens."

He smirks, "I don't see why not?"

"For one, Aemond is ensnared by Alys, and my character will never give up fighting for Rhaenyra. I just don't see it happening, Ewan."

"Right," he mutters thoughtfully, "there is still Alys in the picture."

"Still in the picture? With the amount of steamy scenes you two have lined up for season three, I'd say she will be Aemond's entire picture in and of herself."

"Hmm," he glances at you once, then looks down. Dare you think it, does he look disappointed?

"But hey," you add lightly, "maybe we can talk to Ryan and he can flip the entire script just for our characters."

"Yeah," his cheeky smile resurfaces, "maybe you can take Alys' place."

Take the place of Alys? Of Alys. Is he insinuating...

"Next round of interviews, guys!" The media manager announces to the room.

"Here we go again, darling," Ewan squeezes your hand once, before putting on his professional face once more.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

By the end of it all, not even caffeine can perk you up. You were exhausted, you and Ewan having finished four full hours of press.

Your assistant comes to your aid, ready to direct you back to your own hotel room.

"This has been such a pleasure, Ewan, really." You stand, this time initiating the hug.

He squeezes you gently, humming in your ear. When you pull apart, he says, "I honestly wouldn't mind trudging through hours and hours of press with you."

That's sweet of him. You're too tired to mask the warmth that rises to your cheeks. "And I feel the same. Today couldn't have gone any better."

"Truly, and listen, maybe we could - "

"Ewan!" The manager approaches. "I'm so sorry to rush with this, but we need to film just a quick soundbite with you for Aemond. Just two to three questions for the Max Tiktok account?"

"Oh, okay - " Ewan is reluctant to turn away from you.

"Perfect! If you could just stand there by the windows please..." The manager already has him by the arm, directing where he has to go.

"We have to go," your assistant says. "Still have to prep for tomorrow."

"I'll see you soon, Ewan!" you call out to him. "Thanks again."

He gives a half-hearted wave, dejected as he watches you walk out of the room.

"That wasn't too bad," you share with your assistant as you enter the elevators. "Not bad at all, actually."

"Oh, you did so well," she compliments. "It definitely helps with the press that you and Mr. Mitchell have such insane natural chemistry."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

In the calm of your hotel room, you get ready for bed.

Just when you're about to finish with your nightly routine, your phone rings from your bedside table. You're quick to rush over, thinking it could be your assistant or your manager, with an urgent update about work.

But no - it's an unknown number. A UK number, as it appears.

Confused, you click answer anyway, putting it to your ear with a tentative, "Hello, who is this?"

"Hi, darling."

"Ewan?"

"Yeah, uhm, I hope I didn't disturb you - "

"Not at all," your answer comes out in a rushed breath.

"I also hope you don't mind that I got my assistant to ask your assistant to give me your number? It's what I wanted to ask you before you left today."

"Oh." You feel fully awake now, by some miracle, butterflies finding home in your stomach. "I don't mind. I... I should have given you my number, anyway. I have most of the cast's, in case I need to get a hold of you guys."

"Hmm, right," he says from the other end. You hear him calmly breathing, the sound strangely comforting, and wonder if he can hear the same from you.

He says, "I just wanted to keep hearing your voice. Didn't get enough of it today," and your heart just about stops.

"Oh. Okay," is all you are able to respond with.

"What are you doing?"

"Just... just getting ready for bed." Phone pressed to your ear, you shuffle around the room, putting some things back in place.

He says nothing for a few seconds, but you still hear his breathing, and some shuffling in the background. It occurs to you that he might just be as nervous as you are now.

Maybe.

"Listen," he finally says, "do you want to hear my pitch to Ryan about why our characters should get together next season?"

A genuine laugh escapes you. He sure is persistent. Playful, sure, but you're definitely willing to play along.

"Let's hear it."

"First," he says, "you have to renounce Daemon as your favourite character - "

"Not a chance."

" - and swear your love for Aemond."

"Keep dreaming."

He laughs, and you can only picture the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Aww darling," he teases, "don't you love me?"

💌 part two - part three

The OGs will know that the final line is a nod to my first ever Aemond fic! 🖤

Did this slightly delay my series works? Yes, yes it did. Do I regret it? For Ewan frickin Mitchell, I would never ~

[aquarelliwrites]

Saturdays

SHIP: Oscar Piastri x Reader

SUMMARY: He sleeps like the dead, but at least he's pretty while doing it?

CONTENTS: Fluff, use of you/yours, no use of Y/N, entirely self-indulgent

wc: 536

A ray of sunshine in your eyes is what wakes you up.

It's one of the rare days when both Oscar and you are free of obligations. One of the rare days when you wake up before him, and get to revel a little in the feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you close to him; the feeling of his legs tangled with yours underneath soft blankets; the feeling of his face buried in the curve connecting your neck and shoulder, fanning it with small breaths.

You allow yourself to drift between consciousness and the abyss for a while longer.

„Osc.“ You whisper – and get no response. The man – your darling sweetheart, the light of your life, really – continues sleeping like he's a rock or perhaps a log. Repeating yourself a little more loudly gets you nothing more than a hum. „I need to get up.“

He replies this time, says something, surely, and the vibration of his voice against your skin spreads like wildfire all over your body. He is also, unfortunately, entirely incomprehensible.

„What?“ You laugh.

„What th' hell d'you need to get up for?“ The vice-like grip on you doesn't loosen as you hoped it would.

„Um, the bathroom?“

He groans and lets go of you, acting like it's the most effort he's ever had to put into any task, ever. You laugh, pressing a little kiss on his cheek before getting up.

„Oh, do that again.“ The corners of his lips tilt upwards with the plea. You can't help but oblige.

 When you return, you pause in the doorway to admire the way he managed to take up the entirety of the bed. The way his torso rises and falls rhythmically under the covers. The way his shoulders look – you could spend an eternity just gazing at the way the muscles in his back move. The way he's sleeping with his face in the crook of his elbow, hiding away from the sun.

He feels the mattress dip and moves his head ever so slightly to look at you, even if he therefore must endure the Sun's corona behind you. „S'too early, darling,“ he croaks, and you laugh softly before leaning down to press a kiss between his shoulder blades.

„You're right.“ And you lay back down with that, arm thrown over him in a looser cuddle than he had you in minutes ago. He revels in the warmth of your palm on his bare skin, in the dance of your fingertips all over his back, in the quiet that blankets you both for a little while.

„I say this too much, but I really love you,“ he whispers, mind on the edge of sleep.

„You could never say it too much. I really love you too, you know.“

„I know, you're so good to me.“ The visible part of his face is smiling again.

„Your standards are low, then,“ you tease, messing up his hair.

He looks seriously offended for a moment. Or about as offended as he can look while he drifts off. „How dare you say that about my girlfriend?“

You breathe a little laugh again, and your pointer finger draws a heart on his spine.

hey, sorry that I died for nearly 2 months? go for broke is still being worked on but I think I want to go in a slightly different direction with that than I originally thought, so that's going to be A While. alas we live i suppose

[yayakoishii]

Hunger | Sanji x Reader

Sanji x Reader; Fluff...?

No pronouns used but written with a fem reader in mind. Reader is referred to as a woman or lady at times, but nothing else so you can ignore it if you want!

wc: 2.2k

a/n: super super self indulgent, I wrote this in an hour because I was possessed by this sudden overwhelming love for Sanji. honestly, this fic started with a different goal that where it ended but oh well. maybe I'll write another one to fully convey what I started here. this is my first time writing for OP and Sanji so forgive any mistakes and oocness! enjoyyy!!

also available on ao3!

Sanji didn't know what to think of you.

At first, he had treated you like the other ladies on board and expected you to treat him the same way they did. Except you were different. In your actions, in your words, in your whole being– there was a different kind of softness, warmth and intensity.

It started with you just giving him warm smiles and soft thank yous whenever he brought out a new drink or dish for them to enjoy. The way you always maintained eye contact while doing it left him feeling a little stunned for some reason, and it almost always ended up with him fainting from the loss of blood. And then the way you would be worried over it, even though everyone else just ignored it once he was under Chopper's hands.

You stayed there until he was okay enough to go back to the kitchen. It was just a little thing, but it seemed to squeeze his heart in a painful way.

It was fine with just that, until you started tip-toeing around his territory – the kitchen. He could see you peeking through the door at times, wondering if you wanted something to eat or drink but feeling shy when it came to actually calling you out for it. It was weird– he was being weird around you, but it wasn't his fault. There was something about your ease and quiet around him that made his heart jackhammer in his chest like it was trying to beat his entire life's worth.

So he stayed quiet, pretending not to notice, until you stepped in.

And then he couldn't ignore it anymore.

You sat at the table, just giving him a small smile and nothing else. You didn't say a single word and he couldn't stop himself anymore.

"Did you want something, (y/n)-chan?" He asked gently, just in case you were feeling shy to ask for whatever it was you wanted to eat. But you just shook your head at his words, resting your chin on the backrest of the chair.

"Not really, Sanji-kun," you replied, eyes fixated on his hands, now that he finally realised it. You were looking at the food he was cooking. "I just wanted to watch you cook. Is that okay?"

The blonde chef stood there for a few seconds, stunned silent. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't that. Why would you want to watch him cook? That would be a waste of your time! But before he could say as such to you, he was stopped by the earnest look in your eyes.

"I promise I won't disturb you!" You said quietly, eyes gleaming with your eagerness. He couldn't say no after that.

"Of course not, sweetheart," he finally replied, flicking his eyes downward so he doesn't keep staring at you. The face you had on was too innocent and bright, and his heart was doing that painful squeeze thingy again. "You could never disturb me."

Wrong. Your presence was very disturbing. In a good way, of course. In a way that made his insides feel like they are convoluting and rearranging themselves. In a way that made his chest feel tight and warm.

Perhaps he should have regretted saying that to you. Because you took it as a blanket permission to watch him cook everyday. You would walk in at random times after breakfast, sometimes with a book where you wrote while he cooked or empty handed like always.

And then you started talking to him.

Asking him curious little questions about the food he was cooking at first. And he would answer them as simply as he could, not wanting to confuse you. Sometimes, he saw you noting things down and wondered if you're learning to cook. But it didn't seem like that, just you and your weird fascination with watching him cook. That was fine. (That was not fine. It made him self-conscious because suddenly, he was wondering if he looked like a mess when he was cooking, something he had never doubted before.)

Then your questions turned to just telling him about random things that happened outside while he worked, or something you read in a book, or a story from your past. You talked to him like you would to any other person, but somehow, in the confines of the kitchen where he usually worked by his lonesome, it all felt doubly intimate and personal. Like you were whispering secrets straight into his ear, seeping into the crevices of his heart one drop at a time.

Somewhere along the line, he realised that he didn't feel that heart pounding feeling around any of the other women. He calmed down around them a little, and was gifted with Nami's concerned yet puzzled looks and Robin's analytical one. He played it off by avoiding the topic smoothly whenever they asked, but even they weren't blind to when this change had started to happen.

You, on the other hand, were oblivious to it. Like always, you stepped into the kitchen with more questions, this time about him, about his interests, and anything he wanted to talk about.

"...if I could go there," he paused when he realised that he had been going on and on about the All Blue for the past ten minutes while he was fluttering around the kitchen, without even seeing if you were listening. His head whipped up, cheeks red with embarrassment, only to find you looking at him intently with wide interested eyes.

And somehow, the usual squeezing feeling in his heart reversed. Now it felt like someone had cut his chest open and left its contents exposed for you to gently pick up and caress in your soft hands.

"Sorry, I rambled there for a bit," his mouth felt dry suddenly. He paused in his cooking to grab himself a glass of water.

"Why are you apologising?" You said cheerfully, scribbling something into your book as usual. "I asked you about it, Sanji-kun!"

"Still," he laughed nervously, wondering if you secretly thought he talked too much. Women liked it better when the man listened to them, right? "You probably didn't want to hear all of… that."

Your brows furrowed and you looked at him with a frown. "Why not?"

Sanji drew the glass away from his lips at your question, feeling a little lost. Did that mean you wanted to listen to him…?

"Isn't it boring for you?" He tried, readying himself to hear you affirm his statement.

"It's not boring at all," you said, shaking your pen in his direction. "You are obviously interested in it. You're passionate about it, like you're about your food, and I think that's wonderful. Hearing someone talk passionately about what they love can never be boring for me. It's like an open window into their hearts."

Sanji's heart jumped in its place at that line, wondering when was the last time someone had tried to look into his heart. He was always the one chasing after the ladies, ready to give his heart but never finding anyone who wanted it. And now you were here, wanting to know what was in his heart, wanting to know him. But what if he wasn't the only one? What if he was deluding himself into thinking that he was special to you?

"Did you ask the others about their dreams too?" He asked, hoping it came off as casually as he had wanted it to. You leaned back in the chair, nodding with a huge smile, not realising the way his heart sank at that.

"Of course I did," you said proudly, holding the book close to your chest. "Luffy gave me a place on this ship even though I had nothing to offer to the crew, just because I had nowhere else and no one else to go to. So I wanted to do something for him, and for you guys. Sanji-kun, can you keep a secret?"

"Anything for you, my love," he said without missing a beat, willing his feelings to stay beneath the surface as always. He didn't notice the way your cheeks pinked at the term, too distracted by his own thoughts.

"I'm trying to write down and compile all of your adventures till now," you stage whispered. That surprised him, and he looked at you, noticing the ink smudges on your fingers that curled around the book you had in your hands. He had noticed the smudges and marks increase over time, but he hadn't known what you were doing until now. "When Luffy becomes the King of Pirates, I want to share these adventures with the world. I want them to know the real people behind it all, not some made-up tyrannical version the Marines paint you as. I know firsthand just how kind and thoughtful every person on this ship is, and I am trying to record it in my own way."

"That's…" Sanji was speechless again. Somehow, you always managed to reduce him to that state. An unpleasant smell invaded his nostrils and he looked down, noticing that he had taken his eyes off the food for too long.

"The food!" You exclaimed, standing up from the chair and hurrying over, your book forgotten behind.

"Stay back, (y/n)-chan!" Sanji warned, not wanting you to accidentally get hurt from the hot pot. You hovered at a distance, clearly wanting to help but also not wanting to create more trouble by mistake. With deft hands, he cleared up everything, transferring the food to a different pot and taking care of the burnt one. "There we go. No need to worry, sweetheart, go sit down."

"I'm sorry," you mumbled. Sanji looked up, confused at the apology.

"What are you apologising for, (y/n)-chan?" He asked kindly, walking over to you. He stood a foot away, hesitant to touch but wanting to comfort you. How would you take it if he touched you? Would you be uncomfortable and push him away? He didn't want that. He never wanted you to feel uncomfortable or sad. Or like you had done anything wrong, when you clearly hadn't.

"I distracted you," you said guiltily, looking up at him with glossy eyes. "I promised I wouldn't."

"Don't be silly, sweetheart," he couldn't hold himself back. His left hand cupped your cheek, right one bringing his handkerchief out with a flourish to wipe away the tears welling up in your eyes. "It's not your fault. I was thinking too much, and I made a mistake."

You continued to stare up at him as he wiped the last of the tears and let go of your cheeks, hoping he hadn't crossed any boundaries.

"Sanji-kun…" Your voice was broken and he looked at you in concern. Had he done something wrong? Said something wrong? "It's unfair. It's so unfair!"

"What is, my love?" He asked, trying to figure out what you were talking about as your lips quivered. You were glaring down at the floor, clearly upset about something.

"You," you whispered. "You're unfair. Your existence is unfair. How can someone this perfect exist?"

And now, the usual hammering of his chest was replaced by his heart going stockstill, as if it was holding a breath too, at your simple words.

"The more I get to know you, the more I understand what a kind, loving and warm person you are," you rambled on, like a dam that's finally burst open. "I wanted to get to know you, more than anyone else onboard. So I lingered around, encouraged myself to talk to you. And then, every moment I spent with you just made me fall more and more in love with you. The way you fold your shirt up to your elbows, the look of concentration on your face when you're cooking, that soft look in your eyes when you're talking about food, the sheer strength in your legs when you're fighting, the immense love and respect you have for food. Every little thing about you just made me fall in love with you and I told myself to stay away, but you make it so hard to not keep coming back. I keep wanting to know more and more about you; it's like a hunger that is never satisfied no matter how much I feed it."

There was pindrop silence in the kitchen when you paused, realised what you had said and froze. Sanji's unlit cigarette fell from his lips as he stared at you, wondering if this was a wild self-torturous dream his brain had thought up to torment him with; except his brain could never imagine the way you were now flushed from head to toe, hiding your face behind widely spaced fingers. Your wide eyes peeked through the gaps, the look of utter mortification on your face visible to him even with the obstacles.

"I'm so sorr–"

He didn't let you finish. Sanji pulled you into a tight embrace, his long fingers finding purchase in the nape of your neck where your hair was. You gasped at the sudden action, heart hammering in tandem with his, suddenly realising in the close proximity that you were not the only one whose heart rate had spiked.

"I could ask you the same question, sweetheart," he wrenched himself away to stare you straight in the eyes. His hand reached back and up to hold your face again. You didn't miss the broken and vulnerable look in his eyes as he whispered the next few words, in a way like it was meant to be heard only by you.

"How can someone so perfect exist?"

[tamrielic]

just a little self–indulgent drabble thing because i’m experiencing a nasty flare–up right now due to stress and i am so exhausted and miserable but i honestly can’t stop thinking about how gentle and wonderful and perfect JING YUAN would be to me; this is my first time writing for star rail at all whatsoever so. oof. i wrote it in first–person first without thinking so if i missed changing that somewhere i’m sorry but i gotta go lay down and rest

“baobei, are you still asleep?” the gentle, deep voice cuts through your half–asleep state, making you groan softly as you roll over and blink your eyes open to find jing yuan knelt beside your bed. he’d clearly just gotten back from his official meetings, still looking regal in his general uniform, though his boots and cape had been discarded at the door.

you stare at him for a moment before you reply, your voice rough with both sleep not having spoken in a few hours. “just dozing. i’m sorry, i’ll get up now.”

you shift to pull back the blanket and move to sit up, but are stopped by a large hand resting on your shoulder, jing yuan having stood up to lean over you.

“that is not what i meant. it was a simple question, not a demand that you must quit resting,” he murmurs as he gently guides you to lay back down, sitting on the edge of the bed as he reaches out to brush a few stray curls from your face. his warm golden eyes search your expression, scanning over your body briefly before meeting your gaze once more, his voice softening even further with concern. “be honest with me; are you experiencing a flare–up of your illness?”

you stay silent for a moment, eyes focused on his face, head subconsciously tilting to lean into the touch of his fingers. your voice is hardly more than a whisper when you speak, your eyelashes fluttering.

“you know that i hate to let you see me like this, jing yuan.”

a deep, warm chuckle leaves him, his golden eyes softening even further as he leans down over you, his fluffy white hair spilling over his shoulders as he nudges his nose against yours gently while he hums thoughtfully.

“mmm, perhaps. but have you considered that i relish every opportunity that i have to treat you like royalty; to wait on you hand and foot? you’re so very stubborn, baobei, and you never want to accept any help,” he leans down further, brushing his lips against yours as he whispers. “how about you let this old general dote upon you today, hm?”

you immediately blush, feeling your face and ears grow warm as you squirm a bit, lips parting to brush against his own as you mutter.

“i can’t– you’re busy enough as it is– this isn’t something that the general of the xianzhou luofu, an emanator of the hunt, should be dealing with. especially not from his significant other.”

unable to stop the hitch in your breath, the tears stinging as they begin to well up in your eyes, your hands clench into fists on the bedsheets as you turn your head to the side to avoid those intense golden eyes that are peering into your soul.

jing yuan is silent for a moment, the quiet of the room only making your discomfort and anxiety skyrocket, before he lets out a sigh and moves to climb onto the bed, gently pulling you up and into his lap; the ease of which he does so always startling. he buries the fingers of one hand in your hair and pulls your head to his chest, wrapping his free arm around you and leaning back against the headboard. he holds you in silence for a moment before his deep voice breaks it as he starts to slowly and gently rake his fingers through your curls.

“those are indeed the fancy titles i have been gifted in my life. but i must remind you, fancy titles and immortality or not, i am still just a man. a man who happens to be head over heels in love with a lovely, wonderful individual. an individual whose laughter makes my soul alight, a person whose love for me burns brighter than any sun in the universe. a person who, in my opinion as well as many other’s, is far too hard on themselves.”

you can’t help but to curl into him at that, the tears spilling from your eyes as you cling to him and sniffle.

jing yuan laughs lowly, a laugh that can be felt more than heard, and he turns his head to press his lips to your forehead before murmuring.

“baobei, you must stop being so hard on yourself. or else i shall have to resort to drastic measures...”

he slowly trails his free hand down to gently squeeze the plush curve of your hip, wiggling his fingers and chuckling when you immediately squeal softly and squirm against him.

you pull back from him, your face hot and wet from tears, sniffling as you glare half-heartedly at him. you open your lips to rebuke him, but he slips his fingers from your hair to press a shushing one to your lips, his eyes sparkling with amusement and affection.

“shhh, none of that now, though it is good to see that fire in your soul that i find so endearing,” he shifts, leaning down and resting his forehead against your own.

your eyebrows furrow as you glare at him silently, reaching up and grasping his wrist to pull his hand away so you can speak.

“jing yuan, you... you’re an infuriating scoundrel.”

his lips part in a wide smile as he laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“ah, so you agree with lady fu in that regard, hm? interesting. tell me, what is so infuriating about a man being so deeply in love with someone that the effects of illnesses that are out of their control only make him love them more?”

you are silent as you process his words, truly pondering them as your gaze inevitably softens and you slowly melt against him. you reach your hands up to cradle his face, brushing your thumbs against his high cheekbones.

“i don’t deserve you, jing yuan, but... i’m selfish. i love you, and i need you. i don’t know why you tolerate me when i have such inconvenient chronic illnesses, but...” you trail off, tilting your head as you lean in and brush your lips against his. “... thank you.”

he smiles against your lips and hums contendedly, murmuring a soft “no need to thank me, baobei” before his lips coax yours into a slow, loving kiss.

closing your eyes, you finally allow yourself to relax into him fully, pressing soft and tender kisses to his lips between soft breaths, your hands still cradling his face.

after a few more moments you part, a tiny yawn escaping you as you curl up on his lap and rest your head on his shoulder while whispering.

“can we just... stay like this for a bit?”

jing yuan chuckles quietly, shifting you both so that you’re lying down on the bed as he wraps himself around you, nuzzling his face against your neck and mumbling tiredly.

“i would love nothing more, baobei; a nap is exactly what i need right now, honestly.”

you sigh softly before wrapping your arms and legs around him, enjoying the feeling of his body against yours and the comforting scent of him as you both fall asleep, the bitter and negative thoughts plaguing your mind evaporating as his presence and gentle reassurances ease your worries.

[lightsofthe-living-gvf]

Heavenly

18+ Minors DNI

Danny Wagner/Reader

Summary: Danny's just gotten home from tour, and you show each other just how much you’ve missed one another.

Warnings: smut, kinda fluffy, sweet sex, dirty talk, pet names, dom/sub undertones, Danny being a needy mess, marking, protected penetrative sex, a little bit of overstimulation.

Word Count: 3.6k.

A/N: Hello, everyone! Here is a completely self-indulgent fic about post-tour sex, featuring a slightly subby Danny (my fav). I hope you enjoy!

You weren't quite sure what had woken you up. Perhaps, you were gently roused from your sleep by the distant hum of traffic from the street in front of the house. Or, perhaps, it was the toasty rays of sunshine streaming through the sheer curtains covering the bedroom window, kissing your eyelids. Either way, it didn't really matter. You were more than content to be exactly where you were. After all, waking up and finding yourself tangled in your boyfriend's arms was a delightful thing, and even more so that particular morning.

Danny had returned home from a few months of extensive touring just last night and oh, how you had missed him. While a few months away from your lover seemed so trivial in comparison to the grand scheme of things, it had always felt like your world was devoid of a certain piece of joy when he was gone. Of course, if you could, you would go with him. You would sleep in a bunk and follow him to the ends of the earth and lose your hearing every night if he so much as asked you to. And, he has. However, life had its own ways and more often than not, you had to stay at home when your sweet Daniel went on tour.

Your heart ached incontestably for him when he was away, but it was these close, serene moments that made that ache more bearable.

After a few moments of moments of cherished stillness, you blinked the fuzz from your eyes and turned your head to see if Danny was awake, yet. You surmised he was still asleep; his pretty eyes were still closed and his breath was coming in slow, steady drifts. His arms--in their sleepy state of being--tightened around your middle and pulled you closer. Maybe, he was beginning to gain a bit of consciousness. But you didn't dare make it known to him that you, too, were awake. No, you wanted him to rest as long as his body would let him; he needed it.

You let your head rest comfortably against your pillow, burrowing your face into the soft cotton pillowcase and closing your eyes once more. Basking in the lovely little wave of affection his simple movement sent crashing over your heart, you sighed softly. It had been far too long since you had gotten to wake up with him by your side.

You weren't sure how much time had passed before you heard Danny's low murmur, "Honey? You awake?"

"Yeah," came your reply, as you drew your hands towards your body and weaved your fingers with his. "Sleep alright?"

Danny's forehead fell to your shoulder, his curls--made unruly by sleep--tickling the skin left uncovered by the worn hem of your pajama shirt. He pressed a few gentle kisses there, punctuated by a few soft words in response to your question, "Amazing. Missed our bed... missed you."

It was then that you decided to free yourself from his hold, unlatching your arms and untangling your legs. He let out an adorably disgruntled huff at the loss of physical contact, but you made it up to him by rolling over so that you were face to face, and embracing him again. In what was clearly yet another effort to get as close as possible, he nuzzled his nose into the skin of your neck and pressed his chest to yours.

You brought your fingers to his curls, tangling in and gently rubbing your fingertips against his scalp--just how you knew he liked it--and he gave you a little hum of appreciation. Then, you settled with each other once more, staying blissfully still and intertwined until Danny stirred again. He tilted his head upwards and planted a kiss to your jaw, then another to your cheek, and another to your temple. Before he could land another, you turned your head, causing your nose to brush against his. You saw a sweet smile form on his lips and then, he was kissing you sweetly. He held you tightly, with silver-painted fingertips digging into your skin, as if he were afraid you'd float away if he didn't keep a steady hand on you. And that was alright; you knew he had missed you, and that he needed you close. You held onto him just as tightly.

You pulled away after what was hopefully long enough for Danny to have gotten his fill. You had always found yourself a little bit dumbstruck by the fervor with which he kissed you. When you spoke, your voice came in soft puffs of air, "You wanna just say in bed?"

Danny nodded assuredly, leaning in once again, and then giving a pitiful little noise when you stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"Can I brush my teeth, first?" you asked.

"Do you have to?"

You giggled. "Well, I would like to."

"Fine." He freed you, pulling himself away and sitting up. "I guess I should, too."

So, you dutifully hauled yourself out of bed and Danny followed begrudgingly. You and Danny brushed your teeth side by side (per his sweetly-voiced request), shoulders touching and elbows bumping. When you were finished he hurried back to bed while you splashed water on your face and ran a comb through our hair. And moments later, you were back in the bedroom, settling besides Danny.

He was on you in what must have been even shorter than an instant, his lips pressed to yours and his fingers hooked beneath your jaw. You pressed you body to his, and he deepened the kiss a little with a tilt of his head. Danny kissed nothing like he played. Not raw or loud or rough. No, he kissed you ardently, as if he wanted to drink of you. You'd gladly offer to him every drop.

It wasn't long before you were practically melting in his arms, your bones going all gooey with affection and frankly, unbridled need. Beneath your fingers, you felt his muscles relax, too. At that point, the only thing keeping you and Danny upright was your desperation to have one another as close as could be.

In what was a swift and rather urgent motion, you swung a leg over his thighs--adorably clad in blue plaid pajama pants--and settled yourself in his lap. It drew from him a soft noise, and it warmed your stomach a little. It had been far too long since you'd had him like this; all willing eyes and needy hands.

He let his tongue poke at your lips, asking your permission as if you could ever deny him anything he wanted. You opened your mouth and then his tongue was slotting against yours, relearning what he'd been without for months and effectively pulling all the breath from your lungs. He tasted of minty toothpaste, and you were sure you did, as well.

Abruptly, you tore away from him to shove your fingers into his curls and tilt his head. You began to press kisses to the skin of his neck, intoxicating and still smelling pleasantly from his shower before bed. He made another one of those delicate noises of his, and it had a gush of slick flowing forth and dampening your underwear.

Unable to really help yourself, you bared your teeth right beneath his Adam's apple, biting quick and soothing the spot with your tongue. It had been too long since you'd been able to mark that lovely tan skin of his, too long since you'd been able to look at those marks with a possessive kind of pride when they peeked out from beneath the hem of his shirt. You were absolutely depraved, you realized, as you moved further down and sucked until you saw a satisfactory shade of red.

He gave a pleasured whine As much as you delighted in giving him a few marks, you knew he enjoyed receiving them even more. His pleasure was evident in the ways his cheeks were flushed and how his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth and how his breath came and went in stilted huffs.

You spoke in a sultry sigh, "It's been a while since you've had a few marks, hasn't it?" He nodded in response, you continued. "Did you miss it? Having bruises all over your pretty throat, that is."

Delighting in Danny's shuddery intake of breath, you grinned against his skin and left him with another bruise against his collarbone before pulling away to admire him. Your Daniel was precious; much more so than a glinting gem hanging from a gold chain or the sweetest and oldest bottle of red wine. No, he was as valuable as freshly-spun stardust.

And he was beautiful beyond anything you had ever seen, especially so when he was lying beneath you with your marks on his neck. When he cast his eyes upon you--as sweet as honey and oh so pliant--your core wept for him. With his messy hair and swollen lips, he was the picture of everything lascivious.

You loved him so.

"You're heavenly, Daniel, you know that?"

"Oh my gosh, baby," he objected with a bashful grin that tugged at your heartstrings a little. "If you don't stop saying things like that, this is gonna be over before it starts."

You giggled as you leaned back down and pressed your lips to his for only a moment, before slipping your fingers beneath his shirt and pushing upwards. He tossed his shirt away, before ridding you of your own. He reconnected your lips, his hands traveling hotly from the curve of your waist to the swell of your breasts. He thumbed at your nipples and the action sent little tingles racing up your spine.

When you gasped softly against his mouth, Danny pulled away and teased you, "Feeling a little sensitive?"

"Maybe a little." You shrugged, squirming as he took one of your buds between his forefinger and thumb and gave it a gentle roll.

He shifted and sat up, then began to litter kisses along your chest; between your breasts, upon your collarbone, and just above your ribs. Your eyes fell closed and you allowed yourself a moment to bask in the warmth of his lips on your skin. His kisses moved to your neck, and his hand traveled from your waist to the small of your back. Eventually, his mouth found yours again, and he kissed you with such a need that it pulled an noise from the back of your throat.

You slid one of your hands between your bodies and pushed against his chest, guiding him to lay back against the bed without your lips never once leaving his. With a steady hold on your waist, Danny drew your pelvis flush to his own. You gladly took his hint, tentatively grinding your hips into his and delighting in the feeling of his hardening cock against your core.

With a particularly firm jerk from you, Danny broke the kiss to moan sweetly against your lips. Driven by the sound, you hastened your movements and breathed out a whine in return. He worked to match your pace, rolling his hips and sending a warm rush of arousal straight to your stomach.

Then you found yourself on your back, with Danny trailing kisses along the skin of your torso as he moved downwards. Your thighs fell open and he took his place between them, swiftly slipping your sleep shorts and underwear from your body. He pulled you close with his arms wrapped around your hips, then nipped at the delicate skin of your inner thigh.

"Fuck- Danny," you whimpered out.

He chuckled a little as he bit gently again, right below your hipbone. Your hand shot down into his hair as you writhed in his hold, your chest alight with apleasured pain. He moved to your other thigh, peppering the skin there with kisses and nibbles wherever he saw fit.

"Some nights," Danny started, his thumb rubbing at your skin. "This was all I could think about."

You spread your legs wider, prompting him to continue with a breathy, "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I missed your pretty noises- and the taste..." he trailed off, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "It was fucking miserable."

"Oh, my poor baby," you breathed. "It must've been so hard to not have anything to do with that needy mouth of yours, huh?" His breathing hitched pitifully as he nodded, and your fingers tightened in his hair. "Show me how much you missed me, sweet boy."

Without another word, his tongue was between your folds and he reacquainting himself with your taste. You moaned, your head falling to the side of your pillow as your hips squirmed in his hold. His tongue worked to unravel you, sloppy and astoundingly desperate as he did. You'd missed this, too; Danny had a mouth like no other. You figured it was some sort of divine intervention to have been blessed with a man who was as eager as Danny was to take you apart with his tongue.

He sucked your clit between his lips, babying it with rapid flicks of his tongue and drawing a sharp whine from your throat.

"That- ah, Danny, that's good."

He let out a soft moan, the vibrations of the sound travelling from the bottom of your spine to the tips of your toes. He pulled away from your clit with a sloppy suckle and a rattling inhale, then dove back in. His tongue shot down with a squelch, paying special attention to your entrance with pendulous motions. Pleasantly, the tip of his nose touched your clit, drawing an unrestrained moan from your throat.

Danny returned the sound with one of his own, low and shuddery. You glanced downwards, wanting to catch a glimpse of his sweet eyes, and you did, but you also saw the desperate jerking of his hips against the mattress. The sight was too much to bear; you tossed your head back with a shaky breath and sang his praises to the ceiling, "You're doing so good, baby. Fuck- you were made to eat my cunt, weren't you?"

With a muffled, drenched groan, Danny nodded. He then angled his tongue upwards and began to lick circles over your clit, messy and determined. You felt a familiar and always-welcomed heat beginning to pool in your stomach, and you knew you were approaching your orgasm much more rapidly than you would have had it been any other night. But who could blame you? Danny's divine lips hadn't brought you any pleasure in months; you couldn't help that you were a little eager for him.

With a firm yank on the curls between your fingers, you forced him upwards and away from your core. He whimpered, his eyelids fluttering and his tongue lapping your wetness from his lips and chin. You throbbed, both from denying yourself and arousal.

"As amazing as that was, I want to come on your cock," you purred, releasing his hair and allowing him to sit up. "You want that, sweetheart?"

"Always," he whined, already hurrying to take his pants and underwear off.

Within seconds, Danny had tossed the rest of his clothes away, retrieved a condom from the bedside table, and slipped it on. He wrapped his hands around your waist and dragged you close, your thighs cradling his hips. He didn't waste a single second lining himself up and sliding in. He'd been without you for months; he couldn't bare the thought of waiting any longer. With a debauched moan that caused your stomach to stir, he buried himself to the hilt.

"Fuck," you gasped. "I forgot how pretty you sound."

Danny's response to your words was a breathy little sound, and you saw that his cheeks had flushed a silky pink. He began to move his hips, taking absolutely no time to build up to a rapid, shuddery pace of movement. With his fingernails digging oh so deliciously into your skin, he hauled you closer. He needed you as close as he could possibly manage, and that alone drove you to open you thighs to him even more as soft moans fell from your parted lips.

"You're so tight," he gasped out. "So tight and so warm and wet and- shit, honey."

He gave a brutal thrust, then, and the hard tip of his cock nudged that spot deep inside, sending bolts of pleasure up your spine. You clenched around him with a whine, reaching out for him. When your fingers found purchase on his forearm, he shook you off, and instead laced your fingers together and held them tight.

You were captivated by him, both in how he held you and how he made you feel. He was a summer's night thunderstorm, striking quick and then sounding off with pretty moans and sharp gasps. His movements were practiced, yet made unsteady by the force of his desperation. That didn't matter, though, you were just as desperate as he was, and unable to do anything but squeeze around him and bask in him, who you'd so sorely missed.

Then, he faltered. His hands abandoned their hold on you and pitched forward, bracing himself on the mattress. His pace didn't slow, however. He endured, thrusting with the same, hasty, yet shaky force. When his head dropped to rest on your collar bone, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled his chest to yours. He sang a sweet song of pleasured noises and curses into your skin and you turned your head towards his, desperate to hear more.

You could feel the tremble of his muscles between your fingers and you stroked the warm, soft skin of his back, purposefully low to run your fingers over his dimples. He was close; you knew all of his signs. You could hear it in the pitch of his voice, feel it in the wavering rhythm of his hips.

You asked, "Are you gonna come, baby?"

"Not yet- wanna keep going, honey, please. Don't want it to be over."

"Okay, baby, okay," you breathed. "Let's switch?"

Danny nodded, pushing himself up and pulling out of you with a hitched breath. He flipped over, settling up against the headboard and tugging needily at your waist. You went, swinging a leg over his hips and gently sinking down onto his weeping cock.

Once fully seated, you brushed a few stray hairs from Danny's forehead and spoke to him gently, "There we go. Is that better?"

"Yeah," Danny responded, his breath ragged.

"Good," you smiled. "Relax, sweet boy. We're gonna take it nice and slow, now."

You began to move, rising and falling leisurely, but forcefully. Noises began to tumble from Danny's lips almost instantly, and you just barely got to see his glossy eyes before he buried his face in your neck. Your core gave a tortured throb, and you stroked at his hair. You had always found it both endearing and delectable that when he felt so good he could barely stand it, he took comfort in you.

You couldn't even help yourself, then; you dropped down in a particularly hard manner and rolled your hips, allowing the blunt head of his cock to nudge fiercely against your g-spot. He let loose a lovely, broken cry, his fingertips digging into where they'd come to hold your waist. You relished in the sting of it.

You kept up, keeping your movements slow but ruthlessly firm, drawing the most delicious sounds from his mouth. They were depraved, sobbing expressions of bliss, and you had to valiantly fight against the warm tingles throughout your body and the urge to just take him hard and fast.

Much to your relief, however; it didn't take long for Danny to mumble a warning into your skin, "I'm close."

"Please, honey- please, get me there," he whimpered.

You slid your hands between your bodies and tilted his head upwards with your fingers hooked beneath his chin. His lips were parted and his eyelids hung low, looking so fucked-out, your heart skipped a beat. As you graced him with another roll of your hips, his fell shut with a breathy groan. You clicked your tongue; you wanted to see those pretty eyes of his.

"Sweetheart," you called to him. "I want you to look at me when you come. Can you do that?"

Always so willing to please, he forced his eyes open. You grinned and praised him, "Good, baby. Come whenever you're ready, okay?"

You managed to rise and fall only once more before Danny was coming hard and with a broken, honeyed cry. You worked him through it with gentle movements, all while he held you so tight, you knew there would be fingertip-shaped bruises in your skin, later. You began to slow, trying to allow him to catch his breath and come down, but he jerked his hips upwards.

"Keep going, baby, please," he rushed out. "I wanna make you come. Please? Can I, please?"

You picked up your pace again, and he sobbed beautifully from what you knew was overstimulation, but brought his hand to your core regardless. His fingers slipped between your folds and began to circle over your clit, all while you ground against his softening cock. It was rushed and sloppy and totally euphoric and you couldn't even give a warning before you reached your peak, fueled by the motions of his fingers and the wracked noises falling from his lips.

For a moment, you and Danny were nothing but still, holding each other close. And you were silent, save for the ragged intakes of breath and the barely-audible sound of your fingers roving comfortingly over each other's skin.

He was the first to break the silence, giving you a kiss and murmuring, "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too."

"Can we just... Stay here? For just a little bit."

You tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, giving him a smile. "Whatever you want, sweet boy."

[my-writings-and-musings]

hello! i loved the recent earthspark bee story so much, can i request something similar but with earthspark megatron? anything involving robot babies works honestly, such a cute concept

(i apologize if this is too vague, thank you regardless!)

I was totally hoping to get asks for more yes EXCELLENT I have been so utterly swamped I needed something self indulgent to keep my writing going!

Here's the original with Bee for those curious!!

Please enjoy some Megatron being a brand new dad and having some feelings about it.

"Shouldn't you be getting something for yourself?"

Megatron was stopped in his tracks by the almost startling sound of another's voice, having been in such a fog he'd walked right by Optimus and hadn't even realized it. Turning to find his old friend standing beside the base of the Dugout stairs, he noticed a cube of energon in his outstretched servo, and though he couldn't deny being a tad bit hungry he didn't feel ready to take the time to refuel. 

"Later, perhaps." he declined politely, looking down at the human sized tray of food cupped in his palm. Between his massive size and the elaborate spread of steaming food across the tiny surface, he didn't dare make any sudden movements, lest his mate be left without nourishment even a minute longer than necessary. With all you'd been through, he didn't feel right delaying as long as he already had. Ignoring his desire for the cube, he turned to head off for the medical bay. "Y/N needs food far more than I do."

"Is there some kind of rule that new creators can't eat at the same time?" Optimus replied with a touch of playful sass as he walked in step with his friend. Megatron would have rolled his optics at the quip and shot one back, but with his lack of fuel and sleep combined with the jubilant celebration of the past few hours, he couldn't manage anything more than an amused sigh. There was simply too much to celebrate to bother being cross, no matter how hungry or exhausted he may have become with the increasingly late hour. Optimus followed him to the medical bay, stepping as quietly as their massive frames allowed so as not to wake the Terrans sleeping in their respective rooms.

"You need to take care of yourself if you want to take care of others, old friend." the Prime advised as they left the main area, smiling all the while. Megatron sighed again, this time because he couldn't think of a rebuttal to the wisdom his friend had to offer. 

"Fair enough..." he sighed as he secured the tray in one servo and used the other to take the cube. He'd thank his friend in time, but for now there was just too much to be done, enough that he completely forgot he'd need a second limb to open the door until he realized both were now occupied.

Thankfully Optimus showed him mercy, helpfully stepping in to enter the code and command the doors to open. "Here, allow me to get the door." he offered before doing so and stepping aside. Megatron smiled himself at the gesture, grateful to have such reliable friends when he needed them most. Nodding in acknowledgement, he entered the medical bay and allowed his optics to adjust to the dimmer light as the doors sealed shut behind him, finding that little had changed in his brief absence. You were still comfortably seated on the nest of blankets he'd arranged on the padded berth in the corner of the room, your tiny form looking exhausted but not quite ready to sleep as you raised your head in response to his entrance. He caught a hint of a smile through the darkness.

"Are they sleeping?" he asked quietly as he approached, unable to completely subdue the sounds of his footsteps despite all of his efforts. 

"Sort of, he keeps slipping in and out of consciousness." you answered as you adjusted the swaddled bitlet in your arms, earning a tiny coo in the process. Megatron swiftly deposited his cube on a nearby table when you weren't looking, intending to eat later but wanting his full attention on you for the moment. Granted, his attention hadn't really left you at all in the past few hours, but that seemed fitting for a new sire performing his many duties. You caught the tray in his servo when he came to the edge of the bed, and perked up at the smell of something delicious. "Is that for me?"

"Alex insisted on preparing something fresh once I mentioned you were hungry. I'm not sure what he made, but I believe it's to your specifications." Megatron explained, trying not to chuckle at how Dorothy's husband had jumped into action the second he'd requested nourishment on your behalf. It had taken some time to prepare, but he'd trusted the Maltos to have a much better idea of what a human needed to recover from labor, even if he'd assured them you'd only asked for a snack so no one had to trouble themself. Alex hadn't even been bothered by the fact that it was the dead of night, and judging by your reaction, his cooking skills hadn't been at all diminished by a lack of sleep.

"Oh wow, he really went all out." you marveled as you beheld the impressive spread, uncertain how you'd finish it all. The sparkling in your arms reacted to the scent of food with a sleepy but curious trill, scarlet optics cracking open as he yawned and nommed on the edge of his blankets without a care in the world. Hunger and affection stirred within your stomach and heart, leaving you briefly unsure of how to proceed.

"I can bring over the bassinet, to free up your hands." Megatron offered quickly, setting the tray down a short distance from you before he turned to search for the human sized infant carrier that Dorothy had gifted the both of you. Before he could spot it amongst the piles of supplies, you shifted in your nest and spoke up to get his attention.

"Actually, do you want to hold him?"

The question, innocent as it may have been, dropped an icy chunk of fear into his stomach. Words briefly failed him as he got a hold of himself before turning around. 

"Should I?" he asked with open hesitation, looking to the sparkling and feeling a fresh burst of terror at the prospect. Though he'd been there when your little one was born, allowing you to hold his servo as he cradled you from behind and coached you through it, he hadn't yet had any more physical contact with the newborn than a brush of his digits against their tiny frame. Even that had felt wrong, as if he'd taken an unacceptable risk for his own selfish gain.

You smiled and carefully sat up, angling the bitlet so his sire had a better view. Megatron calmed a little at the confidence in your voice, the affection he had for both of you building as you reminded him of a simple fact. "I think so, he's your son, after all."

His son. That certainly was going to take a while to get used to, along with the explosive mix of emotions his newfound parenthood was stirring up every time he confronted his new reality. Returning to the berth, he pulled up a chair and sat down, looking down at the sparkling in your arms and feeling a fresh lurch of fear. His long and storied history aside, the little one was simply miniscule compared to him, and despite his natural dexterity and ease handling your own fragile form, he was worried that taking them into his grasp could be dangerous. "That is true, but are you... sure it's safe?"

"He'll be safer with you than anywhere else. Here, let me show you." you offered, encouraging him to hold out his cupped servos. As hungry as you were, you didn't rush him when he did as you asked with considerable hesitation. A brief flinch of discomfort across your face compelled him to move more confidently for your sake, his servos moving close enough to save you from any additional discomfort as you lifted the sparkling to hand him over. The bitlet cooed in confusion as he was laid down in his sire's servos, and though the sound and the weight of the tiny being sent a wave of emotion over Megatron he remained still as a statue for your instructions. "Just keep him here, like this. What's most important is supporting his helm."

Megatron nodded, but was otherwise motionless as you sat back against your pillows, the edges of his vision fading as everything beyond the sparkling briefly slipped away. The little one didn't seem at all perturbed by the move, merely curious as he blinked upwards at the massive figure looking down on him before yawning and deciding he was too sleepy to care. Bringing tiny servos to his chubby cheeks, they rubbed their bleary optics before settling back down to snooze, swaddled blankets rising and falling from their peaceful ventilations. The sight nearly sent his spark into a supernova, and he brought the tiny being to his chassis to keep them warm and protected. Pure adoration was tinted by guilt as he looked between the resting sparkling and you contentedly enjoying your meal.

After all the horrors he'd brought to Earth, all the harm he'd caused this world, it had given him you, and by extension, this little being the two of you had made together. It was an honor he could never deserve, and yet, here he was. Perhaps fate had thought fit to offer him a chance to add something to the world for a change.

He brought the little one closer to his helm, his optics stinging with tears he refused to shed as he took his first real look at his son. As hard as it was to believe he'd grow into a properly sized Cybertronian, the new sire had no trouble identifying his own features, from the crimson optics that were currently closed in rest to the shiny silver of his soft mesh. Your own features were mixed in as well, their Cybertronian equivalents expressing themselves beautifully. 

"I'll eat as fast I can, then I can take him back." you said suddenly, breaking him out of the stupor. 

"Take your time, love." he requested gently, smiling down just as the newborn worked a thumb into his mouth to suckle. All hunger and exhaustion completely forgotten, Megatron settled more comfortably in his chair, basking in the moment and forgetting all about the world beyond. His words were soft yet certain when he spoke next. "I have him, and I have you."

[pagesfromthevoid]

A Real Nightmare | a.a. | 2

Astarion x fem!tav

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Terrible flirting. Biting. Tav is horny lmao

Author’s Note: I played Baldur’s gate for 7.5 hours today AND wrote this. Fuck yeah. GIF from @rinriya

Talk to me! | Series Masterlist

“Have you ever considered –I don’t know –not being the way you are?”

Astarion scoffed, waving his hand dismissively at her question. “Please, and miss out these little moments only you and I share? Darling, I could never.”

She didn’t respond, though Astarion knew better than to assume she wouldn’t bite back a bit.

With the loss of her tent, Tav had resigned herself to sleep on her bedroll under the stars. However, that meant that she had opened herself up to being bothered by everyone and anyone walking by –and Astarion truly couldn’t help himself. She was easy to rile up, and more importantly, easy to fluster. His plan was simple enough –manipulate her into falling for him, ensure she won’t turn on him, cut her loose when the tadpole ordeal was done with.

Easy enough.

Her bite back came in the form of a jab in his ribs with her staff –a little too close for comfort as far as he was concerned.

“What in the hells was that for?” He hissed, yanking away from her as she settled back into a sitting position. Astarion held his side, sneering at the ache that bloomed just below his ribcage.

“For being annoying.”

“Oh, I’m sorry –here I thought I was entertaining your little crush.”

“Crush? Crush?” She looked at him incredulously, as if the very thought of having an inkling of romantic feelings for him was impossible. Astarion, of course, knew better. He could smell the blood that rushed through her when he flirted. “In your bloody dreams!”

It was just too easy to flirt. “Oh, you are always in my dreams, my love.”

"Your dreams; my nightmares," she retorted, her tone laced with a teasing edge. She moved closer to him too, unable to keep herself from his orbit.

He chuckled, rubbing his side where she had jabbed him with the staff. "Ah, you wound me, my dearest Tav. I thought you'd at least consider joining me in the realm of dreams."

Tav rolled her eyes, but Astarion could see the little smile that threatened to tug at the corner of her lips. He had her right where he wanted as he shifted his weight, resting on his side as he peered up at her.

"Considering it and actually doing it are two very different things," she replied, her smirk growing more pronounced.

Astarion rested his head in his palm, looking up at her through his lashes. She swallowed hard, and he knew he had her.

“Admit it, Tav. There's a spark, a certain...fascination."

She raised an eyebrow, refusing to give him the satisfaction. "Fascination with annoyance, perhaps."

He grinned, undeterred. "Or maybe with the enigmatic rogue sitting right next to you."

“You’re right, Astarion,” she sighed dramatically, putting her hand over her heart for a moment. He sat up properly now, close enough that his arm brushed hers.

Astarion narrowed his eyes slightly, cocking his head to the side as she got closer to him than ever before. Her hand reached up and touched his jaw lightly. For a moment, he was surprised by her response, by her sudden touch. It was soft against his cheek –not teasing, not caressing. Just impossibly soft hands on his skin, and Astarion had to keep himself from shivering.

“I am fascinated by you. Overwhelmingly, obsessively fascinated…,” Astarion, by instinct, leaned in closer –he could feel her breath on his lips, and for a moment he wondered how she would taste on his tongue. But then she gently smacked him on the cheek and pulled away, “by how self-indulgent you are.”

Astarion blinked in surprise, the gentle smack breaking the spell he was under. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind in those few seconds, trying to process that she had bested him in the art of flirting. And while he was certain she wasn’t doing it to trick him (Tav was far too nice for that, he had learned over the last few days), it was still a shock to his system.

This wouldn’t do; he was supposed to be manipulating her –not the other way around.

Tav smirked, savoring the moment of triumph she seemingly had over him. "You see, Astarion, fascination doesn't always lead to adoration. Sometimes, it just leads to more creative ways to put you in your place."

The vampire, still rubbing his cheek with a bemused expression, chuckled. "Well played, you cheeky little thing. I must say, you do have a talent for keeping me on my toes."

“If you two are done flirting,” Karlach cackled, throwing a piece of bread at Tav’s head. She grumbled a bit, looking over her shoulder at the tiefling while the blood rushed to her cheeks. Embarrassed that she had been caught flirting with him, no doubt. “I think it’s time for Fangs there to take watch so we can get some rest.”

Tav pulled away from Astarion entirely then, giving the tiefling her undivided attention with a friendly nod and a smile. He, however, was staring at Tav and the blush that had crept its way up her body. It made his jaw ache with need –not a lustful need, but a hunger-pained one that he knew he would need to deal with when everyone had gone to sleep.

Finally, he broke his gaze from her and stood, offering his hand to her like he had the other day. Tav took it with a smile, pulling herself up —though this time she pulled away sooner than before.

“Goodnight, Astarion,” she called over her shoulder, waving at him as she followed Karlach to her tent to change. “Wake me if you need a break!”

He wouldn’t be waking her though. Not tonight —not if he wanted to build his strength properly.

*****

Sleep had proven to be elusive, slipping through her grasp like sand through fingers, leaving her restless throughout the night. Since the crash landing, a peaceful night's sleep had become a rare commodity. It wasn't solely due to the unfamiliarity of sleeping on the ground or exposure to the elements; an underlying unease persisted. The constant presence of the worm writhing behind her eye seemed to amplify with each passing moment, as if determined to delve deeper into the recesses of her brain. The combination of the unusual environment, the uneasiness of her new companions, and the tadpole just made sleeping impossible, even with her eyes closed.

As the night wore on, the restlessness in her bones refused to abate. Unbeknownst to her, Astarion had been silently stalking in the periphery, drawn by the tantalizing scent of her blood. In her restlessness, a voice whispered in her ear –Open your eyes, my dear. Do not let him take without asking. Perhaps it was a bad dream making her feel anxious, and she forced her eyes open to avoid furthering any nightmares that wanted to creep their way into her mind.

Except the nightmare seemed to be real as her sleep deprived eyes focused on fangs, then ruby red eyes, then finally Asterion's horrified look of realization that he had been caught.

“What in the hells are you doing?” She practically screamed, scrambling out of her bedroll as Astarion pulled away with his hands up.

“Shush, please –I wasn’t going to hurt you, I swear –I just…I needed blood and I –,”

“Thought you could just have some of mine?” She finished for him, pushing herself off the ground.

For a moment, Astarion looked panicked; scared even. And while that tugged on her heartstrings a little bit, it wasn’t enough to wet the flames of anger that were swirling around inside her.

“I just needed a taste,” he explained, voice shaking some as he tried to defend himself.

“How long has it been since you killed someone? Days? Hours?”

“Please,” he begged, shaking his head now. “I feed on animals –bears, boar, kobolds. But I’m weak, and if we’re going to keep up the way we are…I need something more. Something stronger.”

Tav contemplated Astarion’s desperate plea, her heart torn between concern and the growing sense of connection with the vampire before her. A flicker of empathy softened her gaze as she sighed, finally giving into her desire to help over hindering him further.

“Fine,” she agreed, her voice gentle yet firm. She pointed at him, as if scolding him. “But only if you promise to ask next time. I want to help you, Astarion, but I can’t have you draining the life out of me. We’re a team in this mess, and I’d rather you take a little from me than risk going after something more dangerous.”

Astarion’s eyes widened in a mix of surprise and gratitude, his usually guarded demeanor momentarily giving way to a genuine expression of thanks. He nodded earnestly, the weight of her trust not lost on him.

“Thank you, Tav,” he replied, his voice touched with sincerity. “I promise, next time I’ll ask. No more midnight surprises.”

She nodded once, looking around for a moment to ensure their friends were still asleep. Then she motioned to her throat, baring it to him. “Okay…well, have at it, then.”

He chuckled darkly, unable to help himself, before reaching out to touch her waist gently. “Let’s make it a bit more comfortable for you, darling. Lay down.”

His touch against her waist only aided in the blood rushing to her cheeks, and she was suddenly very aware that he knew that. There was no way Astarion didn’t know how much he flustered her, or how easily he made her blush. And somehow that made her blush even harder.

But Tav simply nodded, ignoring the embarrassment as she laid back in her bedroll and closed her eyes. Her heart beat fast in her ears, pounding as she felt Astarion’s body hover over her’s —felt his mouth just barely touching her throat before finally piercing her with his bite. Her eyes squeezed shut, her hands shooting up to grip his biceps in surprise.

The pain, however, was short lived and was soon replaced by a strangely warm feeling that pooled in her belly as she became lost of the feel of his mouth on her throat. There was no helping the sound that escaped her lips —a soft moan that caused Astarion to tense up momentarily as he drained her of her blood.

Her fingers loosened on his biceps as he continued to drink, and while the pain was turning into something far more, she did her best to push him off of her.

“Astarion,” she murmured, voice cracking as he pulled away sharply.

For a moment, he hovered over her as if trying to catch his breath; to return to his senses. Her neck throbbed where he bit, and though her vision was a bit hazy, she saw a drop of blood slip down the corner of his mouth. Without thinking, she lifted a heavy hand to his lips and wiped the blood away with her thumb.

“I hope I taste good,” she sighed, admiring the fresh crimson on her finger tip. Her body felt heavy, and she was sure sleep was going to overcome her at any moment.

Astarion lifted her thumb to his mouth, tempted to bite once more but instead kissing the blood off her finger. “You have…no idea.”

Finally, he pulled away from her and stood slowly, taking a deep breath. Tav sat up weakly, closing her eyes for a moment to stop her head from spinning.

“Get some rest,” he ordered, turning away from her. “I need to find something a little more filling.”

He stepped away, but stopped, glancing over his shoulder. “This was a gift, you know,” he reassured, voice soft and sincere. “I won’t forget it.”

Tav was inclined to believe that.

[cre8inghavoc]

What are friends for?

PT. 8

Status: ongoing!!

Updates: no set date.

WC: 4154

Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader

Genre/Warnings:[18+] Characters are aged up. This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drug use, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU.

Recap:

"Where the hell is this stupid class?" you mutter under your breath, frustration mounting with each passing second.

With your mind solely focused on finding your class, you fail to notice the person standing directly in your path. Before you can react, you run right into them, the impact jolting you back to reality.

Stumbling backward, he reaches out to steady you, his hands gently settling on your waist, you look up to apologize, only to freeze in shock as you lock eyes with the person before you.

"Megumi?" you blurt out, unable to hide your surprise as you take in his familiar features and all-black attire.

His expression remains impassive at first, but as his gaze meets yours, recognition flashes in his eyes.

“Y/n?”

You become acutely aware of the situation: his hand on your waist, yours resting on his chest. If anyone stumbled upon this scene, they'd undoubtedly mistake you for a couple practically about to kiss. Stepping back, you clear your throat, trying to shake off the embarrassment that flushes your cheeks. Thankfully, he can't see your face, so you're spared from the embarrassment of him witnessing your cheeks turn bright red.

Despite the inner voice telling you otherwise, you can't help but feel drawn to gaze at him, captivated by his undeniable charm. Dressed in black sweatpants and a snug shirt that highlights his physique, he looks like he just walked out of the gym — with tousled hair, toned arms, and abs peeking through the fabric. And don’t even get me started on his arms and how his veins pop out- What the fuck y/n! Snap out of it! What am I even thinking? I can't let myself indulge in these feelings anymore. He's made it crystal clear he's not interested. It's time to move on.

"What are you doing here?" he questions, a hint of confusion in his tone.

"I go here... Why, are you following me?" you retort, mirroring his confusion.

"How could I be following you if you're the one who ran into me? You stalking me?" He teases, a smirk playing on his lips.

"What? No! Don't flatter yourself," you reply, your tone sharper than intended. His joke strikes a nerve, perhaps because you're still upset and disappointed about him not showing up at the park. It feels like a sign that whatever you two had is now over, yet here he is, acting as if nothing happened.

"Well, I go here too and I've never seen you around, so..." he counters.

"Whatever, Megumi, I'm gonna be late for class, so can you please piss off," you reply, frustration evident in your tone. You don't want to be mean to him, but anger seems to be consuming you. You walk past him, only for him to turn around and gently grab your wrist.

"Y/n, wait..." he says, concern lacing his voice.

"What do you want?" you retort sharply.

"Why are you being like that?"

"Like what?" You take offense to his question. What does he mean by "why am I being like that"?

"I don't know... cold? upset? I didn't mean to offend you if I did... I just didn't realize you went here..." he explains, his tone softening.

"If you must know, I just transferred here from my other school. Now, can I go back to finding my class?" you say, pulling your hand away and continuing to walk.

"Wait!" he says, grabbing your wrist again. "What room number is it? I can help you."

"Megumi, can you please just stop," you say, a little annoyed.

"Stop what?" he says, confused.

"This," you reply.

"This what? I don't get it..."

"Stop trying to pretend like you care or be nice to me because you feel bad."

"Pretend? Feed bad? What the hell are you talking about?"

"See, you're doing it right now. You made it quite clear you want nothing to do with me, so just leave me alone, okay?" Your tone is angrier than before.

"Y/n, no—“

"She said leave her alone, bro." A tall man with a deep voice appears, cutting Megumi off. He's probably just as tall as Megumi, but a little more buff. Megumi lets go of your wrist, and you back up a little, watching the two boys walk towards each other, staring one another down. You stare at Megumi, knowing his intention but hoping he doesn't do anything stupid. As you glance at the other man, he seems somewhat familiar... You examine his face, and just based on the way they're both looking at each other, it's obvious what's about to go down.

"Guys, it's okay, please—” you begin, attempting to separate them before they escalate the situation further.

"Get behind me," Megumi interrupts, his hand gently pushing you back and you comply, even though you're not sure why you're still listening to him.

"What are you gonna do, huh?" He spits back.

"Watch who you talk to," Megumi smirks.

"Guys, please... I said it's okay, can you two please stop!" you plead desperately.

Their voices start to draw attention as this unfolds in front of a few classrooms, with students peeking out from the doorways. Among them is Todo, one of Itadori’s best friends who also happens to be friends with Yuta and Toge. He quickly realizes what's happening and storms out of his class to help stop the situation before the teachers intervene.

"Y/N?" Todo shouts out, rushing towards you.

"Todo?" You look at him as he catches up to where you're standing.

"What the hell is going on?" Todo asks you, clearly perplexed.

"Y/n?" the other man says with confusion and shock, peeking behind Megumi's shoulder to see you. Stepping off to the side from behind Megumi, you stare at him in confusion.

Todo's attention is suddenly drawn to the familiar voice, and he looks at the person in front of Megumi.

The way he said your name feels incredibly familiar, as if you've heard this person's voice before. He just seems so familiar... with his low, deep voice, long black hair, heavy eyebags, and low eyes. And that line tattoo on the bridge of his nose down to the middle of his cheek.

"Choso?" Todo looks at him, baffled, and Choso returns the look with a smile.

"C-Choso?" you question, walking up to him.

"Long time no see, huh?" he says, smiling at you. You smile back and rush in for a hug, which he returns, resting his chin on your head.

As Megumi and Todo stand there, perplexed by the unexpected reunion between you and Choso, you're too engrossed in catching up with Choso to notice the tension building around you. If you were to glance at Megumi now, you'd see the anger in his eyes, the way he's glaring at Choso with increasing intensity. It's evident that he despises the way Choso is holding you close, resting his chin on your head. Perhaps it's out of jealousy, but you're too focused on Choso to realize Megumi's "death" glare.

Meanwhile, Choso takes a step back, his hands still resting on your shoulders as he gazes at you, then briefly glances up at Megumi. He notices the furrowed eyebrows and the intense glare directed at both of you. With a smirk at Megumi's expression, Choso turns his attention back to you, locking eyes once more.

“You've grown so much, I almost couldn’t recognize you. You look so beautiful.” Choso says looking you up and down.

“Oh.. thanks cho! I could say the same for you… you’ve been working out?” you point out his physique which only makes Choso smirk more. 

“Yup, like what you see” He winks at you.

“Omg shut up” you say, rolling your eyes playfully and giggling. 

Megumi couldn't bear continue to witness the apparent flirtation between you and Choso any longer. Something inside him boils, and he kicks himself off the wall, striding up to you and wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. You're aware of what he's doing, and you know you should be angry with him, especially after he didn't show up at the park, leaving you to believe he didn't want you. But when you feel his body pressed against yours and his hand around your waist, you can't help but feel flustered, melting into his touch. Does he actually want you? Was the park situation just a misunderstanding? Is he jealous, or are you just being delusional? Would he be doing this if things were good between you two? God, why does this have to be so difficult and messy... You notice the way Choso and Todo look at you and Megumi, and you can't help but feel embarrassed by the situation.

"What are you doing here?" Todo walks up to Choso, ready to greet him.

"Just passing through the area for a few hours, so I wanted to come by and see old friends," Choso responds.

"Didn't know Y/n went here," Todo says, glancing at you as you're still in Megumi's arms.

"I just transferred; today's actually my first day," you explain.

"How do you two know each other?" Megumi asks, annoyance evident in his tone.

"We were childhood best friends, haven’t seen him in years!" You smile at Choso, and he returns the smile.

Megumi responds with only a hum and a nod before a teacher steps outside and instructs you all to get back to class.

The grip around your waist loosens, then completely disappears as Megumi takes a step back. All you can think about is how you already miss his touch, yearning for more, wishing you could stay in his presence just a little bit longer. But you have to get to your class, and so does everyone else, except Choso, who's heading out anyways. You say your goodbyes to him and hug him one last time, but when you turn back around, Megumi's already gone, leaving you with only Todo.

"Where's Megumi?" you ask, scanning the area.

"Went to class, I guess. What happened, by the way?" Todo inquires.

"I'll be honest, I don't even know... One minute I'm trying to find my class, the next Choso and Megumi practically get into a fight, and for what? No idea. What a great way to start my day, right?!" you respond, feeling stressed.

"Well, I can tell you what it seemed like to me," Todo begins.

"And how's that, Todo?"

"Looked like Megumi was jealous of the way you were close to Choso, and it seemed like Choso realized that and tried to piss him off more."

"Why would Megumi be jealous?!" You ask, thoroughly confused.

"Is it not obvious?" Todo responds, clearly shocked.

"What do you mean?" you press.

"Damn, Y/n, anyone could see it from a mile away."

"The hell does that even mean?" you respond, feeling even more confused.

He facepalms, then starts to walk away.

"Todo! .... Todo!!!" you shout after him, but he just keeps walking.

"TODO!" you call out again, but he slips back into class.

"UGH! Can this day just get any worse?" you mutter to yourself, feeling frustrated.

After a few minutes of searching, you finally found your class, only being five minutes late. The teacher didn't mind at all since he understood how confusing it could be to find classrooms on your first day. He was a pretty cool teacher, very nice and calm. You finished your first two classes and had a two-hour break until your next one, just like your friends. Obviously, you made your schedules similar to theirs so you could all go out for lunch.

You finally met up with your friends, and you all decided to go to a nearby cafe just down the street from the school. It had recently opened up, and you were all excited to try it out. Laughing and talking, you walked there together, and upon stepping inside, you were all amazed by the decor and how beautiful it looked. Choosing a booth to sit in, you all ordered croissants. You opted for a vanilla iced latte, as did Maki. Yuta and Toge couldn't decide between regular lattes, cappuccinos, or iced lattes, so they ended up getting the same thing as you and Maki, and they were not disappointed. 

You all sat at the booth, chilling and enjoying your drinks, until you noticed Maki's girlfriend, Nobara, walking up to the counter to order. You waved at her, and she smiled back, coming over to join your group. Maki turned around, noticing your attention on someone, and when she saw Nobara, she got up, happy to see her, and hugged her, then kissed her.

"What are you doing here, baby?" Maki said, pulling Nobara in by her waist and holding her close.

"We just wanted to check out this new cafe!" Nobara replied, looking behind her as Megumi and Itadori walked towards her. However, they both didn't notice your friend group, as they were too distracted arguing with each other about who knows what.

You hadn't noticed Megumi and Itadori coming in; you were too focused on enjoying your food. However, when you finally glanced up and saw Megumi, your face dropped. He looked away from Itadori and locked eyes with you, both of you visibly shocked. Everyone around you couldn't help but notice the tension between you both, their gazes darting back and forth between you.

Little did you know, Nobara and Maki had actually arranged this whole situation. They planned for you to go out to a cafe, and then Nobara would join along with her friends, just to see how you and Megumi would act towards each other. Feeling the awkwardness intensify, you quickly stood up from your seat. Looking back at your group, you both simultaneously said, "Nope, I gotta go." Then, as if on cue, you both looked back at each other and repeated, "No, I'm gonna go." Itadori looked at you both in complete shock.

"What the hell is going on with you two?" he said, clearly confused.

"What do you mean? Nothing is going on!" you say to Itadori, though it's clear you're lying to him.

"Course there isn't," Megumi says with his regular grumpy voice. You glare at him, and he glares back. 

"Uh... yeah, sure, totally believable," Itadori says, rolling his eyes.

 "Can you just spit it out already?" Maki says, hinting at Megumi to apologize to you for not showing up at the park.

Megumi shifts uncomfortably under Maki's gaze, then lets out a heavy sigh. "Fine. I'm sorry for not showing up on time at the park," he grumbles, still looking somewhat annoyed.

You nod, acknowledging his apology, but the tension between you two remains palpable. Everyone knows about the park situation, but they also sense that there's more to the tension between you and Megumi. After all, there wouldn't be this level of anger if it were just about the park.

"Cool! Can I leave now?" you ask, looking back at Maki with your arms crossed, clearly not forgiving Megumi.

"No, not until this is resolved," Itadori says firmly.

"Megumi, what type of apology is that?" Maki responds, her tone slightly scolding.

"Do I have to apologize in front of you guys?" Megumi retorts, his frustration evident in his voice.

"Uhm, yeah? How else are we going to even know if you actually are?" Itadori responds, his tone firm. Nobara, Toge, and Yuta watch with amusement, clearly intrigued by the unfolding drama.

"Right," Megumi says, annoyed, pinching his eyebrows together. "Look, Y/n, I didn’t see your message on time. I was out running errands, and my phone was on 'do not disturb.' When I finally saw it, it was already 6:55 pm. I tried calling you a few times, but your phone was off. I did go to the park, but I got there at 7:15, and I guess you had already left by then. I tried calling you again after that, but I guess you blocked me... I'm really sorry I didn’t make it on time. If I had seen your message earlier, I would’ve been there on time. I’m sorry." Megumi's apology sounds genuine.

"Oh..." was all you were able to say. After hearing what Megumi said, you were baffled. Honestly, you didn't expect that response at all. It made you feel... important again. It kind of made you happy to realize that he actually did come to the park. But it seemed like something was still bothering him, because after apologizing, he just sat down beside Itadori and didn’t look at you again. You glanced up at him a few times while you were all out, but he never once looked at you. It felt like he was trying to avoid you, but for what reason? The tension between you two lingered, and it was clear that there was still more to be resolved.

Everyone talked and shared laughs while you were in the cafe, except Megumi, who barely said a word. Apparently, that was normal for him, but you had never seen him like that before. And you, usually the happy person who always talks to everyone, were quieter than normal. Yuta and Toge picked up on it pretty fast, but they figured it was because of the whole situation with Megumi. They weren't wrong though… but they hated seeing this side of you. 

It's been two months since you all went to that cafe together, meaning it's been two months of you and Megumi not talking to each other. You'd see each other in the halls from time to time, but it just felt... weird. Like it seems as if he is avoiding you. No, he is avoiding you. 

Within those two months, you've gotten super close to Itadori. You found out that the two of you actually have a lot in common, and you'd both hang out a few times a week. Sometimes Yuta and Toge would come to hang out too, while Maki and Nobara are always together. It makes you happy that you're all friends, except the one thing that upsets you is that Megumi isn't there. He isn't talking to you, and every time you're over at their house hanging out with Itadori and Megumi comes home, he just heads straight upstairs and locks his door, completely ignoring your presence. And you don't even know what to do anymore. You don’t understand why he's avoiding you, but it hurts so damn bad.

This time, the sting of rejection cut a little deeper. You, Itadori, and Toge were all hanging out at Itadori's place when Megumi arrived home from his last class. As he entered the house, his gaze swept over the living room where you three were engrossed in video games. Gaining courage, you decided to greet him, but Megumi simply glanced at you all before retreating upstairs to his room, as if you were invisible. It was a small gesture, but it weighed heavily on your heart, making you roll your eyes in annoyance.

Sensing the tension, Itadori and Toge exchanged a concerned glance before swiftly diverting the conversation.

"I'm starving, you guys wanna grab some pizza?" Itadori's stomach growled audibly, prompting laughter from you and Toge.

"Yeah, I'm down for some pizza too!" Toge chimed in.

"You ordering, Itadori?" you asked.

"Nah, let's go pick it up. I'm too hungry to wait," Itadori replied eagerly.

"Ugh, can I just stay here and wait for you guys to come back? I'm feeling lazy," you grumbled, feeling drained.

"That's cool. Oh, and ask Megumi if he wants anything too," Itadori said, shooting you a pointed look.

"Why me?" you protested, taken aback.

"Because you're the one staying behind!" Itadori replied with a mischievous grin, while Toge chuckled.

"Why can't Toge do it?" you countered.

"Because we're leaving now, and you can let us know when he responds. Bye!" Toge said, already halfway out the door with Itadori.

"Fuck you’ve gotta be kidding me.” you mutter to yourself, as you walk up the familiar staircase. Reaching Megumi's door, you knock, feeling a mix of nerves and frustration bubbling inside.

You hear Megumi open the door from his bathroom and approach. As he opens the door, you see he's holding a towel, ruffling it through his hair. At first, you're looking down, but your gaze slowly moves up, and your face turns bright red as your eyes widen. Holy shit-

He's standing there shirtless, wearing only shorts, with his wet hair indicating he just got out of the shower. Water droplets glisten on his chest, and even though you knew he was in good shape, seeing him actually shirtless makes you feel flustered. You quickly look away, embarrassed for staring for so long.

"Uhm... sorry, I didn’t mean to-I mean, I didn’t know-”

"All good," Megumi cuts you off, his expression nonchalant and his tone cold, which catches you by surprise. Lost in thought, you're interrupted as Megumi asks again, "What’s up? You need something?" He throws his towel over his shoulder and he leans against the door frame.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Itadori and Toge are on their way to get pizza. They were wondering if you wanted any..." you say, feeling a bit awkward.

"Oh, nah, I'm good, thanks," he replies.

"Okay..." You stare at him for a moment, and he notices, prompting him to ask, "Anything else?"

"No..."

"Doesn’t really seem like that..." he observes, noting your lingering presence.

"I just... why are you being like that...?" you ask him, feeling a little sad.

"Like what? I didn’t do anything," he retorts.

"Like cold..."

"What do you mean? I’m always like this," he replies.

"No, you're not. Not to me... I thought we were okay after the apology, but you just kept trying to avoid me... We haven’t talked in two months... Why, Megumi?" you say, your voice tinged with sadness.

"Why don’t you just go talk to Choso?" he suggests.

"What?! Is that what this is about?" you scoff.

"No clue what you’re talking about," he says, clearly annoyed.

"Megumi..." you start, but he hums in response.

"Are you jealous?" you ask, a little surprised, teasing him.

"No, I’m not," he says, his face serious as always.

"Don’t lie to me. You are jealous!"

"What do you want, y/n?" he says, attempting to change the subject, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"I want you to admit it and tell me why you’ve been avoiding me," you say back, crossing your arms.

"What are you trying to get at? There’s nothing to admit," he says tersely.

"So you’re telling me the reason you’ve been avoiding me has nothing to do with Choso," you question him.

"Mhm," he replies, rolling his eyes.

"I just don’t believe you," you tease him further.

"Alright, fine. Yeah, I was jealous. You happy now?" he says angrily, stepping back into his room, about to close the door. But you quickly take a step forward, putting one hand out to keep his door open, and you step into his room, closing the door behind you.

"Why? I don’t understand what there is to be jealous of..." you say, genuinely oblivious to the situation.

"God, Y/N, did you just come here to just fucking argue?" he spits back.

"No, Megumi, I just don’t understand you! I don’t understand why the fuck you’re avoiding me and why the fuck you’re acting like an asshole right now!" you snap back, now angry yourself.

"Don’t you get it?" he retorts.

"Get what? I don’t fucking get shit," you reply, your tone escalating.

"Are you that oblivious?" he challenges.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? What are—" you start, but he cuts you off mid-sentence.

"I fucking like you," he confesses, his words leaving you stunned. It's not what you were expecting. You thought he was going to tell you he no longer wanted to be friends, but this... This was definitely better than anything you could’ve imagined.

"What—“ Your mouth drops, speechless at the unexpected revelation. 

"I have since the day I took you home from the club..." he adds.

Flooded with so many emotions, you’re unsure of what’s happening, but one thing is clear: you want him. You want him more than ever. You’ve missed his touch, craved it, longed for him. And before you know it, your legs move on their own, as if you have no control over your body. Without hesitation, you rush to him and lean in, kissing him desperately. One hand finds its place on his cheek as you press your lips against his, to which he responds with a groan. At first, he’s stiff, clearly not expecting your bold move, but then he starts to kiss you back with hunger, and you reciprocate, matching his intensity.

Suddenly, you feel his hands on your waist, pulling you closer and pressing you against the wall behind you, the kiss unbroken. A soft moan escapes your lips as your back meets the cool wall, sending shivers down your spine. Your free hand finds its way to his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, stirring a sensation you can’t quite explain… The heat between your legs intensifies with each passing moment of the kiss, a fire burning within you. 

Megumi’s grip on your waist tightens slightly, eliciting yet another moan from you, making him smirk against your lips. “Missed that fucking voice of yours,” he murmurs in a deeper tone, sending a wave of heat coursing through your body once again. His words, dripping with desire, only serves to fuel the flames of passion between you, leaving you both consumed by the intoxicating heat of the moment.

finally they apologized 🙄

this lowkey might be one of fav parts bc it was so fun to write…

but i’m so excited to write the next part 😗🤭

TAGLIST <3

@lavender-hvze @xbarrjallenx @atinymonbebestay @1l-ynn @chilichopsticks @dr-fluff-meow @lost-resonance @maya-maya-56 @ichorstainedskin @luciiferslover @madaqueue @vanitywoo

[sweetsreverie]

Lunch Visitor

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x Professor!Reader Requested? Nope, this is a little self-indulgent piece tbh Plot: Aesop has been stopping by your classroom during lunch lately.

Aesop started coming to your classroom during lunch a week ago. He didn't stop by every day, but every few days or so. It was curious, and you were wondering why he suddenly had free time to visit you. During lunch, he normally tended to his duties in the classroom while the students were away for a while.

The first time he came by, he asked you about a potential new potion he was thinking about teaching to his students. You gave him your opinion of course, but instead of leaving after getting an answer, he stayed and sat with you for the remainder of lunchtime.

Today when he stopped by, you were sipping on some tea made from a tea blend that Mirabel had given you, and munching on some custard tarts while you worked on grading the arithmancy homework your students had turned in.

"Did you come by to help me grade this homework?" You call out when you hear the door open, because although your back was turned to it, you knew it was Aesop.

"There's a reason I chose to teach potions and not arithmancy," Aesop replies as he approaches the table you're working at, and you can't help but grin at his words. Normally that's the closest thing to humor you're going to get out of him.

You turn to look up at him as he sits down, and you offer him a soft smile before you motion to the tea pot that was sitting nearby.

"Tea?" You ask, and he gives you a silent nod before you begin to pour him a cup, and you slide it and the saucer over to him. "Mirabel made the blend for me. It's delightful," You tell him as you lean back in your seat, and watch him take a drink from his cup. He looks pleased with it.

"You know, you always tell your students that you're too busy to speak when class isn't in session. But you have time to sit here with me?" You ask him more as a joke, but you could swear you heard him chuckle.

"Perhaps I'd rather spend my free time with you than entertaining their questions that I've answered countless times," He tells you with a slight raise of his eyebrows, and you were just hoping he would miss the blush that rose to your cheeks.

"What are you trying to tell me, Aesop?" You ask him, hoping you would be able to get more out of him.

He actually chuckles then, and he takes another drink of his tea before he sets down the little cup. By now he has an... affectionate look in his eyes.

"I'm trying to tell you that I'd like to see you outside of work, Y/N. Let me take you out one day,"

While you were hoping for this response from him, you couldn't help but still feel surprised by it. You send him a little nod, and he smirks slightly before he leans forward and snags a tart from your plate.

"Splendid. And I'm going to take one of these since you depleted my stash of toffees that were in my desk," He tells you, and your eyes widen slightly; you didn't think he would notice that you would take one... or a few when you would stop by the potions classroom.

[nostalgiclittlespace]

Request: Care giver! Lilith and little! Lucifer (Hazbin hotel)

Plot: Lucifer being in little space and Lilith taking care of her baby (he’d be 0-2 years old), just lots of fluff please 💕

Thanks so much for the ask, anon! Sorry for the short delay in getting this out, but I hope you enjoy! (Also it seems like all of my agere fics end with sleepy cuddles 😭 aka Self indulgence. Luci was also very neurodivergent coded. Again, self indulgence)

SFW AGE REGRESSION FIC, DNI IF KINK, NSFW, PROSHIP, OR SIMILAR. DO NOT REPOST.

Title: The Cutest King of Hell

Word Count: 1249

Pairing: CG! Lilith x Little! Lucifer

Description: Playtime and a picnic for Little Luci! (Fluff!)

The Cutest King of Hell

Lucifer.  A daring, intelligent, cunning creature.  The first to introduce evil and disobedience to the so perfect human kind.  He had once been an angel, hand-crafted by God, and cast away from his first home.  But now, he was a king, the most powerful being in Hell…

But he also happened to be the cutest.

Lilith huffed affectionately as Lucifer pushed his rubber ducks along the floor.  Laying on his stomach, pacifier between his lips, white and yellow onesie equipped–no one could argue that he wasn’t just the sweetest, most innocent being Hell had ever seen.

Especially not Lilith.

She too sat on the floor, pushing the rubber ducks back towards Lucifer, as if they were swimming back down the lake of his pale blue playmat.  There were many other creatures along for the adventure too of course.  Some frogs, fish, and even a couple plastic dinosaurs had made it into Lucifer’s imaginary world.

Lilith knew all about the fallen angel’s imagination and creativity of course.  Perhaps it was the thing she adored most about him.  He could create infinite stories, creatures, and worlds in that perfect mind of his.  Even when regressed as young as this, he managed to maintain a clear enough objective in his play.  If his babbling was anything to go by, the ducks were meeting the dinos and toads for a picnic on a faraway island.  Called Ducky Island of course.

“What’s the duck say, Luci?” Lilith quizzed with a smile as she pushed one towards him to join the other rubber figures at their meet-up.

“Qwak!” the baby exclaimed, pushing it along.  “Qwak, qwak, qwak!”

Though the mimicry was muffled by the silicone in his mouth, his confidence and pride in the answer was evident by his eyes crinkling into a smile.

“That’s right,” Lilith smiled as well.

The Queen of Hell reached for the toy bin, where they kept all of Lucifer’s play toys.  FIshing around, it only took a moment for her fingers to land on yet another duckling.

“Here’s James Pond.  Is he going to the party too?”

“Yeah!” Luci giggled.  “Swim, swim, swim.”

“Off he goes, swimming and swimming,” Lilith agreed, pushing the tuxedo-wearing rubber duck in a circle then towards Lucifer.

Lucifer took over, gliding the duck in smooth patterns across the playmat.  Lilith watched, enjoying the play’s serenity.  Hell, a place of violence and punishment, didn’t see moments as simple as this.  If she were to simply step onto her doorstep, blood, swears, and devastation would greet her.  Inside however, in the nursery she had designed to protect from the horrors, the R-rated nonsense wouldn’t exist.  Here, the most complicated thing was figuring out how to keep Lucifer entertained for more than ten minutes.

“Looks like that picnic needs some food, Luci,” Lilith remarked, pointing to the congregation at ‘Ducky Island.’  “What would they like to eat?”

“Apple,” Lucifer replied, lining up several frogs with the other guests.

“How about apples with peanut butter?” Lilith suggested.

“Yummy!  And cookies?”  

“Of course.  Would you like to help me get it?”

“Mhm!”

Lucifer smiled behind his pacifier, placing the very last duck at the picnic gathering.  Then, using his hands for balance, he pushed himself to his feet with the grace of a baby deer.    

Lilith stood along with him, borrowing the elegance of a great stag.  Lucifer immediately grabbed her hand.  Holding himself close to her, he lightly leaned into her side for balance.  Lilith took it in stride, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as they ambled towards the kitchen.

  The plush carpet beneath their feet, the perfect crimson walls, and the occasional abandoned toy paved the way through the castle.  Lucifer’s babbling filled the royals’ desolate hallways.  An innocent, adorable sound, a stark contrast to the endless curses that would envelop anywhere else in Hell. 

Soon, Lucifer and Lilith arrived at the kitchen.  Like the nursery, it held all Lucifer’s essentials.  Baby bottles lined the countertops.  Several sippy cups and plastic plates had been abandoned in the sink to be washed.

“Let’s get your picnic and bring it back to Ducky Island,” Lilith said.

Even if he would inevitably make a mess of crumbs and peanut butter on his playmat, seeing the joy Hell’s little king derived from his picnics and play made the mess worth it.  

So, Lilith grabbed a couple apples from the pantry, along with a jar of peanut butter and a package of his favorite cookies.  Lucifer watched with big eyes and a smile beneath his pacifier.  He already extended his hands, silently requesting a sweet treat.

“Not until you finish your healthy food,” Lilith chastised lightly, tapping his nose playfully.  “Come on, let’s get your picnic ready.

Luckily, Lucifer wouldn’t have to wait long.  Within a minute, Lilith had sliced the apples and arranged them in the shape of a swan.  Luci’s eyes grew wide and lustered as he watched the snack take shape.  With a scoop of peanut butter plopped beside it, it was ready to be enjoyed. 

(The cookies, despite some pouting, remained in their box for now.)

Revitalized by the prospect of a delicious snack, Lucifer tugged on her hand, pulling her towards the nursery.  He was already babbling about how all his duckies would be thrilled to see the apple duck she had created.  Actually, it was a swan, but she didn’t bother correcting him; not only would it be pointless, his cuteness was too much to even remotely diminish.

As soon as they arrived at the playroom, Lucifer broke free from her hand holding; he rushed back to his toys on loose, uncoordinated steps.  He plopped down right in front of the ducks and dinosaurs, then popped his pacifier out of his mouth.  Mumbling incoherently, he patted his hand on the spot behind him–clearly demanding that snack time begins.

“Yes, I’m coming,” Lilith smiled, placing the dish on the mat beside him.  

Happily, Lucifer snatched an apple slice.  He took a bite before showing it to his toys.  He continued his baby-talk, and made dramatized munching sounds as his toys also digged into their lunch.  Lilith also may have stolen a couple sweet slices.

As predicted, peanut butter stickiness covered the mat.  Apple juice dripped off Luci’s chin.  Once the cookies were brought out, an ungodly amount of crumbs covered his onesie.  Nonetheless, the endearing giggles made the mess seem small enough.  As the snack slowly disappeared, Luci’s energy did the same. He yawned, scratching his eyes as his sluggish a hands and slurring babbles poked at his toys. Lilith, knowing naptime would soon follow, strode from her place on the floor over to the nightstand, where she wound his music box. By the time Lucifer had noticed she had temporarily left his side, the gentle notes already drifted through the nursery.

Lucifer stared up her, taking long and slow blinks as she scooped him off the floor. It seemed that playtime had sapped all his energy. Duckling picnics were very tiring work after all. As soon as his pacifier was replaced in his mouth, his head rested on her shoulder. The sound music box would last long enough to get the little king to sleep. But not without his lullaby added onto it. Soft lyrics danced with the ringing song.

“More than anything, more th anything, I’ll shelter and adore you more than anything. More than anything, more than anything, need you to know I love you more than anything.”

And every word was true.

[florence-end]

Fairytales

Part 2 to May I Have This Dance?

Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: Encouraged by your walls lowering after dancing together, Azriel takes you into Velaris to show you his favourite place. You move one step closer to accepting the mating bond.

Warnings: a little mention of Azriel’s childhood, reader is still an anxious mess a lot of the time, absolute self-indulgent tooth rottingly fluffy feelings

The day after you danced with Azriel as part of Cassian’s lessons, you found yourself unable to look him in the eye once more. The memories of the intimacy you’d both enjoyed during the waltzes with his hand pressed to your lower back and lips barely inches apart were now overwhelming, and if you dwelled on them too much you became so aware of the buzzing bond that joined your souls, it became hard to breath. So naturally, rather than embarrass yourself further, you avoided him all morning.

To say Azriel was frustrated would be an understatement. Not frustrated with you, never with you. But with all the events of your life up until now that led you to pull away from him every time he managed to get a little closer to you. Before the dancing lessons, he had even begun to wonder if perhaps you simply didn’t feel the bond as strongly as he did and that’s why it didn’t soothe your discomfort the way he thought it would once you got to know each other. However, he had now seen your natural reaction to him when he’d pulled you so close, kept you there with gentle firm hands when you tried to shrink back into yourself, the look in your eyes when you pushed through the overwhelm and allowed your guard to drop for a few minutes. You were just as affected as he was. And if tiptoeing around you and avoiding any grand gestures for fear of scaring you off hadn’t worked by now, it was time to try a new approach.

Which is how Azriel found himself knocking on your office door that afternoon, not with a book and a mug of your favourite tea in hand, but with your winter coat and knitted hat.

“Good afternoon, Azriel,” you murmured quietly, stepping back from the door to avoid having him brush against you as he entered your small study.

“Hi angel. Here,” he responded, holding out your coat for you to slip your arms into. But you didn’t move.

“What’s going on? I don’t have any meetings in the River House scheduled this afternoon,” you fretted, beginning to panic that you were going to have to speak in front the rest of Inner Circle without enough preparation time.

Azriel felt your anxiety rise, heard your heart rate spike. “Deep breaths angel, you don’t have any meetings. In fact, your working day is done. Amren is in Adriata with Varian until tomorrow and she was more than happy to grant my request to steal you from your duties for a few hours while she’s gone,” he explained, once again raising your coat and urging you to thread your arms through the sleeves.

“Oh,” you whispered to yourself, absentmindedly following his instruction and shrugging the warm fabric onto your shoulders.

Next, Azriel walked around to face you and tugged your chunky knit winter hat onto your head until it covered most of your ears and almost touched your eyebrows. You blinked up at him in surprise, and quickly stepped back to adjust the hat until it sat normally.

“Are we going somewhere?” you asked, mentally kicking yourself for such a silly question.

“I have a secret place I like to go down in the city when I have an afternoon off, and I have a feeling you might like it as much as I do,” he replied. With no more explanation, he held a hand out to you expectantly.

Walking through the House of Wind hand-in-hand was a new experience. Typically Azriel maintained a polite distance between your bodies except when he was flying with you or while dancing yesterday. And although you felt the usual breathlessness that came with your frayed nerves, you recognised the feeling as excitement this time as he clasped your hand in a gentle but firm hold and led you towards the large balcony.

Once outside in the crisp November air, he swept you up into his arms and shot into the sky with none of his usual tentativeness or warning. He was worried he had pushed his luck a little too far in his new attempts to encourage you to open up, until he snuck a glance at your face while his wings uncurled to slow the free fall.

You were wide eyed, but not with fear. Your face was lit up with sheer joy at the surprise. As Azriel took a sharp turn towards the river, a gleeful laugh escaped your beaming lips. He made a mental note to show this memory to Feyre later and ask her to paint it.

A few moments later, you both landed on a quiet cobbled street a few blocks away from the bank of the Sidra and Azriel once again took your hand.

“Come on, angel,” he smiled as he led you towards a tiny doorway tucked into the side of one of the small stone buildings.

Walking inside, the smell was the first thing you noticed. Books. You’d know that smell anywhere. And indeed the walls of the warm, dim room were lined with shelves upon shelves of beautiful fabric-bound volumes in all colours and sizes. A few cosy armchairs and sofas filled the space in the middle of the room, facing the lit fireplace.

“Whose house is this?” you asked as you took in the cosy atmosphere.

“Officially it’s mine but darling Azriel likes to act as if he owns the place more often than not,” the amused voice reached you before the elderly fae lady rounded the corner, wiping her hands on her apron as she approached.

“And you must be this mate he’s told me so much and yet so little about. Let me look at you, dear,” the female demanded, pulling you forward from Azriel’s grasp and removing your wooly hat in one swift movement. The attention brings you back to yourself, and self consciousness threatens to overcome you. Your shoulders hunch, your gaze falls to the woven rug beneath your feet and your cheeks warm in a way that has nothing to do with the roaring fire.

“Oh he said you were a little shy. That’s alright, those Illyrian brutes make more than enough noise for everyone,” she says fondly, squeezing your hand and throwing a wink towards Azriel as he rolls his eyes.

“Sweetheart, this is Efa. She has lived here for centuries. When Rhys was trapped in Amarantha’s court, she found me walking along the river one night and invited me in for tea. I’ve been coming as often as I can ever since,” he explained, removing his coat and yours as he spoke, and moving to hang them on the coat stand near the front door.

“Azriel it’s rude to leave a lady standing in the middle of the room, sit down both of you! The kettle is on but I’m afraid I have to go to work. Please make yourself at home, my dear,” she aimed the last part at you as she hung up her apron and wrapped a colourful knitted shawl around her shoulders and swept out of the door.

“Efa runs the haberdashery near Feyre’s studio so I often come here for some peace and quiet to read,” Azriel explained, shepherding you towards the squashy sofa directly opposite the hearth.

“You don’t like the libraries up at the house?” you asked.

“Oh of course, but sometimes I want to read the books only Efa has,” Azriel gestured to the shelves surrounding you.

Suddenly remembering all the beautifully bound books, you made your way to the nearest bookcase and took in the titles. After scanning three shelves, you moved to the next bookcase and the next.

Turning to find Azriel watching you intently, you voiced your confusion. “Fairytales?”

He smiled.

“Efa collects them. Fairytales and nursery rhymes from every court in Prythian and even a few human stories,” he picked a burgundy and gold book from the shelf and held it out for you to inspect.

“You like fairytales?” you ask, incredulously. A half-second later you realised how rude you had probably sounded. “I mean, everyone loves fairytales so of course there’s nothing to say you shouldn’t. It’s just-”

“I know it’s a surprise,” he cut you off, saving you from flustering yourself further. “But I didn’t have a proper childhood. My step mother wasn’t really the bedtime story kind and there were no books in the dungeon. By the time Rhysand’s mother took me in, he and Cassian thought themselves far too grown up and tough for children’s stories. But when I was small, during the hour I was permitted to see my mother each week, she would tell me all sorts of tales of dragons and brave knights and braver princesses. Coming here, reading these books, reminds me of those times when I start to feel like I’ve ventured too far from the child I once was.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Of course you knew the gist of Azriel’s childhood but he had never been so open with you. So vulnerable. You knew he was worried about overwhelming you and although you had tried to engage in conversation to get to know your mate, you would always find yourself clamming up after a few exchanged sentences. But for him to trust you with something and somewhere so personal even when you gave so little of yourself in return…

“Oof!” Azriel exhaled as your body collided with his. Your arms were around his shoulders, your hands spread across his back between his wings and you balanced on your toes to avoid squishing your face against his broad chest. His arms instinctively moved to wrap around waist and he had time to give you one quick squeeze before you lost your nerve and teetered back onto your heels.

You quickly busied yourself with finding a fairytale to read but you could both feel something had shifted. The walls around you were starting to falter and Azriel was determined to slip past them as much as you would permit.

For the next two hours, you sat together on the sofa, fairytales open in your laps. But instead of reading in silence as you often did together in your study, you found yourselves reading passages aloud to each other. Laughing at particularly silly limericks and nursery rhymes. Describing the whackiest make-believe characters from long forgotten fables. It turned out Azriel was quite the expert at putting on exaggerated voices for all of the characters, and you had to wipe away tears of laughter on more than one occasion.

As the sun began to set outside, Azriel’s stomach gave an almighty growl and you giggled.

“Perhaps it’s time to go home for dinner. Can we come back soon?” you asked, still feeling a little nervous to ask him for anything.

“Whenever you want,” he promised, once again offering your coat for you to slip into.

Rather than immediately take flight this time, Azriel took your hand as you stepped back out onto the narrow street and began strolling toward the river.

“Before we go home, there’s something I’d like to tell you. I say all of this with no expectation and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know you’re scared and I’ve refrained from being too upfront with any of this during the last month because I haven’t wanted to push you further away. But yesterday, when we danced, I realised if I don’t take a chance and lay my cards on the table, we might both suffer all the more for it,” Azriel begins, subconsciously squeezing your hand as you both stroll. You’re not sure what he’s going to say which unnerves you but you don’t interrupt. “I think you’re wonderful. I have waited so long for my mate and at times, I convinced myself that perhaps I was just destined to be alone. The Mother gave me my shadows and they were all the company I was to have, I was too cold and unfeeling and angry for anything else. But you have changed me, and in such a short time and with so few words. I want to be where you are, always. I want to hear the thoughts that you keep hidden through fear of taking up too much time or making too much noise. I want you to release the tension in your shoulders from keeping yourself so hunched and small all the time. And I know it’ll take time to earn your trust and ease. But I would hate for a communication issue to be the thing that holds us back so I just want you to know that I’m completely in this. I’m yours and I'm not going anywhere.”

You exhaled a long breath as Azriel finished his monologue and risked a glance at you to gauge your reaction.

“You know, when I first arrived, Feyre told me we’d probably be the first mates in history to figure out a way to communicate without any words or mind links at all because you don’t like to speak unless necessary and I’m so timid. I think she may have misled me,” you smiled softly. Azriel chuckled. “Thank you for telling me all of that. You are changing me too and I’m sorry I can’t often show it but I will keep trying every day. And I’m completely in this too, there is nowhere else that holds any meaning for me now I’ve got a home with you.” You confessed, your cheeks hot but your eyes honest.

Your slow paces came to a stop as you each considered the feelings that had finally been aired tonight. Azriel placed a warm hand on the side of your face and tiled it up to face him, bathing your features in the warm glow of the sunset. Searching your eyes for discomfort and finding none, he slowly closed the distance between you and placed a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. Pulling away just enough to meet your eyes again, you shared a smile and the bond hummed happily between your chests. Perhaps you would be the one cooking dinner soon.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #39] Rooms

warnings: fluffy and luverly!! let's go to pohang!! laser tag chapter :) start of the pre-wedding celebrations!

a/n: im scheduling as i watch bangbangcon but it've already made it through the red bullet and wings show so I am behind schedule! too distracted! tannie writer second, army first!!

wc: 9.5K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"What did you vote for?" Jeongguk asks, tucking into the piping-hot French toast from his favourite cafe downtown.

Sitting by the window, you're polar opposites. Dressed down, you've come to meet him following his meeting with the bank, and are incredibly grateful that you're in a public space. Never before have you seen him so formal - but you have seen the tie he's wearing before. The last time you'd laid eyes upon it, it had been fastened around your wrists. Every now and again, your words trail off, eyes focused on his chest - and every single time, Jeongguk smirks.

"Pohang," you say, digging your fork into the strawberries he set aside for you on his plate. As much as he likes them, he knows you like them more. "Beach over mountains any day."

Jeongguk nods, brows furrowed together as he swallows down his food. "Fuck me, that's good - and yeah, same. Will be nice to get out of the city, too. And hey -" he snaps his fingers beside his face. Twice. Gets your attention. "Eyes up here, Disco Ball."

Throwing him a small glare, you decide you're not to blame. "You shouldn't have worn that tie."

Exhaling a breathy laugh, Jeongguk just shakes his head. "You should learn to have some self-control."

With a roll of your eyes, you play off his teasing. "Please, self-control is basically my middle name."

"Disco Self-Control Ball?" He asks almost a little too sincerely. "Must be a ballache for signing legal documents."

"My parents wanted me to be unique," you playfully reply.

"You're certainly unusual," Jeongguk knocks his head to the side, then takes a sharp swig of his coffee as if it's hard liquor. There's a playful arrogance to the way in which he teases you, and you know that anything you say will be met with dumb banter when he's in moods like these. "Unique sounds far too nice."

"Pack it in, Jeon," you scold, but there's a smile on your lips, and glitter in your gloss. A certain happiness radiates from you that he hasn't had the luxury of indulging in recently. What with the scare of carrying a literal child pressing on you for a couple of weeks, and Jeongguk's stress about the bank meeting, there's not been much chance for respite. You've both been processing the events - and the bad decisions it took to reach such a calamity.

So despite the tease, you're both agreed: a breather is needed.

Things with Jeongguk are good. Great, in fact. You're both seemingly happy with the arrangement at hand, and yet there's a fear that things could get spoiled. That you'll take how good things are for granted. Will ruin it.

For lack of better phrasing, you were only ever supposed to be fuck buddies. Not parents. Not anything more than friends who fuck around a little bit in the hopes that their issues would resolve themselves.

"Hey," he defends, holding his hands up, the smile on his face as he chews on the last bit of French toast just as infuriatingly charming as it always is.

Your conversation is lost in the general chatter of the cafe, and anyone walking past would be forgiven for thinking that you're talking about the upcoming new moon, or astronomy, or some shit like that. The way Jeongguk looks like he's got an entire cosmos in his eyes, and the glitter that freckles your skin, makes you appear like you're in your very own world. Very own galaxy, perhaps.

"I mean it," you say sternly. "I'll think you're flirting with me if you keep being mean."

Jeongguk just shrugs. "Maybe I am flirting with you."

The way you gag and heave at such a response has the table next to you glancing over to check you aren't actually throwing up.

Jeongguk laughs. Reaches for your arms to steady you, then glances over to the people looking your way. "Don't worry about her. Just swallowed a fly."

You look at him with narrowed eyes, yet again, and Jeongguk begins to learn that this is synonymous with feigned disgust. Your narrowed eyes are never glaring. Always glowing.

Shaking off his touch, you ignore the way Jeongguk bites down on his bottom lip, and how his lip ring does the thing.

"I'll swallow you if you're not careful," you threaten - and regret it immediately when Jeongguk raises his eyebrows.

"Now that's not very friendly, is it, Byeol?"

"Oh, no like that," you laugh, because you don't want to keep pretending like you're entirely disgusted by him. If anything, now you're thinking about it, you'd quite like to swallow him. You blame the desire to do incredibly unfriendly things with your best friend on the tie he's wearing.

"Anyways," you dismiss. "Are we driving across to Pohang? Or getting the train?"

"I think you mean to say am I driving - and the answer is yes, I am," he assures you. "Is this a sneaky way of begging for a ride?"

"I thought you'd never ask - and hey, don't look at me like that. You normally like it when I ri-"

"Byeol!"

"What?!"

"Behave yourself."

With a coy smile, you mumble an apology.

Jeongguk just shakes his head. Mutters, 'unbelievable,' and takes a sip of his coffee. Hands in your lap, you lean over to reach your straw and take a sip of your iced americano, too. Look up at him. Earn yourself another warning.

"Stop it with the eyes."

Cheeks rounding, lips still around your straw curving into a tight-lipped smile, you close your eyes.

"Seriously, you gotta behave yourself if we're gonna survive this weekend," he tells you, knowing that there's absolutely no way he'll make it out a weekend of you flirting with him in the way that you are now alive. Might just die.

A group consensus had been taken for Yoongi and Seoyeon's respective celebrations of their singledoms - but neither of them really felt like saying 'goodbye' to it. Would much rather just say 'hello' to the lives they're building together. In all honesty, marriage will really change nothing between the pair of them.

It's for this reason that they've opted for a group celebration. Two options had been given in the group chat - renting out a pension-style house by the coast over in Pohang, or a spa stay at a mountain resort on the edge of the city - and the vote had been unanimous.

This weekend, you'll all head over to the coast. After the stress of the last few weeks, you genuinely can't wait - even if Hayun will be there.

"It's inevitable," you shrug when Jeongguk asks how you're feeling about it. In all honesty, you're surprised that he breached the conversation. Thought that she'd be ignored like a bright red elephant in the corner of the room. Instead, it seems like he's trying to assess the situation before it even happens - and you can't blame him. "She might not be my favourite person in the world, but this weekend isn't about me, is it?"

You've given it a lot of thought over the last few days. Too much thought, you think. Have considered half a dozen scenarios that could play out, and the bias of your brain always has them working out in your favour.

She wants to argue? You'll rise above it. She gives you a snide remark? You won't give her the dignity of a response. Jeongguk falls under her spell? Let him. It's not like he's yours, anyway. He can do as he pleases.

Yet when you look up at him, and see the look of contemplation on his handsome features, neat brows furrowed and a frown detailing his expression, you secretly hope that she isn't what pleases him anymore. You're unaware of the ins and outs of their conversation at The Ryu. All you know is that she always laughs a little too much at Jeongguk's jokes in the group chat, but that he ignores all of her replies.

"Well, no," he supposes, eventually.

"How are you feeling about it?" You decide to ask. Have spent far too long trying to read between the lines that Hayun has painted red. Would like a little clarity. Think that it's about time you stopped jumping to conclusions without a safety net in place. "Have you spoken lately?"

He shakes his head. Toys with the straw in his coffee glass, which is mostly ice by this point. The small frozen shards clatter against one another, but will soon be melted into oblivion. Forgotten all about. "No reason to."

He pretends to not notice the coy smile you're trying to hide, but it's contagious. He mirrors you. Does a terrible job at pretending like he isn't pleased by this admission.

There's an acute awareness between you both that this feels new. That the overwhelming burden of Jeongguk's confused feelings towards Hayun no longer weighs down on his shoulders in the same way that they used to.

"Think that Tae and Danbi are gonna try and get a ride with me too," he tells you.

"What about Jimin?"

"Oh, yeah," he nods. "Him too. That's like, a given, though. He's already shotgunned the front seat. Joon's gonna get the train,  I think. Said he and Hobes had spoken about catching the same one."

Nodding, you add, "Yeah, Hobes has already got his ticket sorted. He's always at that bloody tennis club with Joon these days. Think he might have a crush."

"Really?!" Jeongguk exclaims with such vigour the table beside you gawks over at you both again.

Laughing, you hush him. "Maybe. Never really seen them together, but he did ask me if I've ever noticed how good Joon's thighs are the other day."

"He has got really good thighs," Jeongguk laments with a little envy. Seems like as much as he works out, he can never reach the same levels of muscle ass on his own legs. "Understandable."

"Can't say I've ever noticed."

"You must be blind."

That, or just always too busy looking at Jeongguk's thighs instead.

Even though they're tucked neatly beneath the table, you still glance down at his lap, reminded of just how much you like his thighs - and how much he liked you on them in the janitor's closet at Taehyung's art show.

"Eyes. Up."

"Oh my god," you whine, cheeks flaming. "I wasn't looking at them like that ."

"Is it the suit?" He questions, genuine curiosity brimming on the very edges of his jovial teasing. It's been a while since he's seen you this unable to visibly control yourself. Too long, he thinks. Selfishly, he quite enjoys it when it's like this. Like you a little loopy for him. "Is that what's getting you all hot and bothered, huh?"

"I'm a perfectly normal temperature."

"You're sweating," he lies. "Burning up for me, baby."

"Is that a Jonas Brothers reference?" You question, equal parts bemused and frustrated with how much he likes to fuck around with you like this.

"I'm a man of culture, Byeol."

"You're a twat."

"Yeah, that too."

Rolling your eyes, you decide that you don't wanna let the conversation derail yet again. Take charge of the direction it goes in.

"So tell me more about your meeting. How'd that go? When will you hear about the loan?"

"Yeah, really well," he says and gets into the specifics. Tells you all about the loan process, how his business plan was barely even looked at despite all of his hard work, and how uncertain he still is.

"You'll be fine," you promise him. "One step closer to the big dream."

Nodding, he's apprehensive. Tries not to let it show. "One step closer."

Walking into your room, anyone would be forgiven for thinking you're packing for three months - not three nights.

"Why is this even up for debate?!" Jeongguk laughs, holding up the skimpiest bikini he thinks he's ever seen. "We're not going swimming in the sea. It'll be bloody freezing."

"Okay, firstly - you're not swimming in the sea. I'll do whatever I like, thank you very much. And secondly, haven't you looked at the listing?" You assert. "Seoyeon sent it over a few days ago."

Opening up his phone, Jeongguk scrolls through the group chat, which has received easily a hundred messages since then. He's awful at checking it. Always finds out the important details from you or Jimin, anyways.

Scrolling through the pictures, it's the first time Jeongguk is properly looking at it. Had agreed to whatever the happy couple had suggested, and just wired the money through for his share of the weekend rent - after all, it's their celebration, not his. Will happily do whatever they want, and plans on spending the weekend in a permanent state of ' yes '.

A large white pension house, it overlooks the coast and has a pathway that directly leads down to a small cove. With two extra buildings, there are enough rooms to comfortably sleep you all, even if some will be sharing. 

It has everything you could need for a weekend away with friends - an outside deck with a large barbecue, a ping pong table you know full well be used for beer pong, sofas that look like they can easily fit a football team on them and a hot tub in the corner of that outside deck. You dread to think of what men like Jimin would get up to in it, but thankfully there's no one here this weekend he can put his moves on.

Looking at the bikini still in his grasp, he comes to realise why it was in your pile of potentials - and stupidly, all he can think of is the fact he absolutely does not want to give any of his friends reasons to stare. Knows they inevitably will. Knows that if the pair of you were established as more than what you are, he'd revel in it. Would be so incredibly proud.

And yet he doesn't want any of the single boys thinking about you in the same way that he does. Doesn't want them to have any reason to put moves on you.

Still, you're your own person, and he knows better than to ever try and tell you what you should or shouldn't wear - so he just tosses it into the small suitcase you're packing.

Is a little bit mopey and pathetic as he says, "The boys will be drooling."

Raising your brow, you question, "Is that an issue?"

"No issue," he lies, then flops onto his back, head landing on a pile of your pillows. He smirks. "We both know I'm the only one you'll be drooling over, so it's fine. Let them look."

"God, your ego will be the death of you."

He doesn't reply. Knows you'll be the death of him, instead, and kind of loves this reality.

The rest of the evening trawls on, and your suitcase is packed and unpacked - according to Jeongguk - a 'gazillion' times. Eventually, fed up with your own indecision, you'd said, "I can't be arsed. Pack for me."

And so he had. In lightning speed, Jeongguk had enough clothes gathered for the weekend and your toiletries all zipped up into a small bag. In true Virgo fashion, he'd folded them all needed and organised your suitcase like a display unit at an upscale department store.

When you reach over to question one of his shirt choices, he taps your hand away. "Nope. You're done. You can't spend another fourteen years packing."

"I could give it a good try."

"Byeol," he whines. "You won't get a better configuration than this. Don't try it."

He also doesn't want you to take out a few of the things he's snuck in there, either. Your bikini is in plain sight, so you know that he has at least packed that.

"Fine," you sigh, flipping the lid of the suitcase over to zip it up. He really has done a stellar job, and you know you shouldn't, but you actually find his efficiency kinda hot, in a strange sort of way. Just shows his competency. Makes you think he'd be useful to keep around. Good with a drill. Good with a screw - but you knew that already. "You all packed?"

He raises a brow as he reclines into a more comfortable position on your bed. "Is that even a real question?"

Those narrow eyes of yours come back, and Jeongguk watches as you scan your bed for something to throw at him. His eyes reach your My Melody plushie a fraction of a section before yours do - and so he lunges for it, narrowly beating you.

The speed at which you both reach for it causes you to stumble a little onto your bed. Jeongguk holds the My Melody above his head as he sits up straight against the headrest, and on his face is the cheesiest grin you've ever seen. It's so bright that you almost miss the way his lip ring is doing that godforsaken thing once more.

He challenges you in the way he raises his brows, as if to say, "Come and get it."

And who are you to refuse a challenge?

It's clockwork the way in which you two tussle around. It's gentle and childish. You're giggly, and so is he. He could pin you down easily; restrain you in a way he's done before.

And yet he doesn't.

He lets you win, because letting you win also means having you on his lap - and he's sorely missed that. Missed you. Missed the feeling that comes with pretending like you're more than what you are.

A win for you is a win for him.

With My Melody in your hands, Jeongguk's hands come to find their place on your waist.

"Got it," you say quietly, and Jeongguk just hums. Nods. Pulls you further up his lap.

Leaning your forehead down to rest upon his, it's easy to forget the boundaries you've set in place. Hard to remember how to be responsible.

Nudging his nose up against yours, Jeongguk can't help but let himself slip back into old habits. Bad habits. Ones he should have kicked ages ago.

And yet he lets his lips ghost yours. Aligns his between yours. Tightens his grip on your hips and gently rocks you. Whispers a hushed moan. Takes a second to pause. Think about what he's doing. Assess whether or not it's a recipe for disaster.

Resting his forehead against yours, he shakes his head. Goes to speak - and then, against his better judgement, presses a chaste kiss to your lips. It's teeny tiny. Delicate. Too little and yet too much all in the same fleeting touch; like a shooting star not shining for long enough to make a wish upon.

"C'mon," he whispers against your lips. "We can't be doing this. Not now."

"I'm not doing anything," you whisper right back, as if your hips aren't languidly grinding against him. " You're the one with a boner."

"And you're the encouraging it," he says, as if he wasn't the one to get you positioned over his cock. "We've been doing so well. Let's not fuck it up."

Part of you wants to fuck it up, though.

"Say the word," you tell him, knowing that you need him to be the strong one.

"B," he says a little breathlessly, swallowing down the syllable.

"Say the word."

Jeongguk shakes his head. Sounds guilty as he admits, "I don't want to."

God , he just makes it so hard to resist.

"We've got an early start tomorrow," you contemplate out loud. "Maybe you should get going."

"Maybe I should," he agrees - but then hurriedly changes his mind. "Fuck it. No. I don't wanna go."

"No?" You ask with a soft smile on your lips. It's taking everything in him not to kiss you right now. Ha to physically hold himself a little further back.

"No," he husks. Is all raspy and needy, obsessed with how it feels to have you in a position like this. He'd wait a lifetime, he thinks - but is also impatient. Wants you now. "I wanna stay. Wanna make you cum."

Ooft . It's bold statements like those - the crude , the vulgar , the indecent - that always drive you a little wild. Jeongguk will touch you so tenderly, as if he's scared of leaving a single mark on your skin, and yet whispers words that will forever warp your sense of desire.

"That's not very friendly," you say, stroking your hands through his hair, still fascinated by the new length.

"Yeah, it is. It's like, so kind," he assures you. " So friendly."

With a bemused smile, you remind him of his desire to leave. "Were you not just saying you had to go?"

Closing his eyes, Jeongguk lets his head tip back, his pretty neck exposed, Adam's apple just begging for a little kiss. You refuse.

"You're right," he groans. "Fuck. Yeah. Sorry. Shit. Get off me, you temptress."

Laughing at his ridiculous wording, you do as you're told. It's tender, the way Jeongguk lets you go, but keeps hands loosely on your body until you're out of reach.

"Do us both a favour," Jeongguk says nonchalantly, reaching over your bedside table for the trinket box that houses things a 'friend' really shouldn't know about. He opens it up, and you watch on in suspended disbelief - which only tenfolds when he pulls out your fucking vibrator, and then chucks it at you. "Take this with you."

Barely managing to catch it, you stammer out a collection of high-pitched noises that mean nothing and everything all at once.

"Okay, one," you hiss, eyes wide, shock evident. "You don't just go into a girl's private things like that-"

"I've been in your private thing loads."

"Jeongguk, that is not what I mean. I said things, not thing ."

"Yeah? I've seen 'em all. Been in a couple. Plural. Things."

"Gguk," you laugh now - and then remember you're holding a fucking rabbit . The black silicone is a demure upgrade from your last one, but how demure can a dick-shaped vibrator with a pair of bunny ears be? Tossing it down on your bed, it lands with a thud - and that's how Jeongguk knows it must be fucking powerful. "I'm not taking a vibrator on a trip with all of our friends."

"Do I need to remind you that you were gonna walk around in front of our friends with my cum in yo-"

"Stop!" You cringe. Whine as you throw your head back. "God, we're disgusting ."

"Yeah," he admits. Smirks. "Was kinda hot, though."

Shameless , you think - then wonder if he's always been like this; if Hayun got this side of him.

Thing is, when Jeongguk had been sleeping with Hayun, he'd been trying so hard to be perfect . The perfect gent, the perfect concept of a boy she could grow to love. For a while, it had seemed to work. So intent on being pristine, he kept their sex life equally as perfect. Would never be vulgar without purpose.

He steps into a realm that goes beyond his past experiences with you. His confidence fools you into a false understanding of his experience, but he'd got every reason to be confident with you. The sex only seems to get better and better. The riskier he gets, the bigger the reward. It's a recipe for disaster. A bad decision waiting to happen.

This is probably why cooling things off is a good decision. He was one step away from exhibitionism. Is taking things too far.

Fails to realise that maybe he wants to be caught. Wants people to know you fuck, because it's the only way he can mark his territory. Primal instincts. The same type that gets him spitting on your cunt, lips wrapping around your nipples, cock fucking into you at any given opportunity. He desperately wants to belong to you.

It's not a case of him being possessive, no. It's a case of him wanting to be possessed by you.

But these are dangerous things to think about when he's supposed to be cooling things off.

So instead, he simply says, "Take it with you. Please ."

"Why?" you question, because you're never gonna easily agree with him.

"'Cause I need you to not try it on with me," Jeongguk almost pleads. "Need you to be satisfied."

Funny how he thinks a dildo is capable of that. The only reason you upgraded was because the last one didn't cut it anymore. This one... yeah, this one is better, but it still isn't good enough.

But you're a dickhead in the best of times, and Jeongguk is never gonna get a serious answer from you.

"I'll just go to Jimin's room."

Jeongguk doesn't even crack a smile.

"No, you won't."

"Done it before-"

"You're not doing it again."

"Why not?" you pout, reaching back down for the vibrator. The way you hold it isn't necessarily obscene, but it is suggestive - and it makes Jeongguk's semi so painfully hard. One of his hands comes to his lap, as if to hide it, but it's no use. You can read his body like a book. Know exactly which chapter you're on. "I could just go to his room instead of yours when I'm horny?"

"What's the use? You'll leave just as horny as you went in."

"That's so mean."

He smirks. "Okay, but is it a lie?"

You don't dignify him with a response, instead opting to shoo him out of your apartment, with the promise of him getting to yours bright and early the next morning. Taehyung will be staying at your place with Danbi, to make it easier for Jeongguk, and all things considered, it's a well-set plan. No issues.

Or at least no issues until he arrives to find out that if he considers you not a light packer, then Danbi must be a heavyweight packer.

"We're going for three nights!" Jeongguk says in disbelief, when he's greeted with a full-size suitcase and a carry-on - not to mention the two tote bags over her shoulders.

"Okay?" Danbi says with the straightest face known to man. Part of you thinks she's just testing him, but the rest of you has known her for far too long. She really is a terrible packer. "And?"

Taehyung just has a leather duffel bag over his shoulder and an apologetic 'I tried telling her' look on his face.

Jeongguk stands still for a moment. Stares. Looks as if he's about to protest until, eventually, he just relents. "Fine - but I'm gonna have to reconfigure things."

You have to bite your tongue. Stop it from declaring how sexy it is when he talks efficiently. Oh, who are you?! One pregnancy scare and you're thinking about him in DILF capacities - but then he's rearranging the luggage, and the muscles in his arms flexing beneath his skin like fucking art, and - Oh, God. Pull yourself together!

The weekend will be a certified disaster if you don't get a grip on your brain and realign it. Jeongguk is your best friend. An idiot. A sexy idiot, granted, but still an idiot. You just wish he was wearing a jacket or something.

So busy looking at his arms, unable to form any words or offer any help, you're transfixed as you hear your name.

"Byeol?"

"Hmm?" You snap your focus up to his face, and are thankful you're not fucking drooling.

Too concerned with the luggage debacle, Jeongguk doesn't really notice the way you've been ogling.

"Will you be alright with bags by your feet?"

"Yeah," you nod. Your parents had always popped bags by your feet when you were younger, as you often travelled with your dog, giving him all the boot space. Squeezing yourself in is second nature. "No bother."

"Alright," he nods appreciatively, then taps on the passenger door. Jimin's napping, and Jeongguk had chosen not to wake him, knowing the car will likely be full of chatter when the three of you join the ride.

Waking with a startle, Jimin's clutching his heart when he gets out of the car. "Thought I was dying."

"You might be soon," Jeongguk grimaces, which earns an immediate wail from Jimin.

"No!" He asserts, knowing what is about to be asked of him. "Gguk, you promised ."

"I know, but I didn't expect there to be so much luggage!"

Jimin scowls in the direction of you three, who admittedly are standing there looking like guilty schoolchildren - even if it is just Danbi who has caused the conundrum.

"It's not a long drive," Jeongguk tries to reason with him. "And I'll pay for your snacks when we stop at a service station. Please, just sit in the back."

After a little more huffing and puffing, Jimin reluctantly agrees - but as an act of silent protest towards Danbi and Taehyung, he decides that he's having the middle seat. If he has to third-wheel, he's doing it on his own terms.

Eventually, you're crammed into the passenger seat with yours and Jeongguk's luggage, and a crate of beers on your lap.

"You good?" Jeongguk asks quietly as he starts the car up.

"All good," you nod as Jeongguk passes the cable for the aux over to you.

"Hold on, DB," Jimin says. "Made a playlist. I'll send you the link."

He really does take his shotgun duties seriously, and so you feel bad for getting his spot.

In all honesty, Jeongguk would have preferred you in the back. Would have liked glancing in his rearview mirror to see your disco balls eyes from time to time. Still, there's a comfort that comes with having you so close. Fears your glitter catching in the early morning light could be a distraction. Decides it's a fear he doesn't mind facing.

The drive is as smooth as you'd expect; mindless chatter, stupid games, and a soundtrack worthy of a montage in a cliche chick-flick. Jimin really did do a great job with the playlist, and, at times, Jeongguk's car becomes its very own noraebang.

You're nearly three-quarters of the way there when Jeongguk eventually turns off and heads into a service station. Doesn't need fuel for his car, but he can definitely do with fuel for his tummy.

Placing his hand on your back, Jeongguk gets your attention while you head towards the food court.

"Just gotta take this," he says, holding up his phone to show you an incoming call.

Nodding, you ask, "Want me to get you anything?"

"Surprise me."

"Will do."

Catching up with your friends, you're pleased to see the service station is just as you'd been expecting - a few stalls of snack foods, a couple of shops filled with tat for last-minute gifts and a little CU. The smell of hot oil and gasoline wafts around the place, wrapping you up in a certain nostalgia.

"Watcha getting?" Danbi asks.

"Not sure," you muse, looking at the menu above the canteen-style dining area. It's small, only about thirty or so seats, but it's quickly filling up as people seek refuge from the fine droplets of rain that have begun to pitter-patter down.

"Where's Gguk?" Jimin asks no one in particular.

Glancing over your shoulder to the entrance, you spot Jeongguk still on his call, pacing slightly. He's not seeking cover from the rain, eyes hard as he listens to whoever is on the other end of the line. Chewing down on his bottom lip, there's an uncertainty to his typically confident posture.

"On a call," you simply say, still observing him. Tension builds between his brows as he says something you can't decipher, before he turns away from your direction and continues pacing in laps with little regard for the weather. "Not sure who with."

It's another five minutes before he rejoins you, and when you ask him who was on the phone, he asks you what you've ordered, instead.

"Chicken," you tell him, eyes a little sleepy from the early start, not pushing on the ignored question. "Didn't really fancy anything else."

"You get me chicken, too?" He asks softly, rubbing your back as he stands a little closer beside you. Arm looping around his waist, you use his chest as a makeshift pillow for a moment or so.

"Mhmm. Figured we'd share."

"Sounds good to me," he says.

Eyes closed, you're unaware his sweet voice is paired with an incredibly rude middle finger, which is currently being held up towards Jimin and his shit-eating grin.

Cheeks chubby with the hotdog he's chowing down on, Jimin will always be the biggest supporter of Jeongguk being interested in, well, anyone other than Hayun.

The fact that it seems to be you?

Just makes it even better for him. Mainly because there's an endless supply of jokes he can make about him having you first, but also because he knows how deeply you care for Jeongguk. Thinks that his best friend deserves someone who gives a shit. Hopes that whatever the fuck is going on between you will sort itself out, sooner rather than later.

It's for this reason Jimin is so pleased that Hayun will only be on the trip for the final night.

She's currently back in Seoul for a job interview. Seoyeon had been a little disappointed when the schedules had clashed, but knew that it was important for her friend. She'd been desperately trying to find a job back in the capital city, and this was the first tangible shot in months.

Yoongi, on the other hand, had been quietly thrilled. Has no time for Hayun and her bullshit. Is just glad that other people seem to be wising up to the fact she is the way that she is. Has never really been a fan of her, and hopes that with time, Seoyeon will also distance herself. He'll never dictate her choices, though. It's something she'll have to learn to realise herself.

Food consumed, an appropriate amount of money wasted on the coin-operated gachapon machines, and a photo booth picture of the five of you crammed into a tiny passport-style booth taken, you head on your way again.

The drive takes far less time than you expect, and before you know it, you're all claiming to have been the first to see the sea. In all reality, it was Jeongguk who saw it first, but he lets you have your fun.

Dressed in white as she comes to greet you, Seoyeon is every bit the fairy princess bride-to-be. Her hair is delicately waved with teeny tiny plaits running through it. She too sports a little glitter on her eyes, but not half as much as you and it makes you consider altering your routine - but you know you never will.

"Gguk," Yoongi calls for Jeongguk's attention just as you finish unloading the car. "Sorry, I know you've been driving for a while but Joon and Hobi are at the station and the crappy weather is making it hard to get a taxi. Could you-"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure." Jeongguk nods, the start of his 'yes' weekend beginning. There's not a single thing that will be asked of him that he'll deny. Will do all he can to make things easier for other people, even if it does inconvenience him a little bit.

Car keys still in his hand, he holds them up and looks across to you. "Coming with?"

Shaking your head with a warm smile, you're appreciative of the invite, but you don't want to dip as soon as you arrive. The station is no more than a fifteen-minute drive, twenty tops, and given his face of thunder earlier, you think perhaps it'll be good for him to have some time to breathe.

"I'll make sure you get a good room," you promise instead, and he seems to appreciate this.

Waving a goodbye to everyone, Jeongguk heads off alone, while you take his and your bags in.

"You not going with him?" Seoyeon chirps as you take back one of the suitcases she's just claimed.

"Stop with the helping," you laugh. "It's your weekend. Should be relaxing. And nah, he can survive without me for a little bit."

"I hate feeling useless," she insists, and hoists Jeongguk's bag over her shoulder. Wobbles slightly, due to it being deceptively heavy, but she also seemingly has the core strength of a Goddess with how easily she balances herself. "Where are we taking these? Where are you guys staying?"

"Oh, we're not sharing," you say rather quickly. "Unless we need to, for space?"

Shaking her head, Seoyeon explains, "Oh, no. I just assumed you were. Danbi and Tae are sharing, Hayun will stay with Nabi when she gets here, so there's enough room for you and Jeongguk to have your own rooms. I mean, if that's what you want."

There's a subtle suggestion in her tone; permission, almost. You can stay with Jeongguk.

But instead, you double down.

"No, it's fine. Would probably be a bit weird, wouldn't it?"

Seoyeon smiles but keeps quiet as you head towards the second house, which is just off from the main building. Two rooms downstairs, and two rooms upstairs, it's the one you like the most when you saw the listing. Jimin's already nabbed one of the upstairs rooms, and you want the other one.

"Drop Jeongguk's bag here," you tell Seoyeon as you enter the house. "He'll be downstairs, and I'll be up."

"Sure thing," she smiles and she does as she's told, while also wondering if you'll be the one sneaking downstairs, or if he'll be the one sneaking upstairs.

Seoyeon leaves you to get yourself adjusted, and you're thankful for it. You know the weekend is gonna be full on when it comes to socialising, as much as you adore everyone coming (well, almost everyone), you know you'll be exhausted by the end of it.

It's partially why you insisted that Jeongguk retrieve the boys alone. He needs his space just as much as you do, and will probably need a final few moments of peace and quiet before the chaos that will surely unfold when everyone is reunited.

The room you're in is well-sized. Not huge, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it needn't be. What matters is the view - and it's the exact same reason Jimin chose the room across the hallway. A wide window takes up most of the wall that faces the coast, and in it pours the most gorgeous view you think you've ever seen.

An endless cerulean sea stretches in front of you. On the southeast coast of the country, you know that Dokdo lies not too far on the horizon. Ulleungdo, too. Both are obscure to you right now, the mist of a rainy haze rending everything beyond a mile or so into nothingness.

As you stare out of the window in a state of awe, you hear the soft vibration of your phone, and drag your eyes away. All pale wood and white fabrics, the furniture and bedding are pristine. A far cry from the clutter and mayhem of your and Danbi's apartment. Reminds you of Jimin and his minimalist tendencies. Must be living the dream over in his room.

Picking up your phone, you're surprised to see a notification for a voice note from Jeongguk. Flopping down onto the bed, you hesitate a little before pressing play.

"Hey, B," Jeongguk's voice echoes around you. Comforting, like the warmth of a blanket or the scent of freshly baked cookies, it's nice to hear his voice even if you only saw him about ten minutes ago. Laying your phone on your chest, it's as if he never left. 

"I know you're gonna ask about the call, but I don't wanna talk about it this weekend. There's just a hold-up with some of the bank stuff." You frown upon hearing this. Wonder what on Earth could possibly be wrong, knowing how hard Jeongguk had worked for it all. "That's all. No biggie. Was just thinking about it, so yeah. Thought I'd just let you know. Nearly at the station, so will be home soon. That's all. Okay. Bye-bye."

The cuteness of his sign-off fails to negate the heaviness of the rest of the message. It had obviously been dwelling on his mind, but also proves that letting him drive alone to process his thoughts was the right call. His choice to send a voice note was deliberate. He didn't want to engage in conversation, but he did want you to know - and you appreciate that more than you think you'll ever be able to convey.

Being invited into Jeongguk's mind, free of charge, with no expectation to invite him into yours is an honour. Proof of how he values you. An action that speaks louder than words.

You send him a quick text - "thanks for letting me know. got u a dreamy room, ur welcome x" - and then head back over to the main house. Rain drizzles down on you, but you don't mind. The rains are welcome after such a dry winter. Like the cutting of Jeongguk's hair, and the purchase of a brand new liquid glitter, they feel like the start of something new.

"I hear we're roomies," Jimin beams as you walk into the large, open-plan kitchen. There's a table big enough for a small country just in front of the kitchen area. To the right, through a large open arch is the sitting room. Designed for socialising, Seoyeon and Yoongi really did pick the best place.

"Housemates," you correct. "Jeongguk's in there too - who's got the fourth room?"

Sitting at the table, dressed casually but looking ever so beautiful, Nabi raises her hand. "You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

"PARTY HOUUUSE," Jimin cheers, raising the beer he's already nursing, which makes you roll your eyes - but you can't help but laugh. He's ridiculous, yes, but he is fun - and he's also probably right. You first bonded with him over drinks, met Jeongguk at the bar of Dionysus and didn't warm up to Nabi until a very spirited game of beer pong. You likely will be the ones drinking all night and waking a little worse for wear the next morning.

Yoongi smirks like the cat who got the cream. "I love it when a plan comes together."

"Hmm?" you chirp, but Jimin is far more direct.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Seoyeon stands beside Yoongi and rubs his back tenderly with a smile on her pretty lips. The peach blush on her cheeks is so delicate and befitting of who she is, that when her eyes shine with a glint of mischief you can't help but understand exactly why Yoongi is so smitten.

"We might have lured all the party people to the same house," she admits - but she's quick to defend herself when she notices the feigned offence on all of your faces. "But hey, it's perfect! We can go to bed whenever we need to, and you guys can keep the party going!"

"We're too old for your shenanigans," Yoongi assures you. "About to be a married couple-"

"Gross," Jimin adds.

"So we're not as young and reckless as you young'uns."

"Yoongi, you guys are literally only a couple of years older," you laugh.

"You're a pair of sneaky bastards," Nabi tells them with a smile. "You're lucky I love you both."

In all reality, there's no offence to be taken. It really is the perfect scenario. You're not surprised that it's something they thought of ahead of time.

Everything for this weekend has, to a certain extent, been well prepared - though not by the happy couple. Assigned partners, you've all been tasked with planning an activity for the weekend.

Seoyeon and Yoongi had assigned themself the 'greeting party', of which this is, and is also why Yoongi is cosplaying Jeongguk as he serves mimosas to everyone who walks through the door. He's not a bad bartender - but he'll never be your favourite.

Taehyung and Danbi have been paired together, and will be guiding you to a certain death this afternoon.

Your activity partner is Namjoon, and you half suspect it was another deliberate ploy from Yoongi and Seoyeon to get you more acquainted with him.

Out of all of the boys, he's the one you know the least well, so it's been fun trying to plan an activity with him. Has been nice getting to know him in a way that doesn't feel forced - even though you know it entirely is.

Tonight, you'll become hosts of the most extravagant tipsy bingo ever known to man.

Both creative in your own ways, Namjoon is probably the best partner you could have had for your big vision. He's good with words, while you're good with making things look... well, ridiculous. There's a box by the front door addressed to Namjoon that he had had the genius idea of sending up beforehand. It's filled to the brim with props and decor and honestly, you can't wait.

Tomorrow morning, you'll no doubt be nursing murderous hangovers, which is where Jimin and Nabi step in. You don't know much about their plans, but you have heard the words 'Olympic' 'limbo' and 'sick bucket' mumbled between them during failed attempts at secrecy. You dread to imagine what they have in store for you.

Jeongguk has been paired with Hoseok, but they utterly refuse to share their plans with you in a capacity. It's been driving you insane - and they've both been revelling in it. Their activity is planned for the penultimate day.

As Hayun is arriving late, she's got the responsibility of the final morning, and has told everyone in the group to pack a pair of sensible shoes. You almost didn't bring any just to be a little bitch - but this weekend isn't about you. You're playing nicely, whether you like it or not.

The arrival of Jeongguk with Hoseok and Namjoon in tow is met with an overwhelmingly fond cheer. They all look slightly embarrassed by the display, but they are also the only ones without alcohol in their system.

Mimosa in hand, Jeongguk comes to greet you personally after the general hellos.

"I swear to God, if you've put me in a basement room-"

"Shut up," you laugh, tapping his arm fondly. Standing a small distance away from the group, it may as well be just the two of you in the room. Everyone else just fades into the abyss. Hardly a surprise, when he's got eyes like black holes that are intent on swallowing up every single one of your stars. "We're in the second house. Nabi and Jimin are with us."

"Hmm?" He chirps, not aware of the layout. "We're all in the same room?"

"No! No, different rooms. There are four rooms. Think Hayun will be joining Nabi on the last night."

Nodding, Jeongguk takes a hefty swig of his mimosa. Needs it to swallow down that information. "And you decided that's where we should sleep?"

Smiling as if she's never phased you, all you do is shrug. "Mhhm. Problem?"

He sticks his bottom lip and shakes his head. Reaches over to mess with the long bangs that frame your face, ruffling them out of position. "Fine with me if it's fine with you."

"Well, yanno," you begin to tease as you knock your fringe back into place. "I'm just across the hallway from Jimin. Easy access."

All very suddenly, Jeongguk's eyes get a little darker. His laugh, a little more sinful. He reaches over again, just to mess your hair up. Almost fucking growls as he says, "Don't you even fuckin' think about it."

His stare lingers for a second longer than it really should, but he's surprised to see you just smirking in response to his command.

"What if I already am thinking about it?" you tease quietly.

Jeongguk looks like he's ready to drag you into the second house and fucking nail you against the front door. Looks just as hungry as he normally does when you're naked. Breathes out a stunted laugh. Shakes his head. Is about to speak, when Yoongi called his name.

"Gguk, can you do the gim-mari? My hands are full."

Closing his eyes, Jeongguk takes a deep breath. "Behave yourself this weekend."

You watch as he walks away to help fry up the seaweed rolls, satisfied with yourself for getting under his skin so spectacularly.

He's dressed down - dark sweats, big white shirt with a silky black baseball jersey layered over the top of it. Lotte Giants, of course. Reminds you of how easy it was to get him keen on the weekend in Busan. You really shouldn't thrive on riling him up so much - but it's just so much fun . Hard not to do.

There's not much time to dwindle on silly little thoughts like these, because as soon as you've finished eating, Taehyung and Danbi are shooing everyone of the main house and down towards the front gate.

Their activity, you discover as you all get out of the taxis they had ordered for you, is laser tag at a local party place, of which you're certain almost exclusively caters towards children.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Jimin moans as the assigned teams are getting into formation on opposite sides of the room. He lifts an accusing finger, and turns to the couple who has organised the whole event. "Who did this? Danbi? It was you, wasn't it?"

Her eyes are wide, and her lips are just as pouty as the accusation is correct.

Shrugging, a smirk breaches her sincere expression. "What's wrong? Scared you'll lose?"

"Scared?!" Jimin shrieks. "Danbi, this is a suicide mission."

It's not.

It's laser tag.

But Jimin is right in thinking that he'll lose, given the frankly dire state of his team.

He's on Team Purple, captained by Taehyung, who is currently sitting and smiling adoringly at the rival captain. Jimin's new arch nemesis. Or just simply, Danbi.

The rest of the team is made up of yourself, Hoseok and Seoyeon.

Standing at the helm of Team Green is Danbi. Behind her is Jeongguk, caught up in conversation with Nabi and Namjoon, while Yoongi adjusts the strap of his laser gun.

It's not a fair fight. You know this. Doesn't mean you're not gonna act offended.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" You tut, voice an octave higher than usual. "We've just as much chance of win-"

"They have Jeongguk," Jimin deadpans.

Even you can't argue against that.

"So? We've got youth, good looks, and luck on our side," you tell Jimin. "If you don't believe in yourself, then how do you expect to even stand a chance? Pull yourself together, man!"

From across the room, Jeongguk appears to be engaged in conversation, but the way he accidentally slips a laugh out at the end of your sentence gives him away. You glance in his direction, but find him looking away, hand scratching at the back of his head. He's not slick in the slightest, but he is cute. You'll give him that much.

Teams assigned, safety briefing done - with Jimin mumbling about the way he'll break each and every protocol to win - all that's left is to battle it out to the death.

Or until one of the teams loses. Same difference.

The shrouded darkness of the tag course isn't too dissimilar from Dionysus, and has a familiar intrusive scent of artificial smoke. It obscures the lights, but is quickly wafting away through the vent so as to not interrupt gameplay. Huddled around your home base, Team Purple needs all the morale it can get.

"Gguk's gonna be on the attack," Taehyung theorises. "Danbi will be floating midway - she won't want to attack but she also doesn't wanna be a lemon guarding their base. I think Joon will be their guard."

Seoyeon hums in agreement, stripes of neon face paint on her cheeks as if she's really going into combat. "What Yoongi lacks in height he makes up for in speed. He'll be attack too."

"And Nabi?" You ask. She seems to be the only unpredictable force for the Greens.

"Honestly not a-"

Taehyung's pondering is interrupted by a booming voice through the loudspeaker. "THREE."

"Fuck!"

Stupidly spending too much time contemplating Team Green's tactics has prevented Team Purple from planning anything.

"Shit," Jimin hisses.

"Seoyeon, guard - if Yoongi gets here-"

"TWO."

"- you distract him. I'll find Danbi. Hobes, DB... Just like, try not to die."

"ONE."

"Jimin, you're on attack."

" Fuck !"

You should really anticipate the way Hoseok starts flailing, and yet it still takes you by surprise just quite how loudly he screams. He has no rhyme, no reason as he runs into the maze of hidden spaces.

Taehyung curses. Looks over to you. "Whatever you do, just don't do that ."

"Roger that," you nod, retreating to a doorway that leads to the ramp up to the second story. Figuring vantage is needed, you head up there without much care. Team Green will still be over in their camp. You've enough time to take things at a leisurely pace; to figure out the blueprints. 

The layout is obscured by dozens of false walls and misleading hiding spots. There's a clear direct path into Green territory, and you spot Jimin scoping it out from another vantage spot below. Even despite the atmospheric music playing through the overhead speakers, nerves are so high it feels like a pin could drop.

Until, all rather suddenly, a gun is pressed to your back.

"Hey, B."

"Oh you motherfu-"

Before you can even finish, your vest is vibrating, the sound of a galactic gunshot echoing in the small space you're hidden in. The levels on your gun flash and dip for the first time. Across the main pathway, Hoseok is still screaming. There's no way you're winning this thing.

Twisting to face Jeongguk, you're met with his infuriatingly charming smile as his lip ring glistens in the selective lighting.

"How are you so quiet?!"

"You've been to my parent's house," he smirks, glancing down to check your levels are still flashing on your gun. Shrugging, he's quite clearly smug with his hit. "You know how thin the walls are. Learned to be light on my feet."

Unable to shoot back while you're still in 'recovery' mode, Jeongguk knows he has a little time to indulge in you. Makes the most of it.

"You know, you actually look really hot like this," he tells you, nodding at the combat gear. Gets a little closer. Clearly is still a little riled up from the way you'd teased him that morning. Taking a step back, you find yourself against the wall - which suits you fine. One less area of weakness. "Like, stupidly hot."

"You're fraternising with the enemy, Jeon," you whisper as he gets closer enough to nudge his nose up against yours. Jeongguk lets his laser gun fall slack over his shoulder. Has his hand beneath your jaw, thumb stroking up onto your cheek.

He nods. Brushes his lips against you as he husks, "That's kinda hot, too."

"Oh, c'mon," Yoongi whinges from the entryway in equal parts disgust and disappointment. He'd been expecting to find someone on the lookout, and also knew Jeongguk would likely have been on a similar route - he just didn't expect to find you two so bloody cosy. As his own hand slaps against his thigh, he's speechless. Just wails, "Really, Gguk?!"

Jeongguk doesn't wanna turn around. Can feel his cheeks flaming a shade so deep it could rival the red laser of his gun, which is currently pointing towards the floor.

A moment of weakness. A rarity.

One you'd be stupid to not indulge in.

You swiftly lean around Jeongguk. Whip your gun into position. Aim straight for Yoongi's chest and beam as brightly as a thousand suns when his vest begins to flash.

But you know Jeongguk has realised what you've done - and so at the speed of absolute lightning, you twist your gun back on itself and shoot at the target on Jeongguk's back. The vibrations ripple against you too, as both men curse you out, unable to get their own back while they're in 'recovery' mode.

Pulling yourself away from Jeongguk, you bolt for the entryway Jeongguk must have come from. "Bye, boys!"

You beeline straight for your home base, as you know that's where they'll be off to next. Seoyeon's still in position. Aims for you, until she realises you're on her team.

"Oh my god," she exclaims, and it sounds as if she's been holding her breath for hours. "I've been so scared. You never know who's gonna come round the corner!"

Nodding, you come to stand by her. "Gguk and Yoongi are upstairs. I got them both. Think they're gonna be looking for revenge."

And as you feel your vest vibrate with no indication of where a shot came from, you're proven right. Seoyeon chirps in surprise as her vest does the same.

"You bastard," you grin as Jeongguk walks into frame, and leans against a partition wall with all the casual arrogance you'd expect from him.

"Don't hate the player, baby. Hate the game."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[ohnomyhooves]

Thoughts on the headcannons that doffy is colorblind and that’s part of why his fashion sense is Like That and that corazon is so unbalanced bcos he suffered a traumatic brain injury in the same event where doffy got an arrow in his eye and cora was only normal kid levels of klutzy before that and got much worse after

Firstly I'm so sorry if it took me ages to reply, I didn't get notified of this in my inbox at all!🥹

Also, I do like both of those theories– in my opinion there is definitely something about his eyes that Doffy is deliberately hiding, whether a natural 'flaw' or an injury.

On Doffy's eyes;

I think the arrow to the eye was quite clear, it's hard to imagine he could get away from something like that completely unscathed. The only question though if this is the case is why he was wearing glasses before any of that happened. My guess is either:

- he had some kind of eye defect from birth, something that he possibly saw as this huge flaw for a high and mighty Celestial Dragon. Perhaps colour blindness from birth, or heterochromia, or partial blindness etc.

- this is self-indulgent and unnecessarily cute (sue me!) but I also like to think that maybe he was just attached to the glasses themselves as an item, the way small kids get overly attached to things and just don't let them go for a long phase I.e a favourite piece of clothing they insist on wearing everywhere or an impractical accessory.

In either case, I can see that after his injury he started wearing glasses all the time for a totally different reason; to hide an injury that was now a bigger flaw than anything else because it was definite proof of weakness. Whatever he's hiding behind those glasses I refuse to believe he's not touchy and secretive about it. I think the HC that Doflamingo actually has perfectly normal eyes under there and is just an Extra Bitch is hilarious!! BUT considering that he got to keep them even at Impel Down, and I believe the wiki says that Tsuru got him a new pair before he was tossed in jail, they must be pretty important to him/ the Marines who arrested him for that little while his eyes were bare probably saw something that they knew Doflamingo would get Touchy and Dangerous about so they wanted to cover it right back up and pretend they hadn't seen anything.

BUT I'M GOING ON A TANGENT! To answer your actual question, I've never considered that his sense of fashion is so atrocious because he could be colourblind. Like, I just thought it was atrocious because his personality involves being the centre of attention all the time– sitting on the fcking table at warlord meetings, crowning himself King of Dressrosa and throwing massive celebrations in his honour, his behaviour at Marineford– but now that you mention it I like that possibility! I would have to look up how people with colourblindness perceive colours, I think, to get deeper into it; for example, if he doesn't perceive his horrid feather coat as being pink the way other people see it, what colour does it look like to him, what aesthetic exactly is he going for? Doflamingo would 100% not care if other people's visual senses were assaulted in his quest to look good to himself so that's fascinating.

On Cora's clumsiness;

I totally REFUSE to believe he was exaggerating this or playing it up for the sake of his cover. His accidents are too inconveniently timed for that to be the case, like when it got him in trouble when he was stealing the Op Op Fruit...(ouch😭)

He says he's always been clumsy since birth but his klutzness is simply next level, so it really makes sense that it's the result of some traumatic injury. If it was simply a childhood trait I think it would get better with time, not significantly worse; AND, I know we didn't see much of him as a child, but there wasn't any time child Rosi was depicted as being that clumsy. I believe the only time he ever showed clumsiness was when he tripped and fell into a treasure chest one time(?) in one of the very first scenes of their family before they moved out of Marie Jois, but that's like. On a totally believable level for a child. His clumsiness is such an integral element of his character as an adult that I think they would've highlighted it in his younger self.

So! Yes, I agree with that headcanon ;-; poor Rosi...

Thank you for submitting such a fun ask! I do enjoy yapping about them XD

[nyoomerr]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤

thank you for thinking of me as a favorite author you'd want to pass this on to <3

right now, i'd probably say the fics that i'm most pleased with are (not in any order outside of "what was published most recently") -

stuffed with fluff (and blood and bones and rage) in which bingge is forced to watch without doing anything as sy critiques and obsesses over his life, eventually becoming obsessed with sy's own obsession of him. i struggle a lot with lbh POVs, and right now, i think this is the best one i've done, so i'm happy :>

raised by winter winds in which a sy that was half-raised by sj grapples with the past affection he's felt for sj pitted against the knowledge that sj has hurt a lot of people, including sy's new favorite manipulative little shidi, lbh. in the past, i've not really bothered to put much effort into writing sj tbh - i've used him as a convenient plot point in binggeyuan's relationship before, but that's about it. this fic i considered it more seriously, and i think sums up all my feelings about sj as a character quite nicely. i ended up rly liking the overall melancholy tone of this fic too :')

if you don't have your own boyfriend, rented is fine in which bingge reverse transmigrates to chase after the "nice" shizun he met... but doesn't recognize sy for who he is, and the misunderstanding is only made worse when sy mistakes bingge for a cosplayer. neither of them realize the truth of the matter until they've grown to care for each other and choose each other regardless. ik that probably no one wants to hear this, but i don't really like "to love another (and to learn yourself)" much anymore 🙈 it's been years since i wrote it, and since then both my writing style and preferences for how binggeyuan are characterized have shifted fairly dramatically. this rent a bingge fic was really satisfying to write as proof to myself that i can write a "bingge finds his own sy" longfic in a way that i do like, now.

i'll be your boy backstage in which a transmigrated-into-an-NPC shen yuan only finds bingge long after the story is over, and after the ge vs mei extra has happened. bingge latches on to sy quickly, but even after he figures it out, sy has very different expectations for what a relationship might look like. the conversation at the end of this fic where sy tries to work through his asexuality with bingge was very cathartic for me. i'd love to one day do a much longer fic in which bingge, who has been taught his whole life that love is expressed through sex, falls for ace!sy and struggles with it. i think it would have to be bingge's pov to be most impactful, though, so i've been putting it off >.>;;

shallow water weather in which mer!binghe joins mer!shen yuan's pod, and as soon as he knows sy has the capacity to genuinely care for him, skips straight from "unfriendly acquaintance" to "courtship partner." i'm a really big fan of creature AUs in which the characters' behaviors are influenced a lot by creature instincts and behavior, so all the mer behavior in this one is super self indulgent hehe

...it's perhaps not a surprise that most of my self favorites are the most recent ones i've written. every step you take is an improvement, etc etc. anyway, thank you again for thinking of me when you sent this ask in, and i apologize for how long it took me to get to it!

[snorky]

absolutely obsessed with the way you wrote mason lohrei, could you write smth for him again please? 🫶🏻

There Was Salt Rubbed Into My Wounds, And You Washed It Off With The Freshwater River

Hey y’all! And hi hi, and thank you to the lovely requester, I appreciate the kind message :) Here is another Mason Lohrei fic, but this time, a little more angsty (with comfort of course) and perhaps self indulgent. I hope this one is a little better, more put together than the last, and I also hope you all enjoy this fic, and remember to take care of yourself!

Pairing: Mason Lohrei x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Angst, Reader with bad romantic history (oops), Misunderstandings, (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

—

—

It was late in the night, much later than they should’ve been staying up under the covers, but they couldn’t help it. The tears seemed to run down their face almost nonstop since they let their thoughts spiral, probably from something they could’ve easily avoided if they hadn’t scrolled through old texts.

Their bed felt cold and empty as they sobbed quietly, trying to not wake their roommates up at this hour, and they knew their eyes were going to be puffy and tired by morning.

And when morning rolled around after they had fallen asleep shortly after from what they assumed one in the morning, they felt sluggish and tired, eyes struggling to open at the light that passed through their curtains.

It was a bad habit to grab their phone first thing in the morning, but they couldn't help it. It was a routine that fell into their hectic life, and this was one of the few things that made it feel like the calm before a storm.

They noticed a message from their long-time friend, Mason, bright and centered on their screen, grabbing their attention.

Hey, lunch at 11 in the Main Hall? - Mason

Typing back a reply, their mind wasn’t made up yet and still fuzzy from the night before.

That’s a brunch, not lunch if it’s that early.

Aw, okay. Brunch? - Mason

I’ll think about it, feeling a little tired :( 

Okay, see you at 11, I’ll get you coffee :) - Mason

A small smile tugged at the corner of their lips from how thoughtful and knowing he was, having seemingly memorized every little detail of them at the top of his head like a favorite poem.

Slowly, they made their way out of bed, freshening up in the bathroom and changing into clothes that reminded them a little less about the night before, but still cozy and within their comfort zone.

The commute from their dorm to the Main Hall was less than ten minutes by walking, and since winter was just easing into spring, the trees on their route were starting to bloom with softly vibrant pinks and white, fluttering in the air and onto the grassy-green ground dreamily.

It was the little things that made their days a little brighter, and perhaps even reminded them of Mason, all the little lovely things. 

Although, they couldn’t risk their friendship over some lingering feelings. It was a lesson, all too well-known, almost a pure resemblance of the fall of Icarus, too close to warmth and then the wings melt away.

A common fairy tale that they ended up getting caught in, over and over again, heartache a taste they knew.

When they arrived at the Main Hall, it was crowded, but not overly crowded to the point where they settled on staying home. Searching through the crowd, it was easy for them to spot Mason, his presence something that they could recognize in a heartbeat.

“Mason.” They spoke his name warmly, having it settled on their tongue like a second home as they sat down across from him.

He smiled sweetly and repeated the gesture, sliding them their go-to coffee order as he did so.

Taking a sip of their drink, they smiled at him, appreciation for the kind act, yet their eyes still felt a little tired. “Thanks for the drink, I would’ve grabbed you a pastry from the bakery down the street but the line looked a little hectic,” they apologized, face hot and tears threatening to form.

The look on his face was gentle and forgiving, something that seemed so fitting for him, a perfect saint. “Don’t worry about it, we can always go together to get a treat, yeah?”

They nodded in agreement, grateful for his patience that was a notable characteristic of his, and yet they always appreciated it, having known too many people with quite the opposite demeanor.

As they both headed out of the Main Hall and started walking towards the bakery side-by-side, the sunlight beamed down warmly on the both of them, much needed after a few weeks of gloomy, rainy weather.

Lost in thought, their mind never seemed to settle, always rushing like a river current, and it felt like forever since they last felt at ease. They always said that they needed a vacation, but they never truly realized how badly they actually needed one.

Assignments after assignments, quizzes and tests and exams, everything seemed to pile up endlessly as they were waiting for the next break like a gasp of air.

Bumping into Mason’s arm, they snapped back to reality, realizing that they almost walked right into oncoming traffic if it wasn’t for him.

“Careful.” His tone was authoritative, but in a way that emphasized his worry. “Are you alright?”

Simply nodding, they didn’t trust their voice to come out as reassuring as they wanted it to be. It would reveal their true feelings, brittle and vulnerable, something they have tried so hard to hide.

And he knew, he knew their little signals by heart. He knew that he shouldn’t try to pry further for now, despite every part of his mind telling him to.

It was a little disheartening for him to be unable to do anything, mainly out of fear of being shut down or coming off as weird, but deep down, he knew that time would slowly pass, and they would eventually open up.

When they both arrived at the bakery, the smell of fresh baked goods was warm and homey, welcoming with open arms. The overhead lights were golden, nostalgic and comforting, but just not enough.

“Which ones do you want, Mason? It’s on me.” They spoke quietly as they rummaged through their bag, searching for their wallet.

He placed his hand gently on their shoulder, causing them to look up at him. His touch felt electric, but in the sense that it grounded them, comfort, but they would never openly admit it. “It’s okay, I’ll pay,”

“No, Mason, I assure you—”

“I assure you, I’ll pay,” he chuckled, pulling out his wallet from his pocket. “I’m not going to end up broke over some treats, m’kay? Let me spoil you a bit,”

They gave a lopsided smile at his wording, still unsure on whether or not they should let him pay. He already got them a coffee earlier today, and they didn’t want to feel like any more of a burden.

He noticed their slight unease, but tried to reassure them once more. “Please?”

“Alright, just this time, okay?”

A bright smile appeared on his face, which in return, caused them to smile as well.

As the worker packed their pastries into a bag, they both stood in front of the cashier, waiting to pay for their food. The silence felt like it was causing some discomfort however, as if it was an omen of something terrible to come, like calm before a storm.

Mason looked over at them, noticing their tired and swollen eyes, noticing how much more dull it seemed. His face warped into concern, searching for a solution, or at this point, answers, the big why to everything. He wanted to make them seem brighter, better. He didn’t want to see them like this.

“You okay? Your eyes look puffy.” As soon as the words fell out of his mouth, he regretted it. A pit fell in his stomach as it churned uncomfortably, and his face was hot in embarrassment.

Their face seemed to freeze at his question as they tried to muster up their voice, hardly audible. “Yeah, no. I’m okay, just a little tired,” they laughed lightly. They tried to wipe at the tears that were forming in the corners of their eyes secretly, but it was little to no use as it was quite obvious. 

It sounded more like self-reassurance rather than an answer, and it felt extremely awkward for the both of them as they waited for their food. 

His actions, or words rather, had the opposite reaction of what he wanted, and he desperately wanted to turn time back and take his words back.

When the cashier handed them their food, they both left and headed back towards the campus, not speaking for the entire way back. Despite the sound of the busy roads or other campus students chatting and talking, it all felt so false, something was off about it all.

And yet silence hung between them, haunting them as words were unspoken. The tension in the air was disgustingly thick, and it suffocated him, but more so, it made them feel beyond terrible.

Tears pricked their eyes again, threatening to fall and roll down their cheeks to mock them, and their breaths were unsteady, uncertain.

“Hey, um—” Their voice seemed to waver, faltering and crumbling in that moment. “I need to grab something I left at my house, I’ll see you later,” they blurted, heading off in the opposite direction away from him.

Their soul felt crushed and guilty about leaving him within seconds, throwing plans away as if they meant nothing, despite it meaning so much to them, being able to spend time with him.

Arriving home, they went back into their room, tears now rushing down their face freely as they cried. Their body felt exhausted as they tried to lay down in bed, tired and worn out. 

The phone buzzed beside them on the mattress, an irritating noise that made them want to crawl under the covers and hide forever as the guilt clawed away at them. They knew it was him texting, trying to check up on them, but they couldn’t bring themselves to respond within the moment.

As their tears eased to a stop after a few minutes, their eyelids felt heavy, causing them to sleep for the next few hours or so until they woke up again.

Mason was calling them, and they debated on whether or not they should pick up the phone, unsure of his reaction to their odd behavior.

“Hello?” Their voice was still groggy and tired, but they tried to clear their throat again.

“Hi, I wanna check in on you real quick. Are you feeling better?” His tone was still caring as ever, seemingly as if nothing ever happened earlier that day.

“Yeah, I’m okay, sorry for earlier—”

“Please, please, please, you don’t have to apologize. We all have our bad days, yeah?” He was comforting and soothing, somehow making their guilt about earlier disappear entirely, a weight lifting off of their shoulders.

They wanted to tear up at how thoughtful and considerate he was, but they held back, appreciating his actions within the moment. “Mason, you’re too sweet,”

“I try,” he chuckled. “But that’s not the point. My point of calling was to make sure that you’re okay.”

“I am okay, Mason. I promise,”

“Good, now please open the front door before your roommates get to me.”

They felt a slight panic before realizing that Mason never really quite cared about how messy they looked, ever, especially within the past few recent years of their friendship.

Opening the door, he stood there with a large bouquet of flowers, plus a few of their favorite snacks, and a rosy cheeked face that screamed how truly flustered he was.

“Listen, please let me in before your roommates bully the both of us,” he pleaded.

Motioning for him to come in, they closed the door after he came inside, and turned around to see him standing there awkwardly, as if he was going to ask a question.

“Mason, what is all of this for?”

He took a deep breath in, face still pink and blushed. “So like, you deserve a good time, and I think that would be dinner for the both of us, and it doesn’t have to be tonight!” 

They gave him a skeptical look, unsure of his intentions. “Go on,”

“We can watch movies and relax at home, which is why I brought snacks,” he explained. “Listen, I just think you deserve the best and everything, like, I want to treat you right and not just as a friend, but more,”

Thinking for a moment, they tried to puzzle the pieces together as well as they could, hoping that it wouldn’t be a mixed signal, and that his confession was exactly as it sounded like. “So, a date?”

“Yes, please. That’s what I meant.” He swallowed nervously, afraid and awaiting a response.

“Well, Mason. I think that it would be a brilliant idea,” they smiled, accepting the bouquet from his hands. “Oh, and lucky for us, my roommates are visiting family.”

A smile appeared on his face, “Movie time?”

“Movie time.”