#You really don't need to know this in the tags for this one though

[digiflora]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘!

ꪆৎ choso ⸝⸝ sukuna ⸝⸝ gojo ⸝⸝ ino wc.

summary. life as a streamer creates all sorts of potential interactions- whether between other creatives, or just some random person in a csgo lobby...

contains! ꪆৎ streamer au ⸝⸝ cosplayer reader (choso) ⸝⸝ some suggestiveness + downbadness lmfao ⸝⸝ nerdjo my beloved

𐔌 gia's notes! ☆⌒(ゝ。∂) woioi chat. i've been on such a 2020 first lockdown nostalgic kick recently im ngl... hence the title of this fic LOL. and lowkey the content too 😞 you can kinda tell that i ran out of steam while writing this... but o well

streamer!choso [@/ch0k4m0] who is relatively well known- technically, for his gaming abilities, though what solidified his online fame was his rather candid commentary, with seemingly no filter between his thoughts and the words that come out of his mouth. that, and his looks which had broken the internet when he had face revealed, catapulting him from a fairly unknown but well loved streamer to regularly getting hundreds of thousands of views on his streams.

his current streams mostly consisted of him working his way through resident evil. viewers could expect to see a decent progression within each stream due to choso not being completely useless at playing the game, alongside his dumb comments diminishing the fear factor of the franchise ever so slightly. and of course, his ever so subtle crush on the character ada wong.

'chat oh my GOD i've never been so in love with some pixels before'

'ada baby please, just one chance. i know that i'm 3d and you're 2d but we'll make it work'

every time a cutscene of her plays, there's an absolute torrent of messages and donations teasing him for his poorly hidden crush, ones that choso takes the time to properly read through during his breaks in the stream. such an occasion happens now, with choso reading out some random comments when a new donation rings out, the text to speech voice that comes with it bearing a demand

'choso you need to look up this account RIGHT NOW and look at the video they just posted'

his brow furrows as he reads the username, deliberating on whether he should actually follow those instructions or if his viewer was just trying to mess with him. ultimately, he conceded to his chat's wishes and opened a new browser window, typing it in.

a mere few hours later after the stream, you found your notifications to be blowing up more than usual. you had posted a new cosplay video earlier today, but even then there was a little TOO many notifications to be your usual audience. you noticed that you had been tagged in an edit, inclining you to click on that before wading through the likes and comments. every time that you received one it was a special kind of joy, with the knowledge that someone enjoyed your cosplays enough to inspire them to make something. you hear the music begin to fade in once the edit loads, though the intro clip has you confused as you don't think that you've seen it before.

obviously, you recognise choso, the handsome and funny streamer who got really popular recently, and one that you have unfortunately joined many others in appointing as your resident e-crush. you weren't big on watching streams, but every time a clip of choso appears when you scroll, you can't help but watch the whole thing, partially for its entertainment value, and partially because of just how cute the guy looked on your phone screen.

so really, it was quite the surreal experience to hear your username fall from his lips as the clip plays on your phone, and you watch the edit in disbelief

'am i spelling this right, chat?'

'and the latest video, right- oh it's, holy fuck-"

the beat then kicks in. clips of your ada wong cosplay flashing across the screen, one final flashbang of choso's face as he watches your video with an almost comical expression of awe. you're left absolutely flabbergasted as the video begins to loop, clicking on the comments to see what the hell was going on

'get in damn line choso 😩'

'BROOOODJFNSJG I WAS WATCHING THE STREAM AND I JUST KNEWWWWW SOMEONE WAS GONNA MAKE AN EDIT WITH THAT CLIP 😭😭😭'

'the stream was like 2 hours ago this edit was so fast wtf'

'it should have been meeeeeee ughhh'

'the way choso scrolled thru her ENTIRE account and then followed her... that man's finally got a crush on a real personnnnn'

that last comment captures your attention specifically, and sure enough, you see his username amongst your many new followers. it pays to get noticed by a popular streamer, you suppose.

and then, to your utmost surprise, you also see his name pop up within your dm requests

@/ch0k4mo: sooo are you in need of a leon kennedy by any chance

the dm isn't exactly suave, but it has its intended effect as you blink at your screen as you process it, finally letting out a squeal of excitement, screenshotting the message shamelessly. your friends are not gonna believe this. and then, only after running laps around your room and waiting for your erratic heartrate to return to a normal tempo, you type out a shaky response.

@/yn: funny that you ask that, cos i had a few video ideas in mind ;)

you can only hope that on the other end of the line, choso is having a somewhat similar reaction to yours.

streamer!sukuna [@/kingkuna] who is notorious for causing chaos online, whether on fps games such as cs and valorant, or even on the more inane roblox games where he makes a living off of terrorising little kids. actions speak louder than words, though the streamer is quick to utilise both when instilling terror on whichever server has the misfortune of having him

'i do this for the love of the game, chat'

'well, that, and because bullying little runts is fun'

all of these actions, streamed live every wednesday and friday, helped to garner sukuna a rather.... distinct reputation.

despite being considered an asshole for all intents and purposes, sukuna had somehow amassed a following, all from his persona of being an online troll.

so this week's particular stream was especially shocking to his fans for all of the wrong reasons.

it started off like any other stream, sukuna casually reading off the odd message in his chat whilst preparing for the stream, retorting some snarky comment that has the chat getting more and more riled up, all with a shit-eating grin on his face.

it was more or less a love-hate relationship between him and his chat, though everyone seemed happy with the dynamic, expecting no less from the streamer.

this stream in particular was particularly anticipated, if the steadily increasing viewcount in the corner was anything to go off of, probably due to the fact that this wasn't quite like his other streams. despite the countless hours of his content, very little was known about sukuna, and as a 1 million subscriber goal, the man had acquiesced to people's demands for a q&a.

it started off as well as it could have, with rather generic questions rolling out. but of course, knowing sukuna's audience (and his lenient moderators), some raunchier ones started to worm their way through

'does it... jiggle when i walk? mods, get this clown out of here'

sukuna rattles through the questions, his fans clearly revelling in his embarrassing childhood stories, in the knowledge that his hair is not dyed, and how he views his streams as training to continue defeating his nephew in fortnite whenever they play together.

and then, finally, the fated question

'kingkuna i have to know for all the ladies out there... do u have a gf??'

it's a special donation message, one that rattles off loud and clear in a way that absolutely cannot be missed, though with the amount of time it takes for him to respond, he may as well have.

'hm, wouldn't you like to know?'

there's a torrent of outraged messages, before a deep booming laugh emits from the man.

'ehhh, i'm just fucking with you. of course i do, she's my forever girl.'

there's another torrent of messages in chat, though they're now oohing and ahhing at just how uncharacteristically sweet the streamer is being. his eyes flit over the incoming messages, his grin widening as his gaze lifts to somewhere beyond the webcam's reach.

there's a silent exchange, no words needed before sukuna reclines back in his chair, his legs spreading as he makes room for whoever's coming into frame.

'she's right here, too. everyone say hi to y/n'

and when she situates herself right on his lap and his arm wraps around her waist, the chat goes crazy. the streamer seems to remember his regular image, cackling at the desperate onslaught of messages eager to get even a morsel of information about the two of you, instead starting to click away at the preparations needed before he ends the stream

'oh would you look at the time, looks like i'll be having to end the stream now. see you suckers on wednesday'

'byeeeee!'

you can't help but chime in, giggling and waving right at the camera before the stream shuts off, and you feel sukuna begin to truly relax into his chair, shuffling you impossibly closer to his chest, hugging you to him and burying his face against you.

'aww, you big baby'

'dunno what you're talking about'

you giggle at your boyfriend's antics, though definitely used to them by now. instead, you get comfy, letting sukuna use you as his personal pillow as you card through his hair with one hand, the other unlocking your phone and you begin to scroll through twitter. #kingkuna1m was already trending thanks to the premise of his livestream, and you can't help but click on the tag, looking through some of the most recent tweets.

'never would i EVER have expected SUKUNA of all ppl to be relationship goals'

'praying on his downfall fr 🙏🙏🙏 he doesn't know how good he has it'

'he's so EVIL for ending the stream like that omfg'

'the way he looks at her IM SICKKKKK ☹️☹️☹️☹️'

that last one comes with a video, a hasty screen recording of those last few moments of the stream as you wave at the camera, though you're focusing on the shamelessly lovestruck expression on sukuna's face as he watches you. it's enough to have you giggling and kicking your feet right in his lap, and he grumbles, his spare hand catching onto your flailing ankle

'quit squirming, brat'

'but you're just so cute, kunaaa'

you show him your phone screen, and it's your turn to study his face as he looks at the video impassively, though he can't hide the little twitch of his lips.

'my camera must be faulty, gotta get a new one'

streamer!gojo [@/sago] who is affectionately known by his fans for being a big fat nerd. it's not like he tries to hide it, the background of his setup decorated avidly with all sorts of posters and memorabilia from his favourite shows and games. compared to other streamers, too, gojo wasn't one to particularly shy away from details of his personal life, his laidback and easygoing persona making it easy for people to become regular viewers of his streams.

on said streams it was commonplace for his chat to ask him questions about himself, and more often than not he would give them an answer- and on one of these such occasions is when he let slip the fact that he had a roommate. and that in itself isn't anything too worldbreaking to hear, but it's the way he almost lights up as he mentions your name that has his fans intrigued.

even more interesting is gojo's reluctance, for lack of a better word, about relinquishing more information about you. how quick he is to change the subject, or act as if he never read the original message at all.

and in an impressive effort which has the streisand effect in strong contention to be renamed to the gojo effect, this only further instils a need for his fans to know everything that they possibly could about you.

it's arguably one of his most well-loved bits with an incredibly long longevity, with a large amount of fanmade compilations of him at least alluding to it

'who's my roommate? i'll let you know when i find out'

'come back with a warrant, fed'

'that's some very personal information there which i would be hesitant to spread online. what do you MEAN i was telling you all about where i grew up 2 minutes ago-'

(you get the picture)

therefore, it's a rare and delightful treat whenever a new tidbit about you is let slip by the streamer. the day that your name got accidentally revealed by him on stream was a day for the books. and of course, since gojo's fans were deranged, your insta account and subsequent face reveal were soon to follow.

and once the cat was out of the bag, gojo seemed to begrudgingly relax about your secrecy. you started popping up in streams a bit more often, usually just a face peeking in to the room of gojo's setup, a sneaky wave that satoru would notice later and grin to himself about. he's got a highlight reel of your appearances on his twitch profile that he likes to rewatch more than he cares to admit.

one time, he even had you sat next to him during a just chatting stream, the two of you shooting the shit. his fans were quick to point out how red the tips of his ears were throughout the whole stream. and how he looked at you like you hung the moon and stars whenever you spoke. and how he kept looking at you like that even when you weren't speaking.

it was never official, but satoru's feelings for you were.. rather obvious to anyone with the time to tune in to his streams. his touchiness regarding you seemed to make a lot more sense now, and became the newest aspect of satoru's life for his chat to ruthlessly mock.

today was just a regular stream- some mindless shooter game that satoru was way too invested in, no mentions or guest appearances of you. until now.

the door opened in the background of the stream- satoru's eyes flick up just before the door even moves, as if he had a sixth sense just for you- and you storm into the room, closer to annoyed than your usual cheery self.

'toru, you forgot to take out the bins. they're being collected tomorrow so don't leave it too late

and just like that, you're gone again. there's not even an ounce of hesitation before satoru is getting up from his desk, headphones coming off despite the yells of his teammates for him to stop fucking around and help them rush a.

chat is making their usual comments, a spam of their love for you and excitement that you've made an appearance. a few keener watchers were geeking over the toru nickname that's sure to make their way into the next y/n and gojo compilation video.

and despite all of this, satoru's heading out of the room.

'my girl's mad at me guys, i gotta go fix it'

and he's only gone for a few minutes, at most. but it's like an implosion of oncoming messages, all scrolling past his screen with no eyes to see them.

gojospinkietoe: FIRST TORU THEN MY GIRL!!!???? OHHHH MY GOD 🥺🥺🥺

iwatchmen: the gojoyn fans are gonna loveeee this

gojoyn5evrrr: SOMEONE CLIP THAT

funnily enough, satoru doesn't even realise the slipup until he's almost back to his room. at least he can blame the blush this time on having to have gone outside very briefly.

it's not exactly the same as his usual slipups when it comes to you- usually, there's at least an element of truth to them, but this appears to be sourced from somewhere deeper in his brain, a lot more of a subconscious desire that he hoped wouldn't breach into the conscious realm.

not until he was ready, at least.

streamer!ino [@/yunglean4ever] who's more of an up and coming streamer.. but he's slowly and steadily making his way up the rankings!! his game of choice is usually an fps, with his default usually being csgo. or something like that. he enjoys the straightforward nature of it. and teabagging his opponents when he's in the mood to be a little shit.

during these livestreams he's met many a different player, some friendlier than the regular silence or automatic irritated mood that most seemed to have- or some russian guy screaming words into the mic that was anyone's guess as to what it meant.

and while interacting with said teammates is always a promising aspect of entertainment, ino wasn't one to remember most of these interactions, save for a few especially distinct ones.

one such occasion is when he meets you. you've got your mic on, which is always more appealing for ino than having to communicate via typing or reading chats, and even better is the almost instant connection that the two of you make. you giggle at his silly username, he indignantly defends his love for drain gang, and the rest is history.

one match played together turns into a friend request, which turns into becoming a party, which turns into playing duos, which turns into goving each other your discords, which turns into many more rounds which extend way after ino ends his stream.

it was merely a start to this new... something, but with the way that ino caught himself laughing a little too hard at your mildly funny jokes, he had a feeling that it would turn into something much more.

so when he boots up his pc the next day, it's not much surprise to him that there's some giddy emotion that he feels when he says a message from you

'wanna play? had a lot of fun last night w u :D'

he couldn't type out a response fast enough to contain his excitement.

⋆˚࿔ jjk masterlist

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ... or, try reading hopelessly devoted to you

[griseldafandom21]

Yeah, the problem OP is describing is fandomwide. It's so prevalent that Ao3 has character tags specifically for JoJo's versions of the Links and Zeldas, and people use them in their non-links-meet fics as if the nicknames are canon.

It's so prevalent, I haven't worked up any motivation to draw and share any Link art, outside of when I drew my oc!Link last year.

I don't read fic or scroll Zelda art as often as I did, because most stuff is LU and BotW/TotK.

I know most people can't afford Nintendo switch online, or find/afford retro consoles to play the other games, but like, there's walkthroughs on YouTube. I've only personally played Zelda 1, ALTTP, Twilight Princess, AOC and Skyward Sword, but I've experienced BotW/TotK, Hyrule Warriors, Majora's Mask, OOT, Wind Waker and ALBW through walkthroughs. If I can do it, none of y'all have an excuse, especially if you spend any significant portion of your day scrolling YouTube anyway. Hop off the bandwagon for a bit and experience some canon Zelda.

As I was writing this post, I ended up ranting. I'm not going to delete the rant since I really need to get it out, but I'm putting it under the cut.

By the way, even though I've been oversaturated with Linked Universe content, I don't resent LU the way I usually loathe and resent other things I'm oversaturated with. What are those other things? Ketchup, cheese and BotW/TotK. I can only have those things in small doses now, because the oversaturation caused me to realize that those things aren't that good.

Everyone is obsessed with the Champions and Sages of BotW/TotK, but freaking Link is the only character with any personality, the only one who enters the third dimension at any point, and he got the amnesiac trope! I could name every. Single. Anime trope each character in BotW/TotK embodies. Why? Because there was no nuance layered onto these characters. They are a trope and that's all. The story of BotW/TotK doesn't tug any heartstrings, nor do anything particularly ambitious or memorable, beyond sticking in my mind as more lackluster than the plotlines of Zelda 1 and 2 without game manuals.

Then there's the fact that Hyrule Warriors is a better Zelda game than BotW/TotK, and it's a hack and slash game.

BotW/TotK is an open world videogame in which aspects of The Legend Of Zelda show up in as cameos.

At least Linked Universe (the comic by JoJo, not the LU fics y'all churn out like Disney pumping out mcu movies) is written with love and appreciation for what came before. That's why I still like LU, but only really interact with TotK through its soundtrack.

For crying put loud, LU even acts like the timeline matters! Unlike BotW/TotK, which are too cool (trash) for that!

LU has depth and awesome visuals. BotW/TotK think they they can survive off visuals alone.

BITING. "Well in Linked Universe" "Well in the LU fandom" Shut up! Stop! Its a *fan comic*. Its a Good fancomic, but its not canon and its not mine either! Get off me! Legend of zelda is almost 40 years old and has so much stuff please just LOOK at it! Im Tired!

[mafiadad5]

Teach me to not love || L. HC (part 1)

𐙚 fuckboy!haechan x fem!reader (ft. best friend jaemin)

Part 1 | Part 2 (coming June 30th) | Part 3 (coming soon)

𐙚 synopsis- Jaemin’s out for revenge after Haechan slept with the girl he liked. You’re just supposed to be a distraction, something pretty to keep Haechan’s mind off of what Jaemin was doing. He’s cute, addictive— you should stay away… you really should, but when he touches you like that how are you supposed to remember what’s right?

𐙚 genre- college au, smut/ porn with plot (MDNI 18+), angst, slight fluff.

𐙚 warnings- drug use, alcohol use, sex under the influence, lost of virginity, protected sex, oral (fem receiving), marking, praising, sorta rough sex, arguing, slight sexual Jaemin moment, mention of death.

𐙚 W/c- 14k

Now playing- House of balloons/ Glass table girls- The Weeknd

a/n- hi guys! I really wanted to post this all in one part, but tumblr had other plans loll. I’ve poured months (and a few breakdowns T.T) into this, so I really hope you enjoy it! let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part, and I’d love to hear what you think <3

══════════════════════════

It was a typical Thursday night—  your desk lamp casted a soft glow over your notes as you flipped through flashcards for your biology test. You were focused, head down as you muttered terms under your breath, determined to cram as much into your brain as humanly possible before crashing, then came the voice.

"Oh, Y/n!!!"

Your door flew open with no hesitation. You didn't even have time to respond before Jaemin strolled in like he owned the place, grinning from ear to ear.

"What the fuck." You muttered under your breath, barely looking up as he waltzed in and flopped himself onto your bed. 

"Jaemin, what are you doing here— how did you even get in?" You asked, spinning in your chair with a look of disapproval stretched across your face.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Your hot roommate let me in."

You raised a brow. "The one who has a crush on you?"

"The one I may fuck." He said with a grin as he stretched out, hands behind his head, settling in like he had no plans of leaving anytime soon.

"Ok, yuck. Didn't you literally fuck the other one?" You said flatly, turning back to your desk, scooping up your stack of color coded flashcards with a sigh. "Seriously though, what are you doing here? I told you I'm locking in tonight."

"You lock in every night." He said, dragging out a dramatic sigh.

"And that's why our intelligence levels are not in the same bracket." You joked, a small smirk appearing on your lips, even though your eyes stayed focused on the pile in front of you.

"So you don't love me, I guess?" He asked, his voice tilting into that overly dramatic tone you knew too well.

"Exactly." You said, spinning around to face him again.

"Wow... so cold. After ten years of friendship, this is how I'm treated? Unrequited love, what a tragedy." He said, clutching his chest, face twisted in fake agony.

"I love you, Jaemin. I've loved you since we were nine. You're my best friend ever. There, happy now?" You said deadpan, raising an eyebrow.

He froze for a second, then grinned slowly. "Wow... so you really love me? Like, really love me? You'd do anything for me, because you're so in love with me, right?"

You narrowed your eyes immediately. You knew that tone, it was the 'I need something' voice.

"What do you want Jaemin?" You sighed, already regretting humoring him.

"Ugh, you know me too well. Ok, hear me out." He said sitting up now, a bright smile spreading across his face. "I need a favor. A small one— tiny really."

You crossed your arms. "What kind of favor?"

"I need you to come to a party with me tomorrow night."

You blinked. "A party? Jaemin, you know I don't do parties. Especially not when I have class the next day."

"You have class at noon on Fridays." He countered quickly. "You'll be fine."

You gave him a long, skeptical look. "So all I have to do is... go to a party with you? That's it?"

He opened his mouth and hesitated.

You instantly leaned back. "Nope... nope, you're already pushing it. What's the real reason?"

"Wait! Just... let me explain, please." He clapped his hands together in a prayer gesture.

You sighed. "Ok fine. I'm listening, speak."

He sat up straighter, his grin faltering just a bit. "There's this guy, Haechan. I'm really fucking pissed at him."

You tilted your head. "Why?"

"He slept with the girl I really liked. Like, genuinely liked, not just thought was hot liked."

"Oof, I'm sorry." You said. "And... what does that have to do with me?"

He looked at you, dead serious now. "I want revenge."

You squinted. "What kind of revenge?"

"I want you to distract him. Just talk to him, keep him downstairs at the party, keep him busy, while I... you know."

"Jaemin." You said slowly. "Distract him from what?"

He hesitated for only a second, then smiled. "From me."

Your eyes narrowed. "If you're doing anything illegal, I'm out."

"I'm trying to fuck his sister."

There was a full beat of silence as your mouth dropped open, eyes wide.

"You what— seriously?" You said, disbelief and a reluctant laugh bubbling up all at once.

"She's hot!" He defended, already laughing. "And it's perfect, he'll lose his shit when he finds out."

"You couldn't just... I don't know, hook up with a girl he likes or something? Call it even?" You asked, raising a brow.

"Yeah well, Haechan doesn't like girls." Jaemin said casually.

You blinked, your brows furrowing slightly. "...hmm?"

He held up a finger with a small smile. "Not like that, don't look at me like that."

You leaned back, smirking. "Mmm, sure."

"What I mean is, he doesn't have feelings for anyone. Not girls, not really anyone. He just uses people— gets what he wants, then tosses them aside. He's emotionally detached. Kind of fucked up, honestly."

You frowned slightly. "You're just being dramatic."

"He's dramatic!" Jaemin shot back. "The man throws house parties on Thursdays for no reason. He once invited a girl over, got head, and then called her a uber while she was still on her knees."

Your eyes widened slightly. "Damn, he sounds like a real asshole. How does someone like that have this big of a name already?"

"He's a senior." Jaemin said with a roll of his eyes. "But all he does is throw parties, drink, and do drugs. He's a loser honestly."

You exhaled. "So... all I have to do is distract him— nothing else?"

"That's it. Just talk to him, keep him downstairs for like twenty minutes. If he tries anything, call me and I'll come get you. Promise."

You bit your lip, thinking. "Ok Fine, but only this once."

"YES! Oh my god, I love you so much, you're actually the best." Jaemin said, beaming at you.

"Yeah, yeah. Now you owe me, pick up those flashcards." You said, tossing the stack into his lap as you turned back to your desk.

He caught them and gave a smile. "Delighted, my queen."

You just rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered as you reached for your pen.

══════════════════════════

You finished the final touches on your hair, giving yourself one last glance in the mirror before grabbing your phone. Right on cue, Jaemin's name lit up the screen with a text:

Jaemin [11:47 PM]:

"I'm outside."

Stepping outside, you spotted him leaning against his car, arms crossed and a grin already spreading across his face as he saw you approach.

"Damn." He said, letting his gaze travel from head to toe with an exaggerated nod of approval. "You look sexy."

"Thank you, Jaemin." You replied smoothly, brushing past him with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

He opened the passenger side door for you, but paused before you could step in. "I mean... we don't have to go right now, you know. We could go upstairs instead— chill a little, you and me... one on one." He tilted his head, giving you the same smirk he always uses when he's up to no good.

You raised your hand and snapped your fingers right in front of his face. "Focus."

"I am focused." He said, blinking slowly. "Just... not on the party anymore."

"Seriously." You said, sliding him a look as you walked to the car. "Is it your life's mission to try and sleep with every girl you meet?"

"Not every girl." He replied, shrugging as he followed behind. "Only the special ones."

You raised a brow. "And what would your mother think of you throwing yourself at someone who's practically your sister?"

"Ew, don't say it like that." He scowled, visibly shuddering. "That ruined it for me, thanks."

"Good." You smirked, climbing into the car.

He got in on the driver's side and started the engine, throwing you a side glance. "You're lucky I love you, anyone else and I'd have driven off by now in heartbreak."

"Right, so tragic." You said with fake sympathy, adjusting your seatbelt. 

Jaemin chuckled, turning up the music just enough to fill the space between you. The drive was short, maybe ten minutes at most, but the energy shifted just slightly as the neon lights of the house party came into view down the street.

He slowed the car and looked over at you. "Hey... real talk for a second."

You turned toward him, a little wary. "What?"

"I know I joke a lot." He said, eyes flicking over your face, a little more serious now. "But I'm not gonna throw you into the deep end or anything. If this gets weird or Haechan gets weird, just call me and I'll come get you, no questions."

You blinked, surprised by the softness in his voice. "Jaemin..."

"And if you wanna bail at any point." He added. "Just say the word."

A small smile appeared on your lips. "Thanks. I mean it's just a distraction mission, right? I think I can handle that."

He nodded, but his gaze lingered on you. "I know you can. You're... careful, thoughtful— like you think ahead."

You gave a dry laugh. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's not." He said. "Just means I won't have to worry about you doing something stupid."

Your eyes narrowed slightly. "What are you trying to say?"

He hesitated, then said it gently: "I remember that conversation we had last year. About how you were still, you know... saving yourself."

Your cheeks flushed instantly. "Wow, really bringing that up right now?"

"I'm not judging." He said quickly. "I actually think it's cool. You're not like the rest of them, that's why I care if you're ok."

You looked out the window, the beat of the music fading under the weight of his words. "Thanks, I guess."

Jaemin parked across the street, cutting the engine. "I know I'm an asshole sometimes, but I wouldn't bring you into this if I didn't trust you."

You exhaled slowly, then met his eyes. "Ok, let's do this."

"Hell yeah." He grinned, hopping out and circling around to open your door once more.

You stepped into the house, instantly hit by the loud bass of the music and the scent of weed, alcohol, and too much cologne. Bodies swayed under strobe lights, some grinding against each other, others already too far gone to care how they looked. Jaemin kept a casual, but protective hand on your lower back as he guided you through the crowd, eyes scanning the room like he was on a mission.

"That's him." He muttered, leaning down so only you could hear. He nodded subtly toward the kitchen.

Your gaze followed and landed on a guy behind the counter, restocking a row of liquor bottles.

You paused, he was... hotter than expected.

Black hair, tan skin, a body that made a plain black tee and jeans look like he was born for it. His movements were effortless, confident. His smile, charming. There was something in the way he looked people in the eye when talking, like they were the only person in the room. Your lips parted slightly as you took him in, eyes dragging over the way his shirt clung to his waist, the veins on his forearm flexing as he adjusted a bottle.

"Oh no." Jaemin teased, pulling you out of your trance. "Are we losing you already?"

"No." You said too quickly, blinking yourself back into reality. "No, just observing."

"Mmhmm." Jaemin smirked. "Well, he's your target babe. You've got all night."

"Lucky me." You muttered half sarcastically, but then he grabbed your arm gently.

"You sure?"

You turned toward him. "Yeah, are you?"

He nodded, though a flicker of something uncertain passed over his face. "Just, wait." He reached into his pocket and held something out, a condom.

"Jaemin—"

"Just in case." He said, tone serious now. "Even if he insists, don't let him talk you into going raw, I mean it."

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. "I'm not gonna do anything, relax."

"I know you won't, Y/n." He said, softer now. "But he'll try and sometimes the heat of the moment sneaks up on you. So just... have it, please."

You took it with a small nod and shoved it into your back pocket.

"Good luck with your girl." You said.

"Good luck with your guy. If you need me, call me."

And with that, you were on your own.

You straightened your shoulders, pulled your confidence up, and walked toward the kitchen— eyes locked on him the whole time. He didn't notice you at first, too busy rearranging cups and pouring mixers, but when he turned, his gaze landed on you like a spark.

"You look a little bored over here all alone." You said, voice smooth.

He looked you over slowly, thoroughly. "I am, are you gonna do something about that?"

"Maybe." You smiled, tilting your head. "But are you really worth my time?"

He grinned, a cocky thing that only made him more irresistible. "Maybe."

You watched as he accidentally slammed a bottle of tequila a little too hard on the counter, too distracted by your presence.

"I don't know..." You said, stepping closer. "You can't even handle a bottle. What makes you think you can handle me?"

He leaned a little closer, voice dropping. "I can— when I'm drinking."

"That doesn't sound very fun." You teased, watching the way his eyes flickered down to your lips.

"It is fun." He said. "Especially with a pretty girl like you."

Your hand slid over his on the counter, fingers brushing against his skin as you lifted the bottle from under his touch. "Then why aren't we drinking?"

He paused for a second, watching you intently. "Why aren't we?"

"You're still hogging the bottle." You murmured.

For a moment, you were locked in a wordless gaze, one of those silences that say more than anything spoken. You held it, tested him with your eyes.

"Are you just gonna stare." You finally said. "Or are you gonna pour me a shot?"

He smiled and grabbed two glasses, pouring quickly.

"What are we cheering to?" He asked.

You smirked. "To wherever this night takes us."

He clinked his glass to yours. "Dangerous words."

You both downed the shots, the tequila burning its way down your throat. You didn't even shudder.

"Wow." He said, licking his lips. "You took that like a champ."

"I can take a lot." You replied, wiping the corner of your mouth and not looking away once.

"That so? He said, exhaling slowly, pausing for a second. "Then take another with me."

"Don't you wanna wait?" You asked, your voice hinting a bit of concern. 

"I thought you said you could take it." He challenged.

"Are you calling me a liar?" You raised a brow.

"Yeah." He shrugged. "I guess I am."

You grabbed your glass, poured another, and tossed it back without blinking, and he followed right after. That turned into a third, then a fourth.

By now, your skin was buzzing, cheeks flushed with heat. The line between performance and reality blurred fast.

You talked about nothing— music, parties, stupid shit, other people you both barely knew, but everything had a spark to it. The way his gaze lingered when you laughed, the way his hand brushed your waist when reaching for more cups, the subtle way your knees touched.

"You dance?" He asked, stepping just slightly closer.

"Depends who's asking."

He gave that dangerous smile again. "You know who's asking."

You glanced at your phone, and still no text from Jaemin. Thirty minutes of flirtation— of temptation. You looked back up at Haechan, something electric passing between you.

You smirked. "Let's dance then."

The music pulsed around you as he led you out of the kitchen and into the crowd. The beat was dark, seductive, and you let yourself move to it, swaying your hips, letting the rhythm take you. His hands found your waist. You didn't stop him. His body pressed behind yours, chest to back, his lips brushing close to your ear every time he said something teasing.

His hand slid lower and you turned to face him, now chest to chest, bodies moving in sync.

He leaned in close, mouth brushing your ear. "You wanna go upstairs?"

You paused, swallowing hard. "Mmm... I don't know..."

He pulled back just enough to see your eyes. "Why not?"

"I don't want you to think I'm some kind of whore or something." You admitted, voice quieter now.

He blinked, then tilted his head, gaze softening just slightly. "Then let's not go upstairs."

You blinked at him, not responding.

He leaned closer again, voice husky. "Come here."

Before you could respond, he took your hand and led you down a dim hallway off the side of the living room, the noise of the party muffled behind you. It was quiet here, secluded . You were suddenly aware of how your pulse picked up.

He pushed you against the wall, hands bracing both sides of your head.

"This okay?" He asked.

You nodded slowly, heart racing and then his lips were on yours.

It was hot, insistent. His mouth moved like he already knew how you liked to be kissed— like you were meant to be tasted slowly, like his hands couldn't decide whether to cup your cheek or grip your hip tighter.

He pressed closer, lips trailing down your neck, his hand tugging lightly at the hem of your shirt. You gasped, your body reacting faster than your brain could catch up.

And then your phone buzzed, twice.

You broke the kiss breathless, and fished it from your back pocket. Jaemin.

"Clear. Let's go."

You looked up at Haechan, his lips kiss bitten.

"Aw, I gotta go." You said softly, smiling while biting your lip.

He blinked, still catching his breath. "Seriously?"

You said nothing, just shrugged.

He smirked, eyes glinting. "You leaving now makes me want you more."

You backed away slowly, keeping eye contact as you fixed your shirt. "Good."

You turned, leaving him in the hallway, the taste of tequila still tingling on your lips. 

You met Jaemin at the front door just as he was coming down the porch steps, his hair slightly tousled, lips flushed, and a dazed kind of grin stretching across his face. His shirt was wrinkled, and he looked like he'd just barely remembered how to walk straight.

You raised an eyebrow, smoothing your own hair out with your fingers. "What took you so long?"

He laughed, wiping his mouth like he was still catching his breath. "Got caught up in the moment."

You rolled your eyes as you both started walking down the sidewalk, leaving the pulse of the party behind you.

"I've never seen you this messed up in person." He said, glancing at you. 

You just shrugged, before turning to him. "How was your night?"

"Fucking amazing." He said, letting out a blissed sigh. "She was... yeah, worth it."

You smirked. "I'm happy for you. Sounds like you had fun." 

He turned to look at you, a little more alert now. "What about you? How'd it go?"

You shrugged with a soft smile, brushing your fingers against your lips almost unconsciously. "It was... fun. He's fun and hot— too hot, honestly."

Jaemin groaned dramatically, dragging his hand down his face. "Oh god, please don't tell me you slept with him."

You gave him a shove. "No, chill. He tried like you said he would, but I didn't. We just made out."

Jaemin gasped. "Y/n, you definitely have like, mono now."

You laughed, shoving him again. "He's not that bad."

"He's that bad." Jaemin said, shooting you a look. "How was he looking at you? It was probably like he was deciding how to ruin your life in the hottest way possible."

You gave a dreamy little sigh. "Yeah... I noticed."

Jaemin gasped. "Oh my god, you're into him."

"No I'm not." You tucked your hands into your jacket pocket, smiling to yourself. "He's just... magnetic. Like, he knows exactly what to say and exactly how to look at you when he says it."

"Uh huh, that's called manipulation." Jaemin said.

"I mean, maybe." You admitted. "But he was also weirdly... sweet? Like, he actually listened to me talk and he didn't push when I said no."

Jaemin raised a skeptical brow. "Ok, maybe a half point for consent, but let's not pretend this is some romance. You got lucky. I've seen girls fall for his type before, and they don't come out looking as cute as you do right now."

You gave a laugh. "I don't think I'm going back anyway. Not my scene."

"Good." Jaemin said with a little relief in his voice. "Because he's probably not gonna let you step foot at another party anyways because you rejected him. That boy's ego is fragile."

You tilted your head thoughtfully. "Well, if I never plan on going back, it doesn't matter what he thinks of me."

Jaemin grinned. "And that's why I love you."

You rolled your eyes but smiled back. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

He reached over and draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a sideways hug as you walked. "Seriously, thank you. You saved my ass tonight."

"I know I did." You grinned, letting yourself lean into him for a second. "You owe me, like, five coffees and a weekend of doing whatever I want."

"Done." He said immediately. "As long as 'whatever you want' doesn't include throwing yourself at Haechan again."

You laughed. "He threw himself at me, thank you very much."

"Right, right." He said, laughing. "Just remember who's actually got your back when you get those 'u up?' texts at 2 AM."

You gave a smile, already hearing the echo of Haechan's voice in your head, the taste of tequila and heat still lingering on your lips.

"I won't forget." 

══════════════════════════

It had been about a week since the party, and life had mostly returned to normal. School, studying, sleep, repeat. But he kept showing up uninvited in the quiet moments between thoughts. The memory of his voice, the glint in his eyes, the way his hands felt when they slid around your waist like he'd done it a hundred times before. You hated how he stuck in your head.

Still, it was whatever. You weren't going to do anything about it. You had your routine, and it didn't include making out with cocky boys in back hallways at house parties.

You'd just wrapped up another cram session for your Thursday Bio test—highlighted notes and color coded flashcards spread across your desk, when you heard it. A familiar, echoing voice in the hallway.

"Y/n!"

You didn't even look up. "You never knock."

Jaemin burst into your room like he owned the place, arms wide, his signature grin already plastered on his face. "My beautiful Y/n, I have arrived."

You leaned back in your desk chair, crossing your arms. "I can see that."

He walked over to hug you, and you let him, even though you were still recovering from the mental strain of studying.

"You know." You mumbled as he pulled back. "One day you're going to bust in here and catch me changing or worse, touching myself."

"Even more reason to keep doing it." He smiled.

You rolled your eyes. "You're actually such a creep."

"Yeah, yeah." He laughed it off, but then paused. His smile lingered familiarly, but you saw the hesitation flicker in his eyes.

You squinted. "What do you want, Jaemin?"

He gasped dramatically. "Y/n! I'm hurt, you think I only come here when I need something?"

You gave him a look, one he couldn't argue with.

"Ok, fine." He said. "But in my defense, we help each other equally."

"You mean I help you and you buy me coffee once a month?"

"Exactly." He grinned.

You sighed. "What is it this time?"

Jaemin scratched the back of his neck. "So, remember how you said you wouldn't go back to the party again?"

You blinked slowly. "Yeah..."

"Well, technically I'm not asking you to go for you. I'm asking on behalf of... well, her. His sister, she invited me again, practically begged— and I think we both know how that's gonna go."

He glanced at you cautiously.

"And you want me to keep Haechan busy again." You finished for him, leaning back in your chair.

"Look, I wouldn't need you to, but it'd be... really helpful." He said carefully. "I just need him not in the way, just for a little while."

Your brain flickered back to Haechan. His smirk, the way he made you feel both seen and exposed. The way he leaned in like he already knew what you'd do next. You told yourself you were over it, just a one time heat of the moment thing. But even now, something twisted in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again.

"Listen, I know you said you're not—"

"I'm down." You said, the words escaping before your brain caught up.

Jaemin blinked. "Wait, seriously?"

You cleared your throat. "Yeah, sure. You need me, right?"

His eyes narrowed. "Wow you really like this guy."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm just looking out for a friend."

Jaemin crossed his arms, fake pouting. "I don't know, I'm reconsidering this whole plan now. First he gets the girl I liked, now it's my best friend? I might need to keep you on lockdown."

You smirked. "Maybe that was my plan all along, you should just stay in."

"Nope." He said, pointing at you. "We're going, but this is the last time, I swear. And for real, don't do anything with him. Now I'm actually worried."

You held up your hands in surrender. "It's my job to distract, that's what I'm gonna do."

"I don't know if I trust you with that anymore." He shook his head, even though he smiled.

"You should." You said quietly.

He paused. "I'm teasing." He said after a minute. "I do. I guess."

You just smiled, the kind that said you already made your decision.

The house was louder this time. Packed tighter, music thumping harder, the kind of base that made your bones vibrate. You stood with Jaemin for a moment, eyes scanning the crowd.

You told yourself this was just a favor, a distraction like last time.

But as soon as you saw him— Haechan, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, sipping something from a red cup with that lazy grin on his face, all of that logic began to melt.

He looked even better than you remembered. Black hoodie, chain peeking from under the collar, dark hair slightly damp.

He spotted you instantly, his smirk curling as he straightened up.

You glanced over at Jaemin. "You owe me."

"I owe you my life." He said, already making a beeline toward the stairs. And just like that, you were alone, again... with him.

Haechan pushed off the counter and met you halfway.

"Well, well." He said, voice low. "Look who came back for seconds."

You tilted your head. "Maybe I'm just here for the drinks."

His eyes scanned you, slow and deliberate. "You look like trouble tonight."

You stepped in, closing the gap just enough to be suggestive. "You think I wasn't trouble last time?"

He laughed, licking his lips. "No, last time you were temptation. Tonight? I don't think I'll be able to behave."

You let yourself smile just a little.

"Try to." You said, smirking as you hit Haechan's shoulder, weaving through the crowd and heading straight to the kitchen. The music thumped through the walls, as you grabbed a bottle of tequila from off the counter.

"You're already hurting my feelings." Haechan said from behind you, his voice dipping just enough to graze your nerves in that playful, confident way.

"How's that?" You asked turning, only for him to close the gap between you. His arms casually caging you against the counter, hands resting just close enough to your hips.

"Drinking without me." He said, smoothly taking the bottle from your hand like it belonged to him.

You tilted your head. "I'm sorry, who are you again?"

"You should know. It's my party, after all." He replied, that teasing grin never leaving his face as he leaned in just enough to test the space between you.

"You're cocky." You gave him a playful shove, but didn't move far.

"I'm Haechan. Who are you? I never got your name last time."

You raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Kissing a girl and not even knowing her name? I've heard about you, you know... what you do to girls, the type of person you are."

That made him pause for a second, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he held your gaze. "But you're still here, aren't you?"

You didn't reply, just smiled slowly, head tilting amused at his boldness.

"So." He leaned in again. "Are you gonna leave me alone, or tell me your name?"

"Y/n."

"Pretty." He said, the smile that followed unusually soft, like he actually meant it.

You eyed the bottle still in his hand. "Are you just gonna stand there and smile at me, or pour the damn shots?"

"I thought you'd never ask." He reached past you, his arm brushing yours as he grabbed two shot glasses. His cologne hit you, mixing with the alcohol and the buzz in your chest.

The tequila burned on the way down, but it made your limbs feel warm, relaxed.

"Is tequila your favorite?" He asked, eyes not leaving you.

You shook your head, setting the glass down. "Vodka mixed drinks. I don't like taking things straight."

He grinned at that, grabbing a red solo cup. He poured vodka, rum, and a splash of something creamy and white—the scent immediately familiar.

"Pina colada mixer?" You asked, brow raised.

"You seem like the type. Plus, you told me last time." He said with a smile.

"You remembered?"

"Of course. You're kinda hard to forget." He said, clinking his cup to yours before sipping.

You looked down for a second, smile slipping in without warning. "I really shouldn't be talking to you."

"Says who?"

"Myself, my conscience."

He shrugged. "You're a big girl, smart too. You know what you're doing. Just let go a little, everything doesn't have to be heavy all the time."

You gave him a playful side eye. "No?"

"Nope. If it was, it wouldn't be fun."

Before you could reply, someone passed by and handed him what looked like a vape.

"Fuck yes." Haechan muttered, taking a long drag and exhaling slowly, the smoke curling out the side of his mouth.

He held it out. "Want a hit?"

"Nah, I don't vape."

He blinked a little surprised, then laughed. "Baby, this is a cart, not a vape."

"Oh." You giggled. "That makes sense. Smelled... different."

"So do you want it?" He asked again.

"I don't know, I don't really do drugs."

"It's just weed. It's chill— makes everything feel good." He said, his tone smooth, not pushy.

You hesitated, biting your lip.

"I'm not forcing you, but trust me— it's fine."

"...Okay, fine." You took the cart, cautiously bringing it to your lips and inhaling. It hit your lungs faster than you expected, making you cough, but after a few seconds you got used to it, taking a few more hits. Warmth spread through you, you felt light and weightless.

"Haechan." You murmured, blinking slowly, finishing the drink in your hand. "Let's dance."

He didn't argue. You pulled him onto the dance floor where bodies swayed and moved like one blur of motion, but you were only aware of him. His hands on your hips, guiding your movements. His breath brushing the curve of your neck. His mouth near enough to graze your ear when he laughed at something you said.

And then you kissed him.

You didn't think— your lips were on his, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as he melted into it. The kind of kiss that made everything else disappear.

"How about we take this up to my room?" He whispered into your mouth, voice low.

"I told you I felt like—"

"You're not a whore." He cut in gently. "I want you. That doesn't make you anything except someone I want."

You hesitated for a second, the distant part of your brain catching up. "I don't know, my friend might come looking for me. He was supposed to—"

"He's not here right now." Haechan's voice was low and coaxing. "You're here, with me. You can make your own decisions."

You didn't answer,  just grabbed his hand and followed him upstairs.

You were halfway down the hallway, your heart fluttering, when you passed a room and the unmistakable sound of soft moaning filtered out from behind the closed door.

Haechan paused, head turning. "What the fuck?" He muttered, steps slowing.

Shit... Jaemin.

Before he could say anything more, you spun him to face you, grabbing his face urgently, your hands warm against his cheeks. His brows lifted in surprise.

"Focus on me." You whispered.

And then you kissed him again, deeper and slower this time. Your hands slid into his hair, pulling him closer as your bodies melted together. His hands found your waist again, but they didn't stop there, traveling up your sides, fingers over your bare skin as his mouth moved against yours with increasing hunger.

He backed you gently into the nearest wall, lips never leaving yours as the kiss deepened. Your back arched into his touch, your hands tugging at the collar of his shirt, desperate to feel more.

His mouth dragged from your lips down your jaw, kissing, teasing, then down your neck where he paused, sucking gently at the sensitive spot just below your ear.

"Room's this way." He murmured between kisses, and you followed him, half stumbling into his room, laughing softly as he shut the door behind you.

The moment it clicked shut, he was back on you, lips on your neck, hands guiding you toward the bed.

He pushed you down onto the bed, his body pressing against yours as he climbed on top. One hand slid roughly up your thigh, bunching your dress higher, never breaking contact with your neck as his mouth stayed hot against your skin.

His fingers played with the edge of your underwear for a moment, teasing, before pulling them down to your knees.

He paused then, lifting his head. His eyes met yours, and for just a second something shifted, uncertainty flickering across his face. He licked his lips like he was thinking, maybe even questioning, but before you could say anything, he lowered himself again, kissing a slow path down your body, lips soft against your thigh.

His breath was warm against your skin as he kissed the inside of your thigh, slow and steady, his hands holding your legs apart. Every movement felt like he wanted to make sure you felt everything— every kiss, every brush of his lips.

He glanced up at you once more, eyes darker now, the hesitation from before gone. Then he lowered his head again, his mouth finding the tender spot just above your knee, then higher. His fingers slid up your thighs, anchoring you in place as his mouth moved closer, teasing you.

You could feel your body tightening beneath him, breath catching in your throat as he finally reached your folds, his lips brushing against your clit, gentle at first.

Then he gave in completely, his mouth working you with focus, his hands gripping your hips like he never wanted to let go.

His tongue slid over you as he teased you with soft flicks and gentle pressure, each movement sending a wave of heat through your body. Your hips shifted under his touch, instinctively searching for more, but he held you steady, his grip firm on your thighs.

He looked up at you again, eyes heavy, mouth glistening. Then he dove back in, hungrier this time, his tongue moving with purpose now, circling, pressing. The sounds he made vibrated against you, adding to the overwhelming sensation building fast inside you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, needing something to hold onto as he drove you higher. He responded to every twitch, every gasp, adjusting his pace, his pressure, as if he could read exactly what your body craved.

Then he slid one finger inside you slowly, deeply, curling just right. The rhythm of his hand and mouth worked in perfect sync, pulling you closer to the edge with each passing second.

That's when your phone buzzed, the vibration low, but sharp against the haze in your mind. Your eyes blinked open, lashes heavy as you glanced down. A message lit up the screen.

Jaemin [1:35 AM]:

"I'm ready. Meet me outside."

"Ignore it." Haechan murmured against your thigh, voice deep and muffled. His lips brushed warm against your skin, but your eyes stayed on the message.

"Mmm... I have to go." You said, sitting up slowly, the daze of alcohol and drug weighing your limbs.

"What?" He asked, looking up at you with hooded eyes, lips still wet.

You smiled, pushing hair from your face as you stood fully. "Leaving you on a cliffhanger again."

"You're evil." He smirked lazily.

"Mm, bite me." You teased with a wink, turning for the door.

"Wait." He cut through.

You paused, glancing back over your shoulder with a raised brow.

"Can I at least get your number or something?"

You shook your head, a quiet laugh slipping past your lips. "Where's the fun in that?"

And then you were gone, the door clicking shut behind you. Haechan just smiled to himself, letting out a breath as he ran a hand through his hair. "Unbelievable."

Outside, the cool air hit your flushed cheeks as you stumbled into the night, spotting Jaemin.

"There she is." He grinned. "Somebody's fucked."

"You are too, shut up." You giggled, smacking his chest lightly.

"Nah, just you. I'm only a little bit drunk." He gave you that smug, crooked smile that always made your stomach flip.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." You muttered with a grin, stumbling into him slightly.

His arm came around your shoulders without thinking steadying you, but then he stopped, glancing at your face more closely, his smile fading.

"Y/n." He said slowly. "Are you... high?"

You paused, lips parting like you hadn't even thought to lie. "Maybe." You giggled.

Jaemin stared at you, concern overtaking every line of his face. "You never do that shit... you barely drink anymore— what the hell happened?"

"Relax, Jaem. It was just weed, a few hits. I'm fine."

"You could've had a bad trip." He said, eyes narrowing. "Or what if it was laced? You don't know who the fuck gave you that. You don't know what could've happened—"

"Can you chill?" You said, laughing. "You sound like my parent."

"That's what I gotta be when you do stupid shit like this." His voice dropped, rough with something deeper. "I just... I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

You smiled. "I'm fine, I swear."

"Alright. I'm staying at your place tonight."

"Damn, thanks for asking."

He gave you a look and just giggled again.

When you got home, your shoes hit the floor one by one as you peeled off your jacket, then the thin dress that clung to your skin. You collapsed face first into your bed in only your bra and underwear, the sheets cool against your flushed skin.

Jaemin followed behind. He dropped into your desk chair with a heavy exhale, pulling his hoodie off and tossing it aside. He leaned back, phone in hand, scrolling casually.

"You look good in this lighting." You said, voice smooth and thick as you propped yourself up on your elbows.

He looked up at you over his screen, lips quirking. "You're really saying that right now?"

"Mmhmm." You let your eyes drag down his figure slowly. "You've always been pretty Jaemin."

He laughed under his breath, glancing back at his phone, but not before you caught the slight flush in his cheeks.

You sat up more, letting your legs dangle over the side of the bed, posture relaxed, but eyes sharp with mischief.

"Come here." You said.

He raised an eyebrow. "To the bed?"

"Yeah, just wanna be close."

He hesitated for half a moment before standing. "You're so high." He muttered with a smirk, making his way over. He sat beside you, hands propped behind him on the mattress.

You leaned into him, fingers brushing up his arm softly. "You smell good." You murmured, eyes locked on his lips.

"Do I?" He asked, amusement threading through his voice.

"You always do." Your fingers trailed over his chest now, dragging down to his stomach. His muscles tightened slightly beneath your touch, but he didn't stop you. "And your skin's soft..."

Jaemin watched you, breath slower now. "You're really flirting with me right now?"

"I'm not flirting." You said, tone quiet. "I'm appreciating."

Your lips ghosted along his jaw, then lower to the curve of his neck. He tilted his head slightly, allowing the contact. You kissed him there— slowly, sensual, your lips lingering just a second too long.

He swallowed hard.

"I know you like it." You whispered.

His hand slid instinctively to your thigh, gripping gently as your lips traced down the side of his throat. He leaned into it, breathing deep through his nose.

But then—

"Wait." He said suddenly, pulling back. "I can't."

You blinked, stunned by the shift. "Why not?" You asked, voice low as you stared up at him.

"You're my best friend." He said, the words stuttering off his tongue.

"Oh, but when you ask to fuck me it's a different story?"

"It is." He said.

"Mmm, really?" You smirked, sliding your hand up his torso again, fingers trailing.

"Yes." He said firmly. "You're not sober and you don't actually want me right now, you're just under the influence... as fuck."

"I always want you." You said, eyes locked on his.

He sighed, the tension in his body slowly fading into something softer. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you against him gently, tucking you under his chin.

"Please go to sleep, Y/n. I'm right here, just rest."

And... you listened. Eyes fluttering closed, breath slowing as the world dimmed into his warmth.

══════════════════════════

Your eyes fluttered open, vision blurry and head pounding. The sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains. You slowly sat up, blinking against the ache throbbing in your skull.

Jaemin was sprawled next to you on top of the blankets, one leg stretched over the edge of the bed, scrolling casually through his phone. 

He glanced over. "Relax, it's just me." He said, offering a small smile.

You exhaled deeply, rubbing your temples with your fingers. A sharp pain spiked behind your eyes, a groan escaping your lips as you reached for your head.

"Here." Jaemin said, reaching down for a plastic bag on the floor. "I got you some water, some food, and Advil— for your headache." He set it on the bed beside you. 

"How'd you know I have a headache?" You asked, unscrewing the cap of the water and popping the pills into your mouth.

"Jesus, Y/n." He scoffed, sitting up straighter. "You were shit faced last night, obviously you're gonna have a hangover."

"Right." You said with a smile. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"Yeah, of course." He returned the smile briefly, his attention sliding back to his phone.

Silence settled between you, but it wasn't entirely comfortable. Your brain was still catching up to reality, glimpses of last night flickering through your mind in half lit flashes. Laughter, music, moaning in the hallway. Haechan, and Jaemin... your heart beat a little harder at that last part.

"Hey..." You started cautiously. "Did we—" You hesitated. "We didn't do anything, did we?"

He chuckled, but didn't answer right away. The silence stretched a second too long, just enough to make your stomach flip.

"You tried." He said finally, his voice was calm, almost amused, but the words made your chest tighten. "But I stopped it, and you went to sleep— so, all clear." He gave you a lazy smile.

"Phew." You exhaled, falling back onto your pillow in relief.

"Damn." He teased, raising a brow. "Am I that bad?"

"No, no." You said quickly, laughing. "I just don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"All good over here, you don't." He replied, eyes flickering back to his phone.

You shook your head, grinning. "Damn, I'm such a horny freak."

"I see how you get when you're drunk... and high." He added, glancing over at you, disappointment flickering in his gaze.

"Stop, Jaemin." You groaned, pushing his shoulder playfully.

"I'm still disappointed about that." He said, his voice a little firmer. "You need to be more careful. That's the last time you're going there ever again."

"You can't tell me what to do." You teased, lips quirking into a smile.

"Ahh, I guess I can't." He said dramatically, reaching over and grabbing the bag of food.

"Stop, give it." You laughed, stretching across him to snatch it back. Your fingers brushed against his hand, and your eyes caught his for a long, silent moment.

Your voice softened. "You know... I'm seriously grateful that you take care of me when I need it."

He blinked, lips twitching into a small smile. "Yeah, yeah. Now can you eat?"

You nodded, finally opening the container and taking a bite of food. "I almost accidentally got you caught, but I saved it." You said between bites, your voice cheeky.

"How, come?" He asked, only half listening as he scrolled.

"We came upstairs and we heard moaning." You said with a grin. "I'm guessing your party."

"You came upstairs to do what?" He looked up sharply now, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

You didn't respond, just smiled to yourself as you continued chewing.

"Did you fuck him?" He asked suddenly, sitting up straighter, eyes locked on yours.

"No, no." You answered quickly. "He just gave me head." Your voice was quieter now, but the confession hung in the air.

"He gave you head?" Jaemin blinked, dumbfounded. "YOU?" He repeated. "And he didn't get anything else from you? No sex, no head, not even a handjob?"

You shook your head. "Nope."

"Dude, he never does that... ever." He looked like he was short circuiting. "What's up with these guys just giving you head man? I'm impressed."

"First off, it only happened once before, so don't do that, and you know we don't talk about him, ok?" You said in a on edge voice.

"Ok, ok." He held up his hands in surrender.

"I guess I just gave the magic touch." You said with a smug smile.

"Damn, me next!" He cheered jokingly, grinning.

"Shit, maybe." You said with a smirk. "Haechan didn't even make me finish— well, because we were interrupted by someone." You shot him a playful look.

"Aw shucks." He said, chuckling. "Jaemin here to crash the party always."

"Partially." You replied. "I think he's not done with me though. Before I left, he asked for my number."

"He asked for your number— like, first? While you were leaving him?" Jaemin exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Yep." You said.

"Did you give it to him?" He asked, leaning in like a gossipy teen.

"Nah. I don't think that's someone I should have access to at all times— for my own safety you know." You said, giggling. 

"You're so smart, that's why I love you so, so much." He said with a bright smile... before it faltered slightly.

"I'm not smart for not giving him my number. I'm just not dumb." You said, brushing off the moment.

He recovered with a quick grin. "Maybe you aren't as bright as I thought, because that is the same thing."

"Shut up." You laughed, nudging his shoulder. 

"Damn, I actually can't believe he did all this for you." Jaemin said, eyes wide again. "Nothing wrong with you of course, but he just— never acts that way with anyone. You might be his soulmate."

"Ew, shut up. Yes he's hot, but I could never imagine dating someone like him." You said, scrunching your nose.

"Good, because I doubt you're welcomed at any more parties after the double rejection you gave him." He said with a laugh.

"Didn't you say that the last time?" 

"Yeah, but I mean it this time. You rejected him like four times."

"Okay, enough Haechan talk." You set the now empty container aside and leaned back. "I appreciate everything, but you should get going to freshen up. Plus, I have class in like an hour."

"You're still going?" He asked, brows raising.

"Absolutely, I'd never miss class."

"Okay, well..." He rubbed the back of his neck, hesitant. "Do you think we can meet up for dinner later?"

You paused, your tone shifting gently. "I think I need to be alone right now. I also have a project due on Tuesday that I'm cramming for because I got a little lazy. Let's meet... maybe Wednesday?"

He nodded. "Sounds good." With one last smile he stood up, grabbing his hoodie off the chair and slipping it on.

══════════════════════════

It was finally Wednesday, after days of cramming, sleepless nights, you had just submitted your project and shut your laptop with a dramatic sigh of relief. You sprawled out on your bed for a moment, eyes fluttering closed, the weight of the past few days slowly lifting off your shoulders.

The front door creaked open and slammed shut again, followed by the familiar shuffle of sneakers on hardwood.

"Yo." He called out, stepping into your room with a plastic takeout bag in hand.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, noticing something was off immediately. His voice lacked its usual playful energy. No cheeky grin, no snarky comment about your workaholic tendencies, just... a weird kind of stillness in his tone.

"What's up?" You asked, brows furrowing slightly at his hesitance.

He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down for a second before meeting your gaze again. "I need you to come to the party with me again."

You blinked, half in disbelief. "Again?" You let out a soft giggle, sitting up fully. "Weren't you the one who banned me from that place like... twice?"

"Yeah, I know." He said with a sigh, plopping down beside you on the bed and setting the takeout between you. "But you're the only one who can distract Haechan well it appears, and fuck, that girl is so—"

He stopped himself mid sentence, biting his tongue. You stared at him, your smile fading slightly. He was always joking— even when things were serious, but right now he looked more anxious than amused.

"Right." You said slowly, nodding as you studied his face. You didn't press it— whatever that girl meant, you could guess, and it wasn't your place to dig.

"So... will you?" He asked again, voice low.

You hesitated for a second before shrugging. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."

His shoulders relaxed, just a little, and the smallest hint of a smile broke through. "You're a lifesaver."

You reached into the takeout bag, pulling out your container with a soft smirk. "You owe me something good for this."

"Oh, I got you extra fries." He said quickly, handing the container toward you like it was a peace offering.

You rolled your eyes. "Bribery works I guess."

══════════════════════════

The party was already fill by the time you and Jaemin arrived per usual. As soon as you stepped inside, Jaemin melted into the crowd like a ghost.

You didn't even bother calling after him. You just sighed, brushing past a couple making out near the stairs as you made your way to the kitchen. You needed a drink.

The fridge was wide open, someone rummaging through it carelessly. You reached past them for a can of something and cracked it open, sipping without thinking.

"Is this gonna be a pattern?" A familiar voice teased from behind you.

You turned, already knowing who it was, of course.

There he stood, eyes on you like you were the only person in the room. His head tilted just slightly, like he was already amused.

You crossed your arms and let out a short sigh. "Is what a pattern?"

"You drinking without me." He said smoothly.

You shook your head, watching as he took a sip from his own cup. "You're drinking without me too, so I'm not sure that makes sense."

"Just casually." He grinned, his voice light. "Take a shot with me."

You eyed him for a second, then gave a small nod. He reached over to the counter, pouring two uneven shots, one for each of you.

You raised yours with a quiet "cheers" before knocking it back. The alcohol settled in your stomach, hot and quick.

"You know I'm not doing anything with you, right?" You said once the warmth hit your chest.

He raised a brow, grin widening. "Did I ask?"

You huffed a soft laugh, unable to hide the way your lips curved despite your better judgment and his smirk deepened like he won something.

"It's loud in here, come outside with me." He said, already reaching for the bottle again, refilling both your cups without waiting for an answer.

You hesitated, something in you buzzing—nerves or excitement, you weren't sure, but you nodded anyway.

Outside, the backyard was a complete contrast to the chaos inside. Quieter, almost peaceful. Blue and purple led lights in the pool, casting a neon glow in the water. The heat of the night clung to your skin, but the moment you dipped your feet into the cool pool, relief washed over you.

He sat beside you, pulling a pre rolled blunt from his pocket and lit it with a flick of a lighter. For a second, the flame highlighted his face, features softened by the glow.

"How are you?" He asked, voice quieter now. "How was your week?"

You turned to him, blinking. "You actually care? Wow, that's new."

"You're so negative." He said, exhaling smoke before offering it to you.

You stared at it for a moment, fingers twitching slightly. Then you took it, bringing it to your lips and inhaling slow. You held it for a second before letting it go with a sigh.

"I'm cautious." You murmured, passing it back.

"Mmm." He hummed, nodding, puffing again. 

"Why do you never disagree? Defend yourself when people say shit about you?" You questioned, turning to him. 

"Because it's true. I'm not afraid to admit it." He said, exhaling slowly. "But sometimes people talk and over exaggerate, make it seem like I'm just heartless. If they're scared and stay away, that's their problem. But if they know what they're getting into— or think they do, then why should I waste my energy proving them wrong? In my eyes, they're just as fucked up as me."

You were quiet for a moment, then nodded slightly in agreement. He passed the blunt again, and you took two more puffs in silence. It wasn't awkward, just still.

"So." You eventually said, eyes drifting to the lit up pool. "How do you have such a big house as a college student?"

"My parents." He replied, tone casual. "They pay for everything while they go prance around in different countries, leaving me and my siblings behind."

"Siblings?" You echoed, surprised. You knew he had a sister, but hadn't heard anything about more.

"Yep. A younger sister and brother." He said, taking another hit. "My sister's a junior, doesn't live with me, but I keep a guest room here for when she wants a break from her roommates."

"And your brother?"

"He's a sophomore, goes to college a few hours from here— said he wanted a fresh start. I still check in with him a few times a week. He's had his ups and downs, but he's a good kid."

"I get that." You said. "I went somewhere else freshman year too. Only stayed for a year before transferring back here this year."

"So you are a sophomore." He said, nodding. "I figured."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He only shrugged, sipping his drink.

"What's your story?" He asked, glancing over. "Why'd you want a fresh start?"

"My mom died about two years ago." You said, the words escaping before you could filter them.

His face shifted. "Oh shit, I'm sorry."

"It's good." You said quickly, brushing it off. "It's actually kind of stupid, out of all the drugs, she died from weed. It was laced."

"Damn." He muttered. "Is that why you were so hesitant earlier?"

You nodded. "Yeah. People don't realize how terrifying it is, it's real."

"Fuck, now I feel like an asshole." He said, running a hand through his hair, a tired chuckle leaving his mouth as he put the blunt out.

"Don't." You told him. "You gotta grow up and not be scared sometimes. Plus, I can make my own decisions."

There was a pause before you added with a lazy smile, "I don't even know why I'm talking to you."

"What— because I'm 'evil'?" He teased, one brow rising.

You laughed. "No. Because you're a stranger."

He leaned back dramatically. "Wow, you kissed a stranger. What did you say? Whore."

"Oh, shut up." You rolled your eyes. "I guess you're not too much of a stranger."

"Exactly." He grinned. "But sometimes you just need someone to be there for you, stranger or not."

His eyes lingered on you now, more serious than before. "But... we don't have to stay strangers— I don't think we should."

You raised a brow.

"Just give me your number." He said, voice softer.

You squinted at him, half amused. "Is that what this was all about?"

"No." He said quickly, then paused. "I just... you're different and I'm curious about you."

"Curiosity." You said, rolling your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips.

"There's nothing wrong with that, is there?" He leaned a little closer. "We should just mess around, find out more about each other. You must be curious too?"

You stared at him for a second, lips pressing into a tight line. "I'm not."

"Ouch." He laughed, not entirely believing you, but to his credit, he didn't push.

You paused, then let out a sigh. "Fine, I'll give you my number."

His grin widened as he pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to you.

"Thank you." He said genuinely.

"Maybe now we don't have to only talk to each other on Thursdays." You said, punching in your digits and handing it back.

"Mmm." He smiled, his gaze lingering on you.

As if on cue, your phone lit up with a text.

Jaemin [12:58 AM]:

"Let's go."

You looked up, Haechan already watching you.

"Well, I've got to go." You said, standing and brushing off your skirt.

"Is there a night where you're not gonna leave me?" He asked, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he looked up at you.

"Mm... don't hold your breath." You smirked, waving before slipping back inside.

Jaemin was waiting by the door, hands in his pockets, a smile on his face.

"Well, well." He said as you approached. "What did you do tonight?"

"My job." You said with a giggle, eyes slightly hooded from the buzz in your system.

"Oh, you're high again?" His smile faded just a bit.

"Yeah, not a big deal." You said, casually hooking your arm around his like it was second nature.

"Right, and I can't even stay with you tonight."

"Why not?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Because you can't control yourself under the influence." He said bluntly.

"Wow, don't say that." You laughed. "I'm not even that fucked up, I could totally control myself."

"Right." He smirked. "But I probably can't."

"Yeah... maybe you shouldn't stay with me tonight then." You teased.

He let out a short laugh, shaking his head as the two of you disappeared into the night.

══════════════════════════

Saturday | 11:37 PM

You were curled up in bed, knees tucked beneath you, your laptop warming your thighs as the glow of the screen illuminated your face. The essay you've been chipping away at all day was only half done, and your focus was slipping fast. You already reread the same paragraph three times when your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Unknown Number [11:37 PM]:

"Come over. Chill for a bit."

Your brow furrowed as you set your laptop aside and picked up the phone, thumb hovering over the screen.

You [11:37 PM]:

"Who is this?"

You already had a guess, but you weren't about to make it easy.

A few seconds passed.

Unknown Number [11:38 PM]:

"You know who it is."

You let out a quiet scoff, one corner of your mouth curling into a smirk, of course it was him.

You [11:39 PM]:

"Mmm, no I don't. So I guess that's a no."

Another pause, longer this time.

Unknown Number [11:40 PM]:

"Come over. Please."

Your thumb hovered again. You should've just gone back to your work, should've tossed your phone aside and shut the whole thing down. 

You [11:41 PM]:

"I seriously can't, busy rn."

Unknown Number [11:41 PM]:

"Bummer."

You stared at the message, your bedroom suddenly too quiet. The flicker of curiosity and something else sat in your chest.

You [11:42 PM]:

"You can come over later though. We could watch a movie or something."

His response was fast.

Unknown Number [11:42 PM]:

"Later? It's already 11."

You [11:43 PM]:

"Ok, then don't."

Silence. Then...

Unknown Number [11:44 PM]:

Send the address.

You hesitated, biting your lip for a minute too long. Then you dropped a pin and hit send.

1:27 AM

You opened the door, blinking against the cooler air spilling into the hallway. Haechan stood there, hair tousled, a six pack of drinks in one hand and a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Didn't think you'd actually send it." He said, stepping inside without waiting.

"Didn't think you'd actually come." You replied, locking the door behind him.

"We're just sitting in the living room." You said, already making your way towards the couch.

"Perfect." He said, slipping off his jacket and tossing it over the armrest as he followed.

You pulled up something half decent on Netflix, something neither of you would end up watching, and settled in. He handed you a drink, and you clinked your cans together quietly.

He was the first to speak.

"How've you been? Since Thursday." He asked, voice soft, watching you from the side.

You took a slow sip, eyes on the screen. "Busy. Regretting life decisions."

He chuckled, amused. "Yeah, which ones?"

"Letting you text me."

A grin tugged at his mouth as he leaned back, one arm draping lazily along the back of the couch. "You're the one who invited me, sweetheart."

"You begged."

"I don't beg."

You gave him a look. "You literally said please."

"I'm just a convincer." He shot back smoothly.

"Manipulator." You corrected with a smile.

He laughed again, reaching into his pocket. "Mind if I hit this?"

You glanced at the sleek cart between his fingers, then at the hallway.

"Even though my roommates aren't here, they're still strict about smoking in shared spaces." You said. "No vape, no carts— none of it."

He blinked, pausing. "Damn. I can go if—"

"No." You interrupted, standing. "We can go to my room."

His eyebrows arched in interest as he rose to follow.

Your room was dim and cozy, washed in soft fairy lights. You pushed the door closed behind him and leaned against it for a moment before crossing to the bed.

"This is cute." He said, looking around. "You always have a vibe."

"Try not to ruin it." You said, climbing onto the bed and settling into the pillows. He leaned against your desk, then raised the cart again and took a slow pull, the scent hitting your nose.

"You want?" He asked.

You rose from the bed, stepping toward him and plucked it from his fingers without breaking eye contact.

His brows lifted. "Woah."

You rolled your eyes. "Don't be selfish now."

He smirked, but his voice dropped just slightly as he teased, "What if it's laced?"

"Not funny." You said.

He held his hands up, surrendering, though his grin said he enjoyed every second.

You took a slow puff and handed it back.

"That's all I'm doing." You murmured.

But that wasn't true.

Time slipped, the air thickened, you kept passing it back and forth, voices growing lower, laughter softening.

At some point, you looked up and noticed he was still standing.

"You've been standing there whole time." You said, eyes a little glassy, lashes fluttering as you sat up straighter.

"Yeah, I know. Why?" He asked, inching closer.

"Just curious why you don't want to be near me." You said with a teasing shrug.

He stepped in front of you now, close enough that you could see the shift in his expression. "I'm near." He murmured.

"Not close enough." Your voice was soft but firm as you reached out, trailing your hands up his arm and guiding it onto your shoulder.

His fingers stayed, curling gently over your skin. His gaze dropped to your lips, then flicked back up.

"Don't look at me like that." He said, eyes low. 

"Like what?" You asked, guiding his arm again until his hand cupped your jaw.

"Like you want me to ruin the night."

His hand lingered against your cheek, the warmth of his palm spreading through your skin. Your breath hitched, fingers curling softly around his wrist.

You tugged him closer, his face now just inches from yours as he leaned over you, one hand settling on your thigh. "Maybe I do."

He closed the distance between you instantly, his lips crashing against yours with desperately. The hand that had been gently cupping your cheek slid to the back of your neck, fingers curling as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

Your hands found the hem of his shirt, gripping it tightly as you tugged, urging him to shed the barrier between you. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull the shirt over his head, tossing it aside. His sweats hung low on his hips, revealing the sharp lines of his v-line.

He climbed fully onto the bed, hovering over you, claiming your lips in a heated, breathless kiss. His hands moved, tugging your shirt and pajama shorts off in one swift motion, never once breaking eye contact, the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch.

He leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss— wet and messy. As his mouth moved against yours, he nudged your legs apart with his own, his knee slipping between them, pressing softly against your heat.

His lips left yours only to travel down your neck, trailing gentle kisses that quickly turned rougher. He latched onto a sensitive spot just below your jaw, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. The sensation paired with the slow pressure of his knee drew soft moans from your lips. Your fingers found his hair, tangling in it as your hips shifted unconsciously in response.

"I don't have a condom." He murmured, his breath warm against your neck.

You were just about to leave it, but Jaemin's voice sounded in your head: "Don't let him fuck you raw." 

Without thinking, you reached over to your nightstand, fingers finding the familiar shape of a silver foil square that you got a few weeks back. You pressed it to his chest, your eyes meeting his.

He paused, a slow amused smile spreading across his lips. A soft chuckle escaped him. "Smart." He said under his breath.

He rose to his feet, pushing his sweats and boxers down in one fluid motion. Tearing the foil open with his teeth, discarding the wrapper carelessly onto the floor, then rolled the condom on with ease, his eyes never straying far from you.

He grabbed your legs with firm hands, dragging you to the edge of the bed, his gaze locked onto yours intensely. Without a word, he hooked his fingers into your underwear and yanked them down, leaving you bare beneath him.

He leaned in again, capturing your lips in another deep kiss. His mouth moved over yours, but as you pulled back your eyes shimmered.

"I haven't— this is my first time." You admitted, voice barely above a whisper, breathless and shaking.

For a moment everything stilled. His expression shifted, something flickering behind his eyes— part surprise, part fascination. 

"I'll try to be gentle." He said softly, his voice low and tight with restraint.

He stood, hands skimming down the length of your legs until they reached beneath your knees. He lifted them slowly, spreading you open softly.

He positioned himself between your legs, his body tense. He paused, eyes locked on yours for a moment, as if waiting for any sign of hesitation.

Then he pushed into you. The sting was sharp, and you gasped, your breath catching. He froze for a second, his forehead pressing lightly against yours.

"Breathe." He whispered, his voice rough. He gave you a moment, just enough to adjust before he asked, "Ok?"

You nodded, too breathless to say anything, but when you didn't pull away he pushed further, the pace picking up as he moved into you again, harder and deeper this time.

He gripped your legs tightly, forcing you open as he thrusted into you, his movements rougher now, more desperate. The initial sting quickly faded into a pulsing heat that had you gasping with every thrust, each push a little harder than the last.

"You feel so fucking good." He muttered, voice thick with desire. His hands tightened on your legs, and he slammed into you with more urgency, his pace picking up, rougher and less controlled. The air was thick with the sound of skin meeting skin, the room vibrating.

The tension in your body kept building, the pleasure mixing with the intensity of each thrust. His breath was uneven and shallow as he moved faster, harder, his grip tightening. There was no slowing down now.

"Fuck." He groaned, his movements becoming more erratic, less restrained. "So fucking perfect."

The care he showed earlier was gone. His pace didn't slow, only grew faster, more frantic. Each thrust hit deeper, more forceful, and you could feel every inch of him filling you completely. You clung to him, nails digging into his skin as he fucked into you without restraint.

The sounds of your bodies crashing together filled the air, a mix of moans, heavy breathing, and the wet, slick noise of each push. He didn't give you time to adjust, didn't pause to check in again. He just kept going, his grip tightening on your legs, forcing them open even wider as he moved harder.

The pleasure was building, overwhelming you, the pressure mounting with every thrust. Your body felt like it was on fire, heat pooling low in your stomach as his thrusts drove you closer to the edge.

"You like that, huh?" He groaned, his voice rough. His eyes flickered down to where you were joined, watching how he moved inside you. "You're so fucking tight."

You couldn't form words anymore, only moans escaping your lips as your hips instinctively moved against him, meeting each thrust, urging him deeper. Every motion felt like a jolt of electricity running through you, tightening your core, making everything spin.

His hand slid down from your legs, gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, driving into you with more force. The friction built, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

"God, I'm gonna make you cum." He grunted, his own pace stammering just slightly as his own release neared. "Hold on."

His hips snapped into yours recklessly, his movements growing more urgent. His grip on your waist tightened as he pounded into you, each thrust harder than the last, the sound of your skin meeting his filling the room.

"You feel fucking amazing." He whimpered, his voice strained, the force of his movements making your whole body shake beneath him.

He cursed under his breath as your nails scraped down his back, and with one last, brutal thrust, you felt everything snap—your body tensing, your legs trembling as the pressure exploded inside you. A loud, breathless moan escaped your lips as your orgasm ripped through you, your whole body convulsing around him.

He didn't stop though, didn't give you a second to breathe. His thrusts only grew more erratic, chasing his own release as you clenched around him, each movement pushing him closer to the edge.

"Fuck, yes." He groaned, his eyes locked onto yours as he slammed into you again. 

"I'm there..." He buried his face into your neck, movements sloppy as he finally came, his body shaking as he released with a low groan.

He collapsed against you, his body still trembling, his breath coming in ragged gasps. For a moment neither of you moved, lying there tangled together, trying to catch your breath. His head rested on your shoulder, his chest rising and falling against yours. The tension in his muscles slowly started to melt away, and you felt the steady rhythm of his heart begin to slow.

He shifted slightly, pulling back just enough to look at you, his gaze softer now. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, brushing away a strand of hair.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, unable to find the words just yet. He gave a small smile. "I didn't mean to... push too hard."

You shook your head, pressing your palm to his chest. "It was... good." You whispered, your voice still shaky, but calm now.

"Good." He murmured again.

══════════════════════════

The day after – 1:18 PM

You woke up to loud, insistent banging on your door.

You blinked your eyes open, lashes heavy with sleep, your body sore and aching in ways that immediately brought back hazy memories of the night before. You reached for your phone on the nightstand, and the screen lit up— four unread messages, all from Jaemin.

Jaemin [12:38 PM]:

"u want chicken tenders or a burger?"

Jaemin [12:44 PM]: 

"Hello? I need u to hurry I'm in line."

Jaemin [12:57 PM]:

"Just got chicken tenders u took too long, otw."

Jaemin [1:17 PM]:

"Dude, open the door wtf?"

Your stomach dropped... shit.

It was Sunday, your Sunday. Movies and lunch with Jaemin, your thing since middle school, the one routine neither of you ever skipped and was always on time for.

You sat up too quickly and instantly regretted it. A sharp pulse radiated through your thighs, your knees folded slightly beneath you as you stood. You hissed through your teeth, muttering a quiet curse. The soreness, the silence in the room, the disheveled sheets tangled behind you and...

No Haechan, not a trace.

You probably weren't going to hear from him again. If anything, he'd gotten exactly what he wanted and maybe... so had you.

You slipped into the first pair of underwear you could find, pulling on an oversized t-shirt and not even checking the mirror. You couldn't be bothered. Your body felt heavier than usual, limbs slow, mind foggy.

You stumbled to the door, fingers fumbling over the lock before it clicked open. Jaemin stood there with a takeout bag in one hand and annoyance on his face. "Where the fuck—" He froze. 

His expression shifted fast, first frustration then concern as his eyes scanned your face, your hair, the obvious haze of sleep in your eyes. "Are you okay?"

You nodded once, voice scratchy. "Yeah. Just... come in."

You turned around, not realizing how stiffly you were walking until you heard his voice again behind you.

"You're walking weird."

You glanced over your shoulder, trying to play it off. "I just woke up, Jaem."

But his brows drew together, and he followed you with quiet suspicion. He spun once in your desk chair before planting his feet and letting his eyes roam, and stopped.

You didn't notice at first, but his gaze lingered just a little too long on your neck.

"Those weren't there last time I saw you." He said. 

You forced a small laugh, brushing your hair back casually. "What, you keeping track now?"

"It's hard not to when it looks like someone marked you up like a vampire." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

You turned away, cheeks flushing, but you stayed silent.

He held up the takeout bag. "I got you food, don't know if you saw my text."

"I didn't." You said, hovering at the edge of your bed. "But thanks, I'm starving."

He smiled for real this time, but just as he reached to hand you the bag something on the floor caught his attention.

His hand froze mid air. He bent slightly, reaching down beside your nightstand. A second later, you watched his fingers close around a small, crinkled square of foil.

An empty condom wrapper.

He stared at it, his jaw twitching once before he tossed it into the trash without another word.

The air in the room changed instantly. You stood still, frozen as he looked at you.

You tried to lighten the mood, your voice forced. "The one you gave me, remember?"

But he didn't smile, didn't even blink. His voice dropped, almost too calm. "Did you...?"

You hesitated, then sighed. "Yeah. Last night."

He blinked once, and then again. He opened his mouth, but for a second, no sound came out. "Thought you were saving yourself."

You gave a slight shrug, arms folding across your chest. "Guess I changed my mind."

Another moment of silence. He tilted his head slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips now, confused. "Who was the lucky guy?"

You hesitated, biting your bottom lip.

His eyes narrowed before he scoffed. "I know that face... no way."

Still, you said nothing.

He let out a short, stunned laugh, humorless. "No fucking way." Jaemin stood up, the desk chair creaking loudly behind him.

You met his gaze, heart thudding. "Jaem—"

"You let him?" His voice rose, disbelief mixed with something else— hurt, maybe. "Out of all people, him? Seriously? What, he texted you 'come over' and you just—fucking hell Y/n."

"It wasn't like that." You murmured.

"You ghost me for hours, you never miss our Sundays. I show up and you're sore and covered in hickeys—"

"I was asleep, Jaemin."

He scoffed. "Name one time you've ever slept past noon this year?"

You stayed silent.

"Exactly."

"I didn't plan for it to happen." You said quietly.

"That's the problem... he did!" He snapped. "I didn't think you were so easy. What, he called you pretty and that's enough for you to spread your legs?"

"No, I—"

"What, you've known this guy for like a month? You knew he just wanted to use you and you went along with it?"

"I was okay with that! That's what I wanted."

"You were okay being used for sex by some guy you barely even know?"

"No, not like that—"

"So then what? Because to me, it sounds like you're just a desperate slut."

You blinked. That word hit harder than you expected.

"Oh, I'm a slut?" Your voice was sharp now. "One body and I'm a slut, yet you dance around fucking anything with a pulse. You're disgusting... and easy."

"I'm disgusting and easy?" He snapped. "You let a senior fuckboy you don't even know take your virginity. It's actually sickening."

You stepped toward him, jaw clenched. "Would it have been sickening if it was you?"

Silence. His face froze, jaw locked as his eyes flickered, and he didn't say a word.

You let out a breath. "If you're so disgusted, then leave. First of all, it's none of your business who I sleep with— I don't stick my nose into yours. You've fucked girls I can't stand, and I never made it everyone's problem."

Your voice rose now. "You're my best friend— not my parent, not my boyfriend, and definitely not my mentor. So if you came here to judge me on every move I make, then you can go fuck yourself."

"Excuse me for being the only one that fucking cares about you."

You opened your mouth, but he was already tossing the takeout bag onto your bed with more force than necessary.

"Here." He muttered. "Since he couldn't even feed you."

Then he turned and the door slammed behind him.

The silence that followed felt like a vacuum, like the air had been sucked out of the room the moment the door slammed shut.

You stood there, unmoving, arms still crossed tightly around yourself. Your chest rose and fell a little too fast, like your body hadn't caught up to your brain yet.

"Desperate slut."

You could still hear it. Loud in the quiet and it hurt. God, it fucking hurt.

You sank down slowly to the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the takeout bag he'd thrown toward you. You let out a shaky breath and dropped your head into your hands.

He'd looked so angry, so betrayed, like you done something personally to him. But he wasn't your boyfriend, he never was, he never wanted to be.

So why did he get to act like this? Why did it feel like you were the one who done something wrong? You hadn't expected Haechan to stay. You hadn't expected Jaemin to explode and yet here you were, alone.

He was supposed to be your best friend.

But best friends didn't call you disgusting. Best friends didn't throw insults in your face and storm out. Best friends didn't look at you like you were less for doing something you had every right to do.

You didn't even realize you were crying until the tears hit your thighs. Silent, hot, and angry.

You swiped at them roughly, jaw tightening.

He didn't get to reduce you like that. He didn't get to decide what your choices meant, and he definitely didn't get to pretend like he was some kind of savior when all he'd ever done was hover just close enough to make you want more and then pull away every time you reached.

Some part of you still wanted him to come back. Still wanted him to knock again, to take it all back and say he was sorry.

But another part of you was done waiting on Jaemin to treat you like you mattered only when it was convenient for him. Because you didn't regret what happened.

Not the choice, not the experience, not even the consequences.

You only regretted giving someone like Jaemin the power to make you feel small.

══════════════════════════

[adieutristana]

appelle mon numéro; powder x fem!reader

the way i love mylène farmer it’s blasphemous i haven’t made a fic based on one of her songs. finally fixing that!

songfic based on ‘appelle mon numéro’ by mylène farmer

english lyrics

summary; powder calls late at night because she misses your voice. one thing leads to another.

characters included; powder (act iii au)

tags/warnings; dom!reader, sub!powder, phone sex, dirty talk, fluff, masturbation (powder), praise, squirting, porn with (some) plot

men and minors dni.

this is torture.

of course you're busy. you're one of the academy's top-performing students, finals season is approaching. you've been taking just under the maximum amount of credits for the semester, despite powder's insistent protests that you don't always need to work so hard.

but your pride gets in the way, despite the love you have for powder. "just two more days," you'd told her. "two days until the weekend, and i won't study. we'll spend the whole weekend together, i promise."

powder understands. she really does, and she'd never want to purposely get in the way of your studies. it's only been three days, but you've never been apart this long in the entire seven months you've been dating, and she can't help the way she feels. she checks her phone to see if you've texted anything, but her notification bar is dry- so she does the next best thing, checking your location.

you're at the academy's library, either deep in textbooks or sleeping on one. great.

powpow:

hey baby, just checking in to see if ur ok. miss u :(

around ten minutes pass of silence, and each of those minutes only add to the fire of powder's anxiety. dare she say it- loneliness. and then a little 'ding' comes from her phone.

my heart:

hi love, i'm ok. just wrapped up a study session, now i'm going to the dining hall and i'll probably go to sleep after that.

i miss u more, i'm counting down the days till the weekend 💋

powpow:

but that's too long to wait </3 can't u make a stop underground after eating??

my heart:

i wish, but i have a 9am review session tmr :( i'm sorry pow

she sighs behind the screen, but powder gets it. this is temporary, soon enough you'll be done with finals and have the entire summer to spend with her. and despite all of those completely rational reasons why you can't see each other right now, she just wants to see you. be close to you, be able to kiss you, feel your skin on hers tangled in the sheets-

she needs to distract herself somehow. so powder reaches underneath her bed and picks up the blue notebook you'd bought for her. she'd never been one for journaling, but the fact it was a gift from you made her start using it. she'd write down what happened throughout her day- her thoughts, feelings, anything that would come to mind. it was therapeutic, like you'd told her it would be.

though even as the girl writes, the words are looking less like actual coherent thoughts and more like jumbled scribbles. her grip on the pen is faltering, and she stares at the page for a few moments before writing the next sentence. this usually does something to put powder's mind at ease, so why isn't it working now?

powder knows why, but she's trying not to admit it to herself. because damn it, you're busy, you've had a long day hunched over your laptop and books. you're probably just finishing up your late dinner by now and heading back to your dorm hall to get ready for bed. she feels so selfish, but the girl can't help it. she's needy.

she feels that ache between her legs, the one you're usually there to soothe. your long fingers curling inside her at just the right angle, or your tongue slithering around her swollen clit until her thighs almost clamp around your head. she looks back on those memories like they're distant and gone, like they didn't happen last week.

her phone buzzes beside her, and she immediately picks it up to the notification that you've arrived at your building. she's almost trembling now, and powder's going through such internal turmoil. she just wants to talk to you at least, not read text on a screen. at this point, she'll take anything she can get.

her finger moves to your contact, and her fingertip hovers over the 'call' button for just a moment before she taps it. a few rings on your end, then-

"hello?"

powder's heart contracts in her chest at the mere sound of your voice, and fuck, she's already feeling hot.

"hi, babe," she says into the receiver. "sorry, i know you're about to go to bed, i just.. wanted to hear your voice."

"don't worry about it, pow. i'm glad you called," you hum. "what's an hour or two of missed sleep?"

she hears a rustling of sheets, and your voice sounds so sweet. you do sound tired, but you're using the same gentle tone you always do with powder.

"how was your day?"

"it was good," a bit of a lie, she misses you like hell. "i didn't do much. helped out at the last drop in the morning, and i've kinda just been.. relaxing at home since then. what about you?"

you nod as if she can see you, a little smile tugging at your lips.

"i'm glad you had a good day," you murmur. your voice grows a bit softer, likely due to academy quiet hours going into effect. "the same as yesterday and the day before. just studying, studying, and more studying."

"well, you're being productive."

"i guess i am," you sigh, finally pulling the covers over yourself. "i miss you."

that does powder in. if she wasn't desperate before, she absolutely is now- and her breath nearly catches in her throat at those words. this is embarrassing.

"i miss you too."

her voice is trembling, and she hopes to janna that you won't catch onto it. maybe you're too tired and disoriented after studying to notice, but you've always been rather perceptive.

"...are you okay?" you murmur. "you sound a little.. i don't know, off."

powder swallows, taking a deep inhale in through her nose to try and muster some kind of believable response.

"yeah, just uh- had a lot of caffeine. have to keep my energy up somehow!"

"powder, i know that's not what's going on. come on, talk to me. you know i'll listen."

and still, it takes the girl such extreme effort to not just bare her soul to you right now. the fact that she can feel her body heating up, her pale cheeks flushing at every word you've spoken. she finds herself subconsciously squeezing her thighs together. the fact that she wishes you were giving her some kind of stimulation- anything, just to ease the absolute agony she's in.

"i just miss you, a lot. i told you.."

"you're hiding something," you respond, your voice taking on an almost pleading tone. "just tell me. i'm your girlfriend."

the world 'girlfriend' does her in all over again. she switches the phone to her non-dominant hand before her free hand starts trailing down her body, over her clothed stomach and toward the soft fabric of her sleep shorts. it takes every ounce of restraint in her body to not start stimulating her clothed clit- not now. not while you're talking so sweetly to her.

but powder also can't bear the thought of lying to you when you so obviously see through it, and when you're practically begging her to tell you what's wrong.

"damn it, i need you."

a beat of silence, then a little hum from the speaker.

"that's it?" you ask, your voice still soft- but with a rasp that wasn't there just a minute ago. "why didn't you just say so?"

"because it's- you've been working so hard! i get why we can't see each other, but fuck, i can't help it. i miss you. i miss your voice, i miss your lips, i miss you touching me."

"yeah? you do?"

your voice seems almost teasing, mocking her without even meaning to. her fingertips slip underneath the elastic of her sleep shorts while she leans back into the star-shaped pillow on her bed. the room is dark, only illuminated by distant moonlight and the faint glow of her phone screen.

"so badly," she nearly gasps. "please, just.. anything, anything. wish you could take a break from those stupid books and just fuck me."

fingertips ghost over the elastic of her panties. powder rarely ever gets this needy, but maybe that's because she's not used to going without your touch for this long. she's acting out of character. she can't help herself, it's like her mind isn't her own.

"you wanna touch yourself, don't you?"

"yes, yes-" her breath hitches in her throat, her hand staying still. she wants nothing more than to fuck herself to the sound of your voice, but powder is good. she'll wait. "please, let me..."

"go ahead, baby."

the girl wastes no time. her fingers dip under her panties, immediately finding her aching clit. the second her thumb lands, she lets out a sharp gasp into the receiver, one she swears she hears you chuckle at.

"ahh- toots," she breathes out, rubbing slow circles into the bud. "i need this, thank you..."

"no need for thanks," you whisper. "fuck, i wish i wish there. do you have any idea what i'd do to you?"

"no.. no, ah- tell me, please."

her finger picks up speed, letting out breathy moans. each noise is music to your ears, strengthening your own sense of want. but this is for powder. you're the one who's been gone, this is the least you can do.

"shit.. i'd be on top of you, my thumb on your pretty clit while i slip a finger inside."

power moans at the words themselves, and almost as if she's taking your words as instructions, slips a finger into her already dripping hole. wet and warm, it nearly sucks her in. it's not just desire, it's a sort of primal need.

"nngh.. yeah, what else?"

"i'd fuck you nice and slow at first," you rasp. "just.. take my time with you."

the digit slips in and out of her, slow- in, out, in, out, creating a gentle rhythm. she wishes so badly that it was your finger instead, you've always been able to reach places she couldn't herself. you know how to please her just right.

"and then i'd add another finger, and start going a little quicker.. curling my fingers inside."

"shit- aaahh," she whines. her ring finger goes into her hole, starting to fuck herself harder and deeper- curling her fingers so she can just barely graze her own g-spot. her walls flutter around her fingers, and she feels so hot. "keep talking, keep talking-"

powder loves you, she really does. she imagines glancing over her shoulder at you pounding into her from behind with your strap, then your pussy gliding against hers as you both chase a mutual peak. but your words are the thing that affects her the most. choppy blue hair fans out beneath her on that same star pillow, framing her as a portrait of pure longing.

"gods, i can almost feel it- you're soaked, aren't you?"

"hmmph, yeah, sofuckingwet.."

"keep fucking yourself," you whisper, a soft yet firm command. "make yourself cum to my voice, baby. you're doing so good, my perfect girl.."

heat pools in her stomach. sweat drips down her forehead, fingers pounding in and out of her cunt with a loud schlick sound over and over. powder's head tilts back the slightest bit- her fingers still working her clit, lewd moans falling from her pouty lips. in her mind's eye is your face directly above hers, looking into her eyes so lovingly. what she wouldn't give for that to be real.

"you sound amazing, come on.. i bet you look so pretty right now, you always do."

"wish it was you, ungh-" she breathes out through whimpers. part of powder wonders if you can hear her arousal, hear her getting herself off. she hopes you can. "please, i just want you- ah.."

"i wish it was me too," the sound is somewhere between a whine and a groan. "but janna, you sound so good.. i love you, you know that?"

"mhm, love you too.."

pale thighs part further out of instinct powder feels the knot in her belly tighten, tighten. her body feels like it's on fire, set ablaze by every praise from the speaker. she's holding onto that phone as if it's her lifeline.

"gonna- gonna, oh, janna!"

if only you could see her right now. you're internally cursing yourself for not asking her to prop up the phone and turn her camera on, but it's a bit late for that now.

"cum for me, powder," you whisper, words low and sweet. "you can do it, i know you can."

your final encouragement pushes the girl off the edge, her back arching off the bed as a strangled cry escapes her. the rasp of her voice cracks, gripping her phone so tight as liquid shoots over her hand. onto the sheets, soaking underneath her, chest heaving.

"ah, aah! cumming.. oh, fuuuuuuck-"

"that's it, powder, that's it- fuck, you were perfect."

her breath is coming in slow pants. the girl slowly slips her glistening fingers from her pussy, letting out one final shaky breath. she's slowly, slowly coming to her senses.

"...thank you," she breathes out. "thank you, thank you.. i'll see you this weekend."

"mhm.. i'm counting down the hours."

[scorpioriesling]

Temptation Island - Episode 5

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Xaden, Liam, Ridoc, Bodhi, Aaric, Dain, Garrick x reader

Warning(s): smut descriptions, light angst

Summary: Four couples come to Temptation Island to test the strenght of their relationships -- relationships built on rocky foundations, that is. Will these couples survive? Will these individuals be tempted during their stay on the island, or stay true to their partners? Only readers decide -- find out what happens next in this juicy, dramatic series!

SR’s Note: Guys... shit is about to get real. That's all.

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @whyucloudingmymind @bookofriverr @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff @paintedbyshadows @woollybread786 @lanamyersismywife @freakishfandomfiend @littleemissperfecttt @luvly-writer @fiahtheteaaddict @loveofmychips @bodhidurrans @notnowkittenwhisker @invisiblepixies @emmiwolfsworld @bookishbishhh @acourtofbatboydreams (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Episode 4

The newcomer's presence was, well, many things. The four of you women couldn't help but stare, watching as those bright white teeth offset those piercing green eyes. He strode in, the picture of sheer confidence; which only earned him a few pointed stares from the other guys.

Some didn't even dane him a fleeting glance, as their eyes were glued to you.

"Speaking of -- everyone, I'd love to introduce you to the newest temptation, Aaric!"

Sloane clapped, smirking when Cat and Violet joined in. You registered his gaze on you, the heat of his stare warmer than the sun above. He grinned, glancing to each girl and then fixating on you once more.

"Ladies -- a pleasure to meet you," he said, clapping his hands in front of him. "I hope I can make your time on the island well worth it."

Cat and Violet giggled, which only earned the quartet more glares from the original guys. Mark turned his attention to you girls again.

"Please remember, tomorrow morning you'll need to be asking another one of the guys on a date for the evening. Again, I wasnt to reiterate that choosing a new person is not required, but I'll always reccomend exploring all options."

He turned, clapping Aaric on the back.

"In the mean time, get to know Aaric and welcome him to the villa; you have the rest of the day to do as you please!"

✧･ﾟ: *

You'd spent most of the day down by the beach, trying to clear your head as you listened to the waves hitting the shore. The other three girls had joined you one by one, each spending time doing other things before coming down to gossip.

"I just feel like the new guy, Aaric?" Sloane guessed, trying to remember his name. "Obviously he'd gorgeous, but I wouldn't go so far to say he's... boyfriend material."

Violet straightened beside you, glancing up from her book.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked, wiggling her brows at Sloane. The blonde shrugged, gazing off at the horizon.

"I don't know, he just gives off the vibes like he's around for a good time, not a long time, you know?"

Violet swallowed, contemplating. Cat took the opportunity to chime in.

"He sure is attractive," she commented, picking up her blue hawaiian in favor of taking a drink. "Not as attractive as my Traeger, though."

She took a long drink with that, and the video clips from the last bonfire played through your head. You turned to Violet, your gaze soft.

"Have you thought any more about what you'll do?" You asked gently. She slowly looked to you, shaking her head just as slowly.

"I'm not really sure," she admitted, and your heart ached for her. "I just thought Halden would really change here, and really be faithful to me." She paused, her brows knitting as she looked down. "I guess I thought wrong."

Sloane loudly slurped up the last of her pina colada through her straw, mostly just sucking up air through the little pipe. You turned to look at her, and she froze as though being caught in the act.

"Yeah, Vi, let me be the first to tell you that you should dump his ass," she commented, dropping her glass into the sand beside her. "If he can't remian faithful to you, there's no point in keeping him around."

You chuckled, taking in Sloane's words.

"Oh yeah? Does that mean you're completely done with Jack, then?"

She snorted.

"I wouldn't care if I left this island single and sunburnt -- there's no way he'd ever be able to redeem himself."

She tossed her blonde braid over her shoulder, and the conversation went quiet as a newcomer approached. You sucked in a breath as Aaric trailed closer, smiling as he approached.

"Good afternoon, ladies!" He greeted warmly, and it seemed the other girls straightened up too.

"Good afternoon, Aaric," the four of you said in sync. The five of you shared a laugh, but Aaric shared only your gaze.

"I uh... I wanted to come down and talk with you again, especially you, Y/N," he admitted, and the girls ooohed as your face flushed.

"Me?" You asked, and he nodded.

"You," he affirmed. Cat uncrossed her legs, pushing off her lounger as she stood. She stretched her arms, squinting into the sun.

"Perfect timing -- I need a break from the sun anyways," she said, effectively dismissing herself. Violet rose quickly, laying her towel on her beach chair as she followed Cat toward the ocean.

"Me too," was all she said as she scampered off. Sloane sighed and stood, shaking her head.

"Well, I'm not gonna make this awkward by staying," she said, earning a chuckle at her response. "And besides; I haven't had the chance to annoy the shit out of Dain yet today."

Your brows furrowed at that. "I got the impression you disliked Dain."

She giggled.

"I do, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy poking at him."

✧･ﾟ: *

You weren't sure how the four hours had passed, but they did rather quickly. The sun had begun to sink toward the horizon, and yet you still sat on your lounger; though now, you rested against Aaric's chest.

"What is your biggest priority, going forward?" He asked, his fingers trailing along your arm. Though it was warm, you felt goosebumps at the touch, unsure what to make of your reaction. The conversation was good, you had to admit; Aaric had asked you everything from your favorite flavor of ice cream to what your parents were like. But now, the conversation had taken a more serious turn.

You sighed heavily. "Honestly, I'm trying to prioritize me this time. Put my own feelings forward, and not worry so much as to what others think."

Aaric nodded from behind you, his tanned arms wrapping around your waist. You couldn't help but snuggle into the touch, both hating and loving the way you felt so connected to a mere stranger you only met this morning.

What really made the butterflies inside run rampant was when he leaned in, kissing the apple of your cheek.

"Perfect answer," he responded, leaning back once more against the back of the lounger. "You should proritize yourself, and allow yourself to have fun with whomever you please."

With the sound of the lapping waves, and the setting of the sun; it was no wonder you began to doze off.

And to your surprise, you weren't uncomfortable falling asleep to the rhythm of Aaric's heart beat pressed against you.

✧･ﾟ: *

The two of you awoke to the sight of the setting sun on the horizon, its orangey glow peeking just over the ocean's waves. A few of the others had made their way down to the beach, bringing plates and drinks along the way before settling in. A few of the guys even had surfboards.

You instantly sat up, aware of the position you were in. Lying atop Aaric in the lounger was nowhere near what you envisioned happening today; neither did anyone else, either. You received a few pointed looks as you gathered yourself, peeling your back from his chest and rising quickly.

"Woah! Someone must be hungry," Aaric teased, slowly making his way to his feet behind you. A rush of embarassment coursed through you as you met Xaden's eyes from across the beach, realizing he'd been staring at you. He fixed you with the type of stare that said he wasn't exactly mad, but rather... disappointed.

It broke your heart even more.

"Y-yeah," you answered, half-heartedly. You made your way to the boardwalk, realizing you may be coming off as rude by sprinting away like that. You turned back, catching Aaric's dejected stare as you strode away.

"I'll be right back, I uh, need to grab some dinner," you offered, hoping he'd accept the explaination. He nodded, arranging his face into yet again another smile. He waved as you left, option to join a few of the guys near the beach bonfire they'd been setting up.

But no matter where you went, you couldn't shake the awful feeling that had come over you.

✧･ﾟ: *

When you returned from making your plate at the villa, the beach was much more alive with activity. Straightening your willowy cover-up, you walked right back Xaden and Liam to take your spot on an overturned log, right next to Cat. She fixed you with a side-eye, but you held up a hand before she could even say anything.

"Don't. Ask." You said, forking a chunk of melon and biting into it. She pursed her lips, listening as you went on. "We just talked. Somehow I ended up between his legs, and we fell asleep. Nothing else happened -- no need to worry."

She chuckled, sipping from her refilled glass.

"I'm not worried, no; but you should be," she hedged, watching as your eyes trailed from your plate to meet hers.

"What did you say?" You asked quietly. Cat sighed, looking over at Aaric and the small group he'd surrounded himself with. Ridoc, Bodhi, Violet and Garrick stood near the new arrival, watching intently as he waved his hands and talked animatedly.

"It's just... well, no one was talking about it during the day, really," she promised, placing a hand on your knee. "But, after everyone came down and saw what was going on... people made assumptions," she concluded. You dropped your fork onto your plate, narrowing your eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked, instantly regretting how icy it came out. Cat merely shrugged, looking at Aaric again.

"I don't know, but... maybe Sloane was right. We've only just met Aaric this morning, and he might not be-"

You stood, your brows furrowed as she stared up at you. Instant anger coursed through you, and confusion over how this all went so wrong.

"So, since he wanted to spend the afternoon with me, you're telling me it's ingenuine? Because, what, we fell asleep together on the beach?" Was it so impossible that someone as kind as Aaric might actually be interested in you? All your past, irrational fears began bubbling to the surface; and that's when you began telling yourself, she was probably right. No one would or ever had loved you the way you wished they would. Why would Aaric be any different?

Cat stood then, her arms gripping your biceps.

"No, that's not what I'm saying, I just-"

"What, then? That because someone has a genuine interest in me, I should "watch out" because his intentions aren't pure?" Tears welled in your eyes, and Cat shushed you.

"Y/N, you're taking this all out of context-"

"Don't," you growled, yanking your arms from her grasp. She dropped her arms limply at her sides, watching you with a hurt expression as you stomped off. The beachgoers fell quiet as you quickly made your way to the villa, ignoring the tears rolling down your cheeks.

You flung open the front door, and took the steps two at a time up toward the second floor. Your vision blurred as you stepped down the hall, and you reached for the doorhandle as your other hand wiped your eyes. Sniffling, you strode right through that door, too -- only realizing then that you were not in your room.

Definately, not in your room.

Lying face-up on the four poster bed was Dain, his shoulders bulging as his arms extended out from him. His hands gripped Sloane's waist as she bounced atop his lap, her lips parted and eyes screwed shut. You gasped before you could think better of yourself; and watched in horror as her blue eyes widened, focusing in on you. Dain's head turned, his rosy cheeks darkening in shade as he realized they'd been caught.

You opened your mouth to speak, to apologize, to say anything; but, nothing came out. Turning on your heel, you darted from the room, effectively pulling the door closed behind you and ignoring the two as they called out your name. As you bolted down the hallway, you realized you'd accidentally stumbled through the first door on the left; not the second.

Finally reaching your room, you heard Sloane's bedroom door swing open down the hall. You turned just then, meeting her pleading eyes as she simply stared at you. Another tear slipped free as you fiddled with the doorhandle, wanting nothing more to be left alone in your room.

"Please," she called, her voice cracking. You swallowed, looking at her a second longer before clearing the doorway into your own bedroom. Shutting the door and locking it, you bounded for your bed, the tears falling more quickly now. Soft cries sounded as you crawled beneath the covers, not even bothering to change from your swimwear as you made yourself comfortable between the sheets.

A million thoughts raced through your mind. What did it mean, Aaric being interested in you so quickly? Why was Cat so invested in your new relationship that she felt the need to warn you? It's not like she knew him either, he'd only just arrived 12 hours ago -- what would he be telling everyone tonight, down on the beach in the wake of your absence?

Who would you even choose to take on a date tomorrow?

As your head began to hurt from the continuous crying, you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing this would all end. Right here, right now.

As you dozed off once more, you realized Mark had been right. Today was indeed a very hard, very emotional day.

✧･ﾟ: *

It was nearly silent at breakfast the following morning. Rain fell lightly outside, increasing the vibrancy of the island's plantlife. You studied it as you approached the breakfast bar alone, not a single other person in sight.

Some people came and went; Dain for example, quickly made a plate and headed for the beach without so much as an awkward glance shared between the two of you. Violet only came in for some juice, avoiding the couch you sat on in favor of sitting on the covered patio outside with so much as a shy smile. What had gotten into everyone? Were they just nervous about the dates today?

After an hour of silence, you cleaned up your things and prepared to leave. Your mind raced as you headed for the doorway, nearly body-slamming Xaden in your wake.

"Oh!" You gasped, the small outburst so loud as it echoed in the empty space around you. His hand lightly brushed your waist as you stumbled, assisting you in regaining your balance. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No need," Xaden said softly, his deep brown eyes staring straight down into yours. Your breath stilled as you remembered your first date here on the island; how he'd held you in the water, his presence a reassuring one.

You stepped back, and he dropped his hand. You awkwardly looked around as he cleared his throat, scrounging up a coversation as he picked up an empty plate.

"So... have you chosen a date yet for today?" He asked. You looked to him, watching as he piled bacon onto his platter.

Swallowing, you fought for an appropriate and non-insulting answer.

"I haven't yet... you're all so great, it's... hard to choose."

He nodded slowly, making his way down the line.

"Well, maybe not all of us."

You frowned, confused. He kept talking.

"I was lucky enough to have Violet choose me again."

You raised your eyebrows. Violet? The girl so ready to defend her shitty boyfriend's actions, had already asked Xaden out yet again?

You shook your head in disbelief.

"Wow, Xaden, that's great!"

His eyes found yours as he cleared the end of the buffet, plucking a fork and knife from the counter.

"Is it?" He asked, rounding the marble slab as he slowly strode toward you once more. You gulped.

"Y-yes?" You answered, more like a question than a statement. He sighed, looking into your eyes once more.

"You seem unsure." He observed, his gaze searching yours. "This isn't easy for me to say to you, but... I'm starting to like her. Violet, I mean." He coughed, clearing his throat again. Your eyes widened, but he continued.

"I just... I feel weird, going on these dates with her when I don't know where we stand. Our first date was incredible, I mean... I had a great time," he said, his gaze faltering as he recalled the memories himself. "But, after the date with Garrick, and then everything with Aaric, I don't really know where we stand."

You shook your head, waving your hands out in front of you.

"Woah woah woah... hold on. What do you mean, "everything with Aaric"?" You asked. His brows rose as he fixed you with an assessing stare.

"He was pretty talkative last night. Telling all of us how into him you were, feeding is some story about you two on the beach... personally, I didn't buy into it. Can't say the same for Garrick, though." He shrugged. Your cheeks burned, wanting to explain and ask a million things in one single moment.

"Wait, hold on -- nothing happened though, we just sat there and talked and..." you trailed off, trying to understand what he could be telling the others. Was that why everyone was being so weird around you this morning?

Xaden sighed, placing a light hand on your shoulder.

"Look, I know this process can be... a lot. It's a lot for us guys too, and though most of us want the best for you, not all of us do." He said, raising an eyebrow as if to indicate Aaric was the culprit. "That being said, I just wish to know where we stand, because I'm really starting to like Violet, and I don't want to persue anything without knowing what we are first."

You swallowed, commanding your mind into stillness as you considered his words. What was Xaden to you, anyway? It's not like you jumped to ask him on a date like Violet had -- where did you want things to go with him, anyway?

He retracted his hand, holding his plate as he made way for the covered porch.

"Just think about it, okay?" He suggested, sliding open the door and grinning when Violet caught his eye. You watch his happy stride as he walked her way, sitting beside her and immediately chatting her up.

Though it warmed your heart to see, the only emotion registering in your brain was messed-up, utter confusion.

✧･ﾟ: *

You passed Cat's open bedroom door on your way back to your room, and judging from the lack of sound, she was away. Sighing, you continued on... only glancing at Sloane's door for a minute before retreating to your room.

The unexpected form lounging atop your comforter made you jump, a short yelp escaping before you could register what it was. Who it was. You clutched your chest, leaning against the wall as he sat up, grinning like a cat.

You instantly glared at him.

"What the Hell are you doing?" You griped, striding toward your vanity. He only shrugged.

"Hoping you'd find me in here and ask me on your date today," he mused, cackling when your heated stare turned lethal.

"Now why would I do that, when you've been spreading lies about me to anyone who will listen?" You asked, snatching your hairbrush from your vanity. He shrugged nonchalantly as you tugged the bristles through your knots, trying not too focus too hard on his shirtless torso.

"Ahh c'mon, all in good fun, right?" He teased, sitting up straight. "What happened to not caring what others thought, right?"

You huffed,, giving up on brushing and instead opting to cross your arms.

"Aaric. Get. Out." You stammered, pointing to the door. "Now."

He rose from the bed slowly, gliding toward your bedroom door with ease. He tossed you a wink as he left.

"You're missing out."

You pushed the door closed behind him, leaning against it as you slowly slid to the floor. What were you doing? You knew in that moment, Sloane and Cat had been right; he wasn't here for anything other than "fun". You should've taken them more seriously.

Dropping your head to your knees, you sighed, the weight of everything pushing down on you. You'd yelled at Cat, caught Sloane in the act, didn't know where you stood with Xaden and had done something to upset Garrick so bad, he wouldn't even talk to you. And to top it all off, Aaric was flittering around this place making shit up about you.

You sighed, reailzing the worst pressure of all: it was nearly noon, and you still didn't have a date for tonight.

Slowly, you raised your head, a thought occurring to you. Once the lightbulb had gone off, you scurried to your feet, yanking open your door and heading right for the outdoor workout area.

If the pressure on you was too much, you knew just the person who could help you lighten the load.

✧･ﾟ: *

That night you approached the small ice cream shop in town, your smile light and tummy full. Liam had jumped at the idea of spending the evening with you, and it really did make your heart happy to see someone so excited over you.

Liam made you completely forget earlier's events, and it was as though you left all your troubles at the villa. The two of you had gone out to dinner, a little Italian place but nowhere too fancy; and since the rain had momentarily cleared, the two of you biked around the island, finding yourselves now in front of a small ice cream shop.

"I'm definately getting rocky road!" Liam announced, his hand in yours as he led you toward the door. You lifted your hand to cover your giggle, and he lifted his to open the door for you. Allowing you to go in first, you curtsied at his gesture, only earning you another beaming smile. His eyes followed you inside, his gaze tracing the details on your sundress yet again.

As you approached the counter, your lips twisted, trying to decide what you wanted. There were so many good options: cookie dough, mint chocolate chip, pistachio, vanilla, strawberry...

"Do you know what you want?" Liam asked, bracing his arms against the countertop as he stood beside you. The angle of the lights against the bare skin of his arms brought out the varying hues in his sunkissed skin, and you seriously considered him more a treat than all this.

"I uh..."

He chuckled, his thumb and forefinger pinching the apple of your cheek.

"I appreciate your ogling; makes me feel less shitty for always doing it to you."

Your cheeks flushed, and he grinned down at you.

"Want me to choose something for you?"

You nodded wordlessly, and Liam spoke up when the attendant approached the cash register before him.

"Two cones please; one rocky road, and... one caramel dream."

The attendant nodded, getting to work on those cones. Once you'd secured the bag, the two of you strode outside once again, opting to sit on a bench and enjoy the nice evening.

Liam handed you your ice cream, and your breath hitched as your fingers brushed his during the handoff. Don't be stupid, you scolded yourself. Other guys, like Ridoc or (unfortunately) Aaric had their hands all over you the other day -- this was nothing different.

But that night up in your room when he sought you out, making sure you were okay...

You shook your head, forcing yourself not to think about it.

Feigning nonchalance, you tucked your hair behind your ear, only for it to fall the moment you went in for a bite. You had to admit, he picked good; the light and caramelly treat was exactly what you needed today.

"Good?" He asked, his lips pressing against the cool white mound atop his cone. You nodded, licking a fat stripe over the head of yours.

"Very," you assured him, reveling in the taste. He paused beside you, side-eyeing your movements. It was only then that you realized how your actions came across -- and the two of you burst out laughing.

It was a pleasure to watch the corners of Liam’s bright blue eyes crinkle as he laughed, enjoying the silky sound of joy as he dwelled in the moment. Your eyes traced over his arms again, from his shoulders all the way down to his fingers. What would they feel like, brushing away the tears you cried? How would they feel, intwined in yours during your happiest moments? Did you even want them on you?

In that moment you leaned in, aiming to kiss Liam’s cheek. He turned at the sudden movement, and your lips ended up pressing against the corner of his mouth instead. He grinned as you pulled back, watching the sunset light dance in your eyes as you registered the sweet taste of his treat lingering on your mouth.

"I'm sorry, I was going for your cheek, but-"

"Can I kiss you again?" He asked, his voice raw. His hand snaked around the back of your neck, cradling your head as you looked up at him. You smiled lightly, nodding only once before his fingers pulled your lips to his once more.

“I feel like I’ve been waiting forever to do this.”

✧･ﾟ: *

You practically floated down the empty hallways of the villa back to your bedroom. You twirled on your tip toes, allowing your sundress to fan out around you. The events of earlier continued replaying in your mind; how Liam’s hand gently guided your head when he kissed you, how silky sweet his mouth had tasted pressed against yours -- and Gods, he looked so good tonight, you couldn't get the mental image of him out of your mind--

"How was your date?"

You halted at the words, surprised to hear a voice from the end of the hallway. Your chest rose and fell heavily as you stepped closer, realizing that at this hour the only real light was from the moon coming in through the windows. It'd still been early enough that you assumed the others were still out, save for the few boys not chosen for dates today -- but you surely hadn't expected this.

"Fine," you said, straightening your dress. He stalked closer after pushing off the wall, prowling toward you like a serpent in the night. You knew better, and held your ground; though coming up with what to say was a difficult task.

"Just fine?" Garrick asked, his hulking frame coming into view. You pursed your lips, folding your arms as you stared up at him.

"Why so interested?" You questioned, tilting your head at him. "You had so many days you could've talked to me about this... but instead, you chose to completely ignore me."

He shook his head slowly, his tense expression softening an inch.

"I wasn't trying to ignore you," he saiad calmly. You scoffed.

"Well, you did a damn good job of it anyway."

His expression faltered. "What's the big deal, anyway? You went off spending time with other guys, and kissing a few of them too-"

You barked out a laugh, now shaking your head.

"You're wrong," you said simply. "I don't know what other lies Aaric has been spewing, but I can assure you it's not true."

Garrick frowned.

"It's not a lie what I see with my own eyes," he said, his voice lethally low. "That little stunt you pulled, with Ridoc the other night? You did that on purpose -- you did it right in front of me."

Your cheeks pinkened at the reminder.

"You hadn't talked to me for days Garrick," you said, and he loosed a breath through his nose. "We went on a date, I actually kissed you and opened up way more than I'd expected to, only for you to, what, ignore me right after?" You looked up at him incredulously. "What did you expect me to think?"

He groaned, his hands coming to rest on your upper arms. You stilled at the touch, realizing how close he was to you.

"Maybe I just needed a minute to think -- did you consider that?" He growled, backing you up. "Maybe I just needed a minute to reel it all in; my feelings for you, the fact that we had just met, I mean you still have a boyfriend above all things-"

You squeaked as your back pressed against the wall, his nose hovering inches from yours. He paused, his intense stare amplified in the moonlight.

"Your... feelings?" You asked quietly. He swallowed, his gaze fixated on your mouth.

"Yes," was all he said, his torso pressing against you. In that moment, your focus zeroed in on the heat throbbing between your thighs; and the way Garrick's thigh was slotted between them.

"Garrick, I-"

"We can't do this right now," he ground out, working to hold himself back. You drug your bottom lip between your teeth, wishing he'd elaborate.

"Garrick-"

"No," he stood his ground, though his hands moved to pin your wrists above your head. You let out a gasp, reveling in the way his touch set your body alight. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"I can't tell you how much I've been feeling, right after you just came back from a date with someone else."

After the words struck home, it's as though the world stopped spinning. The lights flickered on as voices filled the downstairs foyer, surely belonging to the others arriving home from their dates. You stared up into Garrick's eyes, just position unmoving even as voices and footsteps sounded up the stairs. It was only when the top of Violet's head came into view that he let you go, striding down the hallway without another word.

He left you standing there, alone in the hallway, rethinking everything you'd been through so far -- even your date tonight, which had earlier brought you endless joy.

✧･ﾟ: *

[bravehyde]

Ant Tenna Mike Anatomy: More Than Fan Theory References

~Deltarune Chapters 3+4 Spoilers~

We're taking a sideline from Tenna anatomy to talk about the Mikes, although the things I say in here may be helpful to Tenna artists anyways, so I'll put it under the tag. The Mike boss fight made me freak out over how these lil guys work. I've been going crazy about how these Mikes look and how they're little references to other stuff going on in audio equipment, so I'm going to go over that.

Before that, I'm going to just say one thing. Obviously, I know that the three Mike designs are based off of fan theories. I'm going to go over their possible inspirations in the world of microphones, though. This is really just me having fun with it.

The Names of the Mikes

This is what I found so cool. So, we have Battat, Pluey, and Jongler. Now, say those out loud, paying attention to how each one makes your mouth move. Did you notice something? Each name has incredibly different phonetics, meaning that their sounds and mouth movements vary wildly. They include sounds that you really want to make sure are good when you're doing a mic check. Or maybe, a Mike Check.

When testing sound, one of many things you have to do is to make sure all ranges of words you can say will come through clearly. You may have heard "check check 1 2 3", which is a good way to start but most people don't find it satisfactory and continue to full on sentences. If you have to go quickly, nonsense words with a variety of sounds will work great. AKA, their names. I don't think you need me to go through each name with their noises, but each name covers every type of vowel sound, and has the potential of spanning any pulmonic consonant, depending on your personal accent. I don't think Toby went through the international phonetic alphabet doing this on purpose or anything, but these are excellent names for sound checks and it's crazy.

Battat (Small Mike)

There are two different types of microphones he can be, and both are used primarily by people who need to be recorded saying lines in television. One is the dynamic microphone, and one is a lavalier microphone.

The dynamic microphone is easy to understand. You hold it, you talk into it. That's what he's holding, and it's probably what his head is supposed to be, too. However, I'm sure not everyone want to draw that tedious grid on his head. In that case, I wanted to offer the lavalier as an alternative for his dome.

The lavalier is hidden in someone's clothes, like through a button or under a shirt, and plugs into a pack that the person straps to their belt or in a back pocket to record and get power. These things are like a soft foam because of the windscreen, that black ball there, and don't tell anybody but they're very satisfying to pop in your mouth. So it makes sense, as the supposed "lead" Mike, to be two of the most recognizable microphones for people who work in television. Shows on sets and interviews will use these microphones the most.

Pluey (Cat Mike)

THIS is the one who is the reason why I wanted to make this post. Now. I know that he's a cat because of the theory he would be a cat. But everyone. GUYS. LISTEN. I need everyone to know that there is a piece of audio equipment that is literally called a deadcat.

You put the deadcat over a shotgun/boom mic to help it with wind and excess noise filtration. It makes sound better, basically, and if Pluey here is a deadcat, that makes him ANOTHER very important microphone to the broadcasting world. This thing is key to picking up sound effects and foley. If you're doing anything outside, you want a boom with a deadcat on you.

About his hands: again, very well could be a dynamic microphone, and again, that's a bit hard to draw, no? I wanted to offer another idea I had just in case you didn't want to deal with that grid. A deadcat is a type of windshield, much like what I talked about with lavaliers. When you're working in a studio as an alternative to deadcats, you may use a pop filter over a dynamic or condenser microphone. They're flat, easy to render as far as I can tell, and they match the shape of Pluey's hands, so it isn't a stretch of the imagination to say it could be a pop filter. Or maybe if sphere hands is too weird, pop filter paw pads. Just so you have some options.

Jongler (Motormouth Mike)

This one's a bit tougher since he could be a lot of types of microphones, but technically he's missing something he'd need to be them. He could be a lavalier but they don't have the texture shown when the windscreen is taken off. He could be a ribbon microphone but they have a strip of metal up the sides that he's missing. He could be a shotgun, but they don't have that silvery base. This guy is the sole reason why this post took so long, because he's such a headscratcher. Ultimately, I had to take the boxing gloves as a visual cue and decide to look for what sports commentators would use. I don't think a lot of people know about lip ribbon mics and he's obviously not that anyway, so we'll go with something more common. If he's supposed to be an allusion to boxing matches, they used ribbon microphones, which later got phased out for condenser microphones. It's not a perfect fit with his head so long, so we'll chalk that up to stylisation.

The condenser microphone is best for in a recording booth, and if we choose to believe that's what Jongler's supposed to be, that means we've covered the three biggest areas where someone would need a variety of microphones based on how controlled the environment is. A studio with a condenser is the best you can get, hopefully with lots of foam and someone on the other side of some glass controlling the sound. Then we have lavaliers and dynamic microphones on the set, where some interference could happen but it's minimal. Finally, boom and shotgun microphones are for outdoors and large sources of sound, where you have the least amount of say in what gets picked up so you're kind of hoping for the best. Pretty great variety in microphones if this was intentional, and if not...I just want more people to know that their accidental theory of Mike being a cat led to a really funny audio engineering pun to me and only me.

[citysuk]

when we were young | lh44 & nr6

chapter 3

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!strategist x nico rosberg

summary: "flashbacks when you meet me, your buzz cut and his hair bleached. even in my worst times, you could coul see the best of me. flashback to my mistakes, my rebounds, my earthquakes. even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me."

words: 1171

warnings: love triangle, fluffiness, 3 idiots who don't know how to really talk about their feelings. eventual angst. eventual brocedes conflict.

notes: double update? in this economy? yeah! love these three sm, I can't make you wait long. like and reblogs are very much appreciated 🤍 let me know if you want to be added to the tags!

series masterlist | previous | next | masterlist

Monte Carlo, Monaco — May 2006

You were in the same place as many years before, different time.

And as if you knew this place like the back of your hand, you didn’t need to turn to know who was coming. You’d recognize that laugh anywhere.

"Did you get taller, or is that just the Monaco ego showing?" you teased without looking back.

Lewis grinned as he stepped beside you, helmet under his arm, sweat still drying on his neck from the GP2 practice session. "Definitely taller," he said, flashing that crooked smile. "But yeah... maybe a little ego too. You need it here to survive."

You bumped his shoulder gently, grinning. "GP2 leader suits you."

He chuckled. "Feels weird without you out there, though. Like the grid’s missing something."

"Missing me spinning you off at the start, you mean?"

"Exactly that," Lewis grinned wider. "I miss seeing you in my mirrors."

Before you could reply, another familiar voice chimed in behind. "Still lying to her, Hamilton? Some things never change."

Nico strolled up, shades pushed into his hair, Williams team shirt crisp and clean. He grinned warm and easy, like old times — not the polished F1 rookie the rest of the paddock knew.

"You’re one to talk, Britney," Lewis shot back. "When’s the last time you admitted she beat you fair and square in karting?"

Nico gasped, mock offended. "Never. My pride’s worth more than the truth."

You laughed, shaking your head as they slipped into their usual teasing rhythm — easy, familiar, like nothing important had changed since those karting days. For a moment, standing there under the Monaco sun, it felt just like before. Three kids at the track again.

Lewis leaned against the barrier beside you, looking out over the pit lane. "Crazy, right? All of us here. Monaco. GP2. Formula 1. It’s like everything we used to talk about actually happened."

Nico smirked. "Told you it would."

You smiled, warmth curling in your chest. "It's wild seeing you two doing this for real. Like the world let you in after all that dreaming."

Lewis tilted his head, eyeing you. "Your world too, you know. You didn’t just disappear after karting."

You hesitated for a heartbeat, then grinned, pulse quickening. "Actually... that’s what I wanted to tell you both."

They quieted at once, turning to you.

"I signed with Mercedes," you said, trying to keep the smile from breaking wider. "Starting next season. Strategist."

Silence — and then Nico let out a sharp laugh. "No way. Seriously?"

"Seriously. Vodafone McLaren Mercedes Full contract. Starting 2007."

Lewis whooped, punching the air. "What?! Mate, that’s huge!"

"I know," you grinned, cheeks starting to ache. "I wanted to wait until it was all official before telling you guys."

Nico shook his head, laughing softly. "Unbelievable. From karting to the pit wall. You’re going to be running the show while we sweat out there on track."

"Better you than some suit who’s never smelled burning rubber in their life," Lewis said, eyes bright. "Damn, this is brilliant."

The three of you stood there for a moment, grinning like idiots, the sound of engines in the background, Monaco glittering around you.

"You’re going to kill it," Nico said finally, nudging your shoulder. "Mercedes is lucky to have you."

Lewis bumped your other side, grinning. "Guess that means when I get to F1, you’ll be telling me when to pit."

You laughed — real and full. "You better hope I like you that day." Their laughter joined yours, loud and warm, carrying over the roar of engines below.

For the first time that weekend, the future felt bright — not because of what they were doing, but because you were finally part of it too.

Your hotel room smelled like fresh shower gel and chocolate — the reward for surviving a long, sunny day in Monaco. You flopped backwards onto the bed, arms spread wide, staring at the ceiling with a grin.

"Mercedes. Bloody hell... Mercedes!" you laughed softly to yourself, the words feeling strange and wonderful out loud.

A soft knock came at the door. You frowned, checking the time. Past midnight.

"Room service!" came Lewis’s voice — badly disguised in a terrible French accent.

You groaned but couldn’t help smiling. "Lewis, what the hell—?"

"Open up before Nico finishes everything," he said, dropping the act. "We brought snacks."

Laughing despite yourself, you opened the door. Lewis stood there grinning, arms full of hotel room service plates — fries, tiny sandwiches, chocolate mousse. Nico behind him, holding a bottle of something bubbly from the minibar.

"Late night feast!" Lewis announced grandly.

"Old tradition," Nico smirked, pushing past you into the room. "Like Rye House — but warmer. And with fewer rats."

You rolled your eyes but smiled wide. "You guys are ridiculous."

"You're lucky we love you," Lewis grinned, balancing the trays on your tiny coffee table. "Otherwise you’d be stuck brooding up here on your Mercedes high horse, all alone."

"Brooding? I’m celebrating," you laughed, stealing a fry off the tray. "God, I’m still buzzing from telling you two."

"You should be. Big girl in the big league now," Nico teased, plopping onto the bed and kicking off his shoes.

Lewis sprawled onto the floor with a groan. "I give you six months before you’re running the whole damn team."

"I’ll be gentle when I start bossing you both around," you smirked, grabbing a sandwich.

"That’s what I’m afraid of," Nico muttered with a grin.

For the next hour, the room filled with laughter, crumbs, and old karting jokes. Lewis teased Nico about the time his engine stalled right before a final. Nico reminded you how you broke your own visor during a crash and stomped around like a storm cloud.

Lewis pretended to interview Nico with a butter knife like a Sky Sports reporter.

"So, Rosberg — tell the viewers, how will it feel being lapped by someone who used to glue stickers on her kart next to yours?"

Nico grabbed a fry and pointed it at you. "She’ll be feeding us pit orders while sipping espresso on the wall. But I welcome the challenge of having her on the paddock. Unlike Lewis, who’ll probably be stuck in GP2 forever"

"Oi!" Lewis grinned, throwing a napkin at him.

For the first time in weeks — maybe months — your chest felt light. Like the future wasn’t so heavy after all.

Later, when the food was gone and the minibar empty, they lay sprawled across your tiny hotel bed and floor, yawning, content.

Lewis propped up on one elbow, looking at you, his smile gentle now. "You’re gonna be brilliant next year. Proper brilliant. They’ve no idea how lucky they are."

"Mercedes is lucky," Nico echoed with a tired grin.

Your chest squeezed warm. "I’m lucky," you whispered.

The room fell into a sleepy quiet — three old friends curled around crumbs and memories, the outside world far away.

For one perfect night... it was just the three of you again.

Like karting days. Like always.

[questionablecuttlefish]

Honestly good to know I’m not crazy cause I do think there’s a certain lc erasure lately, it happened on ao3 in the arcane tag, their search word on twt is working weirdly, and ofc some people do not want her mentioned in arcane subs related. Honestly to each their own but I just find so funny how they’re trying so hard to bury lux but I assure u, if a lux show comes around the same people will be flipping sides so quickly (maybe not in the lc ship but yes in the loving lux side).

Plus I think it’s so cool that jinx has so many artists dedicated to her lately but as much as their work it’s beautiful, sometimes l can’t help but think “in what mad world will jinx wear smth like that or act that way” lmao, making her so different of how she is, even though she was so subdued in arcane s2 I think the fans subdued her even more in fandom spaces.

Anyways, this is the whole reason why I think lux is gonna be so popular cause I think fanon jinx rn is actually closer to canon lux.

I left Twitter in November and was never really on Reddit to begin with, and given the way the fandom's gone, I don't regret not being on either.

I do find the sheer balls out insecurity of those we shall not name who are trying so hard to erase Lightcannon and bully LC fans out of the fandom spaces both deeply aggravating and hilarious.

A certain other ship gets, what, the showrunners are fans, the animation studio are fans, there's most of a 40 minute episode dedicated to it, the artbook, a chart-topping song in French with a music video and a cover with Coldplay, they keep getting fed over and over.

And it's not enough, somehow?

Lightcannon hasn't shared a skinline in 10 years - oh wait, we got Lovestruck, yay! - oh wait, it's the comphet valentine's skin boooo - and LC fans sighing at 'airship to Demacia' is just our wishful dreaming. We don't trust Riot will ever give us what we want, why would we? They've burned us over and over again.

And yet some people are so scared of this 'non-canon delusional crack ship' where one partner doesn't even exist in the show and there's no signs she will that they're willing to try to bully its supporters out of existence? Really?

If we're so 'non-canon' why are we such a threat?

Baby shippers who can't share space are honestly not worth my time or energy to argue with.

I will critique another ship to my black heart's content but I'll never tell you you can't ship it. I'll never post negative comments on the work of another ship's artists, writers or cosplayers. I'll defend to the death your right to have your fictional blorbos.

Just don't tell me I can't have mine.

(...and may Great Azatoth help you if you try, because that's not a fight you'll win.)

OP, you're also right about the 'subduing' of Jinx. I'm deeply saddened by the fandom's slow burn domestication of a character who at her heart represents chaos, joyful destruction, rebellion against the rules, and the breakdown of established order.

But sure, let's turn the crazy firebrand into a blue-haired tradwife. That feels kinda political too, NGL, in this current cultural moment, doesn't it?

LC represents the opposite to me. Not because "Lux is crazier" - I don't even subscribe to that trope lol - but because Lux represents acceptance and support to Jinx, but Jinx represents rebellion and freedom to Lux.

Neither forces the other to be something she's not, but both represent an open hand offering something the other character already deeply, deeply desires and needs.

The whole world might be out to get them, but they'll be running hand in hand, and fighting back to back.

The freedom to love who you love and be who you are, no matter who others demand you to be, that's my Lightcannon. 💛💙🏳️‍🌈🦄

[sysmedsaresexist]

No one in this thread understands what dissociation is, and you're ALL part of the goddamn problem

@corditepowder even your tags got hidden, isn't that great?? This is how education and debate works, OP doing a great job out here

No, i don't have you blocked, and I'm going to run through every single problem here

LET'S GO

1. What the fuck is dissociation?

Dissociation is something that everyone on this planet does, children especially. It's the same mechanism that let you play dolls and house as a kid. It's your ability to disappear into a game or book for hours, it's highway hypnosis, it's HEALTHY.

Everyone does it.

When it comes to trauma, dissociation allows us to push down the emotional turmoil surrounding it so that we can continue to function. THIS IS ALSO HEALTHY.

Until it's not. Dissociation can develop into a behavioral addiction, it can become maladaptive, it starts to happen outside of your control and to things you shouldn't be ignoring or pushing away.

In children, it's this same function that allows alters to form. When a child dissociates that hard and for that long, parts can begin to develop within themselves, developing their own likes, dislikes, opinions, etc.

Dissociation is a vast spectrum that only RARELY causes amnesia.

I highly suggest Jamie Marich's book, Dissociation Made Simple. You can find it online.

2. What the fuck is emotional amnesia?

It's a dumb, fancy way of saying dissociation, specifically the disconnect of memories and emotions. It's a horrible term, I hate it, it exists in no clinical texts and has done nothing since it was coined but cause confusion.

Emotional amnesia is the most normal type of dissociation that everyone experiences to some extent. It's just really pathological in CDDs.

3. So what is amnesia?

It's missing/misfiled/rejected/dissociated memories. In CDDs, we're specifically referring to dissociative amnesia.

4. Do endogenic systems dissociate?

Probably, but that's going to be a matter of personal opinion, as well. Colin Ross once said that in order for the mind to talk to itself, and to hear itself talk back, there MUST be dissociation in some form.

This is easier to understand when you actually know what dissociation is.

Disconnect.

5. Is the ToSD just a theory?

No.

That's a link. Click it.

The ToSD is so rock solid that the ICD included it in the DID entry, and it can be seen, IN ACTION, on brain scans.

6. So amnesia creates CDDs?

Fuck no.

Amnesia is a result of the dissociation. The dissociation creates the alters. Though this sounds simple, it adds extreme complexity to the conversation that MATTERS.

Amnesia creating alters is Google Ai making a mistake. I made a post on it.

It's the emotional dissociation that keeps the feelings and trauma between alters, not amnesia. Amnesia may appear, but it's not required.

7. Does DID need amnesia?

ACTUALLY, NO.

It just needs dissociation. It most often comes with memory loss, but not always.

The DSM and ICD are set up differently. The DSM has DID, which requires amnesia at some point over the course of the disorder-- not now, not between everyone, not blackout. You could have amnesia for childhood events only, between some alters and not others, or, shockingly, none at all.

Here comes osdd.

Osdd 1b requires EMOTIONAL amnesia (read: dissociation) ONLY, if you are missing any memories, you have DID

1a will have memory loss

***obligatory, 1a and 1b aren't real diagnoses, and that conversations between patients and therapists may result in different labels

The ICD has DID and P-DID, neither of which require amnesia.

Make sense?

8. Do not EVER refer to DID as an infection again, that is so disrespectful.

Be better.

***for those confused, this was a terrible analogy, not only is it inaccurate because it's based on a faulty understanding of how CDDs work, it's very telling about how OP views trauma and this disorder

9. Level of agency?

It comes from dissociation, not amnesia, this is so stupid.

10. WHAT THE FUCK, "if dissociative barriers had to be there, functional multiplicity wouldn't be a treatment option."

WHAT

IT'S CALLED DISSOCIATIVE IDENTITY DISORDER, NOT AMNESIA DISORDER

It's the dissociative barriers that allow for alters to exist, they HAVE to be there, if you remove the dissociation, fusion happens.

Dissociation allows for parts to gain agency.

Anyways, @corditepowder, hope this helps

I’d consider myself endo neutral so I’m not debating rather than asking you a question which is a lot of the reason I’m not pro endo

So I’m not saying you can’t have a system form through other means or create themselves for the purpose of this question. If we assume you can create a system or have members form endogenically, would they not also form dissociative walls. Or emotional amnesia and stuff as well? Because that’s what in CDDs allows multiple people to exist in one brain in the first place, the emotional amnesia so that you’re able to be in one brain but have different emotions.

A lot of endos say they are not disordered have no amnesia grey outs or emotional amnesia, and if that’s true, how scientifically speaking are they plural? Without emotional amnesia and grey outs and all that where is the separation?

There are some endos who do have emotional amnesia ect and I’m not talking about those

- George

CDD systems are formed from trauma and trauma also causes dissociation, amnesia, etc. The theory of the way CDD systems form is that during childhood, there is so much trauma that the brain must split up into parts to protect itself. The amnesia between parts or alters is necessary to protect the parts/alters from the trauma.

So, for example, Part A is fronting when a traumatic event happens to them. The brain doesn't want the rest of the parts to know that a traumatic event happened to them, so it creates the amnesic barrier between Part A and the rest of the parts. That means that when Part B fronts, they're not 'burdened' with the memories of the trauma that Part A faced and Part B can function relatively well, while Part A may be so overcome by the trauma they can't function well.

If there was no amnesia between parts, the brain's coping mechanism of splitting would be useless as now there would just be many parts that are all traumatised, and the brain doesn't want that. It wants to make sure the trauma is put away where the absolute minimum amount of parts can know about it.

I kind of think of it like an infection, right? The trauma (or memories of the trauma) is the infection and if one part catches it, you want to isolate them to make sure that the rest of the 'population' (system) doesn't catch the same infection. If you just let the 'infected' part roam around, coughing and sneezing all over the rest of the system, then everyone will catch the infection, and that is very very bad because now the entire population is bedridden with illness.

Therapy is kind of like a vaccine, so you can more safely let the population catch the infection but the symptoms can be managed and after all the doses are given, the population may not experience any symptoms at all.

Endogenic systems who don't have any trauma do not have to isolate their infected parts because there are no infected parts. Their population is not at risk of becoming bedridden with illness because there is no illness. Their brain doesn't have to put up protective barriers because there's nothing to protect against.

As for your last point, most endogenic systems (and a lot of CDD systems) consider their headmates as whole separate people, which is how they have different names, ages, genders, emotions, etc etc. I don't think it's the dissociation or amnesia that makes headmates separate people, I believe it's the level of agency one headmate has over another's thoughts. If Headmate A thinks "I like pizza" and Headmate B HATES pizza, Headmate B is obviously not going to think that they thought "I like pizza", they are going to know it was someone else. There doesn't have to be dissociation for multiple streams of thought or multiple consciousnesses to inhabit one body. I referenced this study in my previous post but to keep it short, it's a study done on tulpamancers (who underwent a psychological evaluation and was found to have very little to no signs of having a CDD or having any kind of delusion or psychosis) and evangelical Christians and brain scans revealed that the level of agency of the tulpamancer's thoughts (and evangelical Christians reciting the Lord's prayer) was much, much higher than that of the tulpa's (and evangelical Christians while speaking in tongues). So their brains literally didn't recognise those thoughts as their own, despite there being no dissociation.

I hope this makes a bit of sense!

[egophiliac]

I'm really hoping that after book 7 they release all the overblots as cards. Also if this is the year of Riddle I think they might release the equestrian club finally and I can see him in the new years event since cater and Trey have done It. Which club r u most excited for? I can't wait to see them all.

at this point I, too, cannot wait for my sweet HORSE BOOOOOOOYS

...although I'm also VERY curious as to how 1) they're going to wrangle a super special club uniform out of the board game club, and 2) how they're going to force Idia into wearing it. will there be dice pockets? I hope there are dice pockets.

[babacontainsmultitudes]

RIP Will Campos the only person who was murdered this episode.

[painom]

Hello! Can I just say that I really appreciate you doing this? I've always been a big fan of your analyses and your ability to get to the root of the characters. Thank you for continuing to let us read your wonderful thoughts and stories.

On your old blog, you discussed your headcannons for Lyney, one being his tendency to forget things like where he put his wallet because him and his mind are very busy. Unfortunately, I didn't save the post (my biggest regret ahhhhh!) and I would love to read your analysis once more. If it's okay with you, could you go over your headcannons for Lyney again? The old, the new, whatever's on your mind and whatever you're willing to share. Thank you so much!

Thank you for the kind ask, anon! Here you go!

New Lyney Headcanons

Self-focused - Though he never seems like it, those that know Lyney well know that he’s often running low on sleep. And really, he has no one to blame but himself. During the day he’s often distracted with magic shows, helping people, little tasks around the hotel, running missions for Father, and much more. And at night? He can often be found alone in his room planning new tricks, arranging missions for his siblings, studying to become the next “king” of the House, and things of the sort. If Lynette and Freminet didn’t keep an eye on him, no doubt he would stay up the whole night if given the chance! Those two welcome all the help they can get. 

Relationship-focused - When it comes to his relationship with you, Lyney never lies. You know he would never do that to you. And sometimes, the knowledge almost lulls you into a false sense of security. Yet you know better. You’re smarter than that. Where Lyney doesn’t lie, he omits. Half-truths so easily fall from his mouth as drops of rain from the sky. Your comments of concern are often brushed off and your questions redirected. As much as you try, you know the truth. He doesn’t want you to know. He doesn’t want you to shoulder his burdens with him. 

old lyney headcanons below!

Would Lyney be honest with you?

With his outgoing and fun personality, it oftentimes is easy to get caught within his flow. Lyney is the charming sort, after all, that one may very well forget that he is subject to the same struggles as the rest. Get to know him well enough, though, and you will quickly realize that this is not a fact he wishes others to know. More than a desire, he needs to be seen as someone in control, as someone without weakness. That’s his role as the big brother. And if that means lying, avoiding, and omitting the truth to accomplish it, then an accomplished performer like himself will do what he must. 

Does Lyney prefer to pursue or be pursued?

With a penchant for flair and dramatics, it’s clear to see Lyney prefers to pursue the people he’s interested in. Really, it’s one of the things he goes all out. With a trick up his sleeve, he won’t hesitate to dazzle you with flowers pulled from nowhere and fireworks from his tophat. He wants you to be enchanted. He wants you to be impressed! You are, aren’t you? You like it, don’t you? So focused on charming you that he often loses sight of much else. Fun fact, should you attempt to turn the tables, however, you can expect his mask of self-confidence to fall to reveal a rather flustered expression beneath. 

Headcanons

Self-focused - If there’s one thing that’s true about Lyney, it is that he is a very busy person. As a person with multiple masks and roles, his thoughts are often preoccupied with House missions, performances, new tricks, and things of the like. So, much to the dismay of others, it’s easy for things to become buried under the multitude of other tasks he needs to take care of. How often the simple things become forgotten—where he last left his wallet, tea time with his siblings, the sale on storybooks at the bookstore. During those times, he really can’t help but appreciate his siblings and their ability to keep him on track. Really, he doesn’t know what he’d do without them!

Relationship-focused - It doesn’t hit you at first, but it doesn’t take you very long to notice how hard Lyney tries for your relationship. Normally this would be a good thing, but it is different with Lyney. Every day he tries to charm you. Every day he attempts to enchant you. You tell him he doesn’t need to try so hard, but that only seems to light a fire beneath him to do even more. You see it in his eyes. He needs to know you are still in awe of him, that you like him as much as he does you. And then it sinks in, doesn’t it? He doesn’t trust you. He doesn’t trust your feelings for him. He’ll never show his true face to you.

old tags for this post: #okay let’s talk lyney for a bit i think the biggest thing to know about lyney is that at his core he is an insecure person insecure and anxious #imo he’s extremely attached to his title of ‘big brother’ that he needs to fulfill the duties if such he needs to protect his siblings and be a person others can rely on #this belief is so strong that he refuses to rely on arlecchino for help and snaps at freminet for trying to get him to open up #he really cares about the way he’s perceived #remember when the traveler found out he’s part of the fatui and he spends his time bending over backwards to try to get them to trust him ‘like me! like me! please. i’m trustworthy i’ll never lie to you please!!’ #honestly imo that’s just one if his faults like lyney is unstable #idk what possessed arlecchino to make him her successor like he’d crack under pressure #lynette is a way better option #but anyway bc of these things he would not trust his partner in a relationship #he wouldn’t rely on them he’d never feel secure which would prompt him to keep trying too hard to ensure he’s still the person he thinks you fell in love with #the most important thing to remember with lyney is that he is a performer and the face he shows to the world is essentially a mask

What’s Lyney’s breaking point in a relationship?

It’s hard to imagine, really. With how much Lyney may seem in love, the idea there’s a point a relationship would be too much for him is hard to believe. But when you really think about it, his breaking point is simple. As strong as his feelings may be for you, his devotion to his family and its cause outweighs everything else. Should your relationship with him ever reach a time where it encroaches upon that which is the most precious to him, then there’s nothing more he can do than let you go.

old tags for this post: #i think the key thing to take in here is that lyney cannot function without his family he is extremely reliant upon them to the extent that he will become unstable without them #just look at the archon quest when wriothesley captured his siblings any and all logic completely went out the window #lyney is an anxious insecure mess and the only thing that holds him together is playing the role he has to as big brother #if your relationship with him ever reaches the point that you transcend into being counted as his family.... he will have no breaking point #the breaking point will be his mind or body. whichever breaks first

[silversinfinity]

Cabin Fever

*this is a fetish blog- non-fet blogs and minors DNI (no age in bio -> blocked)*

Fandom: L/ove and D/eepspace Spoilers: None Pairing/AU: Z/ayne X f!Reader, normal universe Length: 5.4k

Contains: sneeze fetish content (duh), sickfic, fevers, caretaking, that trope where a character’s powers act up because they’re sick, reader insert

Summary: L/ove and D/eepspace's "Winter's Emissaries" summer event, wherein everything is the same, except I made it better gave Z/ayne a cold.

Notes: Backstory time! This game had an event last summer that included four different virtual roleplaying games to complete (one for each guy). In the one featuring Z/ayne, you play as “Winter’s Emissaries” searching for treasure to save a village. While playing through these, you also receive special social media interactions, one of them being this one from Z/ayne. I think my inspiration should speak for itself… 🥴

I wanted this to feel like it could seamlessly fit into the original canon plot, so a few lines of dialogue and description were adapted directly from the game. There's also gonna be casual mentions of things which might go over your head if you haven't played, but it shouldn't ruin the fic reading experience!

Okay, enough yapping. Enjoy 🫶

Fic Masterlist

Your reflection was barely visible in the glass as you stared out the window. Snow swirled in a gray and white cacophony, past the glass pane and all across the region as far as you could see. The conditions seemed more treacherous now that you had escaped them, free to observe rather than experience it. 

You'd experienced it enough today, anyways. Your face still stung of whipping, icy winds, and your hair dripped as clumps of ice and snow melted off your head. Every part of you felt chilled- your fingers, your toes, hell, your very soul. This little cabin was truly the desert oasis of the frigid mountain forests. There was no way either of you could've survived a night out there. 

To your right and behind you, a stunted rush of flames brought the fireplace to life. Your hand curled over your chest, relieved. There was never a situation where you weren't grateful to have Zayne around, but this one especially so. His simple presence was enough to flip an unfortunate situation into a favorable one, or at the very least, an okay one. This would be okay.

Another bundle of snowflakes rushed past the window as a new gust of wind took to the air with violence. You leaned into the knotted pine of the window sill and walls, pressing one ear to the glass.

Your brow furrowed. Only the crackling of the fireplace registered to your senses. Not even a muffled echo of the blizzard’s roar could be detected through the glass. Was the soundproofing of this cabin really that thorough?

Zayne’s hand on your shoulder shook the question out of your mind. “You shouldn't stand so close to the glass. A blizzard can break the window.” His voice was calm. “Come sit by the fireplace. It'll warm you up.”

You stood back from the glass, and one of Zayne’s hands caressed your cheek, palm hot against the chapped skin of your face. You found him in a similar state, skin flushed and wind-broken around and across his nose.

Zayne led you to the fireplace with a hand to your back. Heat instantly washed over you, and you tugged off the heavy coat that still clung to your shoulders. 

“You say I need to warm up, but you're the one who gave up your coat,” you said, hanging it on the hook off to the side of the hearth. He'd insisted you take it, once you realized the hard way that your own coat was highly insufficient for the weather.

“You're right. Come sit.” Zayne had seated himself in a wicker chair a few feet back from the fire’s glow. You paused to consider whether there was enough room to join him. If you were expected to fit next to him, you’d practically need to be sitting in his lap.

…Not that you minded. You never minded that.

As anticipated, you found yourself crunching your knees up to settle yourself next to him. You were squished against him, legs to legs, warm body to warm body.

It occurred to you, though, that there was plenty of sitting space throughout the cabin suitable for two people, much unlike the chair you had just forced your way into. You looked at Zayne and smirked. “I get it. You're using the fireplace as an excuse to cuddle, aren't you?” 

Zayne tilted his head and met your gaze. His lip curled so subtly you had to squint to see it: “Well, if you knew that was my goal, why did you still join me?” 

You nearly got lost in his eyes, aglow with a sunset orange reflection of the flames. “Because… I may or may not have the same goal,” you finally admitted, nestling the rest of your body to Zayne’s. Your head settled perfectly against his chest, like a puzzle piece to its match.

“I'm honored to be your personal heater after serving as your navigator.” 

A comfortable silence followed Zayne’s words. Your attention honed in on the crackling of the fireplace, the flames within wiggling their unsteady dance and casting a faint, smoky scent into the air. You inhaled deeper, chasing the nostalgic memories of summer bonfires lingering behind. The air was dry, but warm enough now that you didn’t feel moisture chasing every breath in through your nose. But the same couldn’t be said yet for Zayne, based on the still frequent sniffling above you. It really was dreadful out there…

The whole reason for your journey here slowly crept back into your mind. Today the blizzard would keep you both within the safety and warmth of this cabin, but you knew there was still a long journey in the cold ahead of you. As Winters Emissaries, it was your duty to complete the task given to you. The whole of a village was counting on it. 

As to what it was though, you still weren't completely sure.

“Hey… do you think the treasure the villagers mentioned is something like this?” 

You felt Zayne move above you at the sudden sound of your voice. He pondered your question. “A treasure that brings warmth in winter… the concept is similar enough,” he eventually said. 

“But visiting the palace just to get firewood for them would be pointless. They could just go into the forest themselves, couldn't they?”

“Perhaps the treasure is a self-heating energy stone. Winters Emissaries are like torchbearers. They've been entrusted with the responsibility of bringing energy to the village.”

An image of yourself and Zayne wearing special ceremonial attire during an Olympic opening ceremony, sacred torch and all, flashed in your mind. It was far more flashy and loud than your actual reality, traveling alone together in the winter wilderness of the mountains as the elements assaulted you. “Zayne, your imagination got a little wild there,” you giggled. 

“Oh? Then what sort of fantasy would you prefer to listen to?” Zayne sniffled again. Outside, the world had begun to turn dark.

“Something real, maybe.” Your eyes searched the space above the fireplace, as if the answer would appear there for you. “Hmm… talk about your childhood memories. When we were kids, wasn't there a time a snowstorm trapped you at my house?”

Long was the history between the two of you. You spent your childhood together, grew up together, and now Zayne was a unique combo of your primary doctor, lover,  and a formidable fighter you could rely on in any Wanderer encounter. 

So, you were a little hopeful Zayne would still remember your early days, after everything you'd been through. 

Zayne’s hand fidgeted at the small of your back. “...I remember that,” he finally began. “My parents and I went to your place for dinner. And then it suddenly started snowing. It was getting late, and we tried to head home but the car wouldn't start. We had no choice but to spend the night there.” Zayne paused, swallowed, and cleared his throat. His voice was noticeably rougher when he spoke again though, as if he hadn't cleared anything at all, “But you had already returned to your room. We had barely talked that day…”

There was a tremble you noticed in his voice too, as though the memories themselves manifested within the language he spoke. He wasn't always the most straight forward with his sentimentality of your shared youth, but there were always signs he cherished them the same way you did.

Yet you always felt strange, separated from yourself whenever you reflected on it, everything being the same and yet so different from what you had with him today. As children, could Zayne and I have ever imagined ourselves nestled by the fireplace one day, enjoying idle conversation?

“Maybe it's because I went to bed too early that day. If only I had known…”

You waited for Zayne to respond, or continue, but it never came. His breathing steadied and slowed above you, and you craned your neck to look up at him. 

His eyes were closed, long, dark lashes completely still. No surprise sleep took him so quickly; for as often as he would lecture you about getting enough sleep, you knew his line of work didn't allow him to rest as well as he'd like. He was known for taking any time he could between surgeries to nap. This quiet time in a cabin was the perfect environment for Zayne to take advantage of.

You were careful not to disturb him as you settled your head back where it was most comfortable. The warmth you shared between your bodies had only grown, stealing away any drive you had left to stay awake. The fireplace became a blur as your eyelids drooped.

Against your ear though, you were still awake enough to notice the slight wheeze in his breathing. And from his nose, the tiniest whistle when he exhaled. Both were not typical for him, in all the times you had rested together.

Mentally, you winced, remembering the pity taken on your poor choice of winter wear once the blizzard hit. Zayne assured you he still had enough layers on, and initially you believed him. 

Now though, you realized he would've told you that anyways. Of course he would've; he was prone to worrying more about you than himself. 

You wondered if this wasn't normal tired for him, but sick tired. Had he been hiding it from you? Or was it too early for him to even realize?

You were only barely awake yourself anymore, unable to think clearly. “Zayne?” you murmured, quiet, still hesitant to wake him. You heard nothing back, and then you heard nothing at all, as sleep stole you away too. 

—

You woke up suddenly, somewhere soft, warm. Pillow under your head, and layers of blankets draped over you. Sluggishly, you picked up your head. The grey light of morning seeped through the windows, pale and too early to be awake. You squinted to make out flecks of snow billowing past the window, just as energetically as the day previous. 

This wasn't where you had fallen asleep. So how did you…? 

Oh, right.

Somewhere in the night, you vaguely remembered being lifted and held to Zayne’s chest before he settled you somewhere else- it was in this bed, you now knew. You stretched and whined beneath the blankets before rolling over. Next to you, the comforter was pulled back and the fitted sheet wrinkled, implying Zayne had slept there next to you. The bed suddenly felt cold.

As you sat up, you frowned. Something had woken you, but what? It was quiet in the cabin. “Zayne…?” you called out groggily.

“heh’tSCHh-!”

Oh.

“hegH’SCHUhh-!”

Sneezing. Zayne sneezing, to be exact. Muffled and echoey beyond the half wall immediately behind you, you concluded he was too far away to have heard you, in another room of the cabin. 

You heard him sneeze again, after a longer delay. You internally winced as you had the night before. For all the time you'd known Zayne, you'd never heard such frequent disruptions, except for when an outside factor- such as illness- was actively aggravating him.

The urge to investigate dragged you out of bed. Your ears pointed you towards the bathroom across the way. As you got closer though, you stopped. The sound of rushing water could be heard, loud and clear with the door of the bathroom wide open. Your approach to the door was a little more hesitant- was he showering this early in the morning?

Beyond the steam cloaking the room, you found Zayne not in the shower, but hovering just to the side of the sink. His hair was slightly disheveled from its usual neatness, and damp, implying he'd been standing in there for some time. Even from where you stood in the doorway, his body language read of discomfort.

Though you stepped lightly, your bare feet weren't quiet enough to avoid alerting him. Zayne turned to look your way. His posture instantly straightened, but it didn't hold, wavering in tune with his breath. 

“Y-Y/N, hih…! hH’gnx’SCHhh-!” He notably pressed into his wrist, cutting the volume. That wrist flipped, and his fingers clamped over his nose, pinching tightly over the bridge in a fashion you'd seen before, when he was either annoyed or- “heh-NGTt-uh!” -suppressing a sneeze. 

“Bless you… thanks for the wake up call.” You couldn't help yourself from teasing him.

“Did I wake you?” He paused to sniffle, thick, unproductive. “I tried to be quiet getting out of bed, but I suppose that didn't last…” Zayne’s voice cracked and he coughed, hoarse. 

Concerned, you stepped into the bathroom, closing the space between you. “What's with the shower?” you said. 

“Clearing out my sinuses. You can turn it off.” The steam in the room was pleasantly warm, but the humidity was a little much, you thought. You shut the water off.

“Did it help?” you asked. 

“Well, it made me sneeze through the worst of it.” With the water off, you can hear congestion in his voice more clearly, and you shuddered to think this was an improvement from when he'd first awoke. His illness had set in, and it had done so quicker than you thought possible. Zayne took one step back from the counter, touching one temple and wincing. You saw him sway.

Your brow furrowed. One of your hands drew up to his forehead before Zayne had the chance to stop you. Your fingers brushed his bangs aside with a gentle sweep, and the pads of your fingers ghosted heat, searing his skin deeper than any steam could create on the surface. 

“You have a fever…” Zayne swatted you away, but you grabbed at his wrist in rebellion. Instantly, you gasped and froze in place. Under your palm and fingers was an icy cold, etched across his skin and leaving purple welts in his wake- it could only have originated from his abilities. “Your Evol, why…?”

In one quick move, Zayne shook his head at you, tugged his freezing wrist from your grasp, and twisted away with a wrenching sneeze. 

“hegH’NSCHhih-! Hh…” The exhale carried exhaustion. You allowed him the space to recover but refused him another inch beyond that. As you examined him closer, you realized that white, crackling frost glazed not just his wrist, but his neck too. 

“Are you…okay? Why is your Evol doing that?” you asked.

But Zayne couldn’t seem to catch a break. “I'm f-fine…hih…!” His denial was drowned out in a shuddering hitch of breath. He managed to retrieve a bunched up wash cloth from the counter, just in time to jam it under his nose before he-

“hih’MPFSChh-!”

Punctual.

“Bless you,” you said, wincing. “Uh, you were saying? About being fine?”

He was even slower to recover, as though the very last of his energy had seeped out through his sinuses, dampening the already soiled cloth in his hand. “I'm not denying that. Obviously I'm not well.” Zayne slid past you to leave the bathroom, and you followed nervously behind him to where he dropped down on the couch. He barely seemed to be present, tilting his head back, eyes closed. The dark shadows under his eyes told you he hadn’t slept much. “I just meant… the ice. I'm fine, this always happens when I'm unwell.” 

From where you sat next to him, you took the chance to touch his forehead again, and Zayne didn't protest this time. It was worse than you initially thought. “You're really hot, Zayne…”

One eye opened. “Flirting with me while I'm sick?”

“Hey, you know what I mean…” You smiled and felt at ease- at least he wasn't so ill that mirth failed him. 

It couldn't cure all your worries, though. Your touch trailed down his cheek, to his jawline, and then his neck. It was there that the temperature under your fingers went shockingly cold, as though he'd just been outside in the winter elements without a scarf. Zayne’s brow knitted at your touch, and he shivered. 

“You're freezing,” you commented. It wasn't a question, but Zayne nodded anyway. “Let me warm you up, then.” This too, wasn't a question of permission, but rather a warning that you would try regardless.

Again though, Zayne nodded. Even a doctor as work-driven as he was knew when it was time for someone else to do the caring.

You looked first to the fireplace across from the couch, in front of the chair where you had both dozed off last night. The flames weren't flames but small, smoldering ashes- certainly of no substance to subdue a fever and keep the chill of winter out. 

You tossed another couple logs on and allowed a moment for the fire to catch.

Then, back on the couch, you adjusted your knees under you. “Here, let me squeeze in.” You sidled close to Zayne’s spot on the sectional. He hesitantly straightened his legs, allowing you space between him and the back cushion of the couch.

“It'll get nice and warm here soon,” you assured. Zayne hummed, glassy, hazel eyes fixed to the ceiling above. Your attention drew back to his Evol, still vicious and frosty at his wrists and throat. The warmth of the fire couldn't sedate this- this cold came from within, and the longer you lingered on it, the more uncomfortable it looked. You feared self-inflicted frostbite was in his near future.

“Do you think you might be overdoing it? Your Evol, I mean.”

“It's…” Zayne paused, shivering violently as though simply acknowledging the sensation made it worse. You swore you saw vapor as he exhaled, as if the air of winter itself were contained around his head in a bubble. “It's against my will, mostly…”

His discomfort was nearly palpable to you as you realized this was completely out of his control. This was the same cold extreme enough for Zayne to use in combat, after all, and now it was acting of its own accord, attacking him. 

“Think of it as a flight or fight response,” Zayne went on. “My temperature is up, therefore my body is responding by trying to cool down.”

“It's just too much, isn't it?” you said, finishing his thought for him. Zayne nodded, casting his gaze towards you. He'd never looked so openly vulnerable underneath you, except in distant memories, and you felt your heart soften despite the circumstances. 

You laid your weight heavier into him, shuffling so that one leg intertwined between his own. He caught your eye when he moved his hands out of your way. 

Maybe… if you resonated with him…?

You reached for one hand. “Here, let me just…”

Zayne shrunk away though, tucking his arms to his sides. “No, you shouldn't…touch me when I'm like this. Not on my skin.” Worry, genuine worry flickered in his eyes, and you felt that soft glow in your chest trip and falter.

“Zayne…” Your hands remained hovered at his wrist. Begging him with your eyes. He tensed, but he didn't stop you from closing your touch over his wrist. His skin was frigid, burning against your warmer palms, but only that. “You won't hurt me. I promise.”

You seemed to get through to him, and Zayne found it in himself to relax, finally. Your squeeze over his wrist was firm, but gentle, wringing your grip back and forth. You slowed your breathing and sought his Evol’s frequency, and it met you with a chaotic and unusual rhythm. A warm light glowed from your palms. In a matter of seconds, his skin took the warmth of yours.

“Better?” You asked. 

Zayne nodded, brow raised just slightly as though he didn't expect this outcome. You weren't sure you had expected it to work either. Discomfort crept back into his features, and he breathed through clenched teeth- you healed his other wrist with more urgency.

Briefly, you chewed the inside of your cheek. You couldn't deny that you found it all alarming, try as Zayne might to act casual about the whole thing. The nature of Evol was different person to person, but was it really okay for it to attack its user? Even under circumstances of illness? What if there was more to this?

…No, no. You had to shake this out of your head, stick to the task at hand. Interrogating him in the midst of being miserable wasn't good for either of you.

You forced the frown out of your expression, before Zayne could read it and interrogate you instead. “Your hands look better,” you said. “Is it just your shoulders now?”

“Yes. I think.”

“Get comfortable, then.” Both having lost their icy touch, he tucked his hands under you, and you properly draped yourself over him like a weighted blanket. Zayne tilted his head up to accept your arms wrapping over the back of his freezing neck.

You suppressed a shiver of your own as you nuzzled your cheek into the crook of one shoulder, the cold seeping into you through his shirt. Then, you remained still, focusing to match the frequency of his powers again, further resonating. Any remaining anxiety drained out of you. Maybe you couldn't cure his cold completely, but a small win was still a win in the war against misery.

Zayne sighed above you in relief. ”hh…hih…!” And then in urgency. He fidgeted under you, prompting you to lift your head.

You were greeted with the sight of a man most definitely about to sneeze.

And it had you a little mesmerized, to say the least- the stoic type, you rarely ever witnessed his face so obviously contorted. Somehow, Zayne always maintained a calm and collected demeanor, even when he was feeling anything but. This expression he currently wore though, was scrunched up, needy. His brow pinched together, eyelids taught. And the pink rims of his nostrils ticklishly flared, lip curled back into a snarl.

“Y-Y/N, my…hands…!” His breathy voice barely hung above a whisper.

You didn't get the memo- at least not fast enough. His hands remained trapped under you, and with nowhere else to hide, Zayne twisted toward the couch cushion, squelching the sneeze into submission by willpower alone.

Willpower didn't carry him very far, however. “hH’NXTt’shih-!” The burst of moisture that broke through was audible. Zayne’s chest swelled under you to gear up for a second one, and you braced a little tighter around his neck- “hegH’SCHUhh-!” The force his sneezes wrought nearly folded him at the waist, even with your full weight on top of him.

Zayne stilled after that. You were more timid as you looked back up to him. “Bless you. You shouldn't fight it like that…” you said softly.

“You shouldn't keep my hands trapped, then,” Zayne shot back.

You shrugged, although you did shift your hips up to free one of his arms. Zayne took to knuckling under his nose, before carefully dabbing at any excess dampness with the edge of his sleeve. 

“Really though, don't worry about politeness,” you went on. Your expression turned downcast. “You're sick because of me, after all.”

Several seconds passed as Zayne processed your words. Then, he gave you a look, the one he always had when you said something silly.  “You know people don't get sick just from being out in the cold, right?” 

“Says who?”

“Y/N, I'm a doctor. Your doctor,” Zayne deadpanned. 

You couldn't hide your grin. “Okay, but consider this: I saw it happen in a movie. A lot of movies, actually.”

Zayne shook his head. A yawn crept into his voice, and his eyes closed. “Right. Next time I need continuing education credits, I'll just watch some movies instead.”

“You better invite me over for a movie date night then!”

“But of course.” You held him a little tighter. The corner of Zayne’s mouth tugged into a smile. “Y/N… you really never grew up,” he said. 

“Oh?” You tilted your head at him. 

“You're just as unserious as you were when we were young,” Zayne went on. “More than when we were young, actually.”

To that, you stuck your tongue out. “Coming from the most serious guy I know? You should try it sometime.” 

Zayne opened his eyes, and there was That Look again, the Y/N-Said-Something-Ridiculous Look. For a moment, it even seemed like the feverish haze had left his eyes. But it only lasted a second, and the sorry state of him continued to be evident.

Your eyes shifted down to his throat. The skin looked healthy now, as though it had never been coated in a deadly ice. “So is this whole, uh, Evol thing gone now?” you asked awkwardly.

“For now. I imagine it’ll stay away now, so long as you're here.” 

A complicated knot of feelings sat in your chest, out of nowhere. For all the times Zayne had gone out of his way to protect you, save you, cure you, rarely could you return the favor. And it was a regular experience- you were good at getting yourself into trouble, after all.

But now, here you were, in a position where he needed you. 

“Good,” was all you could muster in response. 

Your hands snaked out from behind his head where they found his face. Cupping his cheeks, your fingers brushed over all the contours you now knew deeply, intimately. You let your eyes drift thoughtfully over his lips, threatening your resolve. 

Clearly you had grown up in some way- the idea of kissing Zayne would've been strange and wrong in your youth, but now you found yourself fighting with your better judgment not to. You could already hear him quietly scold you for kissing him while he was sick.

Only then did you realize Zayne was looking at you. You found yourself instantly shy under his scrutiny- for all the times you had kissed him, gone on dates, fully gave yourself to him, he still managed to make you nervous. 

Just as the tension of your eye contact threatened to become too heavy, Zayne sighed and melted a little deeper into the couch. You shook yourself back into a caretaker mindset. 

“Are you warm enough?” Zayne hummed his confirmation. “Okay… can I get you anything? Fever reducers, maybe?”

You sat up, preparing to get up from the couch, but Zayne’s hands held your waist firmly. “I already took some. Why don't you just rest here with me?” His words caught and he coughed into his shoulder.  

Zayne’s voice was growing ragged, even for how softly he spoke. You made a mental note to raid the cabinets for tea later, whenever he was ready to accept it. 

For now though, resting with him would be an easy task. The light filtering through the snow plastered windows was still too dim and early for your liking. And with the most concerning of Zayne’s symptoms relieved, you were content to relax a little. Your breathing synced with the slowed pace of his, calm.

For all the symptoms that had been relieved though, there was always another waiting to rear its head and break the moment.

Zayne suddenly stirred under you. He stiffly exhaled. “Actually, Y/N…” Zayne sniffled, and then sniffled again, sharply squeaking within his swollen sinuses. “Maybe…you should, hih…!”  You sat up in time to see the twinge in his expression take hold, uncertain, a will-he or won't-he battle. The fluttering of his eyes and twitch of his nares tells you he definitely will, though Zayne seemed intent on holding back. The rest of his words tumbled out in a rush, “...should get me some tih-! tissues, hH-!”

His arm tensed over your back, and he swung up with the intent to cover above you. You moved quicker though, tucking his face against your shoulder. Another gasp shook him beneath you, fluttering against your skin. You only held him tighter.

“heH’MFSCHHeh-!” Throaty and violent, the sound was squashed into your shirt. It was a warm and damp rush in the fabric, and Zayne jostled you as his nose betrayed him a second time. “hH-! ‘ESCHh’uh-!”

Several peaceful seconds came and went. You propped yourself up and met his gaze sheepishly, exposing the damp spot that now soiled your shirt. Zayne’s face was hard to read, but his ears were noticeably pink. “You know, when people ask for tissues, they don’t usually mean someone else’s shirt,” he mumbled.

“I- wasn’t thinking, I guess…” you said. One hand lazily traced along the curved top of his ear. “You don't need to be so embarrassed.”

“I have a fever, remember?” Zayne retorted, so casually that you almost couldn’t detect it as an excuse- almost. He sniffled again, wet and productive. “Listen, I could still really use those tissues… unless you’re expecting me to use your shirt for that too.” His eyes shifted away from you.

The heat on his face seemed to possess your own cheeks, as it occurred to you just how compromised he was under you. Completely at your will, or at least as completely as he would allow, and so far it seemed to be a lot. Your mind threatened to drift to places far from innocent. 

“No, not unless you- asked to, I mean…! N-not at all.” Your words tripped over themselves as your tongue knotted itself with your inner desires. You shimmied back to the other end of the couch, part in preparation to get up, but mostly to hide yourself from Zayne’s intelligent gaze. He could always read right through you.

You managed to pull yourself together while fetching a tissue box from the bathroom. And a glass of water- you were sure he needed it.

You stopped in your tracks exiting the bathroom. Zayne still laid on the couch, eyes closed, somehow serene despite  being in the throes of a bad cold. 

Cute.

He stirred once you approached close enough to be heard. “Here,” you said, passing the box of tissues to him.

“A whole box? How generous,” he playfully remarked. Zayne plucked a tissue from the box, and then another. You looked down at the glass of water still in your hands, for whatever shred of privacy it would offer him as he loudly blew his nose. Soiled, he tossed the tissues into the wastebasket nearby. At this rate, and with the way that had sounded, you had a feeling that the bin would be full of them by the end of the day.

“Thanks,” Zayne said in a thick voice as he took the water from you next. He made quick work of it, and you mentally patted yourself on the back for thinking of his needs before he had even voiced them. 

You checked that the fireplace was still lively, and then you turned back to Zayne where you stood before him.

“Can I get you something else?”

Zayne looked at you with warm eyes. “I don't know… I’d just really like my blanket back.” You frowned, only to falter when Zayne winked at you. Duh.

You needed no other prompting to crawl back into your original position, settling yourself over Zayne like a large lap cat, or a blanket, as he had put it. A new sense of ease washed over the two of you. 

You turned your head where it was more comfortable on its side. Snow still billowed past outside, and you found yourself reflecting again on why you were both here. Although there would be much to do later today, or more likely tomorrow, when the snow had slowed, you could both have this moment. You didn't get to lay and nap together at home nearly as often as either of you liked, but right now, you were free to indulge in it. 

You had each other's comfort. And you had each other's warmth.

“Ya know, maybe what you said yesterday was right,” you suddenly spoke.

“Hm?” Zayne opened one eye, brow raised.

“About the treasure being something warm within winter, or however you put it.” Your limbs twitched, and you curled a little tighter into Zayne. “Maybe it's cheesy, but I feel like we have our own little treasure here, ya know?”

Zayne exhaled a laugh, but it was genuine. “Perhaps you're right.” He closed his eyes, and through a yawn, “We had to find our own little treasure before we could find one for the whole village.”

“Exactly.” You smiled, closing your own eyes. Your ears zoned in on the cracking and popping of the fireplace, coupled with Zayne’s soft breathing. 

Flashbacks of the cozy night prior crept into your mind. “Can you tell me the rest of that story from last night?” Your words were slurred by almost-sleep. Zayne only responded with a soft snore. 

Ah well, you thought. Another day, then; this treasure was treasure enough. 

[emberglowfox]

closing time

[rorydrawsandwrites]

FANFIC TIIIME

I've only read a few sentences yet and I'm already hyped!! Rambling in the tags below (part 1)

[lunarharp]

fwee top 5 things i had fun with this year :-)