#foolishly-im-falling

[its-short-for-jackalope]

burning yourself is like ow ow. owowow. ..oh I'm fine. and then INTENSE PAIN for like 5 minutes straight an hour later. then oh I'm fine. ...OW.

and it just keeps going!! what the fuck, man

[tyunni]

┈➤ I LIKE YOU SO MUCH!!! (when ENHYPEN like you...)

enhypen masterlist | library

genre: fluff, fluff, fluff! warnings: i'm not sure if any specific gender is mentioned but keep in mind i do tend to usually write fem!reader, enha r kinda losers, mentions of being drunk in jakes part, isnt proofread so if you see any mistakes.... oh well! wc: 2.6k+

a/n: good lord, i haven't written anything in MONTHS so i'm a bit rusty 😭 i started writing maknae line first im p sure you can tell i put more effort in them and then i started getting tired, sorry😭😭😭

☆ — LEE HEESEUNG

who would've thought the cool, the chill, the awesome lee heeseung would end up being such a loser. a lovestruck, foolishly in love loser.

your fingers lightly grazed his hand when you walked past him in the hallway today, a touch that lasted a mere second, yet heeseung's heart exploded, and so did his friends' group chat when he boasted about your interaction like you had just asked his hand in marriage. he knows being lovesick is lame, but so what?! he can't help that he melts into a pink puddle of adoration whenever you make small talk, or when he closes his eyes an image of you pops into his head and makes his palms feel sweaty. yes, he feels his knees go weak at the mere mention of your name, and he's willing to endure his younger friends teasing him every time they spot you hanging out with your own group of friends.

so what if you're the only thing on his mind every second of his day. it's completely normal to make playlists for your crush, giggle, and roll around in your bed when you let the lyrics sink in and fill your head with the thoughts of the one you desire.

it's also totally normal of him to write down little compliments on a piece of paper and put them on your desk when you're not looking. he giggles like a little girl when you open the note and read not even a third fraction of what heeseung truly thinks of you and wishes to tell you one day. his smile grows wider when you finally read the initials written on the note, LHS, and you look over to his desk with your cheeks dusted pink, widened eyes looking into heeseung's.

(rest of the members under the cut!!)

☆ — PARK JONGSEONG

jay is very fond of you, he accepted that quite quickly. you're cute. he likes cute stuff, that's something new he has discovered since he started to fancy you.

"jay, are you serious?" - riki turned towards the older with a blank face, tired of his friends new shopping addiction, - "you have like 4 hello kitty stuffed toys in your bedroom, you don't need another one."

ah, innocent, naive riki. he doesn't know having a crush makes one forget about any form of rationality and make every decision without giving it another thought. jay is the number one victim of the 'everything reminds me of them' disease, he feels every wrinkle of his brain smoothen whenever he thinks of you, so it's not a surprise that he can't control his hand as he swipes his credit card and buys himself another plushie with a lovestruck grin on his face.

"are you even listening to me?" - the younger complains, jabbing jay's arm with his elbow to get at least a little reaction out of him. if anything else but you were on jay's mind this would've worked and he would've scolded riki by now, talking his ear off about how annoying he is, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes at his childishness. but it doesn't work.

"you're such a cheeseball, y/n has made you soft, jay, she's ruining you!"

but riki's words fall on deaf ears the second jay's eyes land on another cute stuffed animal that had reminded him of you as he grabs his friend's arm roughly and drags him into yet another store.

☆ — SIM JAEYUN

oh, he's down bad. jake would do anything for you. yes, even walking all the way from his house to the party you were at just to pick you up and walk you home, making sure you reach your house safely.

you called him in the middle of the night, the buzzing of his phone waking jake up. he groaned at the brightness of his screen flashing his newly opened eyes, yet at the sight of your name he rubbed the sleepiness off them, quickly picking up your call.

"jake, i'm drunk!"

and that's all it took for him to jump out of his bed and run towards his destination. surely enough you were waiting outside for him, a big smile growing on your face at the sight of him.

sure, he was extremely tired and out of breath, his voice was still groggy from waking up around 10 minutes ago, the cold, chilly night yet to have its effect on him and wake him up completely, yet he still let you ride on his back when you started complaining about how your heels hurt your feet.

you had been talking to him about something, even though you had no idea what you were saying with the way your words were slurred, your voice muffled by his jacket. jake was nodding his head, humming after a few sentences to make sure you knew he was listening, even though he didn't know what he was listening to. you started off by talking about the party, and somewhere along the way you got lost in your own words and so did jake. his soft hums and the steady rhythm of his feet lulled you to sleep, and when he felt your eyelashes close against the nape of his neck, your breath falling onto his skin as your cheek rested further upon his shoulder is when he finally let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, stopping in his tracks to close his eyes and think to himself:

"fuck, i love her, don't i?"

☆ — PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon is desperately in love with you. he can't help it, butterflies swarm his stomach when he thinks about you, a sheepish grin makes its way onto his features when you talk to him, his eyes dart across your face every chance he gets so he can burn every second spent with you right into his memory.

"sunghoon, do you think this looks good or should i try on the blue sweater?"

to be completely honest, even if you wore a trash bag he'd think you looked gorgeous, and he hadn't been paying attention to any outfit you had shown him so far, your smile which grew wider with each compliment he gave you the only thing on his mind.

"you look beautiful, y/n."

"oh, come on, sunghoon! you've been telling me this about every outfit!" - you groan, yet a grin is still plastered on your face at his sweet words, "you have to help me!"

sunghoon tries, he really tries to hold himself back. his teeth sink into his tongue in hopes of biting back the words that were about to slip out, yet they still do. and so does his little secret.

"it's not my fault i'm in love with you!"

☆ — KIM SUNOO

sunoo is a sweet guy. everyone likes him: the teachers, the students, his friends, and complete strangers. his smile is contagious, his face is soft and beautiful, his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, and he's kind, helpful, friendly. who wouldn't like him? well, you, apparently.

it's not that he's intrigued by your cold attitude towards him, he's simply determined to make you like him just like everyone else. it's quite difficult to get to know you though, you don't speak to anyone except a select few. if your friends don't come to school you usually sit alone, either mindlessly scribbling in your notebook, or sleeping. you always have that look on your face. one of pure boredom, uninterest, that "why are you even talking to me" face.

sunoo thinks it's stupid. how could you not be thrilled to talk to the people around you? how is it even possible to not want to get to know everyone, to grow your circle, have new people to talk to and share experiences with.

you know who sunoo is. everyone knows who sunoo is. when he walks past you down the hallway he's always waving at someone, stopping in his tracks a few times to have a little small talk, then quickly picking up his pace once the bell rings so he gets to make it in time for class. it doesn't matter if he's late though, the teachers adore him like he's their own son, and he hasn't gotten a single second of detention. sunoo has the sunshine privilege. that's unfair. you don't like when things are unfair. you don't like the sunshine privilege. you don't like sunoo.

so you avoid him.

but he somehow still finds his way back to you.

"she totally hates you, dude, get over it," - sunghoon groans, shoving another loaf of bread into his mouth, and threatening to shove some into sunoo's mouth so he stops talking about you for the fifth time today.

"but why?! i didn't even do anything to her, i tried talking to her every single day since she moved here, i'm nice, i'm helpful, i'm a great guy, what am i doing wrong?!" - the younger boy whines into his palms, head buried in his hands, trying to come up with a way to win you over.

one of his other friends chimes into the conversation, taking a seat in between his friends and playfully wrapping his arm around sunoo, - "it's okay, man, there must be a way to get your little crush to like you!"

sunoo whips his head towards the boy, eyebrows furrowed so deeply that you'd think they'd merge into one another any second. - "heeseung, it's not a crush!"

sunghoon chuckles at his oblivious friend, - "is too!"

"... is it?"

you are kinda cute. your attitude, although not sunoo's style, makes you look even more adorable. you have pretty lips too, although you're always frowning. he thinks you'd look better with the corners of your lips turned upwards though. he wants to see you smile. he wants to make you smile. he wants to make you his.

☆ — YANG JUNGWON

jungwon thinks he's a pretty chill guy. he's always been levelheaded. most of the time he's the only levelheaded person in the room, to be completely honest. he knows what to say and when to say it. although he resembles a cat, the saying "cat got your tongue" had never applied to him. so why is he standing in front of you, his crush, ready to have his very first conversation with you, without a single word coming out of his mouth?

"oh, hey! jungwon, right?" - you ask, sending a soft smile his way.

you know his name. you know his name. you know his name.

"huh? yeah... i'm jungwon. um..." - his confident smile fades instantly when it really sinks in that he has no idea what to say to you. he always knows what to say, how could this happen to him?! this is ridiculous. if he weren't standing in front of you right now he'd slap himself in hopes of rattling his brain somehow.

your eyebrows furrow at the awkward silence taking over, - "do you need anything, jungwon?"

his name falls past your lips so gracefully that if hearing you say his name followed with the three words he wants to say to you the most means he must sell his every worldly possession, he will. but he can't tell you that. he can't tell you how pretty your eyes are either, he can't tell you that he wants to hold your hand, or wrap his arms around you and keep you in his warm embrace for a little while. or how he wants to bury his head in the crook of your neck and bask in your warmth, or that you're the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes on and it'd be an honor to take you out on a date. yeah, he definitely can't say that.

"you're the most beautiful person i've ever laid my eyes on, it'd be an honor to take you out on a date..."

it's over. he's a goner.

the way you twiddle with your fingers at his confession goes completely unnoticed despite his big round eyes growing wider at his own words. he's too far gone to see how a warm smile had made its way onto your face.

"sure, i'd love to!"

it's not over. in fact, it's just getting started.

☆ — NISHIMURA RIKI

riki is quite good at hiding his crush on you, considering how the overwhelming feelings have such a weight to them that he's sure his heart doubles at the mere mention of your name to make room for the intense emotions that'll start kicking in. you two aren't dating, although he wishes you were, and you're most definitely not best friends. he knows you, you know him, you think he's nice, he thinks about you every second of every day, y'know, the usual...

"riki, hey!" - you push through the crowd of students walking around a narrow hallway that could only be described as a jar filled to the brim with tiny little ants, very studious one's at that!

his friends' heads immediately turn your way. a girl, talking to riki?! although their eyes don't stay glued on you for too long, they quickly glance at riki. the sight was hilarious, his long fingers were brushing through his disheveled hair, free hand tugging at the hem of his hoodie to smoothen out any wrinkles. there's a soft tint of pink spread across his cheeks, nothing too noticeable, although the burning red glow of his ears was far from discreet.

"y/n, hey!" - he grins, the hand combing through his hair now scratching the nape of his neck to try and play it cool... very smooth! a muffled laugh escapes from one of his friend's shut lips as their orbs dart between the boy and you.

you reach into your pocket, rummaging through the various things you keep inside. crackling of your house keys and noises of crumpled-up paper can be heard before you take out something. riki's eyes try their best to tear away from your mesmerizing features so he can see what you're trying to show him with your arm stretched towards him and a big grin on your face. he notices a little something lying on your palm. it's a duck keychain. if you were any other person he'd look at the item in your hand with a disgusted look on his face, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squinting in pure horror. but you're you. you're the love of his life. that's probably why riki can feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, a stupid smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he tries his best to fight it off, yet the inevitable happens.

"take it, it's a gift! i saw it on the way to school and it reminded me of you!"

he quickly takes the keychain from your palm, ensuring his fingers stray as far away from yours as possible. even the slightest bit of physical contact and he feels his heart will explode for good. he mumbles out a thank you before you turn on your heels and walk away, completely oblivious that the butterflies in his stomach now make their way towards his throat, making him swallow dry.

"hey, riki, what's that?" - jungwon nudges him with his elbow, eyeing the item riki's holding between his fingers. a smile makes its way onto jungwon's lips as he glances up at his friend who's currently grinning from one red ear to another, rosy cheeks like pink buttons on a sweater made with love and care.

"i thought you hated ducks," - sunoo adds, sly hands reaching towards the keychain to try and pry it out of riki's hands, but instead the tall boy clutches harder onto the item, bringing it to his chest.

"well i like this one!" - he adds, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring at his nosy friend.

riki never knew he could like ducks this much.

©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!

taglist: @geombyu @junityy @uygmoeb @sunghun @eternallyhyucks @pshjae @marknaeroni @feyregels @neos127 @koishua @echo-of-a-writer @w3bqrl @duolingofanaccount @goldenhypen @sungniverse @hittoki @acciomylove @soobin-chois @anik-4 @yjwfav @ja4hyvn @ddeonubaby @deafeningballoonnacho @squiishymeow @odxrilove @iyeonjuni @nyaforniki @kittyeji @pinkyyyujin @addictedtothesummernights @love-4-keum @luveill @enhastolemyheart @kpop-kitkat @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @str4b3rizz @solvgume @nishislcve (bold means i can’t mention you, if you want to be a part of my taglist fill this out!!)

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Met the Devil 2

lucifer x human!reader

sorry this took forever it’s been hectic i guess im in my fanfic writer era of madness happening and mentioning it in the a/n (im joking… unless) anyways lads hopefully this is okay womp womp

Part [1]

Based on devilish folklore and wives tales so lucifer may be ooc!

Warnings: BODYHORROR; DESCRIPTIONS OF TEETH FALLING OUT. Mentions of blood, reader dies a goofy ahh death, lucifer being an unsure wreck, and he’s got no game, reader is perpetually confused, inaccurate descriptions of religion, swearing, not proof read and i don’t entirely know where i’m going with this teehee lmk whatcha think xxx

word count: 3.1K

Three months, it had been three exhausting months since the incident with Lucifer. As if there was some devine intervention, everything seemed to fall at your feet working out for you, while also simultaneously sucking. Career wise, you were doing much better, after working for Marie and watching her house keeping it exactly how she wished, excluding the devil you had intercourse with, she put in a word for you at her and her husbands church, which you ended up getting.

Although not a very important role, it paid well. You were mostly in charge of cleanliness, cleaning the areas in the front where children played, keeping the holy fountain fresh, sweeping the pews and repairing any unbinded bibles. However the staff weren’t particularly fond of you, the nuns avoided you like the plague, and the priest gave you glares. Thankfully you rarely interacted with them if at all.

However, while your career was better than before, your physical health wasn’t. Things tanked once you slept with the devil. It started slow, noticing hues appear in your skin that you hadn’t before. Despite the various skin, and blood tests, and the general run down of different illnesses that cause changing pigmentation, there was no evidence to prove anything was truly wrong, just random hues of pinks, purples and blues showing up like you were some corpse.

The second minuet thing to change was your nails, at first you foolishly wondered if your calcium intake increased causing the thickness in your nails to double, but you quickly scrapped that al when your nails grew more rapidly. You really hadn’t changed much diet wise for that to be true, odd as it was it wasn’t something you hated.

The worst of it was teeth. One night you woke to a horrific splitting headache, it wasn’t just one part of your head either. The pain seared through your jaw, down your neck, up your face through your cheeks and in the back of your eyes all the way to the tip top of your head. You walked half asleep half dazed from pain to the bathroom, once the light blinded you and you got woken up a bit was when your brain registered the feeling.

Your mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood as you tuned into the sound of tapping in your mouth as the loose teeth collided. When you threw yourself over your sink spitting continuously, you immediately began to cry feeling your empty gums with your tongue, and the worst part was it seemed you had swallowed some too as the amount in the sink didn’t amount to how much was missing.

That night you must’ve passed out because you were woken up by your angry family member shouting at you to hurry. The strangest thing was, however you awoke with teeth, sharp as razors, and the porcelain sink that was never cleared of blood or teeth was now cleaned.

Since your teeth, you managed to not lose nor gain any other strange things, and the only people who didn’t seem to look past these oddities were the people who attended the church or worked at it. It was like they could tell you slept with Lucifer, something in their eyes always felt so intense and aware even if they’d never spoken to you before. The strangeness didn’t end with your appearance or career.

You had weird dreams you couldn’t explain, it felt so real but once awake you could only remember how you felt about the dream. You had close interactions with certain animals, like ducks, goats, crows, and insects as well. It was like they sought you out no matter where you were, people would give you looks when you started greeting the goat like an old friend.

So,now three months after Lucifer, you changed a lot. You know it’s because of him, you just can’t figure out why, but soon you’ll know. Walking into your work place on your day off, everybody’s least favourite thing to do, but it had to be done. You saw the father reading a bible off to the side of the room, and so you approached. He gave you a stern look, and you could tell by his stiff and shifty body language he wasn’t too happy with your presence, antsy to see what it is you wanted.

“Good afternoon father, how’re you?” You start, standing in a way you perfected prior to attempt to seem unthreatening. The priest hummed closing his bible to pay attention to you. “Good child, good. How’re you, is there something i could aid you in?” Straight to the point, mentally you cheered happy you didn’t have to waltz around small talk for fifteen minutes.

“Well i’m alright father, thank you. I was actually wondering about, um, the devil?” The priest's head lulls back slightly eyebrows raised as his mouth opens with a silent o. “Is there temptation in your life?” You shifted on your feet at the question. You hadn’t really thought of it before but you suppose you felt more inclined to act without thinking,and indulge especially after Lucifer claimed you.

“Well yes, but i was more so wondering on what the devil is capable of? Like making deals, and stuff…” You trail eyes casted away to the large sculpture of jesus on the wall. “Nothing, the devil isn’t as strong as gods love. And never in the bible does it state the devil makes deals, that is but a wives tale.” The priest spoke sternly, punctuating his words to get his point across.

This was news to you however, you always thought the devil was more of a a character in the bible. “Father one more question?” You say head snapping back to look at him. “If the devil were to have intercourse with a person, what’s said to be the outcome? Will god punish?” The poor priest looked like he’d seen a ghost, yet you couldn’t comprehend why. Although slightly morbid you didn’t think the question was that out there, perhaps it was the monotonous way you’d said it.

“I’m afraid i don’t have the answer to that,” And with that the priest stood, excusing himself from your conversation walking off down the isle. “I heard the devil picks somebody to carry the antichrist.” Turning to the voice, there sat a woman, old looking wearing a light blue dress. “The anti christ?” You repeat mostly to yourself, but the elderly woman hummed. “Yep. Woo’s the target, sleeps with them, and they give birth to the antichrist. Bad things happen once the child’s born.” The woman explained turning to look back at you.

“And, what if there’s no anti christ, what if the devil just like…” The old lady cackled looking at your puzzled face. She tsked and ushered you near. When in front of her she met your eyes, again with that weirdly all knowing look on them everyone in the church seemed to give you. Holding out her hand to you, you opened yours holding it out to her.

She placed something in your hand but you weren’t able to know what it was before you dropped it shrieking. It was like gripping a hot coal, you gripped your wrist keeled over trying to breath out the pain. Your eyes briefly glanced over to the floor where the object dropped and sitting there was a gold rosary covered in what was more than likely your blood. Peaking up from your bent over position the old woman had took several steps back from you, hand up to her mouth.

Not knowing what to do, you perked up, thanked her for her input, and sped out to the street. Just like the night you met him, the sky darkened and clashed with lightning, then came the rain. The devil himself must’ve worked through water with the way it was a constant anytime something happened.

Walking down the street at leisure, you inspected the wound the rosary left as rain pelted you like no tomorrow. You sighed brushing your thumb over the large cross shaped gash. Suddenly a crack of lightning came down brightly, it was harsh and so very bright. Then another crack, this time however you felt the harshest pain describable. It was like being lit on fire inside your body, or like your blood was suddenly filled with glass shards and you could feel them coursing through.

You couldn’t scream too in pain, you simply slumped to the floor, the searing pain engulfing your body. As your eyes closed, it felt like the floor was sucking you down, but you couldn’t move. You couldn’t even will your eyes to open as you felt the concrete below you begin to engulf you fully. Your lungs burnt as you couldn’t breathe, but like any other regular circumstance where you’d gasp for breath, you were physically unable to. Like you’re body didn’t know how to breath, so you sat there chest feeling tight, burning and your stomach feeling like it was forcing itself inward but nothing changed.

As torturous as it was, it was short lived and finally you felt freed. The concrete beneath you morphed into something softer cozier, the breathlessness left finally you were able to fill your lungs with air almost as refreshing as a glass of water would’ve been, and when you opened your eyes you were greeted by the sight of a bedroom. It was decorated with whites, reds and golds, around you could see engraved apples and ducks in not only the door frames and baseboards but some of the furniture as well.

You couldn’t will yourself to sit up, you still felt the fire on the inside of your body albeit gentler than before. “Hey cookie.” Cooed a smooth voice, you didn’t have to look to know who it was, but thankfully he stepped in front of you, kneeling down to your laying figure. “How you feeling?” You stared at his face, scanning it over and over, his eyes were hauntingly beautiful. The red irises danced around nervously, you watched intently as his forked tongue brushed against the dryness of his lips.

“You’re beautiful.” You mutter half muffled by the fact you sunk comfortably into the mattress that you lay on. Chuckling quietly the king of hell turned and sat on the side of the bed, petting your head very gently like you were made of glass. “Where am i?” His hand stuttered on your head, and finally you rolled over onto you back to gain the view of him. His hat discarded, his suit jacket gone, he sat only in a vest, dress shirt, and his white suit pants.

“Hell, sweetheart.” It was interesting how warmly he had said that to you, looking down at you with almost a pitying expression. “I’m dead?” You jerked up, immediately regretting it as the pain shot through your body from the top of your head down. Sucking in air through your teeth, clenching your eyes shut Lucifer cooed at you reprimanding you for being too quick. “God must’ve struck you down.” His voice lifted as he let out his attempt at a joke, but you weren’t really in the mood to laugh.

“What happened, with me when i was alive.” You ask looking over to him, the expression he had looked slightly guilty, his eyes casted downward, a frown that tried to be a poker face- but failed. “I, well y’see, heh,” Lucifer fumbled picking at his nails and looking around the room. He bounced himself against the mattress almost like he was amping himself up. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay! So y’know you got some human repellant, claws, sharp teeth, that dead look. Sent some little guardians after you! Too bad you couldn’t meet the snake.” Lucifer tisked mournfully shaking his head.

You smiled at him, oddly enough, it was quite endearing that he set out to do these things to keep you safe. “Oh!” He sprung up meeting your eyes properly. “I also made Marie get you that job, and I forced a good pay, always here to help y’know.” The king briefly pinched your cheek before retracting and standing. He looked frazzled, uncertain, he pulled at his clothes like he was trying to fix them. “Sorry it’s been awhile. Y’know i gave up going to earth in like 1850.” The devil laughed out, scratching the back of his neck.

You scooted yourself to the edge of the bed, Lucifer watching intently. “So, what, well I mean, why…?” You were confused head bobbing as you tried to make sense of everything. Things didn’t entirely add up this you were certain of, and you could tell the king was keeping something hidden from you. “As you know hell is well, it’s hell, and you were so…” He trailed off hands circling eachother as he gazed off into space, attempting to find the right words.

Deflating his body slumped over, in one foul swoop it looked as though he’d lost all the will to keep up his charade. “Look I didn’t think you were gonna shake my hand, but in the moment I was hooked on you. The night you took the apple reminded me of days of my life i can’t go back to. So i may have indulged, but i didn’t expect you to be soooo,”

Your eyebrows pinched together as you watched him with judgement, giving him a look that egged him on, yet warned him. “Captivating?” You ‘hmphed’ at his term, as weak and guilty grin overtaking his face. “Okay okay. I enjoyed our night, you gave me advice and helpful conversation I haven’t gotten in, pfft,” He was now pacing, eyes wide as his arms wrapped around himself as a way to secure him.

“Ever, you were a breath of fresh air! I didn’t expect the deal to go through! I didn’t expect you to grab my hand, so when you sold your soul you started to gain those devilish features. I wanted to make sure you were still safe so I manipulated Marie, got you the job, but nothing else was planned!” He exclaimed hands coming up in defence, although it wasn’t like you were angry, you sat there patiently watching him and waiting for him to finish his explanation at his own pace. Understanding this was probably just as stressful for him, if what he says is true.

Blowing out air the king pulled gently at his hair. “I don’t know what to do from here, I sent animals to protect you, I knew something would happen, damnit!” The short man raged eyes blowing up red, that snapped you up, gently you grabbed his shoulders. “I believe you, I have no idea what’s going on either so it’s okay! I’m terrified, but you don’t look any better. Maybe we can figure it out together?” You suggest attempting to be a voice of reason, watching his eyes hue from bright red to the yellow and red irises you’re more familiar with.

He sighed and nodded looking slightly embarrassed. “Do you think we could set some ground rules?” You quirked a brow at that, watching as he once again began to pace. “My daughter, Charlie, we spoke about her, she can’t know I made a deal with you! And for now, she can’t know i did anything sexual. Oh no no no. NO!” Lucifer panicked, switching between gripping his hair and swinging his arms around. It felt like a stab in the gut, it wasn’t your first time being a secret, but you wish you could’ve kept the promise you made to yourself about getting into another situation where you were just a secret fling.

“I’m not gonna pretend that doesn’t get under my skin slightly, I’d prefer not to be the devil's dirty secret, but I understand what Charlie means to you so I’ll do whatcha need.” Lucifer looked at you sheepishly, it seemed like he slightly regretted the choice of delivery as you crossed your arms across your chest, looking at him with a tinge of disgust in your eye. “Okay next, uh let's see, okay you’ll pose as my assistant and you’ll spend the days with me so I can keep an eye on ya….”

You quirk your head, pondering if you should say what you want to say. Which was questioning him and the motive here, it’s normal to say things you don’t always mean in such an intense moment of sex fueled emotion, but now there’s a big consequence and you’re not sure if he really knows what he wants to do. “Hey,” You say quietly grabbing him from his frantic mumbling that he was doing to himself. He hummed at you, his attention refocused on you as he did. “Do you at all regret the deal.”

Lucifers eyes blew wide, his lips puckering as his fingers fiddled with each other. “Regret is a very loaded work y’know- uh, I think- eh, maybe if- okay so,” He fumbled his wings popping out feathers flying around as they did, they puffed out with stress making you gawk. “Uhm, I wouldn't do it again if I had the choice! But still I would've wanted the sex!” Finally he pumped his chest proudly, meanwhile you rolled your eyes. “That’s what most men would do, yeah.” Your tone was bitter, catching him off guard a bit, to be fair he didn’t know what you wanted from him. Normally deals were two sided, but this one you benefited nothing from, except trauma and an early grave.

“I didn’t mean that,” Damn he really lost his way after Lilith huh, every flirtation came out so naturally but now it seemed it was so unsure, no king of a whole mini word of demons should be unsure, he mentally scolded himself for being so unfit.

“Listen can we figure this out later, I still feel the pain from when I died, so I would love to sleep that off.” You say plopping yourself back on the comfy mattress. “Yes, yes of course go ahead! We’ll figure this out together hm, shedevil? Won’t leave you in the dark!” This time his exclamation sounded certain as he jumped into the bed with you, snapping his fingers so the lights blinked out. You hummed too lazy to respond and crawled underneath the covers, it was nice, warm and smelt like him, underneath the covers you felt him slip in with you, his body heat emitting off of him in waves.

You hoped your mind was less clouded tomorrow, hopefully you could have a better conversation with the king about this deal, get things sorted out.

[lovely-rubeum]

affirming word.

your first argument with al haitham is one you are sure you’ll never forget. not because of his piercing words and the cold way he stares back at you, but because of his desperate reassurance. the soft way he held you as apologies were uttered, and the gentle way he cared for every tear you shed.

a/n: waah this is my first fic on this account !! cheers ^^

w/c: ~1.5k

warnings: not proof read (im lazy my bad) mentions of arguments, insecurities. hurt/comfort

al haitham has been in maybe, one relationship before this one, you gather. there’s a certain coarseness to the way he approaches love and being in love with you that bleeds with lack of experience. it is not a slight against him, in fact, you’d consider it the furthest from that. you are honored to have been so cherished by someone who claims to not have time for trivial things. if al haitham is good at one thing, beyond mathematics or research or memorization, it is making you feel like you are not and will never be “trivial” to him. he remembers every date, he recalls every small detail, and he does everything he can, even in his busy schedule to make time for you. because you are the one he chose, and you are beyond his preconceptions about the usefulness and reason for “falling in love,” or other trifling activities.

so, when he calls you just that -- useless and pointless and trivial, it stings. and it stings for more than an hour, after the silence has settled in your shared living space and dinner has gone cold. it stings every time he looks at you, unable to control his cold and calculating frustration. even by the time said frustration is no longer directed at you but at himself for getting caught up -- for the escalation to petty insults rather than progress towards a natural solution. even as you both stand up and say you’re sorry for hurting each other and promise to listen and care. you are still left stinging. you ache all over, even as you lie in bed with him, his warm arms pulling your form close as you both whisper declarations of retreat, compromise, and love. you close your eyes and take in his scent, woody, almost a bit musky and just a twinge reminiscent of a well kept library. you would find solace here, but you cannot help but ache. your eyes sting with salt and self-admonishment as you sleep, feeling as though the two of you are left further apart than you were before.

it’s been several days now. the sounds of the bustling streets and the near silence of the akademia’s halls do nothing to comfort your still stirring heart. you see al haitham every day, you tell him you love him every day (because you do, and you’ll be damned before the aftermath of a finished argument tells you that you do not). he echoes the same, but still you think

trivial? were you nothing but pointless and foolish? did your beloved boyfriend, in times of distress, think of you as the very things he swore not to make you feel you were? it hurts to feel distant from him, but you’re sure he hasn’t noticed. in fact, you think it’s better that he hasn’t noticed. he’s a busy, busy man. and, really, he shouldn't be worried about something as frivolous as the way you feel about a pain that’s passed silently for days. you’ll get over it, because you’ve already talked and you love him and that should be enough.

but you forget, that al haitham, while not a fool, is foolishly in love with you. he is a man that gets what he needs and what he wants and when there are obstacles in his path he devises clear plans to avoid them. the only thing he would readily admit to making mistakes over is you. you and your smile that lights up his entire world, you and the way you care for him and challenge his mind in the most electrifying way. you who holds him as he sinks into the depths of his mind, and you who promises him eternity, irrational as that may be. so when you distance yourself, drowning in your own hurt, al haitham is planning. your wounds are like aching scars on his back. prickling with pain and a reminder of his failing, not to himself, but his failing to provide you with the world as you deserve. he sits in his office, stiff and cautious. what on earth could it be that has sent you away from him? what sort of thorns have coated your heart and how should he cut through them to get to you? 

you don’t think much of it, when you’re called into al haitham’s office today. you expect nothing more than an update about his findings. you’ll walk in, say hello, chat for a time until you realize you’ve veered off course and then you’ll depart with timid “i love you”s and you’ll stare into the silence as you hope for the short moment to lift your heart the way it had before it was wounded. you do not expect to see him staring anxiously at the door as you enter. you do not expect him to run a hand through his pretty gray hair and quietly ask you a question.

“could you lock the door?” you do, but you’re holding your breath. dread floods your veins and you cannot help but feel intimidated as he stands and approaches you. in an attempt to flee from your racing mind and heart, you change the subject.

“hi, dear. did you need something? i should have given you the report from—” you’re silenced by the worried look on his face. it’s a foreign expression, one where his shining, always focused eyes dart around you with a mixture of something like fear and hurt, and one where his built arms hang awkwardly at his sides as he figures out what to say first.

“there’s something wrong,” he starts. your breath hitches and you’re forced to break eye contact. al haitham frowns. “please don’t do that. please look at me.” the plea hurts your chest, but you can’t bring yourself to do just that. you try to wave it off.

“there’s nothing—” but the shake in your voice betrays you. he waits for you to open up. for you to take the first step, because your comfort is his priority, but you can tell with the tension in the air that he will cut through if you do not. al haitham gets what he needs, and what he needs more than life is your happiness. you’re sure of that now, as you look back at his expression, endlessly full of concern for you. you can’t bring yourself to lie anymore. “okay, maybe there is something.”

“may i inquire?” he says it so timidly you’d think he’s another person. you can’t stop yourself from sighing. 

“i just… it’s stupid. i don’t think it’s worth making a big deal. i’ll be over it soon.” the deadpan look on his face says otherwise.

“you have been… apart from your usual self. for longer than three nights. i’m worried about you.” al haitham’s admission is shaking, but resolute. his soothing voice quakes just the slightest bit, but he refuses to back down. you cave at his look, just as you always do.

“i‘m just… still hurt. over what you said, when we argued? i didn’t want you to feel bad since we already moved on from the problem but i keep thinking about it and hearing it in my head. you called me trivial.” al haitham pauses, as if recounting the event. you continue. “i know you probably didn’t mean it, but i can’t help but think that maybe…”

“stop,” he says with a gentleness reserved only for you. he places his hands gently on your shoulders while silently asking for permission in his gaze to pull you close. you nod, and suddenly his hand is patting the back of your head softly, as if you’re the most cherished being in the universe itself.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” you feel your eyes welling up with tears as he holds you close and admits fault. he pulls away slightly, but only to dry your tears with his thumb.

“you are everything to me. and it was only foolish of me to have allowed things to progress to this point. i would move mountains and slay the worst of foes just to see you happy. i have taken away part of your smile, even for a second. and for that i am so sorry.”

there is a tenderness in his eyes. you couldn’t imagine a more beautiful expression if you tried, and it is then that you realize he is not used to wearing this expression. he is clumsy in the way he squeezes you, and although he is intelligent, he is also inept in maintaining his usual aloofness as he reassures you that you will never be a waste of his time. it is then too, that you notice the fear squandering his composure as he promises to love you for what may be the millionth time.

you relax and while you cry in his arms, you allow al haitham’s affirming word into your heart, never to be shaken again.

[ohblitz0]

Ghost and Konig drunk at the pub at the end of a large mission debating who you would rather have sex with. You overhear them and in your drunken state you proclaim that you could take both of them. They look at you shocked, but you're drunk little slut and you love the attention so you add in, "at the same time." Before you can even register what is happening Konig is picking you up and Ghost is calling an Uber back to the base. They're both trying to discreetly slip their hand between your thighs and up your shirt. Once you get back to base they escort you to your room and have their ways with you.

i like the way you think anon. this has me running laps just thinking about these two big masked men <3

Nsfw Content Below.

“you’re so dirty, meine liebe.” konigs voice was pressed so softly against your ear, lips ghosting the shell of it as he nipped at the nape of your neck. your back was pressed up against his chest, both of his large hands gripping at your inner thighs, keeping your shaking legs open, which had ghost eagerly lapping at your cunt.

“no— i just~” you whimpered out, barely able to form a coherent sentence when ghost was flicking his tongue so deliciously at your clit. your head falling back into konigs shoulder, your hair sticking to your forward, another whine leaving your lips when one of konigs hand began fondling your tits.

ghost chuckled into your sex, the vibration making your back arch, your cum leaking out of you, cunt practically drooling all over ghosts tongue.

“sweet thing can’t even talk huh? you taste so fuckin’ good, lovie.” his words sickening sweet despite him ripping another orgasm from you before even putting his cock inside. prepping you nice and slow. taking his time.

“ja, she seems ready, no? think she can take the both of us? like mein liebling said?” konigs words bringing you back to when you foolishly confessed that you could take both of their cocks so publicly.

your head was shaking rapidly, legs turning into themselves trying to shield ghosts abuse on your cunt, watching as he sat up on his knees, hands grabbing your knees and pushing them apart once more. you could feel his eyes looking over you and it made your skin feel flushed.

they practically manhandled you into a new position, so weak already, so hazy that you couldn’t even move properly. now on your hands and knees, your face inches away from ghosts hard cock, your back arching when you felt the tip of konigs cock pushing at your folds.

“please, im sorry—“

“your pleas are useless. you wanted this right? you wanted to be used like a little slut so fuckin’ deal with it.” ghost’s voice rumbled deep, a primal kind of growl in his tone before he stuffed your face full of him, making a muffled shriek fall from you.

“be nice, mein leutnant. she’s being so good for us, ja?” you heard from behind you before his full length penetrated you, filling you to the brim, right to your womb.

“yeah— fuck, our pretty girl.”

[lordprettyflackotara]

huntin’ wabbitz || eyeless jack

REALLY FILTHY SMUT MINORS DNI. tw: size kink, disgusting sex in the woods/rain, breeding (obvi), slight cnc if you squint, brief descriptions of gore. i really like this one guys im locked in fr

Fear.

It was the only adrenaline you had left.

The wind slapped you in the face as you weaved through the forest, avoiding the large oak trees that threatened to block your escape.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire, your breath shallow as you tried to listen to the footsteps following you. The man, no, the creature that was hunting you, was going to eat you alive. It was a tragic accident, disturbing a seeming cannibal from his dinner.

If his head hadn’t snapped up to meet your horrified gaze you might’ve passed out from the sight of unidentifiable piles of meat. That was all that was left of his previous victim. You could barely even process it being a person, it’s ribcage torn open brutally. You had never seen anything like it.

Your breath had hitched, your heart threatening to burst out of your own ribcage the longer you stood frozen. It was the demons haunting gaze that snapped you out of your trance. Its mask displayed empty eye sockets. If you were lucky, the demon would be blind. Unfortunately for you, you were far from lucky.

Your heart was racing like a rabbits, the sound like heroin to the demon nipping at your heels. It was then you felt a rain drop fall from the cruel sky, a convenient lighting bolt briefly illuminating the forest. You looked around, forcing yourself to stop. Your lungs were pleading for air, your mouth agape as you inhaled as much oxygen as physically possible. Your eyes darted around nervously, searching for the tall cannibal. You tried to listen to the forest, noting its silence.

It was eerie, the only sound ensuing being the rain droplets falling from the sky. Its companion was a low rumble of thunder that sounded far off in the distance. You leaned against a tree, paranoid as your lungs tried to regain consistency in breathing. You swallowed as you scanned your surroundings. Every direction looked the exact same. You audibly were panting as you searched for any sign of originality. Any sign of a marker that could lead you back to safety.

You had wondered away from your campsite with your friends, opting to explore a river you believed to be nearby. You had found your requested river, with a seated cannibal tearing organs apart in front of it. You felt like you were going to be sick, nausea washing over you. Foolishly you had left your phone behind, leaving you entirely on your own. Anything to connect with nature, right? Except this demon wasn’t apart of nature. Or maybe it was. Maybe it was a cruel joke the maker above thought would be funny.

Your vision was growing hazy, the rain from above beginning to pour. You could feel the rain droplets drip onto you, penetrating your clothes. It was then a large set of hands clamped onto your shoulders, your body jolting into action. As swift as you could you turned around, planting a firm punch to the attackers face. Your knuckles screamed in pain as you watched the demon stumble, his dark gray hands pawing at his mouth. You watched as his hands lowered, a crack splitting down the left cheek of the blue mask.

Your realization and the demons ensued at the same time, neither of you moving as another lightning bolt struck. Its light briefly lit up the forest, flashing a glimpse of the creatures silent rage. You turned on your heels, throwing yourself into the night as you tried to escape the creatures grasp. You didn’t get very far, the breath being knocked out of your lungs as the demon threw you against the mud below. You thrashed under his touch, trying to kick and punch any part of him.

The attempts at retaliation meant nothing, the demons eye sockets narrowing as he pinned your wrist by your head. His slender fingers were strong, gripping your tiny wrist and holding them by your head menacingly. “You’re a real fucking bitch you know that?” He growled. You noticed the dried blood on his hands staining your skin, the rain washing away it away. “At least i’m not a cannibal you sick fuck!” You fired back. The demon above you hovered for a moment, contemplating your courage. He couldn’t determine if you were brave or stupid.

“I am not a human,” The creature stated dryly. He lifted his mask, grabbing your frantic arm before it could do any damage. You watched as he smiled, his teeth razor sharp and blood stained. “However, your kind created what I am,” He purred. He leaned down, eerily close to your throat. You listened to him inhale deeply through his nose. Your breaths became more shallow as the realization fell over you, that he was smelling you because you were prey.

Clearly insults and threats weren’t working, the demons ears twitching. Your eyes narrowed as they twitched, realizing each little movement matched up with the sound of your heart beat. “You can hear my heart beat?” You asked. The rain had soaked the demon as well at this point, his brunette hair sticking to his forehead. Thunder rumbled around the both of you, your mouth running dry despite the on pour of rain. “As clearly as you can hear the thunder,” He replied. He finished taking off his mask, watching your face twist in horror as his full face was revealed.

His mask wasn’t an illusion after all. If anything it was a raw and brutal window, one full of transparency. You felt tongue tied as you stared into the demons empty eye sockets. A black ooze dripped down his under eyes, the substance seemingly leaking from the sockets. The creatures lips curled upwards into a devious small. “Scared yet?” He asked. The lightning flashed again, revealing the blood that still stained his rows of razor blade sharp teeth. You slowly nodded yes, afraid to speak any further. His eye sockets narrowed as he leaned closer to your face.

“At least you’re honest. Most of your kind isn’t,” He huffed. You watched as he dug into his black hoodie, pulling a small medical tool. You squinted as you tried to see exactly what the metal was, a strike of lightning revealing the scalpel. You froze as one of his large hands trailed down to the hem of your shirt. He was bringing the metal blade slowly to your stomach, your heart pounding. “Wait wait wait, don’t,” You say. The demons gaze lands on your face. If he had eyes he would’ve rolled them. “Is this the part where you start begging me to live? You aren’t better than your counterparts you know,” He huffed.

Your eyes were glued to the scalpel. There was no way he could be hungry after what you saw. “No, this is the part where I offer you something else,” You answered defiantly. The creature stared down at you in amusement. Your heart was pitter pattering like a little rabbit, his lips curling up into a mischievous smile. “Oh yeah? What could you possibly offer me?” He asked tauntingly. Truthfully money was useless, that wouldn’t work. The only valuable thing you had was your body. Which is what he wanted. Unless of course, you could offer him a different part of your body.

“I’ll let you fuck me,” You told him. Your breathing felt shallow as you watched the demons face fall into deep concentration. “Must be lonely living out here, right? I can fix that,” You continued, your voice trailing off. He stared down at you, watching you carefully. “You got a name rabbit?” The demon asked you. You cleared your throat as best as you could. “Y-yeah i’m-” You began, the demon cutting you off.

“Changed my mind, doesn’t matter. When you’re with me your name is rabbit, got it?” He huffed. His large hands slithered up to your bra, soaked with the rain falling from above. “Do you uh- you know, have a name?” You asked quietly. He squeezed at your breast through your bra, your core beginning to throb in desire. “EJ, but you can call me Jack,” He said quietly. Jack leaned forward, his lips hovering an inch away from yours. Your breath hitched, the smell of blood flooding your nostrils. “Dont be scared rabbit, I don’t bite,” He cooed. Jack teasingly leaned in closer to your ear, grinning, “And the taste of blood grows on you after a while.”

Jack brought his lips to yours, the taste of copper overwhelming your senses. You could feel yourself visibly cringing, Jacks hands shoving your bra upwards. His teased your nipples playfully, your tense body beginning to relax. You felt disgusted, lying in mud as the rain fell from the skies above with a demon toying with your body. You groaned as he twisted your nipples playfully, grinning into the kiss as he did so. “Oh I see, someone’s a little masochist,” He hummed. Jack chucked darkly as his lips strayed away from yours, trailing down to your neck.

Thunder rumbled around the both of you, your eyes fluttering shut as he began sucking at your neck. Jack knew he had to be careful, his teeth able to penetrate your delicate skin and dig straight into an artery. You’d bleed out before he could even have some real fun. He did crave you though, the closer he got to your skin the more feral you drove him. He wanted to devour your organs so bad it made him sick, his cock throbbing with desire as you groaned beneath him. “Thats it, keep making those noises for me,” Jack purred, his lips reattaching to your skin.

He had no perception of how rough he actually was, your neck becoming littered with dark purple and brown marks. His hand trailed down to your shorts, slipping underneath the thin fabric. Teasingly he rubbed two fingers along your slit, grinning as he felt your wetness. “Someone’s awfully drenched for the terrible cannibal, aren’t they?” He asked mockingly. You swallowed, gaining the courage to look at him. His dark gaze sent a chill down your spine. “It’s just from the rain,” You lied. You couldn’t explain what your body was doing. That it actually wanted this.

Jack pushed your panties to the side, rubbing his fingers against your bare cunt. You whined at the smallest stimulation, the demon above you becoming amused. Jack hadn’t felt the touch of a woman in a long time, his primal urges preventing him from doing so. But he knew his anatomy. He began to rub slow circles around your clit, relishing in the sight of your back arching off of the ground. “Fu-fuck-” You whimpered. You gasped as Jack shoved two of his slender fingers inside of you. He curled them with ease, his cock only growing harder at the feeling of how tight you were.

You hadn’t expected to feel this good, whimpers escaping your lips. “Thats it, such a good fucktoy for me,” Jack praised. He tilted his head to the side as he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head. You were crumbling around his fingers and he had barely even touched you yet. “That feel good? Hmm? The big bad freak gonna make you cum?” He asked mockingly. You couldn’t control the moans that escaped your mouth, your hair becoming drenched from the ongoing storm.

He continued to abuse your g spot, watching your cute facial expressions as he ruined you. “F-fuck Jack I’m gonna c-cum,” You stammered, unable to control the knot forming in your stomach. Jack couldn’t get enough of you. The sound of your voice moaning his name enough to make his cock twitch. “Yeah? Go on then, you can do it. Cum for me,” He ordered. You threw your head back, ignoring the mud coating your hair as you came. Your legs trembled as you came around his fingers, the demon slowly slipping them out of you. He brought them to his mouth, examining them.

You watched as three black tongues came out of his mouth, licking his digits clean. “Such a delicious rabbit. Now turn over,” Jack ordered. He could hear your heart pounding at the sight of his tongues. Truthfully he enjoyed it. He enjoyed scaring you. But what he enjoyed more was corrupting you. Ignoring the slimy feeling of the mud covering your knees and elbows, you arched your back in front of him. Your core was still throbbing desperately. You had never had an orgasm like that, your previous experiences with men nothing like this.

Faintly you could hear the metal clinking of Jacks belt as he shoved his pants down, the rumbling thunder echoing through out the trees. Jack rubbed his tip up and down your slick, collecting your juices on his shaft. “Since you’ve been such a good rabbit i’ll go slow. Don’t wanna break my new pet,” Jack purred. You gasped as he began pushing himself inside of you. The head of his cock alone was enough to make you whimper. Jack grunted as he slowly pushed himself in. “Fucking hell. You’re not a virgin, are you? You sure feel like one,” Jack huffed. If it weren’t for the unreal pain you were feeling you would’ve been able to explain better.

But instead you said, “No i’m not, I just- haven’t had great experiences-”

You could barely form coherent words, your mouth running dry. His cock was bigger than you anticipated, your body tensing up out of fear. Jack could feel your tension. You were so tiny compared to him. He swallowed as he slithered one hand down to your clit, circling the bundle of nerves. “Thats right, relax for me,” Jack murmured. The extra stimulation made you slowly relax, Jack able to fully bottom out. Once fully inside he let out a satisfied groan, before licking his lips. The storm was seeming to die down, a light rain shower the only thing the sky had left to provide.

Jack began slowly pulling out, before pushing back into you. You mewled as he began to go faster, snapping his hips into yours. The pain was fading into pleasure, your body craving more. His name fell off of your lips like a mantra, mixed in with strings of curses. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Jack groaned. He continued to pound into you mercilessly, fucking you into the ground below. His mind became blank all of a sudden, the only thing he could think of being rather simple: breed.

“You like this, don’t you? Being a slut for me. Taking me like this,” Jack panted. He drew faster circles around your clit, continuing to abuse your g spot. “Yeah? Wanna be my personal cum slut forever? My personal rabbit to breed?” Jack rambled. When you failed to respond with anything other than cock drunk moans, a firm slap landed on your ass. The electric shock of pain went down your spine, the skin already turning red. “Yes, please,” You whined, unable to say anything further. He could feel you squeezing around him, your walls threatening that you were close.

“Awe rabbit, are you gonna cum already?” Jack taunted. He grabbed a handful of your wet and tangled hair, pulling you back to him. His soulless eye sockets peered down into your fucked out eyes. “Go on then, cum all over my cock so I can breed you,” He ordered. Your eyebrows briefly furrowed, the demons gaze refusing to stray. “Just know once I do, you’ll be mine forever. There’s no escaping me. If you’re willing to do that just for an orgasm, you really do deserve to be stuck with me,” Jack grunted, his hips never letting up for a minute.

His threats only made you squeeze him tighter, his name spilling from your lips as you came around his cock. You could feel your vision growing hazy, black dots appearing as you blinked slowly. Your body was spent, the numbing feeling of Jacks hips snapping into yours continuing. You felt yourself take one more deep breath, before falling into the pit of darkness that called your name.

\/

Your vision was blurry upon waking up, your body sore as you immediately went to move. Your legs ached, your breath shaky as memories of the night before ensued. As you scanned your surroundings you recognized the tent you had entered the night before. Were those actually memories? You jumped at the sound of the zipper unzipping, revealing one of your friends named Emma.

“You’re awake? You’ve been asleep all morning, you missed Alex’s attempt at fishing. Come get some brunch,” She said cheerfully. You gave her a weak smile, nodding and forcing yourself to sit up. You cringed at the tightness in your legs. The bag beside you was filled with your clothes, your hands beginning to rummage through them for an outfit. You must’ve dreamt Jack entirely. You did hike yesterday with your friends, that’s why your body was sore. Right?

Jack wasn’t real, he was a figment of your imagination that only existed in deepest depths of your mind. The void filled with a monstrous creature that could fill your filthy desires. You began changing, pulling down your panties. It was then your eyes narrowed at the slickness that had dripped into them. You felt your heart begin to pound as you examined your panties, which were full of Jacks cum that had leaked from your cunt. He was real. And you were his.

[dojunie]

MISDIAL; LJN [CH5] VOICEMAIL REDUX

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

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

college au

chaptered

very slow burn

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

warnings for this chapter; kys mention in joking manner

chapter wc: ...13K

a/n: i couldn't decide between posting this monster whole or cutting it into two parts, but two parts kind of makes the pacing weird, so here she is in all her glory! been editing this so long that i've gotten sick of looking at it so im just going to release it into the world now LOL, pls pls pls give me feedback on this chapter, im not 100% satisfied w it but i cant tell if its because it sucks or i've just been rereading it too much 🥸

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

.

.

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FORGET WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT NEVER BEING ABLE TO GET MAD AT SOMI, BECAUSE THIS TIME, YOU’RE REALLY GOING TO KILL HER.

At this exact moment in time, the Aegon Showcase is set to begin in about fifteen minutes. You’ve got half of a chocolate muffin stuffed into your mouth (courtesy of Somi sneaking a few snacks from the audience lounge, since the dancers technically weren’t supposed to be eating any of the guest refreshments), and you were about halfway through swallowing this chunk of bread when Somi said something that made you nearly choke.

For context: six and a half days have passed since you’ve last spoken to Jeno.

And you haven’t been counting, either. It just so happens that it is surprisingly easy to recall every passing minute when each one feels like it’s been put there specifically to test you.

The afternoon after the Balcony Incident, for example— a few fresh hours after you left Lee Jeno behind on that overlook with the full intention of never looking him in the eyes ever again. After a late breakfast with Somi you’d told her you weren’t feeling too well, that you’d be leaving a little earlier than planned (which, even though you’d said your pain was of the intestinal variety, wasn’t untrue; you didn’t feel well, if the widening pit in your stomach caused by that morning was anything to go by) and departed her penthouse a little after one. 

You’d foolishly hoped that Jeno and his entourage would have plans literally anywhere other than Mark’s place for once, wanting to do nothing but silently mope around the apartment for a few hours once you'd gotten home, but you’d been naive.

You’d been so, so naive.

“Oh!” you’d heard. Renjun. Brown hair, big dark eyes peeking at you around the doorframe as you cradled your now-aching nose bridge. You opened the front door and crashed face first into something solid. “Hey, you. Perfect timing. Do you wanna come grocery shopping with us? Jaemin’s cooking tonight!”

“We’ll even let you ride in the cart,” Chenle chimed in from further into the hallway, grinning wickedly, but you couldn’t focus on either of them because they were both half-hidden behind what you’d smashed into with your haste to get inside. No gray flannel this time, but the same unreadable expression on his face as he, much like he did at the party last night, instinctively grabbed you to keep you from falling on your ass.

(Or his expression was unreadable. Until his eyes trained on something about your face that he didn’t like and his dark eyebrows furrowed with something akin to concern. Then you remembered you’d been crying all morning and surely looked like some sort of dried-out blowfish, eyelids puffy and swollen, so you averted your eyes and jumped out of his grip like he’d stung you.)

“Busy,” you told them quickly, “Sorry. Not today.”

Renjun pouted. Chenle squinted at you, obviously doubtful. And when Jeno finally moved out of the way, you didn’t even thank him for keeping you upright. You just kept your attention on the ground and beelined into the apartment.

Little did you know, that one word would become your mantra. Busy, busy, busy. But it wasn’t like you were completely lying, because you were busy. The Aegon showcase was in a week which meant you had practice every free hour with Somi and the others, and the last thing you needed was to get distracted by circling Jeno like some kind of sad, miserable shark. The good thing about being out of the house so often was that most of the week passed with no more Jeno-related incidents.

Thursday night ended up being the first time you’d seen him with your own eyes since you face-planted into him the previous Saturday.

You’d returned home at 10PM, sweaty and exhausted from a last minute choreo change that had, apparently, also wiped clean the memory of what Thursday nights meant in the Mark Lee household. Movie night. The tiredness you felt was so all-encompassing that upon the discovery of all seven of them sitting around the couch staring at you as you entered, there wasn’t even enough energy to feel awkward. Even then, you must not have looked as ghastly as you felt because Jaemin smiled at you like nothing was amiss, gesturing towards the dining table and the mountain of brown bags atop it.

“You’re late, Rockstar. Take-out’s gone cold.”

Jeno was sitting right next to him. Your muscles were like jelly. All of your bones hurt. Your brain felt like it was operating on nothing but fumes. (And this is what you blamed for your cowardice— the fact that you couldn’t even hold your head up to look in his direction in fear of catching his eye.)

After everyone had gone home and you had free reign of the kitchen once again, Mark hit you with a few more questions about the Aegon Comp; seemingly insignificant inquiries like how the parking situation was (which you didn’t understand the importance of, since he said he’d probably ride his bike there), and if he could sit wherever he wanted (which again, confused you, because the ticke you’d gotten him was one of the best in house). But in your state of fatigue you didn’t think to question it. All you wanted to do was eat something and go to bed, and that’s exactly what you did.

(If you’d had your wits about you maybe you’d have put two and two together. Maybe Somi’s words wouldn’t have caught you with the surprise they did. But as it stands…)

As it stands it’s Friday afternoon, the day of the Aegon Showcase, and half a chocolate muffin is stuffed into your face (technically now stuffed into your airway) as you come to the realization that your friend might secretly be trying to ruin your life.

“You really need to stop eating your food so fast,” Jiara murmurs, clapping you on the back with a little more force than necessary. “No one is going to take it from you. Smaller bites will go a long way.”

You gasp a breath when the chunk finally unsticks. Then, “You saw who in the audience lounge?”

Somi is nonplussed by your horror.

“I saw your brother out there trying to throw a skittle over a lighting fixture and still catch it in his mouth. When I was leaving with our food I think I heard a bunch of people cheer so I’d bet he managed to do it, which, when you think about how high these ceilings are, is actually pretty impressive—”

You fight the urge to grab her by her shoulders and shake her. “I’m not asking about the goddamn skittles!” you hiss. “Somi, you said you saw ‘them’ when you went out there. Them as in plural. Who is them?”

She makes a face like you should already know who. “Who else? Mark and the rest of his crew. And Donghyuck asked to bring a few more, so I guess those are who the other guys out there are. Why are you acting like you didn’t already know this? You were sitting right next to me when Donghyuck was practically begging to come!”

Your life flashes before your eyes.

Jeno’s car. The rain, pounding against the windows. Catching him looking at you in the mirror after Somi told them about the showcase, how it felt like the world outside faded away a little as some little message passed between you— when you felt like he was telling you something without saying a single word.

Then you remember it. In your distant, distant periphery, even though she’d been sitting not even a millimeter to your left when these alleged plans were discussed.

‘Yeah! I mean, I reserved like, a bajillion seats in advance because I knew I’d want to invite everyone who would even consider coming— I’ll definitely get the best row for you guys!’

“However,” she says after a beat, voice finally starting to show the tiniest bit of caution. You realize that your face has begun to contort on its own. “I am starting… to get vibes. That I maybe should have run that by you first? Would now be a bad time to let you know that I told them about the afterparty, too?”

Utter disbelief. The only reason you don’t leap on her once you fully comprehend what she’s said is because Gawon, who’d been watching this entire exchange with quiet brown eyes, puts a hand on your shoulder. She must be able to tell that you’re about to start freaking out, because her therapist-voice is fully activated when she clears her throat.

“Can I ask what's so surprising about this?” she asks carefully. “When we were telling Aegon about how many tickets we each wanted, you said you only needed one. For your brother, right?”

You thought of the ticket, the little envelope you’d held under your pillow for weeks as you fought with the idea of actually giving it to Mark. In the end, a few days ago, when you handed it to him and told him he could come watch you perform if he wanted to, he smiled so big that you felt bad for waiting so long in the first place. But you’d then quickly explained the caveat: that he was not to tell any of the others about it, because there was only one ticket and you didn’t want them hassling you about getting more. And Mark agreed.

Which is why you’d dared to assume that tonight would be safe.

“Yes,” you mutter. “The ticket was for him.”

“Which means you’re not surprised he’s here. So are his friends the problem?”

“The problem?”

You pause. That word makes it seem like their appearance here is actually detrimental to you in some way, like they’re just here to hassle or bully you or something, but that’s not really it at all. Your annoyance at them being here is rooted in the exact opposite. They’re not going to joke around and take it easy, or pat you on the back and tell you that you did well, like how they would if they’d come to watch one of their friends dance. They’re going to swarm you and coo and treat you like a five year old that just stumbled through their first ballet recital.

And as if that isn't bad enough, you realize with a start that you've actually got more to worry about than just being embarrassed by their innate need to baby you.

They, you remember yet again. Plural.

You quickly fix your doomsday-esque expression. "Uh. No, no problem, just... I'm over-exaggerating, forget it, Somi, when you said they, how many are we talking exactly?"

"Seven," she says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you fight to keep your shoulders from sagging. "The three from the car, your brother, and three others I don't really know as well, but who're all just as cute."

Seven. Which means Lee Jeno will be in the audience as well. You should've already known that, fully aware that wherever Mark goes Jeno will follow, but you'd been so startled by the change in attendance that you'd momentarily forgotten that you were pointedly avoiding one of that seven.

Great.

A click echoes over the announcement system. You recognize the voice that follows as the organizer of the showcase, the cheerful woman from the promotional video, happily informing all the performers to head to their greenrooms for final warm-ups before the show.

Well. Even if you wanted to mope for longer about your predicament, your mind switches lanes to the task at hand. Somi and Gawon both titter excitedly at the update, but make sure to quickly give their final reassurances about not worrying too much about the people in the audience and using that energy to give your all on stage. They’re right of course, and you probably would have come to this conclusion on your own once you swallowed your knee-jerk reaction to gripe about everything involving your brother and his friends, but you can’t say that their enthusiasm doesn't do the heavy lifting of bringing you back to earth.

You've got a competition to rock, after all. You could worry about everything else after.

Adrenaline made the hour-long showcase go by in what seemed like fifteen seconds. 

Just like that, a short chapter of your life closed with a bang; seven minutes on the stage, deafening cheers, Jiara and Guyeon pulling everyone into one big sweaty hug as soon as you were all out of the spotlight— then you blink and you’re in Gawon’s car with the windows down blasting down Gangnam on the way to Somi’s house, the girls in the seats around you singing along to the radio at the top of their lungs. The sun is setting, you’re heading to your celebratory afterparty, and what should be a picture-perfect moment is completely ruined by the fact that your mind has been in shambles for the last hour and a half. Why?

Because as you inch closer and closer to Somi’s penthouse, all you can think about is the fact that Lee Jeno is sitting up there biding his time before he can stomp your heart into a million more microscopic pieces.

What you didn’t mention about the moments after the performance was that, after rushing through changing out of your performance outfit to find your friends and get the hell out of there, you stumbled out of the greenroom to find a person. A person who was frowning out in the corridor like some sort of mopey ghost, Jeno in all his annoyingly perfect glory, caught mid-pace.

Upon seeing him your body rebooted, a hundred different emotions flashing through your system from the shock of him appearing in front of you at that moment. The only thing you had time to notice before his words ruined the rest of your afternoon was how… fidgety he was; Running his hand through his hair, rocking from foot to foot, crossing and uncrossing his arms over his chest. You’d always taken note of how still Jeno could be sometimes, not moving an inch for seemingly hours at a time, which was the main reason his current inability to stay still even caught your eye— but it was quickly overtaken by the utter despair you felt not soon after he caught sight of you and opened his mouth.

“Can we talk?” he’d asked. And he’d sounded so unsure of himself that you almost instantly crumbled to the puppy-dog eyes, before reality grabbed you by the neck and you remembered that talking to him was actually the last thing you wanted to be doing right now. 

“Busy,” you’d forced out. “My friends are waiting for me outside.”

But he must’ve seen this coming because he looked nonplussed as you took a step back, his own feet matching yours stride for stride, hands coming out almost as if to calm you like one might a spooked horse.

“It won’t take longer than a few minutes,” he tried, “Five minutes, just five. I just— I really, really want to clarify a few things from Saturday. What I said on the balcony.”

He said it like there was a chance you might’ve forgotten what happened, which almost made you laugh in disbelief. Like it was possible to forget that shitshow, your first love telling you that he was kind of interested in you once upon a time, but did nothing about it because your brother came first. Though, once you fully realized that he meant he wanted to talk about that right now, the moment lost its humor.

Now? Here? You glanced up and down the hallway. Your friends weren’t around, nor were his, but you were hardly alone.

“I wasn’t being entirely—”

“You're going to the party, aren’t you?” You cut Jeno off. Very unlike you when it came to him, and with the way he blinked you had a feeling he knew that too.

“The party?” 

“Somi said she invited you guys.”

“I— I wasn't sure you wanted me to come.”

“Somi invited you, Lee. Is that any way to treat your hostess? We can—” You swallowed. “Come by, and we can find a minute to talk then, but for now I really—”

“Have to go,” he finished with a small wince. “Got it.”

And once he’d metaphorically let you go, taking a step back to slip his hands in his pockets, you’d all but run away; finding Guyeon and Gawon waiting for you like they said they’d be, ready to leave and head to Alice’s house to pretty-up for the party in her gigantic flat. You were trying your best to keep up the energy when you got into the car with them, laughing along to their jokes and dancing along to the music, but you couldn’t stop thinking of what type of curbstomp Jeno was about to release on the suffering remains of your sixteen year-old feelings. 

Even up until the final touches of your make-up, you were commiserating. What the hell could he possibly want to clarify? 

Was he going to tell you to stop being weird around him and the others, because your mood was fucking up their vibe? To stop avoiding him so obviously, that it was as noticeable for everyone as it felt for you, that it was making it awkward for him?

Or could he mean that he was going to tell you he’d… misspoken? That he’d never really liked you the way you liked him, and didn’t want you to misunderstand— by interested in you he meant in the way all guys were interested in all girls, some lowly, surface level thing that he quickly got over when he realized his friendship with your brother could be jeopardized by it?

The last thought had stung a little more than the others, and you’d accidentally frowned so hard about it that it creased your still-setting concealer and had to wipe it all off.

After angrily redoing your base you’d forced it from your mind and got dressed, stealing a simple henley dress from Gawon’s closet upon realizing that you were not in the mood for sexy-cute like Somi had said the dress code was. Instead you opted for ‘hey, you can see my legs and that's good enough,’ and huffed your old leather jacket on top of it; the latter was sure to piss her off but she still owed you from the Mosquito Boy Incident, so she could kick rocks about it for all you cared. 

You had a feeling that no matter what you wore, tonight wasn’t going to be very sexy-cute at all.

The party is just getting into the swing of things when you make it upstairs. It’s like the explosion of a birthday surprise when you and the girls walk through the door. This party is technically a celebration, and you guess a lot of these people must’ve been in the Aegon audience without you knowing it, because you’re getting congratulations and kudos and pats on the back like you’ve just won an olympic medal.

But your pride is short lived, tainted by a bolt of nerves when you think you spot someone that looks like Donghyuck in your periphery. Where Hyuck is, Jeno will be.

It turns out to only be a very tall girl with a pixie cut who winks at you when you whirl your head to her, but the stress of it doesn't ebb away. God. Is the whole night going to be like this? Walking on pins and needles until he finds you?

“You know, new girl,” A voice starts at your side, startling you further, “Your ice breaker back at that my party could’ve been that you’re a kick-ass dancer, instead of that bullshit with the mosquitos.”

Wooyoung. Your friends are suddenly nowhere to be seen when your turn to him, clearly having fucked off into the mass the second alcohol became available, so it’s just the both of you hovering over by this snack table. Though this is only the second or third time you’ve interacted with him past a greeting (you see him sometimes on campus, and he always waves at you like you’re best friends when you pass each other), you’re actually rather soothed by his presence. 

“You wanted to know juicy secrets, not secret hobbies. If you asked me for an ice breaker and I told you I could dance, you would’ve kicked me out of that house.”

He laughs, a snickering sound, before eyeing two jello-shots a girl walks by with in her hands.

“Do a shot with me?” he pouts. “My friends are running late and I’m still painfully sober.”

A shot?  

...Hm. A shot. Inebriation. You’re not one to like straight liquor because the burn in your throat is often more than you think the gag is worth. But if you’re looking to relax sooner rather than later… the pain might not be without its merit. 

Liquid courage. Something you could definitely use right now, as skittish as you’re being. Maybe he’s onto something.

“Just one?” you pique, turning to survey the options. “Thought you were more hardcore than that, VP.”

One jello-shot quickly turns into four with Wooyoung involved, and your mouth is sweet with the taste of artificial dye by the time you actually spot Donghyuck, over by Somi’s balcony doors chatting up some pretty girl you recognize from your physical education class. The volleyball player. Xiaoting or something close, and you almost snort at the sight because she seems way out of his league. But he has a way with words that you guess you could be attractive when he wields it with flirtation in mind, instead of the intent to piss off like he always does with you.

The Smirnoff burning in your stomach must already be settling in because you only mildly bristle when you see him. Like you thought earlier: Hyuck is here, which means Jeno is here. And… and the Smirnoff must’ve already hit your brain, actually, because all of a sudden you’re feeling agitated and confrontational.

You don’t want to spend all night worrying about when he’s going to find you and drop the bomb. So what if he doesn’t like you! So what if he probably wants to forget the moment that happened out on that balcony never occurred at all? You lived your life without yearning over Jeno for years before you moved back here, so it won’t even be that hard to go cold-turkey when he says what he needs to and inevitably squashes the remainder of your heart in his fist. It’s fine. You’ll live.

You just need to rip it off like a bandaid first. And to do that?

“Hey, Woo, I think I need to go and look for somebody. You’re still down for that dance battle later?”

“I don’t play around with my challenges,” he says, grinning much too wide, “I’ll find you later, and then it’s on. Knock em’ dead, new girl.”

As bold as you suddenly are, you actually don’t want to go and interrupt whatever Donghyuck has going on just to ask him where Jeno is. So you’re on your own for a little, scanning the walls for him and the stupid clavicles poking out of his button-up, hair all windswept and eyes so dark. It’s nearly a minute of searching before you see something familiar— but it’s not exactly what you’re looking for.

Close enough, though. 

It seems like Na Jaemin has actually spotted you first, since he’s already heading towards you when you spot his head of pink darting through the crowd. You don’t fuss when he musses your hair and gasps over the competition, applauding you in that sickeningly earnest way he always has, since you’re used to his preening and compliments. Not to say you’re not appreciative. It always makes your face hot when he coos over you like this. But you’ve got a mission in mind, and fretting at him over the pouting and cheek-squeezing will get you nowhere.

“Yes, thank you, I did hear you cheering over everyone else at the end, no I wasn’t hiding my swag from you on purpose, thank you, you can stop pretending to cry now. Where is Jeno?”

The idea of you looking for Lee Jeno on purpose must startle him, because there’s a second after his clear offense at you brushing him off where he registers what you’re asking for and actually looks a little concerned. “Jeno? No-Jam? Why? Did he say something to you?”

“What? No, I just need to talk to him about something. Thought he’d be hanging around you.”

Imperceptibly, Jaemin lightens. 

“Oh. He’s downstairs hefting handles out of Somi’s car, because blondie forgot half the drinks in her trunk. He got volunteered by Chenle as Mr. Muscles and left with her like five minutes ago, so he should be back any minute.”

Damn it. Forlornly, you glance at the door, but there's nothing. No movement. Nada. There goes all your building bravado.

“But before he returns, young lady, should we talk about how that red tinge to your lips better be from the non-alcoholic jello-shots?”

Ah. Whoops. Not only no movement, but now you’ve gotten yourself trapped in the sights of Na Jaemin, who likes to pretend to be staunch on things like laws and teenage innocence and waiting to do things until the government says you’re allowed to. You constantly forget that you’re not yet the drinking age, because no college student handing out drinks at a party ever gives a fuck about the fact that you’re legally not quite legal yet. No other college student besides the one standing in front of you.

“You’ll stunt your growth if you drink before you’re supposed to!”

To this you glance at the cup he’s holding, clearly half full of something, and nearly go to laugh and ask him what his excuse is since he’s barely 21 himself, but then you think of something funnier. Without really thinking about it you snatch the cup from his hand and hork it down. Your eyes are locked with his the entire time so you get to see his surprise grow into shock, then expand into disbelief as you chug, and chug, and chug.

There’s a lot of… some peach flavored crap in here, burning like murder all the way down, to the point that you’re more bewildered than smug when the cup is finally drained because, “Fuck, Na, what is that shit? Are you trying to black out?” 

“Language!” he hisses, genuinely startled for the first time you’ve seen in a long time, which makes you laugh, “And of course not because that wasn’t mine, you little brat! I was holding that for Somi!"

“Oh,” you reply, only mildly shifted by this news. Sorry, Som. Now you know it must be peach Schnapps. She loves Schnapps. “What, so you’re not drinking tonight at all? Are you DD?”

“No! I’m not drinking, and I’m offended that you don’t already know I hate the taste of alcohol. Mark, who may I remind you is in this room and would’ve just shit himself if he’d seen what you just did, is playing designated driver tonight! He’s…”

And as he glances towards the kitchen you follow his gaze. You’re expecting to see your brother, most likely laughing over something his friends are saying, maybe even trying to dance-battle someone if he's having a particularly good time. Instead you see your brother chatting up Jeon Soyeon. 

Jeon… Soyeon. Nabi Bar, Jeon Soyeon. Who you haven’t spoken to or even seen since that awful night in Gangnam.

And you nearly gasp in terror at the sight.

Jaemin doesn't finish his sentence, and you dart your eyes to him when you realize this. He doesn’t look very pleased by what he’s seeing either, though you’re guessing for an entirely different reason than the one that’s just made you go cold.

“What?” you ask a little too quickly. The front door opens, which should be your cue to look for who’s just come in, but you can’t tear your eyes from the sight of Soyeon and Mark. What the fuck? What the fuck? “Do they know each other?” 

“Know each other?” Jaemin scoffs. “Hard to quantify.”

It would be very, very bad for you if they knew each other. Very bad. If not already clear, Mark still had no clue you weren’t where you said you were on the night of Nabi Bar. If she happened to mention your involvement in that shity, shitty idea, you had no doubt that Mark would go all holier-than-thou on you in front of all these people, and that you’d probably have to dive off of the balcony to escape the reaming.

He doesn’t look particularly comfortable, near pressed up against kitchen island because Soyeon is so close to him, hand rubbing at the back of his neck in that way you’re well aware means he’s getting flustered; but you see him laugh at something she says in the next second, and it doesn’t seem like his fake laugh. Mark’s fake laugh is terrible, and even from a distance you can spot it like the flashing lights on an ambulance, a beacon of distress just the same. So he’s laughing for real, at something… Soyeon is saying?

But you hardly recall her being very funny. 

“What does that mean, hard to quantify? Do they have history?”

“Something like that,” he murmurs. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Anyway, I think Jeno is—”

“You never look at anyone with any kind of attitude, and just now you rolled your eyes at her.”

“I didn’t roll my eyes. I blinked. For a long time. Something in my eye. Dusty in here.”

“Somi has this place deep cleaned twice a week.”

He stares at you like he’s begging you to drop it. You stare back, unwilling. “You know, Na, the longer you stall, the more time that all this illegal alcohol in my blood has to make me more bold and reckless and unruly. If I don’t get an answer from you I might just go over there and ask her myself. How do they know each other?”

You’re bluffing, of course— there’s no way you’re about to go over there just to see what they’re talking about when you could safely squeeze that information out of Jaemin instead. In reality, you were only pressing because you wanted to know if they were close enough for Soyeon to know you and Mark were related. If not? Then perfect! You’d forget it all and be on your merry way, reverting back to your original plan of finding Jeno, because there’d be no chance Soyeon could spill the beans. 

But if Soyeon does know? You might have to leave this party a little earlier than scheduled. 

“You want the whole, grown-up truth?” Jaemin finally relents.

“Might I remind you for the hundredth time that I’m only a year younger than you?”

“A year and a half,” he acquiesces with a sigh, “And Jeon Soyeon may or may not have slept with your brother to get him to do their midterm project last year.”

It comes out like he’s reading the headline from a newspaper and you made the mistake of swallowing right before he opens his mouth, choking violently on your own spit. He pats you on the back as you hack and cough before continuing.

“None of us are really sure about exactly what really happened because Mark kind of shut down after, wouldn’t tell us anything. But it was pretty clear he liked her before. She’s kinda his type, you know?” 

Edgy, pretty, and fucking evil, yeah, after having to chase a few of them away in high school you’re well aware of his type! This was not what you wanted to know about when you asked if they were close! What the hell?

“He told us they’d gone all the way right before she asked him to do their entire music production project because she was too busy caring for her sick little sister. He, being the bleeding heart he is, pretty much refused to listen to us about how convenient the timing was; he even got mad when Chenle did some sleuthing and found out that Soyeon’s parents facebook, which was filled to the brim of photos of their family, didn’t have any trace of another kid in their midst besides her. Wouldn’t believe us until after the project was turned in, when he tried to meet up with her for weeks and she ghosted him every time.”

He frowns. “At the end of it, he wasn’t… It wasn’t good. He was pretty crushed.”

Now you regret chugging his drink for fun. Even before it you’d been feeling further than chill, pleasant and buzzing from your shots, well prepared for whatever hell was to arise with Jeno. Now you felt loose; too loose, fingertips tingling at your sides because of this news, heart pounding in your chest, body so warm from the alcohol that you felt like Jaemin would hiss if he’d laid a finger on your skin.

To play games with you, that’s one thing. But Soyeon has laid her hands on your brother?

“And, knowing all of that,” you say slowly, clearly, “You’re still letting him sit there and talk to her?”

“I want to kick her away,” Jaemin says flatly. “I’d be lying if I said I trust that girl as far as I can throw her. But it’s not really up to us to get involved.”

“Who is us?”

“His friends? I mean he was pretty clear when it happened that he did not want to talk about it—”

You bark a laugh, but there’s no humor to it at all. “So he can pout and gripe about the sanctity of discussing your problems with people, the embarrassing, the horrifying, but when it comes to him he gets to keep secrets? Forget how hypocritical that is, you guys are listening?”

Jaemin, finally, seems to catch the heat in your words. “Uh. He told… I mean, before you get all up in arms, she may be over there apologizing for all we know. Maybe she’s repenting.”

You both stare at her as she tips her head back in laughter, the salacious flirty kind where you’re more focused on being attractive than actually enjoying the joke, before she puts her hand on his chest in a, ‘Wow, you’re so funny, take me now,’ kind of way, leaning in to say something to him that she clearly doesn’t want anyone else to hear. Every hair on your body stands up when Mark doesn’t push her away.

He’s not seriously buying her shit again, is he? 

“Jaemin, are you willing to bet your life on that?”

“What?”

“Everything you just said about Soyeon. You know that for fact?”

“Well, no, Mark didn’t actually tell us about it so I can never be sure, but… but with what we could gather, it was pretty cut and dry. Chenle actually also found out she had a boyfriend at the same time she did all that stuff with Mark. We just couldn’t bear to tell him that after the fact, so we never… Hey, where—”

You’re sober enough to make it through the throng of people without stumbling, but not sober enough to fully anticipate what you’re really about to do. The goal is just to separate them, somehow, to get that harlot away from your brother, and then you’ll go and deal with Jeno. If people greet you as you pass you don’t hear or see it; all you can grasp is her, touching him, laughing with him, cheating, lying, people-using—

“Mark,” you nearly hiss, “I need to talk to you. Now.”

Mark jumps a foot in the air when you grab him but Soyeon, for some reason, doesn’t look surprised to see you in the slightest. She does, however, raise a sharp blonde eyebrow at your tone.

“What,” Mark splutters, “Right now?”

“Yeah,” Soyeon sighs, continuing to trail her eyes up and down Mark’s face instead of looking at you, “The grown-ups are talking, sweetheart. Can’t you give us a second?”

Mark turns back to the sensual softness of her voice like a moth to a flame, and you want to smack him. “No. Not a second now, not a second later, not a second tomorrow or forever. Now, Mark.”

And that was where you made the mistake that turned this whole night sour. Only when Soyeon realizes it’s her you have a problem with, catching on from the agitation in your tone that you’re not just here to bother Mark for fun, does she slide her unreadable gaze to you. 

“You know I haven’t seen you in a while, Little Lee.”

“For the better,” you mutter. “Seriously—”

“I was so surprised when Yuqi told me you two were related.” 

She’s talking to Mark but looking at you, eyes squinted a little, like someone analyzing a germ under a microscope. So she does know. Great. “I couldn’t believe that this girl was the same little star you used to tell me about when I met her. She’s grown up a lot, you know? Doesn’t take after you at all, Markie.”

“Soyeon,” you say again, “Let him go.”

“Why? So you can keep throwing your tantrum? Every time you open your mouth it gets harder and harder to see the resemblance. When you’re so…”

She doesn’t need to say it, and it’s honestly probably better that she didn’t, because you would’ve leapt at her if she’d gone as far as she’d been intending to dig with that comment. You’re aware you don’t resemble Mark, physically or otherwise— in accomplishment, in talent, in patience, in perfect unmarred reputation. You’re well fucking aware. 

“Soyeon,” Mark finally says, thankfully lurching a little in your direction like her evil witch's spell is finally wearing off, “I don’t think there’s any need for that, what the hell is going on? Do you two know each other?”

Soyeon opens her eyes comically wide. “You don’t know?”

And you feel Mark stop. What the hell are you doing, you want to scream. Why are you even pausing for this bullshit? Come on! But he doesn’t. He stands there and he stares at her, as if searching her face for any sign of truth, and Soyeon takes this as her cue.

“Little star is a big girl now! Her own fake ID, clinging along with her baby bottle to any club the adults want to go to, even catching her own ride home with any wasted guy that smiles in her direction! Don’t you live together? What a handful she must be if she can sneak out under your nose, Markie.”

The blood rushing in your ears makes it hard to tell if it’s only you that’s losing your hearing or if the rest of the people hanging around in the kitchen really have quieted to watch the rising altercation, but you don’t dare move your eyes from the girl to check. The baby bottle comment, outing your fake ID, all of that is rage inducing on its own— but it’s a cold, stomach twisting madness that grabs you when you latch on to the last part of what she’s just said. Catching your own ride home?

Was she referring to Yoobin?

Your fingers unfurl from Mark’s jacket.

“What do you mean, catch my own ride?”

Soyeon laughs. Under normal circumstances, it would be a pretty sound. “Did you think we didn’t see you leave? Blowing up our phones like there was some big emergency— We sent that guy out there to keep you the company you wanted so much, God, we got tired of babysitting you. You stopped calling and neither of you came back inside. What, cause your brother is here you’re going to try and soften it up now, huh? Tell us all you didn’t go home with that drunkard, when you love to tell people you’re no stranger to a bar?”

Yoobin, who grabbed you, touched you, tried to drive you home in his wasted state with clear intentions on what he wanted in return.

Yoobin, who Soyeon and Yuqi and their friends had sent, knowing you were panicked, knowing he made you uncomfortable, knowing you were looking for them.

Soyeon who stopped hearing from you and laughed it off. Soyeon who stopped hearing from you for days and didn’t bat an eye, knowing what she’d left you alone with.

Soyeon, who’s straight, pretty nose cracks under your fist in the same way Yoobin’s did, except this time you don’t run away when she screams and collapses and you realize what you’ve done. Except this time you hit her again— or you try to at least, lunging for her with your eyes ablaze, unsure what you’ll do when you get there but 100% sure it’ll hurt worse than a bloody fucking nose— but don’t quite get there, because someone has lifted you off the ground, two iron-bar arms wrapped like vices around your ribs, the worlds tightest back hug.

In your right mind you might’ve placed the sandalwood and the bergamot, or recognized the rolled up sleeves of his oversized button up, ivory and forest green, but as it stood—

As it stood, as you shouted and thrashed and fought, you only made out one thing.

Mark Lee, your own brother, helping Jeon Soyeon to her feet, two hands firm on her arms to hold her up; his surprised voice the last thing you hear before Lee Jeno hauls you out of that house.

“Wow, Soyeon. Is that true?”

(”Rockstar is going to wallop that girl,” Donghyuck mutters, staring at you like they all are from behind the pillar separating the kitchen from the living room, alerted to the worsening confrontation by a sheepish Jaemin.

“No she won’t," Jaemin tries, clearly feeling guilty, "She knows better than that.”

“She’s gone still. And I’ve never, ever seen her eyes that wide before.”

“That’s control. It’s restraint. She’s not going to hit her.”

Renjun, then, “If you really believe that then why do you look so nervous?”

“Her fist is balled up,” Jisung comments quietly.

“It’s restraint!”

“You weren’t there the day that she knocked the socks off of Park Gyubin, right? When he tried lifting her friend’s skirt up in the cafeteria?”

“She…” Jaemin glances at Donghyuck, “She’s tried to fight men before?”

“Tried to? I thought she was going to kill him. Y/N hit him so hard he had to get his retainer refitted. She’s got a right hook like her brothers. I bruise when she hits me, you know.”

Renjun again, “Why do you sound so proud of that?”

“She… Well, no, look, look! She let go of Mark. They have to be deescalating, she—”

“Does deescalating usually involve getting closer to the object of your anger?” Jisung asks.

“She—”

“Here it comes,” Chenle announces excitedly.

And then Jeno is across the room.)

Jeno realizes before you do that you’re not going back home tonight.

His apartment looks the same. Obviously. It’s only been three weeks since you were last here. Like before, Jeno doesn’t bother with the lights, kicking his shoes off in the entryway the same way, except this time you have two shoes of your own to place next to them instead of the sad and lonely single. Three weeks ago, but it feels like it’s only been a day or two since you did this whole song and dance; following him to the bathroom, sitting on the counter as he stoops under to rummage through his first-aid bin, gritting your teeth when he rubs your knuckles with the antiseptic, smiling weakly when he apologizes for the sting.

You’d cried in his car.

When Jeno carried you out of Somi’s apartment you thought the stinging in your eyes was just discombobulated rage. But when he set you down on your feet in the elevator and you began to come down from the adrenaline high, the burning just intensified as you understood what just happened. You’d only been able to keep the tears at bay until he told you to put your seatbelt on in his passenger seat and it all became too real. 

Though you’re not sober enough right now for it to feel like a problem yet, you know you’ll want to kill yourself tomorrow for allowing yourself to devolve in front of him like that no matter the circumstance. In the moment, you weren’t even entirely sure what you were crying about. Was it the craze of fury wearing off after punching Soyeon, and the jitters it left behind? Or the fact that even when Jeno was tugging you towards the elevator up there, you’d stood and waited for Mark to follow for nearly an entire minute, just for him to never come out? 

You’d like to chalk it up to adrenaline and inebriation, but deep down you knew exactly what it was that had your eyes brimming with those tears. 

He’d chosen Soyeon. The girl who’d lied to him, cheated with him, fucked him over for a grade and left you for dead on the streets of Gangnam, and he’d stayed in that house with her instead of coming out to check on you. And you weren’t really one to catastrophize, but how couldn’t that signal the definitive end of Mark putting up with your shit? The nail in the coffin of his patience with you?

You knew things had been rough lately with you moving in, the thread of butting heads over little things like curfews and the people you hung out with, but you hadn’t thought your relationship had deteriorated to the point that he’d ever… that he’d ever choose someone else. You’re his sister. No matter how mad he is, he’s supposed to choose you. 

But he didn't. And in Lee Jeno’s passenger seat, like a giant baby, you cried about it. 

In proper Y/N fashion the only thing that had chuffed you into sucking it all up and swallowing it into the depths of your soul never to be seen again, was Jeno’s building appearing on the horizon. The threat of him asking you if you’re alright and actually having to confront those feelings was terrifying enough to jar you out of your self pity.

But he hadn’t asked you about your red eyes. He hadn’t said anything, actually. He just tugged you out of the car and into the elevator. Herded you into his apartment. And tipped his head towards his bathroom just like before, except this time he was smiling. In the soft, polite kind of way that let you know he was well aware of what just transpired in his car, but was simply... letting it be.

(And you always knew Jeno was rather observant. But man, the thought behind that smile could’ve made you burst into tears all over again.)

On the counter, holding out your hand for the steps that would never come, you blinked back to the present when Jeno stopped at the healing salve. You’d been waiting for him to bust out the gauze again, already lamenting the next week of your life with the itchy fabric tight around your wrist, but all Jeno does is raise an eyebrow at you when you don’t hop off of the sink after he puts the kit away.

“What are you waiting for?” he asks.

You blink down at your hand, shiny with the balm, and then back up at him. “The rest of it.”

“The wrap? I didn’t think you needed it.”

“But that’s what you did last time I was here.”

“Because the last time you were here you didn’t know how to punch someone properly. It looked like you got her the right way this time. When I was tugging at that wrist in the elevator just now you hardly seemed to notice, when you could barely close your fist a few weeks ago.”

…Oh. Only as he mentions it do you roll your hand around in its socket, flexing your fingers under the bathroom light. Your knuckles look like shit, the newly forming bruises and angry skin, but it doesn’t actually ache like it did that night with Yoobin.

Well you’ll be damned. So straightening your wrist really does work.

“Oh,” you mumble. “I guess I don’t. Wasn’t really thinking about it.”

“Of course you weren’t. Probably thinking about what you wanted to eat, right?”

“What I— What?”

What you wanted to eat? When did you discuss that you were hungry?

“Heard your stomach grumbling in the car, so I’m assuming you haven’t eaten since before the competition. There’s a pizza place down the street that I think you’d like, a jajangmyeon shop too, but their delivery takes ages. It’s up to you.”

You stare at him, clearly not following. Jeno is relaying this to you like tonight was planned, as if it was always in the cards for you to be hanging out at his place tonight like a couple of pals, leaning against the door with his arms crossed, the perfect picture of normalcy. He thinks you’re going to be here long enough to eat? He’s not planning to have you shipped out of here in the next half hour?

But then you realize that there isn’t really another place for you to be shipped to. Mark’s apartment is… not really an option. The idea of going back there tonight almost makes your stomach roll, actually.

But if you don’t go back, that doesn’t leave much in the realm of locations to hide out at. Somi’s brother is coming home tonight, she’d squealed as much this morning, and considering how rare it is that he’s not busy in other countries you abhor the idea of intruding on their reunification. You don’t have many other friends here that you’re close enough with to just show up at their place at 10PM unannounced, not that you’d want to given that your little spat with Soyeon is probably all over everyones instagram stories right now, and is surely the only thing they’ll want to talk about.

You don’t have very many options right now. And Jeno probably knew that from the moment he decided to bring you here. 

“Thinking pretty hard over there,” Jeno hums, “for what is supposed to be a two choice question. Unless you don’t want either?”

“Pizza is… fine.”

“Just fine, or actually good? I can check to see if there’s any—”

“It’s good, Lee.”

He smiles like he’s got you in the bag, and then stands up straight. “I’ll order it then.”

You nod emptily and make moves to follow him out of the bathroom, right on his tail, which is why you nearly crash into him when he whirls back around to stop you. “Oh. Almost forgot.”

“What? Forgot what?"

But you only grow more confused when Jeno speeds off towards his room without replying. There’s a creak and a shuffle, doors opening and closing before Jeno returns with a bundle of fabric bunched up in his arms.

“Can’t imagine it’ll be very comfortable to hang out in that dress all night.” 

He holds out the mass; what appears to be a heather gray hoodie and black sweatpants that, even bunched up like this, still look miles too long for you. He sees you eyeing it and you fear he’s going to do something awful, like politely offer to go and get you something else as if he hasn’t already done a hundred other things for you tonight, so you quickly oblige. Once you relieve him of the pile he laughs, tells you he’s going to put the order in for the pizza, and closes the door on the way out.

You stand there unmoving for much too long, the heap of fabric clutched to your chest.

There’s so much to unpack. Being here again. The fact that he was supposed to break your heart today instead of doing all of... this. How casual he’s being about it all. The brother-slash-bestfriend shaped elephant in the room. The clothes.

But, for the sake of not collapsing under the weight of all of that turmoil, you decide to just focus on the latter; the most immediate and least heart wrenching of the bunch. His clothes. You’re going to wear his clothes. 

Yet another of your old dreams coming to fruition in this apartment. Lucky you.

Jeno is laying across the long part of the couch when you exit the bathroom, footsteps making no noise because you’re padding along on top of the ankle hems. He’s dressed differently too; gone is the jeans and the ivory button up, in its place a black long sleeve and navy blue sweatpants just like yours, except his actually fit. He’s texting furiously on his phone when you round the corner, eyebrows furrowed with something like irritation before he sees your looming figure in the corner of his eye and looks up.

"I put an X-Men movie into the DVD player," he announces, squinting back down to his screen, "Couldn't think of a better time than now to finally get into it, since you'll be here to explain all the things I don't understand..."

But he trails off as he stares at his phone, eyebrows furrowing at something before he frowns and stands up. The look is gone when you shuffle towards the couch and he looks up again, smiling at you like you like nothing is wrong, before he says, "I need to make a call though. Start the movie, yeah? I'll be back before things get interesting."

You stare at him. Probably shouldn't miss the opening scene if you really want to 'get into it', you nearly say. But you've been on this earth for long enough to recognize when someone wants a little privacy.

You want to ask if it's Mark. If he's the one Jeno had been messaging back so agitatedly just now. But the fear of it not being him, Jeno instead just trying to sort something out with like, a truant project partner or something, makes you stuff it down again. It'll just make you look even more pitiful.

"Sure. Most of the intro is fan service anyway."

He opens his mouth like he's about to say something else but then his phone starts to ring and he only smiles tightly at you instead. Then he's gone down the corridor, into his bedroom, and when the ringtone finally stops you can barely hear his voice much less make out what he's saying. Hm.

A different day and you might've snuck off after him to eavesdrop just to see for yourself. But after tonight?

You simply watch him go, and then tumble onto his couch with the exhaustion of someone who's just run up and down the building a dozen times.

You don't even have the strength to reach over for the TV remote; you just lay there and revel in the softness of the cushions, and at how tired you suddenly feel. Rehearsal all morning, giving it your all on stage, the energy-leeching atmosphere of a house party, the alcohol sagging through your veins. Not to mention the emotional confusion. Crying always takes it out of you.

So it's no wonder that you forgo turning the movie on to just take a moment to breathe in the pleasantly dark living room, closing your eyes for what you intended to be a brief second, just to gather the last bits of your patience and sanity for the night ahead... only to fall victim to what happens to most people when they say they're just resting their eyes.

You fall asleep. 

At least for a little while, you do. A brief, dreamless, blissful unconsciousness.

It’s so blissful in fact, that when you’re startled back to life by a knock at the front door a few minutes later— blinking the haze out of your eyes and seeing Jeno’s ceiling instead of your own, understanding with a sinking hopelessness that you’re not waking from a nightmare, that all of tonight has really happened— the dread is almost crushing when it all comes back.

But there isn't even any time to mourn. Because you realize that if someone's just knocked on the door, like the good homeowner he is, Jeno will be out here any second now to open it. He'll come out here and he'll see you and you'll be sucked right back into that nightmare, pretending like everything is fine when you both know that tonight was supposed to go so, so differently. Sitting next to each other and eating next to each other and attempting small talk for the sake of keeping things civil until you can escape this place in ten hours.

The idea almost gives you hives. You can't do it. You can't. There has to be another way. What if you make something up? A sore throat? A sudden headache?

But there's no time to think of anything fancy because in the next second Jeno's bedroom door clicks open down the hall, and panic flies up in your throat.

So you do the only think you can fathom. Before he can come around the corner and see you freaking out, you fling yourself back over and pretend to still be dead asleep.

As foolish as you immediately feel, it must work at least a little bit; you hear him come into the living room, hesitate, and then continue on past the couch on lighter steps as if worried about making too much noise. You even steady your breathing when he’s opening the door for the pizza guy— smooth inhale, smooth exhale, spaced just far enough to replicate what someone sounds like when they’ve been out for a while.

Shit. Will this actually work?

When he closes the door and the room falls to silence your heart picks up a little bit. What is he doing? Is he staring at you, trying to see if you’re faking?

Is he wondering if he should wake you up to eat? Oh, God! What if—

“Are you up?” he whispers. And you almost choke trying to swallow down the instinctual response that rises in your throat.

With surprisingly great effort, you do nothing. Say nothing. You don’t even stir. You just pray to whatever God is out there that Jeno will take the hint, eat his pizza at the kitchen island, leave you out here and go to bed. You get excited when you hear his steps again and think he’s going to pass the couch straight, but of course a second later you feel the couch dip somewhere off behind your back and you nearly curse.

“Guess not,” Jeno mumbles. "I forgot that you knock out so easily."

A few more seconds of what feels like an endless quiet, only his shuffling making sound; through your squeezed-shut eyes you see the light of the TV flicker like he’s just changed the channel, and with it you hear what must be the intro to a gameshow or something— excited chatter, ringing bells, audience cheers. But the volume is turned down so low that it feels like the show is playing in another room. Is he keeping the volume low because of you?

Is he… going to stay out here? 

“So you won’t mind if I think out loud,” he says suddenly, and your eyes nearly fly open in surprise. What? 

But he sounds serious. “Like a test run, almost. For what I wanted to talk about earlier at Aegon. Since I still don’t really know what the hell I’m going to say even after losing sleep over it all week, and I know you’ll try to stop me if you’re awake. I should just try it now, right?”

Try it... now?

Your fake deep-breathing almost hitches in panic when you realize what he’s getting at. Sweet God, please, no. What he wanted to talk about earlier? He wants to get into that now?

“Jaemin scolded me for springing it on you like that after your showcase, by the way. I didn’t realize that I might’ve cornered you until later and I’m sorry about that. I just really, really wanted to talk. Because I didn’t before, and everything got all…” he sighs, heavily. “I’m thankful that you told me to get lost earlier, because I think I can explain it better, like this. I can start from the beginning. I know how thorough you are about things like this.”

You hear the beep of a digital watch somewhere in his house as your face scrunches up in confusion. It's officially midnight, if the watch is making noise to denote the hour, but the realization of the time only comes second to the slow bewilderment slipping through your gloom.

From the beginning? The beginning of what? What the hell does any of that have to do with firmly rejecting you?

“Before we met, because of the way Mark talked about you, I had this idea in my head that you’d be some sort of perfect, flawless angel. That you’d be a little version of him; neat and proper and just a little bit naive, too nice for your own good. A rule follower.”

He laughs at this, a genuine laugh at the memory, and your frown deepens in embarrassment. “Then I actually laid my own eyes on you for the first time, and I realized I couldn’t have been more off.”

You remember it clearly, the first time you’d made a fool out of yourself in front of him and the rest of Mark’s friends. Fourteen years old, running inside the house after walking home from class with your own crew; you’d completely forgotten that you were supposed to bring your skateboard and a change of clothes to school because you all planned to ride around the park that day, the first warm afternoon after a mushy spring, and they said if you didn’t come back out in sixty seconds or less they’d leave you in the dust. So you stormed into the house, past the living room with all of them in it without even a glance or greeting since you hadn’t realized it wasn’t just your brother in there, hurled off your uniform in favor of your outfit staples at the time— an oversized tee that you stole from Mark, hand-me-down cargo shorts that also came from your brother’s closet, and your most cherished possessions: a Yankees baseball cap and your beat-up blue Nikes. 

But you couldn’t find your skateboard and the clock was running out, so you howled down the staircase, “If you moved my skateboard again from where I put it I’m going to kill you in your sleep!” only for Mark to shout back up, “It’s a tripping hazard! It’s in the hallway closet! And aren’t you grounded right now? Where are you even going? Does mom know?”

You hadn’t replied. Just snatched the board from where he said he’d stashed it, barreled back down the stairs, and was fully preparing to toss your brother some half-assed explanation, but then you’d seen him. Seen them. Mark’s new school friends, all lounging on your living room couch, staring at you as if you’d come into the room with a bomb. Lee Jeno (who’s name you’d only later find out) appeared the most stunned by your tornado-like appearance. 

You could only imagine what they were seeing. Some rowdy tomboy, technically on house arrest but running out to wreak havoc on the town regardless, threatening to kill people in their sleep for tidying up. Exaggerated, obviously, but you remember being mortified halfway to Sunday by how cute they all were and that this was their first introduction to you— and in that mortification, sprinting out of the house without telling your brother anything at all.

You’d gotten a good scolding for that later.

“And it’s going to sound kind of stupid,” Jeno continues, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think you heard the smile in his voice, “But because of that, I got this idea in my head that Mark must’ve only been seeing you through those rose-tinted glasses. The type every older brother has for every younger sister, the ones that make everything they do look cute and miraculous and perfect even if they’re clearly evil to everyone else. Not saying I thought you were secretly some sort of demon or anything either, ‘cause I know you’d roll your eyes at me right now if you could. Just that the girl I saw that day was nowhere near the delicate little thing he’d described. And I got... curious. I started wondering what you were actually like.”

Your face is getting hot again. You’ve never, ever heard him speak this much in one sitting, and the idea of him ever paying this much attention to you is mind boggling. But you don’t let yourself lean into whatever feeling of hope is whistling through your head. 

So what if he made a game out of trying to separate your real traits from the things Mark got wrong about you six years ago? Sometimes you liked to make up season-long dramas about strangers you saw on campus. It doesn’t mean anything now. 

You want to scrunch into a ball. You aren’t sure how much more of this monologue you can handle, even despite the consequences of rolling over and breaking the facade just to get him to stop. The heat in your face is spreading to your neck, your stomach, every inch of your skin, it’s making your stomach churn with discomfort. 

“But then the next year you came to our school,” Jeno says with finality, like this is supposed to be some important distinction. “And it stopped being as casual of an interest. The months went by and at some point I stopped looking for you just to see if you were doing something Mark didn’t know about, and started looking for you just because I wanted to know what you were doing. We’d come over for movie night and while Hyuck and Jae argued for hours about what they did and didn’t want to watch, I’d be wondering if I’d get to see you. You probably won’t remember this, but one of those nights I even ordered an extra curry bowl just so I’d have an excuse to knock on your door to tell you about it. And I thought that was a normal thing to do.” 

Jesus Christ. Do you remember? Of course you remember! You’d been reading at your desk with your headphones in, which meant Jeno had to come all the way into your room to get your attention— tapping the side of your earbud with two gentle fingers, laughing all crescent-eyed at you when you yelped in surprise. The sight of him in your room for the first time was like a grenade going off in your tweenaged mind; you’d had to calm down for nearly an entire minute before going downstairs to get your food.

“I thought it was just Mark rubbing off on me. He cared so much about you that I thought my sudden interest was simply overprotection by relation— that he was the reason why I couldn’t stop looking for you. ‘Cause in my mind it couldn't be anything else but brotherly. Mark was pretty clear about what he thought of the people that liked you so I knew it couldn’t be that; I wasn’t stupid enough to let myself be interested in you like that. Right?” 

He laughs again, but it doesn’t sound nearly as sweet this time. “I’m rambling, huh?”

Yes, you are. You are. 

“I’ll cut to the ending then,” he replies like he’s read your mind. “I realized I did in fact ‘like you like that’, at our graduation.”

And your eyes pop open. It’s completely involuntary, and if you’d been facing him you would have been screwed. But you’re still looking deep into the cushions of the black couch; wide eyes staring into a deep, dark, nothing.

“I hid behind that brotherly excuse for three years. My eyes followed you in the hallway because I wanted to make sure you were okay like Mark would’ve wanted me to. I offered to drive you home from school when he was busy because that’s what Mark would’ve asked me to do anyway. Everything I wanted to do I told myself I was doing because I was just a good friend. You know?” A beat passes before he hums to himself. “But I guess you don’t, actually. Because you liked me authentically, like you do with everything. The night of our graduation, the backyard barbecue your parents threw for us. You remember that, right?”

Duh. You’d bawled your eyes out on the front porch halfway through because only then did it fully sink in that they’d all be leaving you behind, these losers you swore you didn’t even like, before wiping your face and moodily rejoining the celebration.

“Jaemin and Donghyuck were having fun like it was their last day on earth. Even Mark didn’t seem too worried about the fact that we’d be leaving our whole lives behind in a few weeks when we drove off to SNU. I asked him if he was going to miss anything and he listed a dozen things, the friends of ours that were going to different colleges, his parents cooking, his backyard, his bedroom, his electric keyboard. And I remember feeling frozen when he didn’t mention you. In hindsight I know that it was probably because he’d still be coming back home every break, and you had a whole year of high school to finish so it wasn’t like you were going anywhere, but at the moment I felt like someone just yanked the blanket off of me. Three years of pretending and it only took one conversation for it to smash through all of that and hit me like a truck. If Mark isn’t worried about it, why the hell has the idea of leaving you here been haunting me for the last week and a half?”

Oh.

“It was then, I think. That I went, ‘Ah. So this hasn’t all been because of Mark, then,’ and everything I’d ever done under the guise of brotherly obligation popped into context all at once. And as if it wasn’t enough being in my own head, I was still in the middle of talking to Mark as I realized that not only did I like you more than I’d ever liked anyone— I was looking directly at the person who would surely strangle me to death if he ever found out that I liked you more than I’d ever liked anyone. So I pretended it never happened. I said ‘yeah, me too,’ the party ended, I went home, the summer went on, and before I knew it I was on campus and had a million other things to worry about. I saw how well you seemed to be doing when Mark would show me your Instagram posts, how much fun you were having, and I let that make me feel better about being such a coward. Over time, without you around, I convinced myself that things were better like this. That it never would have worked out anyway.”

There’s a moment of silence so utterly long that for a moment you genuinely think that this is going to be it. That he’s going to have said all of that and just… sighed, gotten up, and gone to sleep, leaving you alone to be in misery over what you’ve just heard until morning.

But that’s not it. He’s got a few more words for you. The worst of them all. A string of syllables at first, ones that instantly shatter every bit of emotional resistance you’ve built for yourself these last few days— and then a sentence that has your blood turning to ice in your veins when you realize what it means.

“But then you came back to Seoul,” Jeno started simply, “And a lot of things I thought I knew for sure don’t feel quite as concrete anymore.”

You inhaled. 

You exhaled. 

And tried to understand what the fuck that last part was supposed to mean.

But then before you could he continued on, his voice soft, casual, innocent. Too innocent. “Like how I used to be sure that you snored when you were sleeping,” he murmured. “Has it been so long that I've forgotten? Or are you not actually asleep, Rockstar?”

[♥︎]: and there it is, folks! please leave a like if you enjoyed! it REALLY gives me the motivation to work on this faster!

[portgasdwrld]

hi! can you write about what ace would do if reader have trouble sleeping? They’re not in a relationship but there’s smth going on. He’d see her several nights outside on the ship when he’s on watch duty and he’s sorta worried

Seasick

✧.* sleepless nights/ GN!reader x Ace

✧.* no warning, fluff

✧.*Im not sure if you wanted y/n to not be able to sleep because of their feelings for Ace and him not knowing. Anyways 🍃I added a bit of both

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Your eyes are staring off at the sea as you watch the waves collapse in each other embrace and the moon guiding the boat through the darkness of the night. The ship is rocking against the water to the snoozes of the early one who fell asleep as your body is leant towards the rail where your arms find support. Your eyes are heavy but your mind is too occupied to allow you to sleep.

Questions about life, about your existent, your goals are flooding your thoughts like it never did before. You find yourself doubting everything even your friends and yourself too. Life just seem so too confusing right now. Your heart is everywhere but nowhere at the same time.

You sigh as you extend your hand to the horizon as if you could catch the sea in your hand. You smile foolishly to yourself as you let it fall down again on the rail.

This night is cold and windy.

With all that, you haven’t notice Ace slowly approaching you. You only notice when you feel a blanket on your shoulders and his cologne charming your senses. You stare at him with tired eyes as you mumble your gratitude before looking away.

-What is keeping you awake so late?

He starts with a slightly worried expression as he joins you in your staring. You scoff a little before addressing him your attention once again.

- I can’t sleep.

-You haven’t been sleeping well for quite some time..

-How do you know ?

-I have been on night-watch this last few days, dummy..but really what’s going on?

You don’t answer as you let his word sink in. You haven’t been sleeping good for days and he is right. You don’t even know why you feel the way you do, maybe it’s because of how your heart feel sick next to him, how your head feel dizzy. He was making you feel seasick.

-Im just caught up in my head, we all have those moments, right?

Ace opens his mouth to speak, but a harsh blow of the wind makes you flinch. He’s quick to catch the blanket and quickly put it back on you. But, he notices how your body is affected by the weather.

-Let me warm you up

He says as he softly takes your forearm and pulls you in, so he’s back hugging you. You close your eyes for a moment enjoying the warmth of his body and the feeling of dizziness slowly creeps up.

You feel his arms hold you tighter against his chest and the feeling of dizziness becomes unbearable as your heart beats faster. Your body relaxes against his familiar energy and a yawn leaves your lips as you feel sleepy.

-You make me feel sleepy.

-Good, you will rest a little then.

You feel him smile as he says that. He talks about the sea and some stories about his childhood and his little brother. Between all this, you find peace within your mind. The feeling of seasickness left and now you are faced with the obvious fact:

You like him.

-Hey, are you even listening?

He asks you as he feels that he has lost your attention. You blink and a soft smile curve your lips as your body is thrown into an epiphany. Warmth and joy tingle your body as your heart embrace the feeling with excitement. You slightly turn and look at his beautiful brown eyes. He smiled back and suddenly his freckles, his lips, his cheeks all seems so kissable. Your eyes glitter as your mouth speak for your heart.

-I like you Ace

[rayroseu]

Some Crowley and Lilia Parallels(?)

?? am i reaching here but doesn't "Crowley searching for a way for Yuu to go home" similar to "Lilia searching for a way for Malleus to hatch"?lol

like they both travel to far away places to search for clues to solve their younglings' problem and both Malleus/Yuu are frustrated whenever they're gone for their travels, Crowley/Lilia can't find a logical explanation why they're taking so long solving their problem too (like how Lilia foolishly trust wishes to make a dragon egg hatch bcs its just impossible to find another dragon and how Crowley seems like he's being lazy because he truly doesn't know how to transport a human back to another world) even though they're the person best suited to solve Malleus/Yuu's problem (crowley being the manager of orientation so he definitely must know(?) where the students came from and lilia being the only person Meleanor told that he'll hatch Malleus) also both of them are quite detached by how much Malleus/Yuu depends on them (by that i mean they leave them alone too much and lack communication with them even though theyre the person who took them under their wing)

They also have a habit of surprising people by falling from the sky (like Crowley's animation during special lessons and how Lilia always appears upside down to scare people)

and the difference between their serious and goofy personality is striking (like General Lilia with his mean attitude and deep voice vs Peepaw Lilia and then Prologue Crowley w his ominous vibe and again deeper than usual voice vs Weird Headmage Crowley).

Also idk if this means anything but they're also the characters with the most unique voices in-game, and im unsure about this too but i think their speech patterns both uses old english phrases yet still maintaining a modern pattern (to fit with the youths yk) and they both have "groups of bats/crows" surrounding them and serving as their only motif-- which makes me think both of them have familiars????

also both of them have "minimal magic usage"..... Crowley really doesn't casts any magic atleast in-game (but in other TWST media Crowley casts basic magic) and we know how Lilia is losing his magic because he exhausted it for hatching a dragon egg- Both of their (potential) twisted Disney characters (Bat goon and Diablo/Diaval) have a role in searching for Aurora too (I remember the Bat goon and co. was originally the ones tasked to search for Aurora but he failed so the task was passed to Diablo instead, and Diaval bcs he discovered that King Stefan had a daughter which raged Maleficent in the live action-)

I'm pertaining that if Crowley is Levan,,,, then these similarities would point out to the fact that [Lilia and Levan were always together](than Meleanor did) to the point where they kind of adapted each other's qualities, even if centuries pass-- Also TWST likes mirroring the "knights" of this game (i.e Silver and Sebek, Deuce and Ace), Lilia and Levan were Right and Left Generals (knights), so it kinda explains why they're having similar struggles and similar life pattern(?) (like babysitting an unprecedented child amidst their independent life and being hit with an important problem that is "impossible to solve")

so In conclusion?? did Meleanor cursed her generals to be eternally struggle babysitting troubled children?? XD

totally reaching here-- if Crowley is Levan and his life truly is similar to Lilia's,,, then then does that mean he cut his hair like Lilia's ???? 😳 bcs think about it,,,, all the Briar Valley characters we got has long hair (Meleanor, Baul, and Gen. Lilia) so does that mean if we do get a reveal of Crowley/Levan,,, we'll see Crowley with a longer hair as Levan- ✨🙏

If that's true,,, atleast Levan's hairstyle as Crowley wasn't a chaotic job like Lilia's,,,, LOL it kinda matches their description that Levan is more prim and proper KDHWKHD atleast as Crowley, Levan is actually attempting fashion instead of randomly matching whatever like Lilia 😭 also didn't Crowley had a tangent about his very specific food taste when asking for souvenir(GloMas Event)?? which hits the nail about Lilia's complaint about Meleanor and Levan being picky eaters lol

[cyberchronics]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

jing yuan + brat taming... i think it'd be such a guilty pleasure for him.

push him to his knees in front of you, pull his hair every time he forgets to call you a honorific, force his head in between your thighs when he starts to get too mouthy and he'll thank you for it in the morning.

tell him to do something embarrassing and degrade him for it when he listens. treat the honorable general with no respect. make him into your good boy.

∘₊✧───────────────────✧₊∘

Currently, Jing Yuan is being made to kneel like one of his soldiers. His hair is a mess, falling in his eyes as he looks up with a pleading look on his face. "I'm sorry, darling. Just, plea-" Before he can even finish begging, his hair gets pulled again and he's met with soft skin.

He gets the message, kissing up your thigh and sucking at the warmth between your legs dutifully. His hands are tied behind his back with a ribbon to keep him from touching his leaking cock, precum flowing down his stomach.

His tip glows an angry red as he unconsciously humps the leather of your boots, seeking the friction he desperately craves right now. Jing Yuan doesn't even notice until the light sound of laughter fills the room, his eyes following your own until he sees his rolling hips.

"You're such a horny slut. Can't even be patient enough to wait for me to touch you." He whines, still bucking against the shoe as his eyes roll back from the added pleasure of being insulted by you.

In no time he's thrusting frantically as he approaches the edge. Without waiting for permission Jing Yuan cums, strings of white coating his chest and your legs.

He pauses, trying to catch his breath as he clings to your body. He hopes, rather foolishly, that he'll be granted some mercy. But when the hard leather rubs against his sensitive tip, he regrets not listening yet again.

"Did I tell you to cum?" The sound of your voice sends a chill up his spine and feeling fingers grab his chin gives him tingles all over his body. With a half-lidded gaze he peeks up, accepting how fucked he is with a lazy smile. "No, but..." he hums, leaning into the palm of your hand.

"I'll be a good boy and take my punishment."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: idk why im pretending i wouldn't be whipped for this man... folding immediately

[sykosomatic]

ugh you always deliver!! im gonna request some nice, tasty angst. so ftm reader finally comes out to his parents after being no contact for two years and they dont take it well at all. by the time he comes home, hes a sobbing mess and just feels terrible. he honestly thought his parents would love and accept him for who he is, and just wishes he wasnt like this.

hannibal and will come home after a long day, and are so worried about him. he explains it to them and they are just hearbroken for him. they take time comforting him until he's asleep.

a week later, reader is informed that his parents have been found dead, hehe. reader is totally unaware of what his boyfriends have done

-🚄

oooh! love a good angst plot 😭💕

hannigram x ftm!reader (with unsupportive parents)

you’d done the work and put in the time to try and rekindle your relationship with your parents; the threat of losing them, unwilling to understand your transition as they were, was too high not to at least give it a shot. after all, you were already no-contact with them, what was there to lose? so you’d texted them, adding them to a little group chat (against your better judgement, group chats with parents are very awkward, you knew that) and texted them a heartfelt but succinct text message about going to meet up with them and have coffee and ‘talk about things’. they’d agreed.

they didn’t know about hannibal and will; though they weren’t wholly conservative on every issue, they probably would’ve sneered at you having two partners. ‘that’s weird,’ they might’ve said; ‘why not pick one?’

but you powered through and didn’t cancel like you wanted to, meeting them for coffee and bagels at a local cafe within walking distance to hannibal’s place. you’d called his luxurious place home for the better part of the past few months, and he seemed pleased with the idea.

needless to say, skipping past the choked tears and terse nods, your parents hadn’t taken your official coming-out very well. not only were you transitioning, but you were a masculine individual in a relationship with at least one man (you’d only mentioned will, by accidentally mentioning how he liked his coffee the same way your father did) and that was very much displeasing news to them. by the time you’d finally stormed out, tears spilling over your cheeks, they’d made up their minds that they were okay never talking to you again if you were… their words.. ‘planning to be like this forever’.

so you rushed home and slammed the door behind you, leaning your back against the door and trying not to slide down onto the floor as you hung your coat up on the rack by the door.

your partners peeked out from the kitchen, rushing over to you once they heard your woeful sobbing.

“didn’t go well,” you managed to say into will’s chest as he wrapped you into a hug. he and hannibal exchanged a look as you sobbed yourself tired.

the two of them had just gotten home and had been in the kitchen preparing dinner — or, hannibal was preparing dinner and will was keeping him company.

you explained to them, once you’d caught your breath, that you didn’t think it would’ve gone so bad. they were your parents, after all, didn’t they want to have a relationship with you after two years of no contact at all? you’d foolishly allowed yourself to think they’d accept you with open arms and apologize for everything. but of course that’s not what happened at all. you were devastated; why couldn’t you just be cis? you were miserable as you requested — against hannibal’s very serious wishes — to just go to bed without dinner that night, opting instead to just sleep away the misery of your lost relationship with your parents.

hannibal and will took turns visiting you through the night until you finally were able to fall asleep. they would hold you tight and kiss your forehead.

a week later, after you’d finally blocked your parents’ numbers and the whole interaction was starting to fade away from your immediate thoughts, you caught your parents’ names on television. it made you stop in your tracks, turning around to watch the newscast.

they’d been found dead.

you were shocked — it seemed really sudden; like karma had come to them for the way they’d treated you. only a week ago they’d been sneering at your lifestyle, and now they’d been found dead. the newscaster didn’t say anything about the cause of death or anything, just that they were dead.

they were dead. you’d never have to worry about what they thought about you again, you supposed. it felt… good. you were relieved; which is not what you’re expected to feel when your parents died, but there you were.

you told will and hannibal and they expressed their congratulations to you in the form of cooking you your favorite meal and watching your favorite movie. things were good. and you never had to think about what they could’ve been, because it couldn’t have been better than this.

[xspeter]

hey kat <3

could i request a Steve Harrington hurt comfort or angst where r and Steve and the others make it out of the upside down(s4), but r is injured and she doesn't realise it until they actually get back to hawkins.

the adrenaline's just masking any pain they're all feeling, but when they climb through the gate at eddies trailer and reader falls on the mattress, she winces. Steve asks her about it when they finally get to his house, after it's all over and done with.

you can totally ignore this if it's not your cup of tea. but thanks anyways love<3

✩ I hope this is alright, i wrote it as soon as i woke up 👩‍💻. didn’t proofread it so im really sorry for any mistakes !! thanks for the ask <3

Steve’s hurt. It’s the only thing your mind can focus on beneath skull mountain. Steve’s hurt and you weren’t there to protect him.

The bats had held onto him as if he was the best thing they’d ever tasted, and even with your pushing and pulling, it took way longer to get them off of him then you would’ve liked. Your mind couldn’t even focus on your own injuries, particularly the large gash on your thigh from the bats claws, but instead on Steve’s face constructed in pain.

“I’m sorry,” You breathed, wrapping your shirt scrap onto his gaping wound. His normally tan skin was paled, brown eyes dilated slightly.

You watched as the shirt began to seep into a light pink color and tightened it more to stop the blood flow, and Steve hissed as you did. You froze at the noise, mind running with different outcomes and worries.

“Hey, hey,” Steve reassured, back sliding down the rock so he could be eye-level with you. He winced as he did. “I’m okay.” He spoke softly, reaching a hand out to cup your cheek. “We’re all okay.”

You gazed around at all your friends, Robin and Eddie are nursing each others wounds, while Nancy takes care of her own. You’d always admired the girl for her resilience and independence.

To be honest, sometimes you almost felt jealous of the girl. Steve had been in love with her for so long before he finally started to fall for you last summer at Starcourt, but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel like those feelings they had for each other never fully went away.

You sucked in a breath, “I know. It’s just.. what if-”

“Don’t think about the what ifs,” He spoke, pink lips slightly glossy, “We’re here now, and we’re okay. Alright?”

You squeezed your eyes shut and focused on your breathing. Sometimes, it was still hard for you to comprehend that this was your life now. After the disaster at Starcourt and you’d been exposed to this entire situation, sometimes you still just couldn’t believe how many times these people had put their lives on the line.

“You promise you’re okay?” You asked solemnly, shoulders slightly slumped. Steve just grinned and rubbed your arm gently, “I promise,” He eyed your figure, “Are you okay?”

You nearly scoffed. Steve had chunks of flesh missing from his stomach and he was asking if you were okay? “I’m fine, Steve.”

He squinted his eyes at you suspiciously, “Are you sure? We’ll take care of it if you are. Don’t be a hero.”

“I’m not being a hero. I’m just not hurt.”

Steve, being so exhausted and delirious from the blood loss foolishly believed you. He kissed the side of your head softly and followed you as you followed Nancy to the Wheeler residence.

His first sign should’ve been when you nearly stumbled down the stairs. He’d been there to catch you, eyebrows knitted as he helped you steady. “What happened?” He asked.

You let out an awkward chuckle, going a bit pink at everyone’s concerned gazes. “I’m fine,” You spoke softly, “Just lost my balance.”

Nancy hummed, but she didn’t look convinced. Once everyone left the room to figure out what the hell Steve was yelling about, she pulled you aside. “You’ve been quiet ever since Skull Rock. Did you get hurt?”

You swallowed. The adrenaline rush you had felt was slowly waning away, leaving you to feel every bit of the long gash on your thigh. “I’m fine.” You spoke, thankful that your black leggings hid the dark red substance slowly leaking from you, “Just exhausted.”

Nancy still didn’t look convinced, her eyes glimmering slightly as she sucked in her bottom lip, “If something’s wrong we can figure out a way to help you, okay?” She took a breath, her eyes downcast. “If.. if you’re hurt and- and god forbid something were to happen to you Steve would never forgive himself. You can’t do that to him.”

You knew she was right, Steve didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to lose someone else after everything he’s suffered, but you firmly believed you’d be okay. If anything, you’d just need a few stitches and then everything would be okay. Which is why you say, “I’m fine. Promise.”

❣︎

You were more than just relived when you made it to Eddies trailer. You were practically ecstatic. You were ready to get out of this hellhole and finally take care of your wound.

But, you should’ve known that nothing would be okay, not after Nancy’s vision. You and Steve watched as she fell over, the both of you attempting to shake her awake while everyone else rushed to find a song.

But, Nancy wouldn’t need it, and instead would wake on her own with a message from Vecna.

Steve let Nancy go first, her body hitting the mattress softly. Robin helped her up, offering her hand which Nancy gratefully took.

Next, it was your turn. Steve helped you down, his cold hand on your lower back gently dropping you down.

But, unlike everyone else, you couldn’t get up from the mattress. The fall winded you, and the pain on your leg increased tenfold. You let a quiet whine when you tried to stand on it, immediate tears springing to your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Steve called down in a panic stricken voice.

“I’m- I’m fine.” You replied hoarsely, attempting again to stand and being unable to.

Eddie gazed down to where a large pool of blood was beggining to form on the mattress beneath your leg,band his face immediately paled.

“Shit, shit, shit,” He chanted, “You gotta get down here, man!” He called. Eddie graciously slipped his ringed fingers under your back and knees, carrying you away from the mattress and towards the couch.

You barely heard Steve’s body hit the bed as he jumped down, but you felt his presence as soon as Eddie set you down. “Shit, how long has- why didn’t you-”

You could feel Steve’s panic, and it made you want to scream. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to be okay, and everything would’ve been fine.

But even now you can feel the unnerving exhaustion the blood loss is making you feel, and you know that’s not going to happen.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke softly, eyes glassy with tears as you began to accept your fate.

Steve was yelling for them to get help, his own eyes wet and wide.

He attempted to put pressure on the wound, and at this point you couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He chanted, voice wobbly.

“I’m sorry,” You swallowed, “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“I told you not to be a hero!” He cried, “You- you said you were okay.”

“I know,” You shushed softly, “You’ll be okay.”

Steve froze for a moment, letting your words process. You didn’t say I’ll be okay, you said He’d be okay. While the change was slight, he understood what it meant.

“You’ll be okay too,” He attempted, voice weak. “We’re gonna be okay, and we’re gonna get that apartment in Indianapolis that we talked about, okay? We’re gonna move outta Hawkins like we said we would.”

You smiled softly at the memory, remembering all the sweet nights where you laid naked in his bed, drawing soft patterns on his back. You’d talk for hours about your futures. About marriage and kids and growing old together.

You just wish you could’ve seen it happen.

“Can you remind me?” You asked softly, eyelids heavy. “About our life after we get married?”

Steve let out a quiet sob. He’d stopped his attempts at putting pressure on your leg, he knew it was too late. There wasn’t anything he could do.

“We’re gonna-” He sniffled, hand reaching for your own and squeezing it tightly. “We’re gonna get married in the forest, just behind Hoppers house with the Gazebo. And we’re gonna move into a beautiful apartment in the city, with green shudders and- and-” He paused momentarily, a tear slipping down his cheek.

You squeezed his hand softly, encouraging him to keep going. He took a breath, glassy eyes staring at your paling face. “We’ll have three kids. Two boys and a girl, and they’ll have a cat named Penny. They’re gonna- gonna get older and they’ll all go off the college, and we’ll have so much space we won’t know what to do with ourselves.” He chuckled softly, “We’ll spend every day with each other. Doing all that sappy, old people stuff. And- and we’ll grow old together and we’re gonna live happy, okay? I just- you just gotta-”

He allowed himself to risk a glance at your face, and he wished he hadn’t. Your eyes were closed, a soft smile tugging on your pale lips, and he knew what it meant.

You were gone. Just like that.

And even as the police arrived and Eddie attempted whatever story he could put together onto why you all looked so.. well, roughed up, Steve couldn’t even listen.

All he could focus on was your body slowly being zipped away.

[r0ttgu7]

heya!

Can I get 14, 2 with Ranpo?

14 (“you’re gonna love me back.”) + 2 (“even if you do hate me, it doesn't matter, i really love you”)

did something a little softer here, more short and sweet. plus im still a little woozy from getting high so if something does make sense i apologize haha.

-WC 562 // valentines event open!! TWs: none? well i guess implied kidnapping.

There's a lot you regret in your heart, things ranging to minor, and things ranging to more major. Ranpo Edogawa was a major regret. But you knew your fate was sealed the moment he was aware of your existence. Lulled you into thinking it would ever be normal between you two, you didn't mind his childlike attitudes when they came. It started off simple then became more constricted by Ranpo’s possessiveness which became suffocating. Other than constricting, it was hard to exactly explain the relationship between you and him.  But yet you still foolishly carried on because he's your bestest friend. Even sometimes when he supposedly accidentally tells you of the most gruesome mysteries he's done or is doing, souring your mood slightly. You trust Ranpo you really do, but you still have some doubts.

You don't exactly love Ranpo in that way, you just like him. However you were oh so unaware of how much he loves you, but he's just in wait. Even if he gave the most comforting hugs and shared his snacks with you, you could only see him as a good friend.

And this bothered him so much, but with a little time he was sure he could make you love him, even if it is a slow process. He requested more of your time and you made time, even if it got you in a little trouble. The conversations didn't differ, his current case was incredibly easy and he should’ve taken you along with him. Then that started the whining, and he got closer to you, snuggling into your side while you could only wrap an arm around him in return. “You’re gonna love me back, I hope you know that.” 

His words were muffled under sinking into your form, they were gentle as well, you almost didn't catch what he said. He suddenly hugged you and hugged hard, you flinched not expecting the tough hold on you. The most you let out was a little gasp in surprise before quickly gaining your composure back. The hug did start to hurt but Ranpo didn't let up, you were sure, if he could hug harder he would and you’re also sure your ribs would crack a little. Attempting to push him a little so you could get a little more comfortable was futile because all he did was pout at your actions. 

“Even though I know everything about you, it still isn't enough.”

Letting out hum to show confusion, but just to acknowledge his words, he let a little grip off while his head rested on your chest. “I hate it when you’re with anyone else, don't you know I am wayyy more important?” 

Letting him ramble on, closing your eyes, continuing to rest despite the comments of Ranpo’s complaining.

“I don't understand why they don't see you belong to me, taking your attention away from me, in the end you will be mine even if you do hate me, it doesn't matter, i really love you.”

You like Ranpo but you don't love the man, how unfortunate for ever getting to know each other, for falling into his obsession. It was peaceful until a life was taken for you, but that's a gruesome tale for another day. Being stuck in a place you will never call home, with a person you will never call your lover.

[spacexseven]

Okok so I have an idea that just came to mind and I wanna know what you think about this

So I was thinking about darling in subordinate au what if they had a crush on dazai/chuuya (or both) at the beginning? I'd imagine they'd get bullied so badly for this

Tbh this is kinda like one of your posts with the yanderes going after a darling they previously rejected

Im gonna do chuuya for this because…i have a feeling i’ve discussed something about liking dazai for this au before…?

it’s easy to be fooled by chuuya at first sight, when you only notice his soft smile from a far distance away. and maybe, because of all the time you spent being crushed under dazai’s heel, it’s even easier to create a fantasy version of him in your head, and fall for him—hard. you tell yourself that if you worked hard enough, dazai would eventually have to let you go, or maybe if he gets tired of you, he’ll shift you over to someone else, maybe even chuuya. you liked to believe that he wouldn’t be so cruel and condescending, just for the little solace your imagination brought you. you liked to believe he would be a better boss, and an even better friend. 

of course, all your hopes are dashed when you actually meet him. for starters, chuuya rarely let go of his deep scowl, especially around you and dazai. suddenly, he was so much more intimidating, and the callous way he treated you, whether out of irritation or just because he knew kind treatment would only get dazai angry, only served to make you more terrified. he glares at you, and his words are sharp, painful; like he knows exactly how to get to you. this was far from the chuuya you saw all those days ago. dazai’s perceptive enough to catch on to your longing looks and the droop in your shoulders, and he’s simultaneously amused and annoyed by it. was he giving you so little work that you had time to be catching feelings?

regardless, you suffer. you bury yourself in the work dazai gives you in a pathetic attempt at trying to ignore the heartbreak, and the less you see chuuya, the easier it gets. you foolishly believe that that would be the end of it.

while you’re busy trying to make sure you don’t die while completing the tasks assigned to dazai, you fail to realize that someone else has noticed the lack of your presence. perhaps it’s because chuuya has begun to see you like an extension of dazai; the tail of his shadow, but it felt unnatural to see the taller man prance around the building without you dragging your feet behind him. he would have been stupid to not notice you gawking over him, and chuuya was far too perceptive to miss the dejected expression on your face every time you got remotely close to him, but he just didn’t care. it didn’t matter to him that you probably just wanted a friend—everyone here were barely managing to look out for themselves, let alone make friends, but the part that bothered him the most was how small you looked beside dazai. chuuya was no stranger to witnessing dazai’s more sadistic side, but somehow, he was infuriated by the thought that you could only ever obey the fool’s orders if you wanted to live. it bothered him even more that he couldn’t involve himself in any way, but he wouldn’t be caught dead pitying you. you deserved better than his pity. admiration, maybe for making it this far despite the cruel circumstances. sympathy, because he knew how hard it could be to deal with dazai, but not pity.

somewhere along the way, his feelings of admiration and sympathy and something else turns into a strange fascination, shows as an unexpected interest. he has an eye out for you all the time, just to make sure you aren’t dead in a ditch somewhere. his angry cursing focuses more on dazai and not on you. instead you’re graced with a strange half-smile, if only for a moment. some of the black lizard member, the ones who pick on you—dazai’s pet, as they like to call you, jeering—are found brutally beaten, half-dead and silent despite all demands to know who the attacker was. dazai giggles as he tells you this, like he knows something you don’t. then his voice goes cold and he reminds you that you’re only safe by his side, as his pet. better the devil you know, right? (not that you’d ever claim to know dazai). even mori regards you with slight apprehension, as if in disbelief over something. 

the question remains unasked; how did you, measly little thing, cause so much trouble?

chuuya’s acts go unnoticed by you, in fact, you don’t spare him the light of day, more on edge by dazai’s warnings and the strange way everyone seems to watch you. his attempts at conversation register to you as veiled threats, and you’re far too frightened by him to spend even a moment more lingering around him once you sense his presence. maybe the distance should disappoint him, but chuuya’s vague interest in you hasn’t developed that far yet. besides, it’s not too bad to watch over you from afar. 

once it does get worse, though, chuuya will try to clear up the misunderstandings. he demands for more of your time, insists that dazai can’t make use of you, stands up for you publicly and makes it clear that he disapproves of dazai’s treatment of you. anything to make you realize his intentions. 

[nhularin]

FAVORITE CRIME

PAIRING theater kid! sunoo x theater kid! reader GENRE highschool AU, theater partner to friends to strangers, angst no comfort WARNINGS insecurities, this is probably the worst fic ive ever written im sorry, barely proofread WC 1.3k series masterlist

January 25th, 2008

D-29

"set, action!"

" i am afraid" you whispered loudly enough, face mirroring that of your character.

"it's i am NOT afraid, not im afraid. IN POSITION!" the obnoxious voice of Kim Gyuvin echoed through the empty theater hall

as the bright stage lights illuminated the auditorium, the air buzzed with anticipation and exhaustion. It was the third rehearsal of your schools rendition of "highschool musical," and the leads, sunoo as troy (which was a strange combination if you had to admit) and you, although a complete newbie in acting, as gabriella. it was not long till your work of art was about to take the stage.

you looked at your partner, eyes filled with guilt as you sighed "im sorry, not my day" he only laughed and gave you a sympathetic smile "its okay, gyuvin is just being an ass today because mr Kim didnt like his freestyle presentation of macbeth" sunoo shook his head " he rapped, yn, rapped the damn play out" you both giggled, finding fondness in the silly actions of your director (you honestly dont know why he was chosen"

"Hey! silence! and get into position!" the boy of your talk yelled, looking at them with his best stern face but ended up looking like a butthurt child. gyuvin pointed at sunghoon and heeseung, who both wore a bored expression on their face "rat 01 and rat 02, lighting!"

D-13

throughout the entire rehearsal process, sunno had been nothing short of a perfect scene partner. he was kind, supportive, funny and always there to lend a helping hand to your clumsy self. you couldn't help but feel , call yourself delusional, a deep connection growing between you two that went beyond the boundaries of the childish, superficial relationship of troy and gabriella.

He would leave post-it notes on your locker, filled with kind words and reminders of your talent. yoy would find them every morning, a small burst of positivity to start your day.

but it didn't stop there. the golden boy would often leave juice bottles on your desk, knowing how important it was for yoy to take care of your voice. sunoo would write silly little notes in class as well, reminding you to stay hydrated and take breaks when needed.

D-10

their rehearsals were filled with laughter and shared dreams. sunoos enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself falling foolishly deeper into the role of gabriella with each passing day. you admired his dedication and his ability to bring out the best in the team's performance.

as the days turned into weeks, you began to feel a connection with sunoo that went beyond your characters and your delusions. sparks flew, an unspoken understanding that seemed to blossom between you. your interactions became more personal, your conversations filled with warmth and vulnerability.

one evening, after a particularly exhausting rehearsal, he had walked you home despite his route from school being in the opposite direction, your footsteps echoing through the quiet streets. you talked and talked, about the magic of theater and the scary future after highschool. it was in that moment, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, that you felt your heart skip a beat.

D-5

But as the premiere of the play approached, something changed. Sunoo's smiles became fewer and further between, his once cheerful demeanor replaced with a distant look in his eyes. Confused and hurt, you tried to reach out, to understand what was happening, but he began to withdraw

He would avoid eye contact, brush off your attempts at conversation, and disappear without explanation. your heart ached with every rejection, the pain of his sudden indifference growing with each passing day.

D-1

On the night of the performance, your heart sank as you noticed sunoos cold stare from across the stage. the chemistry you had worked so hard to build was replaced by an icy tension backstage. every line, every touch felt forced, lacking the authenticity you had once shared.

After the final bow, you searched for answers, desperate to understand what had caused this sudden change. But Sunoo continued to ignore you in the hallways, as if you were a mere stranger he had never met. The reader's heart shattered into a million pieces, unable to comprehend the pain of being cast aside so abruptly.

- D-13

days turned into weeks, and your anguish only deepened. sunoos silence was deafening, and the unanswered questions tormented you every waking moment. was it all just an act? had your connection been nothing more than an illusion?

one evening, as you sat alone in your house, your parents nowhere to be seen, contemplating the shattered remnants of what once was, you spotted a note tucked beneath your door. It was a familiar sight - a post it note, just like the ones the boy who unknowingly broke your heart used to send you. with trembling hands, you unfolded the note and read the words that lay before you: "I'm sorry."

confusion mingled with hope as your heart skipped a beat. without hesitation, you rushed outside to your front yard, determined to uncover the truth of his silence. as you rounded the corner to your treehouse, there he stood, anxiously awaiting your arrival. the look in his eyes was something you have never seen before, the cheerful boy from school now looked disheveled and broken and you could see the weight of regret pressing upon his shoulders.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," sunoo exclaimed, his voice filled with remorse and something you couldn't decipher. "I thought it would be easier this way, but I was wrong. at first, i only befriended you in sake of the play, but you kept plaguing my mind at every waking hour. so i tried to distance myself to focus on our performance."

tears welled up in your eyes as the truth washed over you. sunoos actions were not born out of cruelty, but rather out of fear and self preservation. in his attempt to protect his own heart, he unknowingly shattered yours.

with a trembling voice, you spoke up "i get that" your voice cracked "i really do, but you could've talked to me before completely ignoring my presence. you weren't the only main character in this play. and do you know what's the most important thing in theater? communication. please dont push me away, youre important to me"

in that moment, the barriers between you began to crumble. walls of misunderstanding and pain came crashing down, revealing the raw vulnerability that lay beneath. And just like the tragic love story they had once portrayed on stage, Sunoo and you found yourselves in front of each other, heart more broken than the other's

"im sorry, yn"

and he left, with your heart in his hand

PERM TAGLIST @misokei @avocarua @sngvhs @essmarye @haechansbbg

SERIES' MASTERLIST @flwerfield @hyhees @mrchweeee @j1nniee @mikaluvsyouu @delulu4-life @mora134340 @beomsbeanie @leep0ems @cIphantom-hive @yla-aira @filmofhybe @nishik1 @iea-tsand

[sucker4sixx]

Particles

Recycled from 2023!

Plot: you cant seem to stay away..

Warnings: distressing themes, self destruction, degradation (not in a kinky way), toxic relationships

You sat on the curb, the streets a blur. People pass laughing with their group like you were invisible, you basically were. Eventually you brought yourself to your feet, eyes unable to focus on a thing.

Another mopey night of drowning your sorrows in vodka like a broken record. At this point you werent sure where you were, becoming almost dyslexic trying to look at the street signs "hey.. man do you like" you slurred to a man who stood alone "i got no change lady" he spat, walking away.

'Its all because of him' you told yourself, trying not to trip up over your own feet 'he tricked me, he trapped me in his spell'. The stone wall you held for support left small cuts on your hands when you would fall but you were far too drunk now to even feel.

As you headed from the busy part of town to the more quieter area you got chilly, the small black dress you foolishly picked out incase you bumped into him not doing much for you. When you 'accidentally' ended up in the quite street that was oh too familiar you felt sick with fear, regret, sadness.

You began to stumble along the pavement again, your legs knowing where to go more that you did. "Fuck." you slurred, falling to your knees but not even remembering how. You sighed, knowing you would have to start your unknowing treck sometime soon. Lazily you raised your head and tried to focus your eyes, to your horror, he stood outside his front garden looking forwards unaware of your arrival or just ignorant of your pain, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. Your stared up at him not sure if you were really seeing him or clinically insane.

Slowly his head turned to look at you, unimpressed. "Look at the state your in, doll" the words that wouldve been slurred anyway had completely gone. "What? Cat got your tongue?" Nikki slowly walked towards you, getting down to your level "your a fucking mess, you know that?" He held your chin and slowly moved your head up and down "yes nikki i know that" he spoke in a higher voice to mock you, laughing to himself.

"Your really not going to speak? You cant even focus on me, you alcoholic" slowly you rest your hand on his cheek, moving your thumb round in circles. He was hurt and drunk and you knew that "its okay nikki.. i know your hurt" you tried your hardest not to slur but it was inevitable, his eyes teared up but he kept his beautiful face tough "im not hurt, im a man" he stood up and looked down at you "up. Get up." You obliged, using his legs to help you up "fucking junkie" he muttered, helping you to his house.

Once you were in he gently sat you on his couch, noticing the blood on your knees and hands "you gotta be careful" "why? I have no one to be careful for anymore" nikki sat back, putting his fingers over the bridge of his nose to calm himself down "you broke up with me! Why are you still in love with me?!" He barked, taking you back abit "you cheated on me sixx!" "Oh and fucking what! I did it once, ill do it again!" He sarcastically smiled, quoting the last thing you said to him while you were together "just like you right? Youll show up at my house drunk once? Youll fuckin do it again!" You sighed for a moment, both going quite. The argument suddenly sobering you up more than you would like.

"So? Why are you really here?" He asks, tone still angry but more quite. "I dont even fucking know!" You snap, getting up from his couch and leaving through the front door.

You sat on the curb, streets a blur from the tears that streamed down your cheek. You called a taxi but they said it would arrive two hours tops since it was a saturday night. You missed the way used to be, when you could actually have a conversation and end it with an “i love you baby”.

The tall man sat beside you wordlessly, you didnt even want to look up at him. "Look im so-" "save it, im the one who came here. I need to stop expecting so much from you" he sighed, wiping the back of his arm over his eyes like he had been crying. "I dont think your a mess, i think your the most beautiful girl ive ever seen" you huffed, looking up at him "you cant keep doing this to me" "oh cmon babe, its always going to be me and you"

"look i called a cab just go inside it shouldnt be long"

"is this the last time?"

"Id like to think so" "stop being so god damn negative" he muttered, getting aggravated. You just huffed again, really not in the mood for his antics. He only ever got like this when he had been drinking copious amounts of whiskey.

30 minutes of silence passed "where the fuck is this taxi" nikki looked down at this fingers where he played with his nails "i uh cancelled it" "of course" you brought yourself to your feet, looking down at the man you once thought youd marry "of fucking couse!" Once again you began your treck knowing it would be ages before you got home but way sooner than if you called another taxi "no babe come back" nikki pleaded, walking after you. "This" you pointed between you both "its unhealthy" "i know but it feels so good! Its so right!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands around "you drank more whiskey while i was outside?" "Is it a fuckina crime?" "No but it is when i do it isnt it? What was it? 'Alcoholic'? 'Fucking junky'?" "Oh dont do that, i was speaking the truth!" You walked towards him, now both in the centre of the road "well ill tell you the truth. All you are is your face, your personality is shit and when it can be even near to good thats when your acting like a himbo so that you look dumb and lovable to all your fans that you fuck! Your a manipulator and a cheater and i couldnt name one single positive thing about you. Ive waisted two years of my life over you and that trends over with" nikki falls silent, half of it was fake.. he really could be a sweet guy but you just wanted to hurt him

He tries to speak but tears stream down his face as he backs up, the guilt hits you but you stay silent “i-i just wanted to be perfect for you.. all i wanted was you” he sobs, gasping for air as he backs up to his house, youve never seen him so hysterical before but it worried you. You watch as he stumbles back into his house, slamming the door shut, although he was inside his sobs wracked through the empty street, turning away you walked down the street, trying to drown out the sobs with heavy steps but even when you were too far to hear him his hysterical display still haunted your memory…

You knew youd be back soon enough.