#rly had to be me who gifs them! I guess I had to do it all by myself..

[taelme]

enchanted

genre: regency!au (with some tweaks ofc), (not so)enemies-to-lovers!au, viscount!Jaehyun (kind of slowburn, hurt/comfort elements?, angst? mutual pining, reader is an oldest daughter guys)  pairing/s: Jaehyun / Reader (ft Yuta, Johnny & other ocs) 

word count: 23k+ (guys. be fr its me we’re talking abt here)  tw: reader and jh both have a tense rs w their parents? brief mentions of a parent’s death (not reader/jh’s), reader doesn’t exactly look after herself very well, lmk if I missed out on anything! summary: in a world where marriage is nothing more than an economic proposition, and where a person is no more than what they can offer, you and Jaehyun rediscover what it means to be with each other, in the very essence of the word

a/n: this is really funny cause... so far the fics i have for my ‘tswift for the neos’ discourse are all johnjae.... life is like that, i guess. anyway. 3rd installment! this was a LONG time coming and i rly hope u guys enjoy it! took me a while to get back into the rhythm of writing so thank u all for bearing w my radio silence HAHHA this is based off of enchanted and gold rush (and any other easter eggs you find hehe- i’d love to hear if it reminds u of other tswift songs), reblogs are VERY appreciated!! happy reading loveys~  read this on ao3

You ached for rest. Not the kind that sleep guaranteed, no. This rest you ached for felt much deeper, much further from reach. Much like a stranger you wished to know. 

“Do you remember what we discussed?” 

Each inhale of yours didn’t seem to satisfy the ache in your chest, feeling as though your ribs were caving in, unsure if it was anxiety or the carriage or your clothing that was making you taste your last meal, and even that seemed like it was ages ago. 

“Your posture,” the whisper of your mother brought some of your awareness back to the question she’d asked.

What did you discuss? 

You tried to dismiss the impending feeling of doom that grew stronger as you noticed your surroundings, the carriage all of a sudden seeming to be moving too quickly, your grip on your gloves tightening as you tried to recall what your mother was trying to remind you of. 

Right.

Be obedient. The carriage rounded the corner, jolting you from the familiar bump in the road. Don’t immediately launch into literary discourses out of panic. Your mother took your gloves out of your weak grip, slipping them onto your hands with an assertiveness that shoved you further into your seat, resisting the urge to shiver at the feeling of her cold hands on your skin. Have good manners. You could now recognise the music echoing from the building, a piece you were sure you’d heard your sister play before. Mind your facial expression. Along with the sound of music, the chatter and giggles intensified. Don’t scribble funny names onto your dance card. You thought about your little sister at home, probably sitting by the window reading a book from your father’s library as she waited for you to return home. You thought about your father who was in his study doing God knows what. As if like a trigger, a wave of clarity washed over you; you’d suddenly felt unfortunately sober. 

Find a marriage partner. 

“There will be many eligible suitors present. After all, it’s the first ball of the season,” she spoke, more for herself than for you. 

You were treating this like a game of sorts, anything to make the process feel more distant from you. You needed to go in, find someone who had status, money and could offer protection to your family, and play your part to see it through for the rest of your life. Sure, it could be seen as a game. A very long, tedious game.  

“Right,” you swallowed, still feeling as though you could hurl at any given moment, though your mother would’ve never sensed your inner turmoil. You’d become somewhat of an expert at masking it. Perhaps it was all the times you heard your parents telling you to ‘use your words’; you’d become all-too-familiar with manipulating them as you pleased. 

The carriage came to an abrupt halt, your mother already preparing to alight as you followed behind her. Taking in a deep breath of (rather fresh smelling) air, you wondered momentarily if that was all you needed, feeling much better than you did in the carriage as you followed your mother up to the entrance of the ball. 

You’d barely paid attention to your name and your mother’s being announced to the room upon your entrance, hyper aware of the attendees and trying your best to suppress your discomfort, hoping you could somehow mentally dissuade them from approaching you for a dance, though you knew you would never let yourself allow that. You had more pressing issues at hand. 

Your relief from the fresh air was short lived. A stocky middle aged man who, according to your mother, owned an extravagant amount of land and had just gotten out of his second marriage, actively looking for a third. 

Masking your discomfort, once again, you’d complied when the man had asked for a dance (though it wasn’t like you had a choice, your dance card bare as ever). Though you didn’t remember what you talked about as you danced, you were too focused on counting your steps to distract from his lack of teeth and the damp warmth that sank into your clothes where his hand was placed. 

“Do you do much sewing?”

“A fair amount,” you grunted, feeling out of breath from supporting his weight with how much he was leaning into you while dancing. Sewing surely didn’t give you enough strength for this. 

“That is good. It would help to dedicate yourself to such productive activities. You could contribute much more to the household with that, compared to all the folly of reading or academic learning. Unnecessary, in my opinion, when I am more than sufficiently equipped in that area.”

You couldn’t help your blank stare, hoping your tired sigh wasn’t obvious as you nodded with a hum. 

“Is that so?” 

The man let out a grunt, seeming to think you were speaking sarcastically, “A woman like you should use your beauty to your advantage. It is your crowning glory.” 

You forced out a smile, telling yourself to take his words as flattery even though you were desperate for this dance to end. 

The truth of the matter was this: you were made to do all sorts of things at the start of your day, things that were considered ‘productive’ and would aid in attracting a husband. Needlework, dancing, singing, drawing… but when the afternoon came around you were free to do your other ‘less productive’ activities. 

You chose reading, naps and the occasional letter writing. These pastimes were the only form of rest you were accustomed to, though you would always end up somewhat unsatisfied, feeling as though these forms of resting didn’t satisfy the desire for rest. Perhaps it was like a writer trying to find the right word for a situation and ending up settling for one with the most similarity—it still wasn’t the right word, but there was always a thought that perhaps you were looking for one with an entirely different meaning. 

Sewing? You found it all too troublesome and required all the patience that you didn’t have, leaving it for those few hours in the morning that were dedicated to building up your ‘accomplishments’. But were you proficient at it? To answer simply, you were proficient to the extent that you felt it was necessary to attract a marriage partner. 

Your promise to your mother not to write random names on your dance card was growing less and less serious with each forced smile you let out to acknowledge the man’s strong beliefs. 

It was by your (you weren’t sure, actually, it seemed as though you’d danced more this night than in your entire lifetime) dance that you were starting to feel lightheaded, stepping aside to find your mother for a drink. It was as your dance partner led you back to your mother that your eyes couldn’t seem to help themselves, constantly glancing at the dance card hanging from your wrist, the empty spaces and the little pencil dangling from it simply calling out to you to put them to good use. 

You only had about four spaces left on your card— thank goodness for that, you didn’t think you’d be able to last any longer. Your fingers fiddled with the little pencil as you walked, careful to keep your fidgeting out of sight, overhearing giggles and murmurs about a certain viscount that was rumoured to be attending tonight’s ball. 

Viscount Jung? You almost scoffed at the way they seemed as if they were talking about the Queen. Whoever he was, it was absolutely tempting you, the offer of his name that was as easily tossed around as it could be written down on your silly card. 

“He’s gorgeous , you’ll have to take my word for it. Beautiful features and physique. I saw him once when he came to my estate for a meeting with my husband. He’s an architect, and a very skilled one at that.” 

You purse your lips, already concocting various images in your head of what he looked like. Tall? Amicable? Perhaps he had a nice smile, you always found that to be rather charming. Perhaps his movements were slow yet precise, his moves carrying the same kind of regal elegance of the buildings he designed.  

“Well, I would think he has potential marriage partners lining up for him if that’s the case, hmm?” you heard, almost nodding in agreement. 

As you scanned the room, you pursed your lips at the mental image you got of how any of these girls would behave if the tall, handsome architect you pictured in your brain were to show any attempt of courting them. Maybe not even to the extent of courting… perhaps just a passing glance, a brush of his hand against yours, to feel his imposing presence just like a Midas touch as he walked past. 

You let yourself wonder, just for a moment, if he would ask to be introduced to you, if you would find his personality charming while you danced, if he would take a liking to you and engage in more than just superficial conversation on your accomplishments, how you would feel to be at the receiving end of attention that was not unwanted for once. 

Though it was short lived, your mind had taken the liberty of playing the rest of the sequence of events—your mother’s meddling, heightened tension between you and her because of said meddling—you cut the daydream-turned-nightmare off before you made yourself bitter for no good reason. 

You were already getting too invested in this conversation, the image and elaborate backstory you’d created for him in your head. But it wasn’t exactly your fault, there was hardly any real entertainment to be found here. You held your dance card open as much as you could without going noticed, beginning to write the usual names you fell-back on when you grew tired of dancing.   

“It’s near impossible to catch his attention, though,” you tuned-in to the conversation between the two mothers from before, “he wouldn’t even spare a glance at anything other than his sketches when he was visiting my home. I’d assume one would have to be nothing short of perfect to even get noticed by someone of his calibre. I can’t imagine he would settle for anything less.” 

“Do you think he's coming tonight?”

“I heard he responded with his attendance, but Lord, have mercy on our daughters… I doubt he’d even cast a passing sigh their way,” you heard one of the chaperones sigh, shaking her head. 

“What’s his name again?” 

You tapped your pencil against the inside of your fingers absently, frustrated at the way your mind was blanking as you tried to recall another name you could use to fill the last empty space in your dance card. 

“Viscount Jung Jaehyun.” 

You hummed. Jung Jaehyun . You figured it was a safe bet, it wasn’t as if he’d actually ask you to dance. 

You worked quickly in scribbling his name, along with many others you usually fell back on, onto the paper. The feeling of pencil against paper had never been as satisfying as it did now as your feet ached, clothes felt uncomfortable against your skin and throat feeling dry as sand. 

Unfortunately for you, that victory didn’t seem to last very long. 

“My dear, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” your mother cooed once you’d reached her, her tone making you feel as though you’d just been cued to say your next line. 

You shot her a look, putting on a friendly smile as you greeted the people she was with, a few women you definitely did not recognise and a man with a very charming smile, clothes and jewellery that looked like he definitely lived… comfortably . 

You were introduced to this man, addressed as Mr Nakamoto, a young-looking man who was supposedly from a reputable family from overseas, back from his travels around Europe. All of which was unimportant to your mother, of course, who simply hinted that he had money and was looking for a wife, the only things she claimed you should be caring about. 

Perhaps that was true. Contrary to how it seemed, you were a lot more targeted in your search for a marriage partner. If you sifted through your mental list of men you’d danced with thus far into the night, your best potential marriage partner was either Mr Nakamoto (from what you were hearing), or the widower Baron who told you your silence was pleasing to him. 

“Would you do me the honour of a dance?” He smiled, already extending a hand to reach for your dance card. In your panic, you withdrew your hand just slightly, only having it snatched away again by your mother, whose eyes zeroed in on the newly-added names. 

You didn’t have time to react before the woman standing next to her had peered over as well, practically exclaiming with delight, “Oh! The viscount has asked you to dance? How fortunate! You must not dawdle, then.” 

Your eyes widened, about to protest with some reason you hadn’t quite thought up yet, using that split second to contemplate the repercussions and how willing you were to deal with them if you were to confess that it was a fake name. That is, until your gaze landed on the man currently being led (or pushed) towards you. 

Barely being able to protest before the both of you had been abandoned on the dance floor, the man looking nothing but irritable as he glared at you. You were assuming this was the man who was the centre of all the hushed giggles and gossip of tonight. 

The image you had in your head of the mysterious Viscount Jung was almost instantly shattered and made new again, as if the previous image had never existed and this was the only one that could ever exist. How, for some reason, it made sense . 

“This would all make sense if you let me explain,” you blurted out, seeing him quirk an eyebrow at you. Even his eyebrows were pretty. 

He let out a huff at your expression, wondering how you could still seem so unremorseful after causing him such inconvenience . The last thing Jaehyun wanted here was for people to assume he was actually interested in somebody. 

“You owe me an explanation, regardless,” the man’s voice had shocked you. 

Deep and smooth, capable of lulling you into a trance if you weren’t already so on edge, even if his tone was curt and dripping with annoyance, “You’ve somehow managed to get the whole room staring at us.” 

He let his gaze flicker briefly over the necklace you were wearing, back to your mother who was standing at the side looking on with evident disdain. Delicate looking Amethysts decorating your neck made Jaehyun wonder where you’d gotten them from. He only recalled Rubies to be quite popular among the girls in the other towns, according to his closest friend Johnny. 

As if reminded of where you were, you tried to ignore the stares as you reached a hand up to his shoulder, swallowing the gasp that almost escaped at the feeling of his hand going to your back, tensing up visibly as your brain processed the music playing. 

He let out a sigh as the both of you began to dance. It would’ve been an amusing sight if you were someone else looking on, both of you clearly not wishing to dance yet being whisked along to the upbeat tempo of the music, executing the dizzying choreography with what could only be described as trained movements. 

A hint of a smile graced his features, though it definitely wasn’t directed at you. 

“Anytime before my death, please,” he spoke, seeming to find his little joke amusing from the little huff of laughter he struggled to contain. 

You scoffed, for some reason not feeling as inclined to offer him the same grace you would your other dance partners. Rolling your shoulders back, you kept your stare steady and refused to look down, lest he think he succeeded in making you feel small. 

“That’s not a lot of time,” you quipped back, “Besides, your sour attitude is what will earn you an early death, if anything,” you muttered, audible enough for him to hear. 

“Yours isn’t any better, in case you haven’t realised,” he huffed, eyebrows furrowing slightly in disdain. 

“You don’t know me,” you huffed. 

“And neither do you,” he was quick to reply, earning a sigh from you. 

“Look, I wouldn’t be dancing with you if I had a choice,” you scoffed, figuring he was at least mildly offended from the way his eyes seemed to widen just momentarily. 

“Oh, but you had a choice in writing my name on your dance card, didn’t you?” He bit back with a sarcastic smile, making you suck in a breath. That was definitely caused by your annoyance, not the dimples on his cheeks that you noticed with his smile.  

“Just so we’re clear, I wouldn’t be dancing with someone as ill-mannered and arrogant as you either. Or dancing at all, for that matter. You’ve somehow seemed to spoil both of those outcomes,” he drawled, a wistful sigh that he masked with a soft smile. 

Almost like a child, you’d wanted to mutter something about how you weren’t ill-mannered, but you figured what you’d shown him thus far wouldn’t exactly help your case in proving that. 

You could hear girls swooning as you passed them. 

“And you had the choice to show up to the ball, did you not? What did you think was going to happen here if not dancing? Did you think we’d have a canvas laid out for you to do some drawing?” 

You struggled to maintain your gently pleased expression, finding your words to be quite amusing. Judging from the genuine huff of laughter you’d let out, to anyone else you two would’ve seemed to be really hitting it off. 

“We could spend the entire night airing out our… grievances ,” he sighed, “but you still haven’t explained how we have ended up like this.” 

You closed your eyes just briefly enough to roll them, opening them to see his jaw clenched as he glared at you. 

The sigh he breathed out in annoyance succeeded in drawing your attention to your proximity. Only then noticing how differently you felt dancing with him than you did with your previous dance partners who felt as though they would collapse on you at any given moment. Somehow, the viscount felt steadier, making you unconsciously lean into him as you danced. Almost like your body recognised its ability to be dependent in this moment, no matter how minuscule the moment was. Like muscle memory. 

Lifting your gaze up to his face, you tried not to let it linger for too long on his lips, their colour reminding you of a rose and hinted at the softness of a rose petal. Feeling the tap of his fingers against your back was what nudged your gaze to his eyes, understanding a little better why the gossip about him usually involved the word ‘beautiful’. 

“I might be able to die and resurrect before you start explaining—” 

“If I must explain,” you cut him off, earning a huff from him, “I usually write fake names on my dance card because eighteen dances are simply eighteen-too-many bouts of dancing with strange old men. Your name just happened to grace my ears when I was doing so.” 

Jaehyun huffed, “And what did you think was going to happen here if not dancing?” He repeated your words back to you with an all-too-smug tone. 

You let out a deep sigh, funnily enough, almost stumbling but feeling his hand on your back keep you standing upright. 

He did have a point (as annoying as his execution was) but you weren’t going to admit it, of course. It was much more than just ‘dancing’. What happened in these balls could very well determine the future of yourself, your family and your unborn children, as you’ve been so generously reminded time and time again. 

It was as if your mother was in your head, telepathically communicating these reminders to you whenever you were on the brink of letting yourself enjoy what you were doing. You had a responsibility to fulfil as the oldest daughter of your family. Him, however? To be able to waltz in here and expect to leave without dancing and know no one would bat an eye? 

You huffed, fixing your gaze on the space between his eyebrows just so you could look as though you were deeply attentive. 

“Must be nice not having to worry about your future,” you rolled your eyes. 

That seemed to have struck a nerve with the Viscount, who frowned slightly at your words, an uncomfortable silence falling between the both of you. 

“Was that the real reason you wrote my name down?” he finally spoke. His gaze seemed to truly hold offence now, feeling even more distant from him even though you were standing so close to him. The realisation that he truly was a stranger sinking in deeply, filling you with discomfort. 

You didn’t seem to catch on to his implication at first, only realising after you’d recalled what you said to warrant such a reaction from him.  

“I’m not after your money,” you told him plainly, seeing his frown grow deeper. 

“You expect me to believe you?” 

You glared at him, frowning slightly, his expression only mirroring yours. 

“It seems I would be better off not expecting anything from you,” you huffed, “but you cannot expect anyone in this room not to be after you for your money. You’re surely smart enough to know that when you step into this room...” 

You shook your head, each word seeming more for yourself than for the Viscount, a reminder that even now you were still meant to be playing your long, tedious game. 

“...  you are no longer viewed as yourself, only your eligibility, how well you’re able to act out your role. And if we were to go by that, I would be dancing with Mr Nakamoto there instead.” 

The viscount followed the direction you had gestured in with your head, spotting the man standing next to your mother and chaperone. 

“That’s Mr Nakamoto?” The viscount murmured, something almost akin to recognition in the man’s eyes as they met his own. The name seemed to ring a bell with him, though there was still a sense of unfamiliarity in his thoughtful expression. He didn’t think it was the kind of familiarity he would feel from a recent memory. Perhaps he would ask Johnny. 

“Yes. Do you know him?” 

There was no reply. A part of you was curious, wondering why his silence irked you so much. 

At the viscount’s silence, you had only then realised the song was coming to an end. He let go of you as quickly as the song allowed, bowing out of courtesy and leading you to where your mother and Mr Nakamoto were, a certain discomfort in his expression that you could not seem to place, “By all means.” 

And just as you said, he’d left the ball right after, no one batting an eye (but almost everyone running their mouths). 

Still recovering from your exchange, you fixed your gloves, huffing at no one in particular, seeing Mr Nakamoto direct a rather amused smile towards you. 

“Are you feeling alright? I hope dancing with the viscount wasn’t as dizzying as it looked.” 

Your eyebrows raised, mustering a polite smile as you shook your head, determined to leave thoughts of the Viscount behind. 

“Oh, no. Not at all. Yes, I’m perfectly fine.” Or you hoped to be in a while, at least.  

Mr Nakamoto, you discovered over the rest of the evening, was nothing short of a perfect gentleman (going by your sister’s manuals). You struggled to find a flaw (and trust me, you were searching hard for it). 

Beneath his extravagant clothes, confident demeanour, good dancing and how well-read he was about topics you could definitely see your father being eager to discuss over meals, you found that he was everything your mother was looking for. But other than the boxes he ticked off of her ‘Ideal son-in-law checklist’, there was nothing that compelled you to grow more acquainted with him. There wasn’t that… spark of attraction you would imagine was a non-negotiable aspect of the romance novels you read and plays you watched. The closest you’d gotten to feeling that tonight was in your sheer annoyance towards the viscount. 

Unfortunately for you, there was much longer left for you to endure before you would be able to return home, but Mr Nakamoto’s company proved to be… sufficient. 

Mr Nakamoto (whose first name you later heard from your mother was Yuta), kept you busy for the rest of the ball, occupied and mildly entertained with many stories about his travels (most of which you couldn’t differentiate between truth or lie). You would’ve even considered it a plus with how much he was talking, you were free to eat your supper in peace, undisturbed by other men due to Yuta’s riveting tales. 

“I haven’t travelled much myself, but whatever you described does sound very lovely,” you would comment once in a while, feeling as though you were talking to the little children you would see at the market. You would smile, nod and coo at their stories without much care if they were reality or fiction. It was almost like an escape from reality, one you welcomed with open arms tonight. 

“Do you have any siblings?” he asked suddenly, making you straighten up after a while of quietly enjoying your supper. 

“Yes, a younger sister,” you murmured, “she’s not out yet, though.” 

Yuta hummed over a mouthful of food, swallowing it with a wince before continuing, “Are you two close?” 

You smiled, a small huff leaving you as you shrugged, “Well, yes, I suppose that is one way you could describe it.” 

Yuta huffed, smiling as if recalling something (a story you assumed). 

“Did I say something amusing?” 

Yuta smiled, shaking his head, “No, it just reminded me of these siblings I met while I was in America…” setting off into yet another story about his travels. 

Though you really didn’t mind, he was just giving you more stories to tell your sister once you got home. 

You were at your wits end when it was time for the ball to be over, feeling as though you’d used up all your energy for the season from just dancing and listening to Yuta’s stories. You’d wanted nothing more than to simply curl into bed and sleep the rest of the week away. 

Exchanging greetings as you parted ways, you tried hard to ignore the way your mother was looking at you as you returned to your carriage, head feeling heavy yet still feeling tension in your limbs, unable to fully relax with your mother in the carriage with you. 

“He’s a very pleasant man,” she murmured, gaze trained outside the window as if she could see anything other than trees and empty road. 

“Who?” you frowned. 

“Who else? Mr Nakamoto.” 

You let out a deep sigh, the breath you took in not satisfying the breathlessness you felt, nodding. 

“He is,” your reply was curt, leaving no room for elaboration, though that didn’t seem to stop your mother. 

“I heard from one of the ladies that he’s planning on staying here for a while. Planning to buy the estate near the park. You know, the one with the balcony that overlooks the lake. It’s an expensive property.” 

You hummed. 

You wanted to be interested, you really did. But the movement of the carriage was starting to make your head pound and you didn’t think you had any energy left in you to pretend to be bothered about whether Yuta’s potential estate overlooked anything . 

Deeming your fatigue as a sort of defiance, your mother’s tongue clicked sharply as she shook her head at you.

“How can you be so… “ she scoffed, shaking her head, “need I remind you that you are doing this for the family? You need to start taking ownership of your responsibility in this whole affair.” 

You sighed, shifting in your seat and directing your gaze towards her, “I know.” 

Though you tried your best to remain respectful with your tone, your irritation got the better of you, “I am taking ownership. Am I not allowed to be tired after a whole night of dancing and socialising?” 

“This is not just ‘ dancing and socialising ’. You need to realise the gravity of what just one dance could affect, for your family’s sake.” 

Of course you knew that, but it wasn’t as if you could get her to see things from your perspective. She was your mother, and the last time she’d seen from any perspective other than that was before you were born. 

You huffed, suppressing the many words you’d wished to have her hear, trying to remind yourself that words were unlikely to get you anywhere near an understanding with her. That would suffice for the night until you slept off your anger.

Nodding in hopes that it would appease her, you focused on your breathing, hoping it would somehow ease your headache that was coming on stronger than you’d wished. Unfortunately for you, you’ve come to learn that your mothers worries were only ever vented through such exchanges with you, though they weren't much of an exchange to begin with.  

“Think of your father,” you couldn’t help the wave of discomfort that washed over you at the mention of him, as if you could feel his presence in the carriage at the mere mention of him, domineering and tense. 

“He slaved away for his whole life to ensure his daughters could be viewed as respectable ladies in society. It is a privilege to even attend a ball like you just did. And yet you act as if we’re putting you through torture!” 

Torture was one label for it; your long, tedious game. 

“You are the oldest, you are to set an example for your sister. I do not wish for you to taint her innocence with your… your insolence .” 

You nodded, almost wanting to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. With how much they fed her those manuals on what a respectable man and woman should be, how they kept her in the house as much as possible, allowed not even for her to paint because of how it would dirty her clothing, it was a wonder how they thought anything could possibly ‘ taint’ her at all. 

Though at the same time, you would be lying if you said you didn’t wish to live as quiet and simple a life as she did, out of the loop of all the burdens and worries that seemed to follow your family for generations, growing more complex with each cycle it made. 

“I know,” you stifled your sigh lest she use that as another example of your ‘insolence’, “I’m sorry,” you murmured, a foolproof way of appeasing her you’d come to learn after a lifetime of experience. Whether you meant it was an entirely separate matter.  

Your words seemed to have their intended effect, allowing you to sit in the quiet tension of the carriage ride until you felt it come to a stop, hearing the rustling of the footman moving to open the carriage door, exiting with haste that only came with the feeling of a successful escape. 

Your sister was quick to meet you in your bedroom as you reached your bedroom, timed with a precision you both knew came with too much time spent at home. 

“I didn’t expect you to be awake,” you huffed, earning a shrug from her, a book you recognised to be from your father’s library in her hands, her finger tucked between the pages she stopped at. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” she sighed, a dreamy look in her eyes that you supposed held all sorts of hope to hear stories of love and romance, “I suppose I was too excited for you.” 

You sighed. 

“I hope that was a good sigh,” she inched closer, dog-earing the page she was on and tossing it aside, the book thumping softly on your stool. 

She shifted on your bed, making herself comfortable as you changed out of your clothes leaving just your nightgown, glancing at her through her reflection in your standing mirror. 

“I hope it was too,” you huffed, allowing yourself to be amused at your own joke, even though you didn’t very well feel like making light of your horrible night.

“How was it? Did anybody catch your eye?” 

Your thoughts ran first to the Viscount (and his rosy lips—this wasn’t your fault, really.) It upset you, how he of all people had left a lasting impression on you even though you’d spent hours and hours talking to Mr Nakamoto. It upset you how you just knew that even if you did tell others about his lousy manners or his condescending demeanour, no one would have wanted to believe you, everyone already believed he was what they wanted him to be; a gentleman straight out of one of your sister’s manuals. 

“There were… some , I suppose,” you spoke as vaguely as you could, hoping that would be enough to satisfy her (even though you knew it wouldn’t).

“Handsome?” The lilt in her tone was awfully hopeful.

You sighed, turning to her with a knowing look, “Handsomely rich .” 

Her mouth fell open, features pulling into a frown, “You know for a fact I didn’t mean money. Were they charming? Attractive?” 

“I suppose one of them was… not ugly,” you felt embarrassed saying it, for some reason, as if you could anticipate the viscount’s reaction if he’d heard your words. The way the corner of his lips would curl up in a smirk, tilting his chin up at you with all the arrogance and cockiness in his being. 

For some reason, you were afraid to voice out your thoughts on him. Perhaps it was the fault of the little nagging voice that persisted in your head, telling you that it truly didn’t matter if you thought he was physically attractive, because you didn’t stand a chance to begin with. Voicing it out almost seemed like a jinx, a nail in the coffin that forced you to face this reality instead of living in the hope that he could have harboured good feelings towards you too; simply for the pleasure that came with being perceived by someone like him. 

You figured now wasn’t the time for you to start getting comfortable with hoping. 

Turning to your sister with a shrug, you spoke, “But he had the worst demeanour.” 

“I heard a Viscount asked you to dance. It couldn’t have been him, could it?” 

Perhaps it was those very manuals that led her to this assumption. 

Though it was for her own good, you found yourself not wanting to burst her bubble. She needed to know that it wasn’t about whether they were a Viscount or not, but that the men she would encounter in the marriage market in general weren’t as fairytale-like as they were written out to be. The likelihood of marrying someone you found even mildly attractive was rare. Yet the hope she held was important, precious almost. 

Although the growing desire to find a love match was gaining popularity these days, you didn’t consider yourself to have that luxury. It seemed all too indulgent, saved for people who could afford to worry about things like love. Not a lady like you, the eldest daughter of her family carrying her parents’ burden on her weary shoulders. 

“Do you think all viscounts are handsome and kind?” you laughed, beginning to undo your hair. 

“Don’t know. Never met one before,” she sighed, “which is precisely why I’m asking you. ” 

You hummed, “Well, the other man I spent most of the night with wasn’t exactly better. He spent most of the time talking about himself, but I suppose it was good entertainment.” 

“So he wasn’t the handsome one?” 

“The viscount?” you frowned. 

Your sister’s eyes lit up, her smile growing, “So, you think the viscount’s handsome?” 

Realising your mistake, you narrowed your eyes at her, “I think it’s best you forget about him.” 

Somehow, the words left a bitter taste on your tongue, your sister’s expression of confusion making you feel almost frustrated, “I’m only saying this because I don’t think we’ll be seeing much of him after tonight.” 

You made your way over to your bed, getting into bed and shifting to find a comfortable position, your sister still sitting next to you and looking at you with that same thoughtful expression. 

“Are you that upset about it?” you huffed, trying to read into her emotions, “It’s nothing to worry about, really. Mother seems to have found a man that’s to her liking, you know, finances, property, intelligence and manners all included.” 

She shook her head, mustering a small smile, “No, It’s not that. I was just wondering… how difficult it’s probably going to be for me to find a husband.” 

You frowned. 

“You have loads of accomplishments. You’re going to be fine,” you assured her, choosing gentle words that paved a way for a peaceful conclusion as always, though your words seemed to have weighed heavier on her, a small sigh leaving her as she toyed with your bedsheet under her hand. You would be lying if you said it didn’t spark some sort of competitive urge to prove that you could find better words to dissipate her worry. 

She sighed, briefly glancing at you before looking away, mumbling in a way that was almost reluctant to be heard, “Love is important too, you know.” 

You fell silent at her words, the ache in you growing obvious again. That ache for the kind of rest that went beyond physical things. One that seemed natural for you to forego, for everyone’s sake but yours. 

You nodded, swallowing the dryness in your throat. You sifted through your archive of neutral, concluding words, words that you didn’t necessarily believe for yourself, but words that would suffice for now. 

“I’m sure it will find you,” you murmured. 

There was nothing but silence in the room afterwards. feeling yourself starting to get drowsy as your sister got up, walking over to your bedside stool to retrieve her book. 

“What’s his name?” she murmured. 

At your silence, she continued, “you know, maybe I can keep my ears open for any gossip when I go to the flower market,” she insisted, eager to have a little bit of adventure in her otherwise mundane days, clearly. 

You thought about it just for a moment, wondering if your pride overpowered your curiosity on what kind of gossip she would hear. You figured that in this moment, you couldn’t deny your curiosity. 

“Jung Jaehyun.” 

Only after she left, you realised she hadn’t specified who she was referring to. 

===

The ache did not disappear when you woke up near the afternoon, as much as you wished it did. Frankly, you didn’t manage to get much sleep at all, the sound of your door bursting open being what jolted you awake. 

No words were exchanged, simply your mother rummaging through your drawers she used for storage for something she couldn’t seem to find, returning empty-handed to wherever she came from. 

Figuring you could have something to eat before returning to bed, you got dressed, heading to the dining room. You saw your sister and your mother there eating breakfast, the staff clearing what you assumed to be your father’s used plates and utensils. It was almost strange how you felt yourself relax at the knowledge of not having to sit through a meal with him. 

“Good morning,” your sister’s grin was on full display as you sat next to her, “there’s a surprise for you in the drawing room.” 

“Surprise?” you frowned, taking a bite of your food even though you weren’t all that hungry, knowing it would set your mother off if you weren’t eating. 

As if it were orchestrated by some divine power, you heard the low vibrations of what could only be a man’s voice in your otherwise female-occupied household. 

Men, as in, plural? 

You stared at the doorway of the dining room, a strange feeling in your gut as you heard the voices grow louder, your sister seeming to catch on as she grabbed your hand, forcing you to abandon your breakfast as she led you to the drawing room. 

“A fresh one,” she smiled, her clues not giving you any idea of what awaited you in the drawing room. 

“Living and breathing?” You weren’t sure why you were breathless, but you became sure when you saw the man standing next to your father, whose gaze had met yours with a certain finality and hadn’t bothered tearing itself away. 

Living and breathing, right in front of your eyes. 

“Roses!” your sister chipped in, “pink ones. And white clovers too.”  

Viscount Jung Jaehyun, standing just a few paces away from you and your sister in your drawing room as your father talked his ear off about the renovations he wanted to make to the estate. 

It irked you how your thoughts had almost instantly shifted to the rosy lips of the viscount, allowing yourself to wonder just for a moment if the flowers were from him. It gave you whiplash to think of him gifting you such romantic flowers after the exchange you both shared just hours before. 

Perhaps they were meant as some sort of an apology? Perhaps the viscount had dug deep within himself to find that his behaviour was far from pleasant. Yes , if that was the case, maybe you were right to think he wasn’t as horrible as he seemed, maybe the viscount had some decency in him after all. 

“The name on the card didn’t sound familiar, but I figured you would know once you see it!” 

That seemed to have caught Jaehyun’s attention (as much as he tried to hide it), though he masked his curiosity well as he pretended to be fascinated with the interior of your drawing room. 

Rolling your shoulders back, you fixed your posture, reaching a hand out to the little card that was perched delicately in the midst of the flowers, a simple handwritten card that read: 

- To thank you for the pleasure of your company -  Nakamoto Yuta 

“Are they from the viscount?” your sister asked loudly, earning a sharp nudge from you that sent her stumbling, your gaze darting to the viscount and missing the smirk that had graced his lips. 

You shook your head, murmuring, “The other man.” 

Your sister wasn’t doing a very good job in saving your face in front of the viscount, making no move to hide her dismay as her lips parted with a sigh of disappointment, “The boring one?” 

Grabbing her hand quickly, you led her back to the dining room, making sure your voice was more than audible as you walked past the viscount. 

“The only man from the evening who was worth remembering,” you commented, suppressing your satisfaction when you heard the viscount clear his throat, suggesting to move to your father’s office for a more conducive discussion. 

Just as you’d settled back into your seat at the dining table, feeling more of an appetite to eat now after your little success in irking the viscount, your mother spoke from where she stood by the doorway, glancing out of the window briefly as she fixed her gloves. 

“Get dressed, we should be ready to entertain callers soon.” 

“Callers?” you couldn’t help but frown, hearing your sister grunt from where she was beside you. 

“I’ve invited Mr Nakamoto for some tea, perhaps the two of you could go for a stroll in the late afternoon.”  You inhaled deeply, something about the proposal not seeming to entice you as much as your curiosity as to what was going on in your father’s office with the viscount. It was a shame even boring estate talk could seem more appealing to you than conversation and a stroll with an attractive, eligible suitor. 

“Well that’s my cue to leave, then. Wouldn’t want to be caught in the crossfire of mindless talk,” amusement left your sister in hushed giggles, her chair screeching against the wooden floor loudly as she got up, making you cringe at the sound she was otherwise unaffected by. 

Your mother hadn’t bothered acknowledging her departure, though you heard your sister’s footsteps bounding up the stairs, the sound of her bidding your father goodbye before the same thumping down the stairs echoed till the front door was shut. 

You sighed, looking out of the window at the cloud cover that kept the sun from gracing anything beneath it, choosing once again to push your feelings behind you for the sake of your mother who wanted to ensure security for your future. For the sake of your father who longed to retire. For the sake of your sister who was still trusting that there was love and hope in her world. 

You would receive Mr Nakamoto and you would do so gracefully. Another step towards the end goal in your long, tedious game. 

=== 

The afternoon went perfectly. A little too perfectly, if you were being honest. 

It was almost frustrating, how there was barely anything to complain about when it came to Yuta. He was on his best behaviour today, even managing to start and sustain a very well-developed conversation with your father when he had come down with the viscount briefly while they made their way to the other part of your estate. 

And there you sat, like a jilted lover during the whole exchange, frustrated at the fact that Yuta had somehow managed to have everybody smitten for him, except yourself. A little nagging in your gut had tried to convince you that perhaps that was how Yuta wanted to go about this; winning over your family so he wouldn’t have to try so hard to win you over, as if this was his strategy in his own long, tedious game. 

Even as you went out to promenade by the lake, you struggled to be present to the man next to you. 

“Did you like the flowers?” he asked, earning a blank stare from you till you managed to register his question. 

“Oh, yes I did. They’re lovely flowers.” 

“Do you happen to have a liking for them? I saw many arrangements in your house when your mother was showing me around.” 

You shook your head, the sudden recollection of your sister’s words about mindless small talk coming to mind as you dismissed them with a huff, “Not particularly. I mean, I do like them, but I wouldn’t go as far as making arrangements and whatnot. That is more of my sister’s hobby.” 

Yuta hummed, “Do you have a favourite?” 

Glancing up at Yuta, the way his smile was relaxed, his attention seemed to be solely focused on you. Something about it threw you off guard, wondering why he’d taken a liking to you when you were sure his smile and his charm would have any girl in your neighbourhood begging for his attention (perhaps just not yourself included).

“Lilacs.” 

Yuta’s smile grew, looking somewhat pleased with your answer.

“Is first love something you hold dear to yourself?” 

You let out a huff at that, impressed that he was familiar with the language of flowers, the thought of his pink roses from the morning making you feel somewhat uncomfortable at his pursuit. 

You shook your head, “I’ve never actually… experienced it before.” 

Yuta’s next words had stilled your fingers over your umbrella, wondering if he’d taken the words straight out of one of the romance novels in your bookshelf. 

“I’d like to think it feels like this,” he sighed, a serene expression on his face as you walked together, “being able to share this with you.” 

You were holding your breath, you were sure of it. But why wasn’t this feeling as heart-fluttering as you were expecting? Sure, his words were nice to hear, but was it because you were too distracted at the moment? 

Now, you were frustrated. It wasn’t as if you could go back in time to ask him to repeat himself in the hope that you would feel something. Perhaps you were just tired, you told yourself (even if you knew that really wasn’t the reason behind your apathy). 

“Shall we head back?” 

Even as you were walking back, Yuta didn’t seem to let up as easily. His demeanour was vastly different from how it was at the ball. This time, he was asking you more questions about yourself, as if he were specifically orchestrating dialogue sequences that would allow him to insert romantic one-liners like the one before. Though they were flowery, and by the nature of the word you figured flowery would mean they were pleasant, but you were at a loss with the way they left you feeling well… not exactly pleased . You were hearing him, definitely, but you were stuck feeling like he wasn’t really hearing you. 

As you were walking back, you reached your house just as the viscount’s carriage was leaving, tensing up as you saw your father standing next to the little flower garden behind the gates of your house as he saw the viscount off. 

You avoided his gaze, hoping you would be able to walk past him without being stopped, but it seemed that wasn’t the case with how Yuta greeted your father with much more enthusiasm than you’d seen him bear all day. 

You’d taken that as your queue to enter the house first, the sound of the piano echoing from the walls indicating your sister was home and that made you all the more eager to be in the company of someone you actually wanted to see today. Your father and Yuta followed behind you, not seeming to be affected by your absence as you drew closer to your sister, finally feeling as though you could relax slightly more in her presence. 

“How was it?” she whispered, glancing not-so-subtly at Yuta, earning a small mustered smile from yourself. 

“He was lovely,” you told her, (which in fact, wasn’t a lie). 

She grinned. 

“He’s handsome too, I must say. But even so, he can’t be compared to the man father was talking to this morning. They each have a different… air,” her shoulders lifted as she spoke, arms moving in the way your old piano tutor called ‘with emotion’ as she played, “you know, in the way they carry themselves.” 

You let out a deep sigh, nodding slowly, “You do know that man is the viscount I mentioned the night before, don’t you?” 

Her playing faltered abruptly (though your father and Yuta were too distracted to notice), slowly picking up where she’d left off, “ The viscount? The one named Jung Jaehyun? He was the man father was talking to?” 

Her amazement was obvious, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t understand why she was so shocked. 

You nodded, “The ill-mannered one.” 

She frowned, “That’s unfortunate, then. He really did live up to what the townspeople were saying about him. Beauty and grace and elegance… a man that looks like everything he touches turns to gold.” 

You rolled your eyes, amusement hinted in your smile, “Not everything gold is worth wanting.” 

“Would you say Mr Nakamoto is the exception, then? More worth wanting than the Midas-touch-viscount himself?” She scoffed.

You didn’t have an answer for that, maybe because you weren’t convinced of the one you were going to offer her.  

“We’ll see. He just might have to be.” 

She giggled, seemingly satisfied with your answer as she resumed playing the piano, the lilting melody carrying you elsewhere for the moment until Yuta was done with the conversation he was having with your father, bidding you goodbye as he left. 

As your father made his way over to you, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, resisting the urge to look away and fidget in your discomfort. “I’m going to be away in the afternoons for business over the next few days, so you’ll be handling the meetings with the viscount on the estate. I trust that you’re already well versed on what needs to be taken care of.” 

“Will mother be joining—” 

“What good will that do?” he huffed, “Do not waste your time with these silly questions. There is no need to get her or your sister involved and cause them unnecessary stress. You are capable enough of handling it on your own.” 

You sighed, watching him leave in the direction of his office, leaving you to slump onto the sofa next to where your sister was, curling into a comfortable position for a nap as the gentle melody worked on lulling you to a place where your worries were far away and rest seemed within reach. 

=== 

If Jaehyun was surprised to see you the next day, he didn’t show it, simply glancing at you as he entered the house, nodding his head as if he’d expected you to be there (even if he really didn’t). 

“I trust my father has briefed you that I'll be handling the estate matters while he’s away?” you were first to break the silence, watching as one of his hands moved to touch the pads of his fingertips, looking somewhat preoccupied. Or perhaps, he was recalling his exchange with your father, looking at you curiously. Though that curiosity had left as soon as it came, replaced with a playful glint in his eyes. 

“My apologies,” his tone was anything but remorseful, punctuated by the little smirk that was playing at his lips, “I figure you’d much rather be… well, handling Mr Nakamoto.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, “D’you fancy yourself a comedian, my lord?” 

Jaehyun had simply shrugged, showing some modesty in the small shake of his head. 

“Good. Because you’d be a very poor one.” 

You began to lead him to your father’s office, Jaehyun noticing the way your steps had slowed as you grew nearer to the door, the deep breath you’d taken in before your hands had met the doorknob, turning it and pushing only to be met with a smell that was unmistakably like your father. 

Hints of a pipe smoked hours ago, the smell of his library books, ink on his desk, the musk and citrus and alcohol that blended together to form the imposing presence of your father even when he wasn’t here. Your posture had straightened and your steps became quiet and wary almost instinctively. 

You stayed far from his desk, as you had always done, surprising Jaehyun with the way you’d simply taken the documents you needed and sat yourself on one of the chairs in the office, legs crossing uncomfortably as you gripped the papers in your hands.

Eyeing you carefully, Jaehyun made his way to the chair nearest to you, pulling out his own blueprints that he and your father had discussed the day before. 

“Did my…” you began, throat feeling dry all of a sudden at the sight of the documents before you, “did my father tell you what I had to go over on his behalf?” 

Jaehyun simply tilted his head at you. 

“We’ve gone over it actually, he… just told me to ask you for the stamp and to clear the financial documents. He mentioned that you took care of the family’s accounts.” 

You figured you shouldn’t have been surprised that your father didn’t actually want your opinion on his decisions. You’d just let yourself get carried away thinking he wanted to know what you thought about the things he made you responsible for. 

“Oh, so my business here is simply for the seal, am I correct to say that—?”

“No, actually, I would appreciate it if I could go over these plans with you once before you approve them. It’s only sensible if—” 

You shook your head firmly, Jaehyun stopping himself at your gesture, eyebrows furrowing as if the situation was upsetting to him. 

“That won’t be necessary. I would rather not impose on his… plans,” you sighed, averting your gaze from his as you stood up, making your way over to your father’s desk for his seal. 

“Impose?” he quirked an eyebrow, wondering why it was that you seemed to withdraw so easily when it came to your father, “You had no problem imposing on my plans at the ball.” 

Rolling your eyes, you struggled to keep your hands steady as they sifted past the papers on your father’s desk. 

“I would be sorry if your initial plans were any good to begin with,” you murmured distractedly.

It was strange, how you felt as if you were doing something you weren’t supposed to. As if you were secretly rummaging around in his desk while your heart was thrumming wildly at the thought of him walking in and catching you red-handed, feeling the disappointment that would meet you in his gaze, rendering you a little child again who had more familiarity with these belongings than she did her father. 

“If you’re not sorry about that, you could be sorry about the fact that people seem to think I’m courting you now.” 

You debated ignoring his statement, glancing at him only briefly as you arranged the papers in your hand. 

Humming, it seemed your urge to cover up your nerves had shown up in snappy retorts aimed towards Jaehyun, strangely unfiltered with him even though you figured you should’ve been. 

“Of course, because a man like you should be able to show up to a ball simply for the music and drink.” 

Clenching and unclenching your fists, you went about the process as calmly as you could, Jaehyun’s watchful, curious eyes unnerving you even as you made the seal. 

“Are you alright?” he spoke suddenly, earning a sharp inhale and a glare from you in return, your grip tightening around the seal. Whether it was because the question felt out of place, or whether it was the fact that he had caught on to your discomfort, you would rather not admit. 

You shut your father’s desk drawer with a quiet click, habitual movements from many instances of sneaking in here as a child for writing materials. 

“What does it matter to you?” 

“No, just… does my presence here make you uncomfortable?” his eyebrows furrowed, what seemed like genuine curiosity taking over his features once again. 

Trust you to be defensive, though. 

A scoff left you, the thud of the beaten book that you used to keep track of your family’s accounts dropping against your father’s desk echoing through the room as if that were your form of exerting your dominance over the room and everything it represented. 

“Has the thought only crossed your mind now? Besides, don’t flatter yourself,” you scoffed, “your presence doesn't have that much of an effect on me.” 

That would’ve done it , you figured. You could imagine the way his lips would curl into a sarcastic smile, or how he would simply scoff and announce that it was about time for him to leave. Anything but what followed next. 

“Maybe not mine, but your father’s seems to.” 

Somehow, you almost wished your sister was here to defuse the tension in the room, or to crack a joke to save you from having to face such an observation. But she wasn’t, and the truth of the matter was that you were sitting here facing a stranger who seemed confident that they could read you like an open book.

And maybe, his confidence wasn’t completely unfounded. 

A silence fell between the both of you, tense and ridden with an understanding both of you were aware of but neither were willing to put down their pride first to admit. 

You scoffed, waving him off in dismissal as naturally as you could, “You’ve never seen us interact.” 

“I don’t have to,” he huffed, speaking matter-of-factly, “you’ve been… tense ever since I suggested having our meeting in his office.” 

“I just don’t like being in stuffy offices,” you shrugged again, pretending to be busy with your notebook. 

Jaehyun rolled his eyes, confidence in his stare as he leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs, “ Or the person the stuffy office belongs to.” 

Your sharp gaze met his almost instantly, letting out a small huff of air through your nose. You were at a loss of a witty retort, though somehow that didn’t feel as damning as you thought it would; the viscount didn’t seem to be attacking today in the same way he was before at the ball. 

“It’s not a crime, you know,” he murmured, cutting you some slack from the way he averted his gaze to fiddle with his sleeve, “you’re not expected to be amiable with him all the time. At least not in my book.” 

You attempted to swallow in the hopes that it would make the lump in your throat feel less suffocating, to no avail. 

“Amiable,” you echoed, huffing at his choice of words. Even on good days, you don’t think you could use a word like that to describe your interactions with your father. 

Jaehyun searched your expression, reading into your silence, shaking his head dismissively, “Sorry if I overstepped, I don’t usually have the habit of voicing out my observations so… carelessly.” 

You didn’t believe him, strangely. Everything about what had just transpired between the both of you seemed anything but careless. Instead, it came with all the intentionality of trying to understand someone. Somehow, that knowledge made you less inclined to hold back in front of him. 

When you finally felt like your voice wouldn’t give, you spoke, “Are you speaking from experience?” 

His eyebrows raised in question, “My father?” 

You nodded, earning a huff from him. Now it was your turn to watch him shift in his discomfort, averting his gaze and swallowing thickly.  “Never really had much of a relationship with him or my mother… I uh… I lived with my aunt and uncle since I was a child.” 

“Did you have much of a relationship with them, then?” 

Jaehyun shrugged. 

“Not as much as I did with my tutors,” he huffed, perhaps in some attempt to lighten the mood, “they were the ones I spent most of my time with.” 

You hummed, hands stilling around the papers you had yet to hand over to him. 

At your lack of an immediate response, he looked up, continuing, “It’s nothing to pity me for. They raised me as best as they could.” 

“I don’t pity you,” you spoke. 

Sure, it wasn’t exactly pity that you felt, but you weren’t sure what exactly the feeling that stirred in your chest even was. Perhaps it was a desire to be as grateful for your parents as he was? Perhaps it was an understanding of the little insistence that he didn’t want to be pitied. Perhaps it was the breathlessness that came with the way he was looking at you now, expectant for your reply. 

Whatever it was, you found yourself recalling your conversation with your sister, feeling almost embarrassed at how even now, you still thought he was capable of turning things to gold. 

“You don’t?” he questioned, his tone uncharacteristically gentle, unlike anything you’ve heard before. 

“Do you want me to?” you weren’t sure why you were asking, simply curious how he would reply. 

Jaehyun let out a huff through his nose, shaking his head. He wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to elicit from you. Although it was definitely something , he could say certainly that pity definitely wasn’t what it was. 

“No, I don’t.” 

You held his gaze, nodding. “Good, I don’t want you to pity me either.” 

Before he could reply, you straightened up, handing the documents back to him with your father’s seal already in its rightful place. Taking in a deep breath, he stood up, taking you back almost immediately to what it felt like to dance with him at the ball, your proximity to him now allowing you to feel him towering over you, though strangely without the condescension that was present before. 

“A lady like you shouldn’t care for my pity,” he murmured, the faintest of smiles playing at his lips. 

And just like that, it was as if the exchange never happened, as if you both didn’t just bare a part of your souls to each other. Jaehyun straightened out his clothes, averting his gaze to the floor as you both allowed the façade of banter to mask the windedness that came from suddenly feeling all-too exposed. 

“You won’t need to tell me twice.” 

===

“You wouldn’t believe what I heard at the flower market,” your sister barged into your room as you were getting ready to attend a soiree that evening.

Your eyebrows raised, smoothing down your dress before sitting on your bed, giving her an expectant look. 

“It appears Lord Jung is an anti-social man,” she began, “a few of the ladies at the flower market were talking about him, they said he’s rarely seen with people other than those he does business with. I interpreted that as the man having no friends, but that’s quite sad, isn’t it?” 

You shrugged, “I figure something like that is subjective.” 

Your sister didn’t seem convinced, “I think it’s lonely. Not having anyone to talk to about your life, about your struggles, about your joys… only being able to talk about your business wherever you go. I find that an awfully lonely way to live.” 

Huffing, you got up from your bed, “He doesn’t seem keen on finding a marriage partner either so perhaps he’s more comfortable in this loneliness than you think.” 

“I don’t believe it,” she grunted, “but it does make some sense. Maybe that’s why his manners aren’t the best, because he’s used to talking to cunning old businessmen.” 

You let out a huff of laughter, “You sound like you’re defending him.” 

Giving you a shrug, she hummed, “Maybe if you see him at the soirée later you can find out for yourself if he’s worth defending,” she smiled. 

You could only sigh at that, glancing out the door when you heard your mother calling for you. 

“That is, if Mr Nakamoto doesn’t talk my ears off before that.” 

One thing about soirées, or these public events during the season in general, was that they didn’t allow for much privacy at all. It wasn’t like you were in the confines of your father’s study with the viscount’s full attention on you, no. You were in someone else’s house, with many many different eyes on you, at the receiving end of everybody’s attention except the very person who wouldn’t seem to leave your mind. 

It was as if you were being shadowed by Yuta, your mother looking on with delight as your chaperone while the both of you conversed and you nursed your glass of whatever drink he’d handed to you. In such a setting, you couldn’t help but be hyper-aware of your posture, your manners, your tone of voice, the way you held your fan, even the way you would time your glances towards Yuta. All part of your tedious game, you supposed— to win the affections of a man you felt no real desire towards. 

What did you desire, then? You wondered. His attention? His approval? You continued with the knowledge that even if you didn’t desire him, you wanted to feel worthy of his desire. It was messy, and it felt manipulative. But you figured those were things you’d signed up for the moment you started playing this game (however unwillingly). 

You could see Jaehyun standing at the corner of the room next to the grand piano, looking intently at the multitude of sheet music next to the piano. The sight was almost amusing when you recalled your sister’s words, because indeed as you looked at him now, the sheer intent of his glare on the sheet music would be enough to intimidate anyone from initiating a conversation with him. 

“Do you know how to play?” Yuta’s words had caught your attention, and you’d almost grimaced at the realisation that you’d been walking towards the piano. Stopping just a few paces away from the piano, you cast a brief glance at Jaehyun who was still glaring at the sheet music in his hands. 

“No, no. I don’t, actually.” 

Yuta smiled, “I would offer to play something for you, but it seems viscount Jung has beat me to it,” he murmured as you heard the melody start to sound from the piano. You knew this piece, it was the one your sister was playing when Jaehyun had visited your house the other day. 

For some reason, the piece held much more melancholy than you realised, or maybe it was the way he was playing it, holding you (and all the other women in the room, you guessed) captive, unable to look elsewhere. 

You weren’t even paying attention to what you were talking to Yuta about, feeling the words come out of your mouth but paying no attention to what you were actually saying. Little did you know that as focused as Jaehyun seemed on his playing, every word of yours was flitting into his mind and refusing to leave. 

“I was always envious of people who could play the piano,” you sighed almost wistfully, earning a hum from Yuta. 

“Were you not tutored for it?” 

You shook your head, “It wasn’t something I was interested in when I was younger, but I suppose as I grew older, the music started to feel comforting to an extent. Only I was simply a listener, not the one who conveyed such comfort,” you huffed, attempting to make light of your feelings. 

Yuta, as always, replied with his flowery lines, not being able to pick up on how you were really feeling and taking your words at surface level with a smile.

“Well, you certainly are an excellent conversationalist, so I would still consider myself accomplished if I were you.” 

You hummed, brushing off your discomfort and mustering a smile, “Thank you.” 

Jaehyun had to withhold his amusement, wondering again why it was that you were so willing to withdraw to men like Yuta, men who were all-too-familiar with manipulating their words to their advantage. If you’d simply bit back with half the amount of snark that you generously gave him, he was sure Yuta would be at a loss for words. 

How frustrating. Surely, you could tell that Yuta was not a good match for you, couldn’t you? 

Coming to the end of his piano piece, Jaehyun stood up, simply picking up his glass of wine that he had set on top of the piano, acting as if he wasn’t the one at the receiving end of the room’s applause. 

Perhaps it was a stroke of divine timing, but one of the servants had approached Yuta, murmuring into his ear something you couldn’t quite catch. Yuta straightened up in response, casting an apologetic glance your way. 

“Forgive me, I need to excuse myself for a moment,” he muttered, rushing off to somewhere you couldn’t truly be bothered to wonder about. 

Jaehyun did not waste the opportunity presented to him, taking just the tiniest of steps closer to you and murmuring behind his glass, “Evening… are you alright?” 

He noticed the way your shoulders were tense, your fidgety gaze around the room, the way you’d kept bringing your glass to your lips but the level of liquid in your glass was barely going down. 

“Please, spare me. I am in no mood for needless bickering tonight,” you huffed, bringing your glass to your lips again to take a small sip. 

Truthfully enough, the ache was back again as you stood in the room filled with chatter and music. The ache of longing for the ability to rid yourself of the façade of the perfect marriage partner that was growing more tiring to uphold. The ache that grew stronger when you conversed with Yuta, feeling as though if you were to enter a marriage with this man, the ache would only intensify. It was dangerous to entertain him in a place like this, because Jaehyun’s presence always seemed to draw you out of this façade. 

“Bickering?” he scoffed, a faint smirk appearing on his lips. 

“Was that not what you approached me for?” you turned to him with a frown, “I suppose the soirée was getting boring for you if you felt the need to take such a drastic measure as to approach me of all people.” 

There you were , he mused. 

Jaehyun shifted another step closer to you, something about his proximity making the conversation between the both of you more obvious, and you could tell from the way your mother was looking at you that it was indeed obvious that you had his attention.

“Oh, not at all. I was hoping I could be reminded what an excellent conversationalist you were,” he drawled, clearly proud of himself judging from the smile playing on his lips. 

You rolled your eyes. “And you suppose you’re any better?” 

“Of course, I am. Anyway, you didn’t answer my question.” 

“You asked me a question? Must not have been worth remembering,” you sighed. 

As much as you felt he annoyed you, you had to admit that it was somewhat relieving not having to be on your ‘best behaviour’ around him. You were sure any chance of marriage would be tossed out of the window if you were to speak in such a manner to Yuta (or any other suitor). 

Jaehyun’s expression grew more serious, eyebrows lifting slightly in concern, “I asked if you were alright.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, suddenly feeling as exposed as you did that day in the study. It was strange how easily he managed to read into your feelings. You figured you’d been doing a good job at masking it. 

“What does it matter? It’s not like you to be so concerned,” you huffed. 

“So, you’re not alright?” he prompted, earning a shrug from you, looking into your glass as though it held the answer you were both looking for. 

“It doesn’t matter if I’m feeling alright or not, the soirée is not going to end anytime soon,” you danced around his question, hoping the mention of the soirée would redirect his line of questioning. 

He noticed the Rubies that were draped around your neck, something about it feeling off. He much preferred the look of the Amethysts you were wearing before, the first time he’d met you. 

“New necklace?” he quirked an eyebrow at you, earning a grunt in response. 

“A gift,” you muttered, “from Mr Nakamoto.” 

“I see. You still haven’t answered my question,” his tone remained firm, eyebrows furrowed and gaze intent on you. 

You clenched and unclenched your fist, turning to him with your eyebrows furrowed, throat feeling dry as you tried to wrangle your voice awake when you met his gaze, uncomfortable at the way his attentiveness tempted you to pour out your feelings to him. 

“Is this really the reason you approached me? Look, I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. What does it matter? ” 

Jaehyun was undeterred, meeting you with the same amount of stubbornness and challenge, “It matters because you’re… different. You behaved… differently when you were talking to Mr Nakamoto.” 

“Compared to what? When I’m talking to you?” the words left you quicker than you could process them. 

“Do you not think so?” he retorted just as quickly, tilting his head at you with the confidence that came from knowing the answer without you having to verbalise it. 

You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. 

“Well… there’s no reason for me to act as though I’m trying to impress you.” 

Jaehyun simply huffed in amusement, tilting his glass slightly as he contemplated uttering the thought that came to mind, going for it anyway. 

“Somehow, that impresses me enough.” 

Unsure what to make of his words, you shifted your gaze elsewhere, adjusting your grip on your glass because your palms had started to feel clammy. You remembered wondering what it would’ve been like at the receiving end of his attention, and now that you had it you were finding that even his words seemed capable of sprinkling gold dust on your heart. 

“I didn’t know you could play the piano,” you changed the subject, your body starting to feel warm under your clothes, burning under the intensity of his gaze, wondering if this was how the sheet music must have felt under his gaze. 

“I picked it up when I was younger. Out of all the instruments I've touched, I would say the piano is the one I tend to return to more.” 

“It’s your favourite?” 

He shook his head. 

“What is your favourite, then?” You found yourself asking, genuinely curious this time instead of just a small-talk formality that you usually followed at such events. 

You wouldn’t have known it, but Jaehyun was feeling the same unfamiliarity as you, feeling as though his body was moving before he could process it. He wasn’t used to holding a conversation like this with someone he barely knew, especially when it wasn’t about business or architecture. And for some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to care about the stares he was receiving as a result of such conversation. 

“The violin,” he admitted almost sheepishly, as if he was embarrassed that he could play an instrument you could only dream of playing. 

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise, gaze wandering to the violin that was perched nearby the piano, after being played by one of the guests when you’d first arrived.

“Why is it your favourite?” 

He hummed, and by now you’d forgotten that Yuta had even promised to return, something in you not being able to find it in yourself to pretend that you were annoyed at Jaehyun’s attention, you truthfully weren’t. For someone as ‘antisocial’ as he was deemed, you found it was comfortable feeling like you didn’t have to present ‘textbook perfect wife’ answers for him. If only your sister could see you now.  

“It was the first instrument I learned as a child… but I moved on to different instruments when I was older because my aunt insisted on me learning other instruments. You know, the more skills, the better. Somehow it’s…” he huffed, amused at his own willingness to share with you, the only person aside from his best friend Johnny that wasn’t keeling over begging to polish the ground he walks on.

It was refreshing, he was realising, to not be treated like he was perfect. 

“It makes me very nostalgic. For that time in my life when there were no worries, you know? When all I had on my mind was the next piece I was eager to ask my tutor to teach me, waiting each day for her to retrieve the sheet music so I could play it until I knew it by heart.” 

Jaehyun continued, “It’s strange, sometimes when I find myself picking up the violin again, it’s like the music just flows out naturally… and I realise I really did know it by heart.” 

You hummed, nodding. 

“Like muscle memory,” you offered, earning a soft smile from him unlike anything you’ve seen before. This one made you feel as though you were catching glimpses of Jaehyun as a child, the little boy whose only worry was for the day the calluses on his fingers would start to disappear.

“Can you play something now?” you weren’t sure what compelled you to ask, but the answer you were met with had surprised you even more. 

“Oh, no no. It’s not… like that,” he huffed, still a hint of sheepishness in the smile that lingered on his features, “I don’t play it that often… rarely. Only when I'm really stressed, if there's too much on my mind.” 

Nodding, you took a fuller sip of your drink, slightly more liberated now that your stomach wasn’t churning like how it was before. 

“Your aunt must’ve really invested a lot of her fortune in your tuition, considering you were tutored for multiple instruments,” you hummed, earning a grunt from him. 

“I suppose she had to, they received too much from my parents each month to not do anything with it,” he sighed, leaning against the bookshelf behind him, turning his head to look at you with tired eyes, “I still remember the way I would look forward to the letters they would send every now and then just to praise me for whatever competition I had won, or whatever certificate I'd achieved.” 

“Do you think it was worth it? All the effort you put in?” you murmured, curious to how he would answer even though you knew you’d be at a loss if the same question was asked to you. Somehow, you felt like his answer would tell you more about him than small talk at balls or promenades would. 

Jaehyun hummed thoughtfully, lips pursing slightly, “That was what love felt like to me back then, the love I felt for music and… their letters, so… do I think it was worth it?” he shrugged, a smile that bordered on bitterness had graced his features, “Do you?” 

Perhaps it was the way you felt like you couldn’t hide under his gaze, or maybe it was the way you felt like he wouldn’t hold your grievances against you. Whatever it was, you found yourself wanting to share with him. And strangely enough, the idea of it had started to scare you less as time went by. 

“My parents were like that too. You know, as the oldest daughter… no news was good news. My duty was to… to not cause worry, to be strong for the family, to take care of my sister, to perform well in all that I did for the family’s sake. For me, it was… like an instruction manual,” you huffed, finding yourself looking to him for affirmation that he understood what you meant, and the knowing smile and nod you received in return made your heart jump in your chest. 

“Do all of this well and you’ll receive your parents’ love. Don’t do it and…” you trailed off, earning a hum from him. 

“Tire yourself out trying and trying again,” he murmured, earning a deep sigh from you. 

Did you think it was worth it? You weren’t sure, but you still found yourself trying nonetheless. 

Jaehyun had succeeded in unlocking a part of you you’d never spoken to anyone about before, and like you said, something about it felt liberating, the solution to your ache starting to feel a little more within reach even if you still weren’t sure what it was. 

“One of my friends, Johnny, has a pretty strong view about this… he says that people are fickle… that we can change based on the slightest of factors…” 

“Your friend sounds a little bitter.” 

The viscount laughed, “Quite the contrary, actually, I think he’s quite the romantic… just overly managing his expectations.” 

“Is that so? What made him have such views, then?” 

The viscount hummed, pressing his lips in a firm line before parting them to speak, “Money, I suppose. How people react to money, how he’s seen it change the way people treat a person. Sometimes, it’s difficult to tell whether a person is enamoured with you or the security your wealth provides. Though, with the way things are, it leaves a woman with no choice but to seek out security first, love being secondary to everything else.” 

You hummed, nodding slowly as you processed his words. 

“Sorry, I interrupted. You were saying?” 

Jaehyun wasn’t sure why that made him smile, choosing to dismiss it and continue anyway, “anyway, his view is that when we’re constantly trying and trying to follow these instruction manuals on ‘How to earn love’... at the end of the day they can hold it over our heads and decide that there are more instructions, more requirements we haven’t met yet… he thinks it isn’t possible.” 

You frowned, “What? To find love?” 

Jaehyun nodded, “Genuine love, I suppose. I guess I understand what he means. Even though more people have been talking about a love match these days, it feels out of reach somehow. People still end up looking at you like a list of instructions, a list of qualifications, weighing who has a list that is easier to meet and going with that.” 

“Do you think yours is difficult to meet?” you found yourself asking, earning a blank look from the viscount. 

“That’s the thing,” he huffed, “People like us… who try and try and are tired of trying… we wish we didn’t have one.” 

Somehow, you felt a certain conviction in your heart, shaking your head at him. 

“Maybe we don’t, and we just haven’t realised that yet.” 

=== 

You hadn’t seen Jaehyun at the next ball, or the next, and he didn’t return to your house for meetings with your father. You figured he was busy, so you tried not to wait. Though the ache persisted, coming and going like waves. With how often you felt it, you assumed you would have grown familiar with it. But in cases like these, the familiarity was unsettling, as if your body was crying out for help that you weren’t able to provide.  

Yuta kept you relatively occupied, sending you flowers regularly, light and bright coloured blooms attached to meanings of affection and purity and fondness, accompanied with letters containing equally flowery words. Though it didn’t keep you occupied enough. 

Time seemed to pass without much of your awareness, the only thing you were aware of being the way the flowers Yuta sent would slowly wither and your sister would replace them with the new bouquets he sent over. You were growing frustrated at Yuta’s perfection, because that demanded perfection from you as well. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the liberation that came with your conversations with the viscount. Those were different, demanding honesty instead of perfection, and perhaps, perfection was found in that honesty.  

“I think we can start thinking about discussing marriage with Mr Nakamoto,” your mother turned to murmur as you were having tea with Yuta in the drawing room, the man busy talking to your father about whatever literary piece they found they both enjoyed. 

“Marriage?” you weren’t sure why the prospect seemed so daunting now that your mother had mentioned it, something about her words making you realise that her plans were solidifying and you couldn’t simply continue to play ‘tea party’ with Yuta much longer. 

Your attention was diverted when your sister had entered with a stack of letters in her hand (presumably taken from the staff), her excited gaze meeting yours as she waved a single letter in your direction. 

“Are those my letters?” your mother asked, earning a grunt from your sister. 

“They’re father’s letters,” she informed tersely, making her way over to you and dropping a single letter into your lap, shoving the rest towards your mother in an attempt to distract her. 

The dismayed expression on your mother showed it was somewhat successful, “You know, you really have to fix your manners when it’s your turn to debut,” she began, seeming ready to launch into a tirade of nit-picking towards your sister but you knew nothing could very well escape her watchful eyes when it came to you, eyeing the letter in your hands curiously. 

“What’s that?” 

“Sister’s letter.” 

Your mother’s hand reached out quickly, grasping the letter in your hand and peering over your shoulder to look at it, seeing no indication of a sender other than an elaborate letter ‘J’ imprinted on the seal. 

“J? Do we know anyone with that initial?” 

Your thoughts ran first to Jaehyun, and the look you exchanged with your sister only proved your suspicions correct, though she was quick to cover for you. 

“Johnson, remember? Betty Johnson? Sister’s old friend that moved overseas,” it almost surprised you how smoothly she lied through her teeth when she was never a good liar. You never had a friend with the surname Johnson. 

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have remembered her. I used to play with her and sister outside the church grounds when we were younger,” you added, pleased with how your mother had bought your lie, shrugging as she turned her attention back to her cup of tea. 

“If you’re going to start exchanging letters, don’t expect the money to come from your father and I. We’re already putting more than we can into your dowry,” she muttered, earning a sigh from you as Yuta and your father returned from his study. 

“Shall we promenade?” he offered, and you glanced at your sister before looking back at him, rolled your shoulders back and gave him your sweetest smile. 

Your sister leaned over, pretending to fix your hair so she could lean in to murmur softly, “I’ll put the letter in your notebook.” 

And so you left to promenade with Yuta. 

“Lovely weather, isn’t it?” he smiled, squinting his eyes as he looked up at the sky, with you holding your parasol above your head, simply giving him a small hum. 

“Have any other suitors declared their pursuit of you?” Yuta spoke abruptly, earning a frown from you. 

Shaking your head, you couldn’t find it in yourself to speak, something about your anxiousness swallowing your words. You could almost hear your mother’s voice in your head now, telling you once again to ‘ use your words ’. 

“No, they haven’t,” you managed to force out, earning a solemn nod from Yuta. 

“Really? Not even viscount Jung?” 

Your frown deepened, “What makes you say that?” 

“Nothing in particular… just figured he was the only other person that could have caught your attention this season.” 

You huffed, even Yuta thought of Jaehyun highly. You, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to get the image of the little boy playing the violin out of your mind when you thought of him, something about it was endearing. 

“I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but… do you know the viscount personally by any chance?” 

Somehow your words seemed to have struck a chord with Yuta, his expression turning stoic and his gaze shifting elsewhere. He shook his head, “No, I don’t.” 

“Are you sure? He seemed to find you familiar at the ball—” 

“He must be mistaking me for someone else,” Yuta turned to you with a smile, though the firmness of his tone contrasted the gentleness of his smile. It was enough to deter you from asking any further. With Yuta, you needed to be careful, knowing something as simple as behaving in an ill-mannered way would be enough to make your family’s plans for security and stability fall through. It wasn’t as simple as it seemed with Jaehyun, who was always game for whatever you threw his way.

The mood had turned sour afterwards, the both of you remaining in relative silence (well, other than Yuta’s occasional utterances of praise for your parents) until you were both back at your house, the servant who chaperoned behind the both of you helping to take the parasol from your hands as Yuta got ready to bid you goodbye. 

After he left, it was like your body moved faster than you could process. It was embarrassing , the way you felt like an excited child running up to your room and grabbing the book sitting on your desk, flipping it open and letting Jaehyun’s letter drop out onto your bed. 

Tearing the little envelope open with your finger, you unfolded the letter, catching a whiff of something so unmistakably like Jaehyun that it almost felt like he was in the same room. 

‘Ms Y/N Y/L/N, 

My apologies for disappearing without a word. I needed to leave urgently because of my friend, the one we talked about the other day. His father passed and I’m aiding him with the handover of his father’s business and some of the family property to him, since I was previously closely working with his father for their family’s winery. Perhaps I should be more apologetic for the fact that now social events are sure to be dreadful for you without my presence.’ 

You scoffed, you could almost picture the smirk on his face as he wrote that. 

‘I am unsure when I am to return, but I am sure it will be before the season ends. I suppose now that my friend’s father has passed, he is to be looking for a wife as well, though I doubt it would be easy to convince him to come back with me. With his status now as a Marquess, I suppose many would be eager to coerce him into marrying their daughters if he were to arrive in town. Something he seems very opposed to. 

Again, I hope I have not needlessly worried you with my sudden absence. Though, I suppose my absence would be something that gains rejoicing from you rather than disappointment. Nonetheless, things are rather hectic here. I hoped that in writing to you I could gain some form of entertainment hearing about the progress in the marriage mart that I am unfortunately missing out on. You can write to me, but it will be addressed to my friend’s estate as I am staying here until I leave. I look forward to hearing from you. Do keep safe and in good health. 

-J’ 

“I’d keep that locked up, if I were you,” you jumped at the sound of your sister’s voice behind you, a mischievous smile on her face as she shut the door behind her, crawling onto your bed and making herself comfortable there. 

“So is it official? That he’s courting you seriously?” she asked, and you could see the way her smile fell as you pursed your lips, shaking your head at her. 

Now that you heard her words for yourself, it made you wonder. You expected Jaehyun to be someone meticulous, someone careful, someone who knew exactly what the implications of sending a lady a letter was in this day and age. It made you wonder about the intimacy hidden behind his otherwise mundane updates, and for some reason, it made you long for more. 

“I’m going to write back,” you spoke, more for yourself than for her. 

Her smile grew, “This is a dangerous game you’re playing, sister. I suppose you found he’s worth defending after all?” 

You hummed absently, already pulling out your writing materials to begin writing your response to him. 

“Not quite yet, but something tells me this will be worth it.” 

‘Dear J, 

My condolences for your friend’s father, I can only imagine how overwhelming it is to have all sorts of responsibility thrown at you before you can even process your own grief. Truthfully, I hadn’t noticed your absence’ (you were lying, obviously)

‘Perhaps because things have been hectic here as well. Each day seems to be filled with entertaining Mr Nakamoto and going for promenades. I’m quite tired of all the walking, to be very honest. 

The mention of your friend made me think of what you said that day at the soirée, about finding genuine love in a world where marriage is an economic proposition. I find myself searching sometimes, even though I know my efforts are probably in vain. I know the reason I have been entertaining Mr Nakamoto is not because I’m attracted to him. It is like what you said, I find myself seeing him more as his list of instructions, and what that demands of mine. Then, I find myself drawn back to my duty as the first daughter of my family, drawn back to the need to secure some sort of relief or security for my family. By then, there is no thought of finding love in a marriage partner, only the transaction of it all. Still, there is a part of me that wonders how different the whole process would be if I truly loved my partner, how much less it would feel like a game and more like life. 

I am only asking because I have not seen you dance with anyone at the events so far. I suppose you are either picky or disinterested. But just out of curiosity, do you think it’s possible? For you, I mean, to find genuine love this season? 

I hope this proves as entertaining as you wished for it to be, I won’t apologise even if it ends up disappointing you. 

From, me’ 

=== 

‘Ms Y/N Y/L/N,

Thank you for your concern. My friend is doing much better now, and I hope this means the chances of him returning with me have increased. I would like for you to meet him, something tells me he would get along well with your sister, they both seem to have a penchant for the arts. 

To answer your question, I believe it is possible. Whether it is wise of me to think so, or whether it is wishful thinking… that remains undecided. But I cannot be sure. Personally, I have not come across such love where you are seen for all that you are and still loved, but I would like to believe it exists. Whether I am able to find it this season or not, believing it exists makes it feel more like life, like you said. 

With that being said, I do wish the same for you, as much as you may not believe me. More than just promenades, answers from manuals, accomplishments and duties, but life. Sure, duties are important, family is important. But in my honest opinion, I don’t think fulfilling your duties should mean sacrificing your happiness, especially when it isn’t very well your duty at all, but that of others projected onto you. Perhaps I would get stoned by your mother if I said so, but I mean it.

I have to be going now, but I can guarantee that I will be back soon. Perhaps in less than a month’s time you will find yourself bickering with me at the corner of a rich woman’s house again. Do keep safe and in good health. 

-J’ 

You should’ve trusted the nauseous feeling in your gut when you saw Yuta arrive at your house that morning, having arranged a private meeting with your parents and leaving promptly after. There could have only been one reason behind it, and it worried you. Again, the ache intensified, feeling as though it would only solidify if your suspicions were proved correct. 

It was during teatime when your mother finally addressed the elephant in the room. 

“Your father and I are keen on you proceeding with Mr Nakamoto,” she spoke plainly, your hand halting around the handle of your teacup.

“Huh?” as pathetic as it was, was all you could muster. 

“Weighing your potential suitors, Mr Nakamoto brings the most stability. He has property, he is of a suitable age, he has wealth, he is personable. He seems prudent,” she lifted her gaze from her teacup to glance at you, just the slightest of frowns as she met your wide-eyed expression. 

You knew this, yet you weren’t sure why it shocked you to hear it verbalised so forwardly. 

“I’m sure you have no complaints,” it came more as a warning instead of an assumption, enough to make your throat feel dry and your voice start to retreat, “you can expect him to propose soon, so I expect you to be on your best behaviour. The family’s reputation depends on your response.” 

You thought back to Jaehyun’s words. If you were to reject Yuta’s proposal, would that make you wise or foolish? You knew what was riding on this decision. If you were to reject him, you would retain a little bit of your freedom, but you would damage your reputation. It wasn’t exactly ideal to be regarded as a jilt, much less to a man like Mr Nakamoto, who had many women in your town lining up for him. Weighing your other potential suitors, you weren’t sure if being married to a man older than your father was a better option. 

Almost unconsciously, your thoughts wandered to Jaehyun, the feelings you associated with him— or more accurately, how different these feelings were from the ones you associated with Yuta. 

It was starting to make you anxious, you realised that as you exchanged letters with him for a while now, he had grown on you more than you realised. The way you felt at the receiving end of his attentiveness. The way he seemed to read into your signals and cues and meet you where you were without expecting you to be perfect. The way he made you hopeful that you could find love… and perhaps wishful that you could find it in him. 

You were anxious, because when you thought of Jaehyun, what was coming to mind wasn’t his credentials, his wealth, his family, or his status. But rather, it was him , the blunt yet gentle, aloof yet attentive, hardened yet tender-hearted person that he was. 

You were anxious, because even as you were being told about your perfect prospect of marriage, you found that you only ached for him ; the man who was maybe a stranger to your textbook gentleman, but not a stranger to you. 

You took in a deep breath, setting your teacup down with shaky hands, standing up and letting out the breath you were holding. 

Use your words.

“I’m not feeling too well,” you murmured softly enough that you knew your voice wouldn’t give way, “please, excuse me.” 

You struggled up the stairs, finding it difficult to focus on anything other than the way your heart was pounding and your head was starting to spin. Eventually, you found yourself at your desk, writing materials ready and already finding yourself addressing the only person you could think of at this moment. 

‘Dear J, 

My parents have been talking to me about pursuing a marriage with Mr Nakamoto, and in the position that I am, I am inclined to accept.’ 

=== 

This time, you didn’t receive a reply from Jaehyun. Previous times, you could always be sure that his reply would not take longer than a week. But this time was different, as the flowers Yuta continued to send withered and were replaced, there was no news of any mail for you. Even your sister was starting to grow concerned at the way things were going, starting to display Yuta’s flowers in places you wouldn’t pass as often when you were going about your daily routine. But you noticed, the flowers Yuta gave you were always light, bright colours in delicate blooms; nothing like the bigger blooms your sister tended to get. 

The waiting was the worst this time, and you knew why. It was different this time, knowing you were anticipating his reply for different reasons. You couldn’t hide behind boredom, or curiosity as to how he would respond to your questions and words. This time your anticipation lay in hope, in your ache, and that was the worst kind of anticipation for you. Girls like you couldn’t hope, you had far too many responsibilities. You needed to be pragmatic, realistic, practical. There was no room for hope in your heart, yet you found that it was all you were doing these days. 

Hoping that wherever he was, he was safe. Hoping that wherever he was, there wasn’t a perfect girl who was discovering if his touch could turn her worries into gold. Hoping that wherever he was, he was thinking of you. 

You hoped it wasn’t too late. 

The longer you waited, the more foolish you felt. Pouring your heart out to him in your letters like that when there was no real guarantee that he would feel the same way, when there was no real guarantee that he would take Yuta’s place. 

As conversations about responsibilities, about being a good wife to Yuta had started to intensify, you gave yourself no choice but to bottle up the anxiety you felt, directing it inwards till you felt it start to take a toll on your mind.

There was a knock at your door before the door opened with a soft click, seeing your sister walk in carrying a vase containing new flowers, white lilies that filled your room with a scent that comforted you just slightly in your fatigue.

Setting the vase down carefully, your sister turned, stopping in her tracks when she realised you were awake, the slightest of frowns on her features, “Sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you.” 

You shook your head, a sigh leaving you as you stretched your arms over your head, “I was already awake a long time ago, don’t worry.”  

Padding over to your bed to take a seat next to your legs, her body angled towards you and her hand smoothing over the blanket that covered you, her gaze scanned your appearance. 

“Still nothing?” You asked, earning a small sigh from her. 

“Nothing,” she shook her head. Pausing, she shook her head, “maybe the letters just got lost in the mail?” 

You let out a sigh through your nose, shifting your gaze to the Lilies perched next to your window, the light seeping through the glass making you almost dread the day that was to come. Another day spent waiting. 

“I would like to believe that, but I've sent far too many letters to him to believe that,” you murmured, “perhaps it was foolish of me, you know?” 

Her frown deepened, “What was?” 

“Thinking that I could actually find a love match. Thinking that I could develop an affection for the viscount and remain unscathed,” you huffed, bitterness laced in your words that left an unpleasant aftertaste in your mouth.   

Your sister hummed, “Do you think it is the affection you feel for him that is what is hurting you? Or the absence of this affection for Mr Nakamoto?” 

There it was again, the wave that washed over you and forced you into sobriety, the ache for the rest that went beyond physical things that you were starting to give up trying to satisfy. You supposed when push comes to shove, you would find something to love in Yuta, you would simply have to. 

“It’s been more than a month, sister. I cannot… I cannot afford to wait for him much longer. I cannot afford to keep avoiding Mr Nakamoto.” 

She sighed, “I know. Father has been meeting him to discuss your marriage arrangement for a while now.” 

Somehow, that was enough to solidify your decision for you, as reluctant as you were. Saying yes to Yuta’s proposal… perhaps it would be a wise decision in your trying and trying to earn the affections of your father. It would be wise for you to do what is pleasing to your family. It would be wise for you to be obedient, to continue to be dependable for them. 

You heard the click of the lock, the door opening to reveal your mother, “Mr Nakamoto is here, dear. He has requested a private audience with you.” 

Exchanging a knowing look with your sister, you nodded. 

“Give me a moment to make myself presentable. I shall be down shortly,” you murmured, seeing your sister still wearing that same look of concern as you got out of bed, your mother leaving and shutting the door. 

Getting ready, you stared yourself down in the mirror, glancing between yourself and the sight of your sister behind you on your bed, a now unreadable expression on her face. 

“I’m not going to refuse when he asks,” you murmured, more for yourself than for her. 

Perhaps she knew this, because the nod she gave you was all you needed to give you the little bit of conviction that you would go through with this, for your family’s sake. 

=== 

Perfection was subjective, you knew this now. You knew it for a fact as you lay in bed, your head spinning and your heart feeling heavy, a week since Yuta had left town for business after your engagement. 

The stress of it all was getting to you, the ache in your heart for rest, the ache to not have to be ‘on’ and be present to all the people and things that demanded your attention, the pressure you were putting on yourself to be the person your parents expected you to be, or maybe who you expected yourself to be, the ache to be able to depend on someone other than yourself. 

You couldn’t even shake the fact that you were still wondering about Jaehyun, the last bit of desperation in you used to hope that he would return soon. It was amusing, considering that his return would probably be worse because you were already betrothed to another man. Somehow, you were still eager to write to him, asking your sister to help to pen down your messages because you were too weak to get out of bed. At least when you did this, you could say you still tried at the end of the day, because trying was what you were familiar with. 

You could barely get yourself out of bed, wanting nothing more than to sleep away your days as you waited for Yuta to return, for him to seal your fate with your marriage. Each day, your sister would come in and attempt to get you to eat, but you couldn’t find it in you to have an appetite, simply eating a few bites to appease her before you were allowed to sleep the time away before your next meal. 

Little did you know that your waiting for Yuta was in vain. 

Jaehyun almost thought he was hallucinating when he heard the sound of a familiar laughter echoing a few tables away from him at the bar he was at with Johnny.  “Do you recognise him?” Johnny asked, evident disdain in his tone and the pointedness of his glare, earning a confused look from Jaehyun. 

“Who?” 

“That man over there, the conman, Nakamoto Yuta? was his name if i recall correctly,” Johnny gestured with his head to the source of the laughter, Jaehyun’s eyes narrowing when he realised that the man sitting at that table was very much familiar, and very much Yuta. 

“Conman?” Jaehyun murmured, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he observed the woman next to him, the Rubies she adorned on her neck identical to the ones he saw you wearing at the soirée. 

Johnny nodded, using his finger to trace the mouth of his glass, “I recognise him from my time in Paris. You see the woman next to him? Remember how I told you Rubies were popular among the women there?” Johnny gestured to his neck, “It took me a while, but I realised it was only because that was his trademark. Like a branding for the women he was set on cheating for their money in exchange for his affection.” 

Jaehyun frowned. Did that make you one of Yuta’s targets, then?

“Are you familiar with his methods?” 

“Too familiar, I wish I wasn’t,” Johnny sighed, “He tried the same thing on my cousin. You know, all these young girls looking for the perfect husband. He paints himself out to be little less than a saint, and they eat it up. The prince charming that came to sweep them off their feet when in actual fact his occupation is never revealed, his life is a series of carefully constructed lies that differ depending on who he’s talking to… he strung my cousin along for ages, doing ‘business dealings’ with my uncle that landed him in debt that my father had to pay off.” 

“And your cousin?” 

Johnny knocked back the rest of the alcohol in his glass, “Heartbroken, obviously. Once he had his fill of her and her family’s money he left without a single warning.” 

“Couldn’t you file a suit against him for that?” Jaehyun’s mind was racing with questions, with a growing worry for you, especially since the last letter he’d received from you was talking about your likely marriage to Yuta.

“And what about the women? Wouldn’t they have warned each other by now? Isn’t it obvious when everyone’s receiving the same thing—the Rubies and flowers and all—from him?” Jaehyun continued, earning a deep sigh from Johnny. 

“That’s the thing. She was too in love with him by then, she insisted that we couldn’t go after him. Plus, by the time he was done with them, they didn’t have enough money to file a suit even if they wanted to.”

“I mean, who wouldn’t want to be the centre of attention of a doting, romantic, young , attractive young man?” Johnny let out a bitter laugh, “You of all people should know it’s all business. When someone like Yuta comes along, he brings the fantasy of a desirable love match with him. It was never about what they were receiving, but who they were receiving it from. The perfect prince charming he made himself out to be.” 

Johnny glanced over at Yuta with a sigh before raising his hand to catch the server’s attention to order another drink. 

At Jaehyun’s lack of a response, Johnny noticed his friend’s face paling, his gaze fixed on the table looking deep in thought, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” 

“The girl,” Jaehyun rasped, clearing his throat and blinking his eyes harshly, “the one I sent the letter to…” 

“Yeah? Didn’t you say she was getting engaged?” Johnny hummed, earning a grim nod from Jaehyun. 

“It was supposed to be to him .” 

Johnny’s lips parted, exchanging a knowing look with Jaehyun. He wasn’t daft, he knew Jaehyun’s affections for this girl ran deep, deeper than he let on. 

“I… I need to go back,” he said finally, “I hope you can understand.” 

At this, Johnny let out a laugh, an incredulous look on his face. 

“Finally! I was wondering when you’d come to your senses.”

“Huh?” Jaehyun’s stare was blank, confusion written all over his face. 

“ I’m not the one keeping you here… I think we both know that,” Johnny spoke slowly, nodding at Jaehyun, the latter who was already trying to form a mental estimate of how long it would take him to get to you. 

“God, I feel so…”

“Foolish?” Johnny offered with a smile, earning a glare from Jaehyun. 

“I can’t believe I was going to sit here and do nothing while she gets cheated by that man,” Jaehyun brought a hand up to wipe his face harshly. 

Taking a sip of his drink, Johnny huffed, “Want me to hit him for you?” 

Jaehyun scoffed, “Not if I get to him first.”

“I’ll tell them to prepare your carriage for tomorrow morning, you’ll be back in three days at most,” Johnny spoke calmly, amusement still lingering in his smile as he observed Jaehyun’s lost expression, the viscount seeming too blinded by the rage he felt towards Yuta to think clearly. 

Johnny grunted, waving his hands in dismissal, “Don’t waste your time with him, go to your girl first.”  

Jaehyun wasn’t sure what he was picturing when he imagined returning to you. He got your letters, every single one of them. He read every word to the point where he was sure he knew them by heart. Your letters told him about the town, about who had gotten engaged, gossip from the flower market, about the weather, the balls you attended. From the letters alone, he would have figured you were doing perfectly fine. 

What he hadn’t expected was to have your sister answer the door and look at him as though he’d grown a second head. 

“My parents aren’t here,” you informed before he could greet you, earning a huff from him. 

“Sorry for uh… for paying such an unexpected visit, but… I was wondering if I could see your sister?” 

Your sister thought to you, lying in bed grieving the loss of a future she dreamed of, wondering if the viscount’s presence here would put an end to that grief. 

“She’s… sick.” 

Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrowed, “Sick? With what?” 

“Heartbreak, I suppose,” your sister replied tersely, giving him a pointed stare, unsure what to make of Jaehyun’s intentions. 

Jaehyun’s eyebrows lifted, his thoughts immediately going to Yuta and feeling himself start to bubble with the same rage and concern that brought him here. Most of all, love. 

“You can stay here, I’ll check if she’s willing to see you,” she spoke, still eyeing him cautiously as she led Jaehyun into the house, stopping him at the stairwell as she made her way to your room. 

“Sister,” she knocked on the door, opening it and peeping her head in, whispering harshly with wild eyes, “The viscount is here!” 

Your head snapped up from your pillow abruptly, only to fall back onto your pillow in immediate regret as it throbbed and pounded. Your headache was torturing you, but for Jaehyun, you supposed you were willing to brave through it. 

“Okay. He can come up, but you have to stay in the room with us,” you said as firmly as you could. 

Your sister hummed, turning to leave the room. 

“Not unless he requests a private audience…” she murmured lowly, earning a glare from you (futile as it was, since she’d already left the room). 

Jaehyun was more than impatient to see you, but the sight of you tucked under the covers of your bed, a cloth and small basin next to your bedside and the cold sweat on your face made his heart ache. 

He wasn’t sure how to place himself as he entered the room, choosing to stand in front of the side of your bed you were facing, his lips curling ever so slightly in amusement when you had turned your body to face away from him. 

“What happened to you?” his voice came out almost breathless, with traces of exasperation. 

You didn’t want to open your eyes and look at him, you didn’t think your resolve would last if you could see the look of concern and frustration on his face he held now. 

“Nothing,” you murmured. So much for ‘using your words’. 

“Stress,” your sister cut in, earning a sigh from Jaehyun. 

“I came because… I wanted to warn you,” Jaehyun almost winced, his words not coming out how he’d planned. 

“ To warn me? ” your tone was strong even in your weakness, “not because you promised you would come back?” 

Jaehyun shook his head, “I… look, you can’t go ahead with the engagement with Mr Nakamoto.” 

You frowned. 

“And what makes you think you can tell me what to do about my future?” 

Jaehyun was growing frustrated now, “I’m not, but even if I was, I wouldn’t be the first one telling you what to do with your future,” he said pointedly. 

“Why are you meddling? I never asked you to get involved,” you felt like a stubborn child, but you were more upset at the fact that it was him of all people, advising you not to marry Yuta. 

You supposed that was what you wanted when you’d sent him that letter, but a very belated form of it, showing up in front of you now. 

“My apologies, I did not ask for your permission,” he scoffed, “that isn’t the issue here, Ms Y/L/N, you cannot proceed with this engagement.” 

“Perhaps your warning would be of more use if you’d sent it sooner in a letter,” you huffed. 

You knew this was the sulky side of you speaking now, but it was the truth. Did he think he could simply waltz into your bedroom after months of silence, tell you not to marry the man you were engaged to and expect you to comply graciously? 

“I don’t need your help with my marriage.” 

“Marriage?” 

Your sister wanted to avert her gaze, the tension in the room growing thicker by the minute, but it was impossible to look away, with the viscount looking unlike she could ever imagine seeing him. Desperate, frustrated, emotional . Nothing like anyone knew him to be. 

“We’re already engaged,” you murmured, as if reluctant to solidify the truth by speaking it into existence. 

“Besides, like I said. If I needed your… interference—”

“Help,” he corrected, earning an eye roll from you (not that he could see it, your eyes still being closed). 

“Fine, help. If I needed it, I would have asked.” 

“Is help only given when it is needed?” 

You huffed, the bubbling of frustration within your chest growing stronger as you called to mind your emotions for the past few months. 

“It definitely seems to be otherwise when it’s coming from you. Needed or not, I’d rather not have your help at all,” you forced your eyes open, immediately regretting it when you turned your head to meet his gaze. 

Desperate, frustrated, emotional. 

“You don’t mean that, I’m trying to warn you. You don’t know what kind of man he truly is.” 

"Consider me warned,” your gaze was as firm as you could muster, not finding any reason to withdraw when it came to Jaehyun. This was yourself, in all that you were feeling. 

“Don't patronise me. You don’t know what he’s capable of.” You almost faltered, almost . A small nagging fear started to creep up on you, telling you that you’ve made a grave mistake with Yuta. 

“And you do?” you asked, slowly shifting yourself so you could see him better, unsure if you were being spiteful or curious now, maybe both. 

“Better than you, it seems,” he huffed, taking a step closer to your bed, your sister pressing herself against the wall as if that would help the tension in the room, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she watched the dynamic between you and Jaehyun unfold. 

It was nothing compared to how she saw you and Yuta interact, but something about this was interesting. It was like the both of you were simply hiding behind your true feelings, masking it with frustration and beating around the bush, focusing on unimportant details because you were both too afraid to be the first one to reveal your heart. 

“And where is this understanding coming from?"

Jaehyun visibly hesitated, sighing before he told you the truth, "Johnny and I saw him when we were travelling." 

“Johnny?” you frowned, “Oh, you mean the marquess that dares not show his face in this town?” 

Again, the focus on unnecessary details to prolong the time before you had to finally face up to what you really wanted to hear and say. 

“His title is not who he is,” was all Jaehyun could muster, feeling the tension in the room as he continued to hold your gaze. 

“And by that same logic, I can say you don’t know my partner any better than I do,” you shrugged, the words sounding unfamiliar even as you said it. 

That seemed to strike a nerve with Jaehyun, his tone rising slightly in his urgency and frustration. 

“Would you stop calling him that? He’s not going to come back! You know why—?” 

“What would you rather me call him then? My husband-to-be ?” 

“—he’s too busy conning and cheating people like your parents in other towns for money now. Your family is going to be left in debt because of that man.” Though Jaehyun wasn’t shouting, his tone was filled with such urgency, such firmness, that he might as well have been. The implication of his words echoed louder than anything, louder than the sound of your heart picking up speed. 

Your silence spoke for you, feeling as though a large wave had just washed over you and pulled you under. Your heart continued to thump quickly as you struggled to regain your bearings, as you struggled to gain control over yourself. Only one thought rang in your head, your mother had already given Yuta your dowry before he disappeared. 

You glanced at your sister, her debut would need to be delayed now. Your family couldn’t afford to muster up another dowry so soon, not when you hadn’t gotten married yet. 

“Now do you understand why I needed to come and warn you?” his tone softened, and without realising he began to make his way closer to you, daring himself to look closely at you in your shock, processing what he was feeling at the sight of it. Which, at the moment, could only be described as wanting to pull you out from under the waves, to dive in and look for you so he could bring you to the surface. 

“I cannot—” he stopped himself, shaking his head, “I will not watch you let yourself be humiliated, waiting for that… that liar ." 

Something in your gaze was hurt, vulnerable as you looked at him, wondering how he could say such words with such confidence when he was the one you were waiting for this whole time. 

“I am not a stranger to waiting, you of all people should know that very well,” you said. 

Jaehyun’s expression softened, still brushing aside what he wanted to say to you, his thoughts focused on how you must be feeling to find out you’ve just been conned by your fiancé. 

“Why do you think I came here?” he asked, and the reminder that his purpose here was to warn you and not for other reasons was a bitter pill to swallow, so this bitterness showed in your response. 

“In hopes to annoy me to death, perhaps.” 

At his lack of a response, you frowned, “…. Why aren’t you saying anything? I expected a witty remark by now.”

What you didn’t expect was for Jaehyun to sigh, something in his expression akin to tenderness, which didn’t make sense to you at the moment. But it was a very tenderness that you always wondered about, what he reserved it for, how it would show, how it would feel. It seems all of those questions were answered now as you looked at him. 

“Where do you think that man is? Right now, while you’re in this condition. Where do you think this man that you’re set on marrying will be after hearing of your sickness?” His tongue peeked out to wet his lips, though even if your attention was momentarily diverted, nothing could tear it away from his gaze. As though he had a million things to say to you, hidden inside of him, and you were only catching glimpses of it through his eyes. Yet they still managed to be gleaming, twinkling, pulling you out from under the waves. 

“Yet here you are… destroying yourself for somebody who is incapable of loving you in the way you deserve,” he spoke almost bitterly, and the (not so) little hope within you had begun to surface again. Courage to make your feelings known, and hope that they would be received. 

Jaehyun let his gaze shift to the way your hand lay on top of your covers, holding the fabric close to yourself for some sense of comfort. It surprised him, the way he wished he could hold you, to embrace you in his own comfort. The thought came naturally to him, as if that was his body’s natural response, to want you to be able to receive that from him and for him to give his love and affection freely to you. 

“I’m sorry, I know it must be a lot to process. He had me believing his act too, I… should’ve asked Johnny sooner, if I did then you would not have to face such grief now—” 

“It’s not about him,” you spoke, hoping your voice wasn’t quivering with how you were on the brink of tears, frustrated that you couldn’t tell what he felt for you even now, but filled with hope that you were sure you couldn’t hold your feelings within you much longer, “it was never about waiting for him, or… grieving for the loss of him .” 

Jaehyun fell silent, lips parted slightly in shock as he held your gaze, your pleading eyes meeting his. 

“Do you really think all these months have been for that man?” 

“I wrote to you endlessly ,” your frown deepened, the ache in your heart worsening when you saw the way Jaehyun’s gaze softened, moving closer to you but stopping himself with evident restraint before he could get too close, “even when I could barely move myself out of my room the only thought on my mind was that I needed my words to reach you somehow, I needed some part of me to reach you… somehow.” 

Your vision blurred, making you blink harshly. The fact that you couldn’t see him clearly behind your tears disconcerted you, “What else was I supposed to think when I didn’t hear back? What other choice did I have?”

Jaehyun paused, remembering your sister’s presence in the room, deciding that now would be the time where he stops dancing around the reason why he truly came back to see you. 

“May I…” he turned to face your sister, “have the honour of a private audience with your sister?” 

Her eyes widened, fighting the smile that threatened to show on her face as she gave you a knowing look, averting her gaze as her hand came up to cover her mouth, nodding. Gesturing a hand to you, she already began leaving the room, “Of course, of course. By all means.” 

“As much as you may think I hate you, or…  am here to meddle in your life or annoy you… I don’t like seeing you like this. I do not wish to see you in pain,” he let out a sigh through his nose, taking another step closer to your bed, daring himself to take a seat next to your legs, his body moving naturally as though this was what it meant to simply allow himself to be. Like muscle memory. 

You huffed, “I’ve always been good at masking it, I suppose.” 

He shook his head, displeased, “Or nobody has bothered asking if you needed to be relieved.” 

“I’m sorry I did not write back to you. I just… in retrospect now I realise it was foolish of me but…  from all your letters I just assumed,” he brought a hand up to run through his hair in frustration, “I assumed you were perfectly fine with Yuta. I had no right coming back and disrupting that, as much as I wanted to.” 

“Believe me, I wanted to,” he huffed, “and it surprised me because, well, it was strange. It felt like you were seeing me for who I was… as if I was known for more than my wealth, my appearance, for everything in myself that was not perfect. But with you, it wasn't a matter of having to try to earn love, but to re-learn what love is, what it feels like.” 

Your throat felt dry, something about his honesty making the ache in your heart grow, feeling as though what you sought to satisfy this ache was within reach, yet still at a loss for what it was that you desired.

"I did not know how to convey that in my letters. No words were enough, nothing... nothing was quite satisfying enough in expressing what I wanted to say to you. The thought of hiding what I felt beneath enquiries about the weather or about Mr Nakamoto made me sick to my stomach. That kind of intimacy that I felt when I was with you... It scared me because it only made me wish for more. I didn't think it was what you wanted."

“I thought that I could just separate myself from the situation, to resolve it that way before it could hurt me, but it was only when I saw that man when I was with Johnny that I realised,” his gaze flickered between your eyes and his hands, returning to your eyes and meeting you with that same hope. 

Hope that gleamed, twinkled, that was not rooted in fear but in love. 

“You deserved more than him, the love that you allowed me to discover was very much possible… the love you deserve. It would hurt me more if I had to watch you forgo that for the sake of others.” 

Use your words. 

“What do you suppose is this love that I deserve?” you dared to ask, somehow the use of your words did not feel as manipulative as it always did, it did not feel like you were trying to hide behind them this time, but to let your heart be known through them. 

Jaehyun remained firm, and this conviction was enough to make you feel like you were slowly being lifted up to the surface of the water, the light seeping through the water making your surroundings feel brighter. 

“... a love that remains forever.” 

You weren’t sure if you were breathing, feeling the water get lighter as you followed the light from his eyes. 

“And you suppose that is within reach for me?” your voice was barely above a murmur. 

Jaehyun nodded, the hint of desperation lingering in his tone, “I promise you, it is within reach.” 

“You cannot promise me a forever and not give it to me.” 

There was a hint of amusement in Jaehyun’s gaze, the slightest of smiles on his face at your response. He wished you would remain this way, unafraid to use your voice with him, unafraid to assert yourself, to allow him to see, know and love you for who you are. 

“I would not have mentioned it if I were not ready to give it to you at this very moment.” 

Your lips parted slightly, “How do you suppose you will do that?” 

Jaehyun wore the tell-tale expression that let you know he thought of something that either pleased or amused him, as if waiting for the right timing to say his smart line with a smug tone. 

“By… asking you to marry me.” 

If you thought his eyes gleamed and twinkled before, the smile that he wore when he saw the sheer relief grace your features. The feeling of being pulled above the surface of the water. 

“It’s not too much to ask, just… be with me. Depend on someone other than yourself for a change.” 

“My Lord, you know—” you began, turning your head abruptly and immediately regretting your sudden movements, your head beginning to throb even more. Jaehyun shocked you with the way he adjusted your pillow, helping you to lower your head back down onto the pillow carefully, smoothing your hair away from where it stuck to your face from your cold sweat. 

“I want you to,” he nodded. 

It was strange, being told that someone wanted you to depend on them when you were always used to being the one who was depended on. Instead of promising you gold, he was promising you the warmth of it, the value of it. Not the ‘Midas touch’ that took life away from things, but one that brought light and hope. 

You wanted this . Not your long, tedious game, but the life he was offering you, a life of love, love even in imperfection, love that brought with it rest, love that was a state and not something to earn. 

You nodded, “I want to…” your body felt warm under his touch, your gaze following his movements as he picked up the cloth draped over the small basin next to your bedside, wringing the cloth after wetting it and using it to dab the sweat from your face and neck. 

You felt as though you weren’t breathing, a wave of emotion rushing through you at the feeling of being under his care. It was as though he was removing the little bandage you used to cover the ache that you felt, replacing it with a bandage that fit, one that wrapped around the ache instead of just trying to suppress it. 

“I want to marry you,” was all you could muster, Jaehyun letting out a huff of amusement as he set the cloth aside, his left hand moving to your face, letting the pads of his fingertips trace the side of your face before letting his thumb smooth over your cheek gently. It was unmistakable, the feel of the calluses on his fingertips from what you assumed was his recent playing of the violin. 

“Does my presence have that much of an effect on you?” he drawled, smugness laced in his tone as he brought you back to your exchange in your father’s study. His gaze flickering to your lips just briefly, making your heart skip in a way you’d never experienced before.  

You rolled your eyes with affection, this time not feeling the need to ‘use your words’ to hide once again. 

“Perhaps it does.” 

=== 

‘My forever only, Time and time again, I am reminded that I was foolish to think I could live the rest of my life without you when a day that passes by when I am not with you is filled with a longing I cannot imagine I could ever grow comfortable with, much less befriend. 

Back then, I was used to being all alone. I found this solitude to be a companion, though loneliness is never a good lover. The sky gets ethereal for the things no longer living in chains. You allowed me to come to know what that truly meant, what it truly felt like. Love given freely is all I have to offer you, so I hope you’ll have me. 

My love, I have not stopped thinking of the way you look at me, and each time I awake I find myself waiting for when I may be under your gaze again. The thought lingers before I am with you, filling me with an inexplicable feeling of love that refuses to leave even when we part. Forever sounds daunting but when I envision a forever of this love that you meet me with in your eyes, your smile, your presence, it becomes a boundless sea I wish to swim in for as long as my spirit exists. 

All I ask of you, all I want is having you in my day. To keep you in safety, health, and love.

- J, your forever only.’ 

“Do you remember what was discussed?” 

You were drawn from your thoughts, your sister handing you the bouquet of dark red roses as you started walking. 

What did you discuss? 

Right. 

Be yourself. You felt the crunch of cobblestone beneath your feet as you made your way with your sister to the church. You are allowed to launch into unrelated discourses out of panic. You fixed your gloves so they fit comfortably around your hands and arms. Have good manners, unless provoked. You could hear your sister humming to the piano piece she’d been practising that morning. You are safe to express yourself. With the sound of her humming, the rustling of the big trees overhead and the wind caressing your face gently comforted you. 

Reaching the doors of the chapel, you spotted your father who awaited you, though you couldn’t focus on anything else once the doors opened, your gaze immediately finding the man who stood at the altar, a smile adorning his face once he met your gaze. A wave of clarity washed over you; you felt peaceful. 

There he was, not a marriage partner, not an economic proposer . 

Jaehyun, your love match. 

#jung jaehyun #jaehyun #nct jaehyun #nct #nct 127 #nct u #nct aus #nct au #nct scenarios #jaehyun au #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x reader #enemies-to-lovers au #regency au #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun x you #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x y/n #jung yoonoh #nct fluff #nct angst #tswift songs for the neos

[miyaur]

＋ random thoughts i have that i wanna say before i explode and go on a break again LOL, warning. nsfw, a lot of it, i dont have the effort to put specific ones, oh btw sex

⟣ the mfs who look like sex gods but definitely dont have experience, one look at them and they look so beautiful, but probably have 0 relationship experience, example? diluc, xiao, alhaitham, they look like they good at sex, wrong, super wrong. all three have terrible social skill too LMAO, probably medium dicks honestly, not average, but above average. maybe 5-6 inches, mfs probably switch leaning to sub, lowkey terrible at dominating, like be honest w me they probably have 0 sexual intereaction other than masturbationnnnn..... ⟣ maybe most of the genshin guys are virgins honestly, like some look like they fuck on the daily, when they in reality don't, im implying kaeya and childe, high sex drive but 0 sex lol. but probably both like being degraded. get rly turned on probably by getting pegged, they think it's hot whn ur in control. like grip his waist hard while pegging him, the thought gets him creaming in his pants ong, specifically likes the pet name slut tho

⟣ probably likes their hair being pulled while being pounded from behind, like all fours and pulling his hair, prolly likes choking too. — venti, kaeya, kaveh, aether ⟣ if you ask venti to wear the twink archon outfit he has during sex he probably will do it, kazuha probably takes off the bondage thingy around his hands to finger you, respectively, those things probably dirty asf too LMAOO, scaramouche probably lowkey likes being humiliated, super brat too, like really really bratty. probably likes being risky and intimate fr, aether likes praise, a lot, like a lot a lot, like tell him his body is so perfect, and he's being the best boy for you rn, literally would cum untouched ⟣ punishing dottore like the brat he is, tie him to a chair, gag him, and fuck his clone, overstimulate it and everything, just do it infront of the poor baby till he realizes he was wrong for being bratty

⟣ tattoo artist!scara fingering you while you face the wall. as he whispers dirty talk in your ear, at his work place. being risky turns him on so much too, probably after that he'd start spreading your legs, designs painted across his skin, giving kitten licks across your sensitive clit, nothing sent more shivers down your spine. edging you and eating you out would be his favorite, the piercing on his tongue made it feel way better too.

⟣ mafia! fatui members and you're the cute secretary they take their frustration out on, respectfully, but threesomes aren't uncommon, dottore & pantalone tag team; eiffel tower position, dottore probably doesn't really care after sex, but pantalone does help you clean and stuff lol, dottore; 5.768 flaccid, 8.192 hard, pretty girthy, pantalone; 5.437 flaccid, 7.863 hard, not as girthy, but it does pack a punch. scaramouche & childe tag team; probably that one position where one is touching ur nips n stuff, and the other is fucking ur hole, i guess lmao, both pretty caring after sex, probably will fuck again in the shower, because why not lol, childe: 4.537 flaccid, 6.546 hard, not that girthy, length makes up for it, scaramouche: 4.576 flaccid, 7.134 hard. the biggest (and most painful) for last; pierro & capitano tag team; anything that you can handle bro wtf, they'll try to be gentle, rough sex isn't all that rare with them, really into overstimulating you, not really on purpose though, like i promise, both really like it when you sit on their face, pierro; 6.492 flaccid, 9.543 hard, capitano; 6.543 flaccid, 9.345 hard, lowkey they are pretty good at aftercare, they care about you hhahaheheh, they really wanna know if you're okay, lowkey apologize for degrading you during the heat of the moment.

⟣ alhaitham & kaveh tagteam; big fans of the eiffel tower positions, both met you through a cafe, you and alhaitham had the same interest in book themes, kaveh and you both liked the same kind of coffee, you guys probably go on dates together to the same cafe you met in :D, maybe library dates aren't that uncommon either, fucking between the bookshelves isn't either! both probably have no shame in it either, the librarian is probably too tired and goes im not paid enough for this. one praises, one degrades, thats kaveh and alhaitham, but overall they're super good boyfriends, 100% the best aftercare ever, always making sure ur ok n everything bro.

♡ maybe, maybe ill make full fics for each thought here

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin drabbles #genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin smut #genshin sub smut #genshin x female reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #diluc smut #diluc x gender neutral reader #diluc x reader #sub diluc #diluc x y/n #genshin diluc #xiao x y/n #sub xiao #xiao x reader #xiao smut #al haitham x reader #alhaitham smut

[a-boca-do-inferno]

survival (rick grimes x reader)

summary: (y/n) makes a run for it and Rick is not happy.

warnings: none

words: 0.6k

notes: dont mind me just needed some dadvice from rick. sort of a continuation from this but not rly.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you in my corner, (y/n), you know that”, he breathes out, voice cracking like glass falling on the floor by the last words. “Please, just... Don’t do that anymore.”

You can’t face Rick just yet; it’s all too fresh in your mind, still. Again, you’d found yourself in harm’s way and, again, he’d come to your aid without so much as a bat of an eye. This time was much different, however, as his angered orbs scanned you up and down, waiting for an answer. Rick was mad at you, real mad, but he was noticeably holding back his frustration in order to tend to your wounded foot.  

You couldn’t talk, it felt as though the words were stuck in your throat. What the hell could you say, anyway, that wouldn’t sound completely stupid and childish in that situation? You had strayed from the others a few hours after the whole ordeal in the Sanctuary, running off to nowhere. You didn’t know what you were doing, and witnessing the killing spree that happened right in front of your eyes did something to your mind. You didn’t know if it was fear or just the crushing weight of reality finally falling on your shoulders, maybe both. Staying with them was just not an option, either way, so you ran for your life. Until you found yourself trapped by a herd of walkers and sprained your ankle while trying to escape them, that is.

“I’m sorry”, you say, and the strain in your voice makes you flinch in reflex. Rick doesn’t look at you, but you know he is listening. “I don’t what I was doing, I... I got scared, I guess.” Being honest is your only weapon now, you reckoned.

“Of us?”, you take a deep breath, not wanting to have this talk now. Then it comes, the pained, “of me?”, and it’s but a murmur, a soft whisper, yet it bangs in your ears like a bell ringing. So loud.

You weren’t sure of what to say, but you knew in your heart you would never be afraid of Rick. Could never. He was the one who took you in, after all; he’d saved your life more times than you’d bother to count at this point. It just seemed wrong, a lie, and that made you shake your head vehemently. “I’m not scared of you, Rick. You know that.”

“Then what are you afraid of?”, his rough drawl drags through his lips.

Blue eyes don’t ever shy away from yours now, and you have to take another deep breath before answering again. “I’m just... I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can live—not live, this isn’t living”, you quickly correct yourself, feeling slightly upset as your throat closes up. You choke, “I don’t know if I can survive in this world. I don’t think I’m strong enough.”

There is pause at first, and then Rick’s gaze eventually falls to his lap. What could he respond, you wondered, that wouldn’t sound as helpless and as impotent as you just did? You knew Rick, he wasn’t one to beat around the bush, especially when it came to dealing with the apocalypse. And to be honest, you didn’t even know why you were having this conversation with him now in the first place. You were still a little shaken from almost facing death a couple minutes ago, so your mind wasn’t in the right place for this. But as soon as you tried to reach his shoulder, to tell him to just forget it and that you’re really sorry, his hand met yours halfway. 

Rick squeezed your palm tightly for some time, holding you in a piercing look the way only he could. He tilted his head, seeming to think of his words, and a tiny smile appeared on his lips. “Just remember it’s the end of the world, not the end of you.”

Suddenly, you didn’t want to run anymore.  

#the walking dead #rick grimes #andrew lincoln #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead x reader #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x reader #andrew lincoln imagine #andrew lincoln x reader #doodle

[collectivecloseness]

I know you said you weren’t rly up for smut yesterday, but I’m going to be honest, I’m a sinner, and could only think of smut for Joyce. Would you want to do any of that? <3

You’re lucky because I was actually coming up with smth that included smutty Joyce myself LMFAO 🤭 guess we’re all sinners. Domestic fluff with some smut included

Joyce Byers x reader

Joyce invited you over all the time now, and well, you invited yourself over too. Joyce told you she was always happy for you to drop by! And that had been even before you two had been secretly hooking up.

You and Joyce both agreed not to tell anyone. Even you two had skirted around what you actually were. But you were both happy, so that’s all that mattered to you.

It was harder to sneak around with Joyce’s kids in the house, but she also didn’t want to be out constantly, lest they get suspicious, and you kept struggling to find places outside of her home to secretly hook up. Although you both knew of a good few, from experience.

People would probably assume you were Johnathan’s friend if they saw you around the house, or even out with the family, and while recently, you two had started becoming friendly, everyone who knew you and Joyce knew you two were friends! You just seemed to connect very well from the start, and nothing seemed to get in the way of your blooming friendship.

Even your friends didn’t know that it was a much deeper relationship than that. You’d dropped hints about the person you were ‘seeing’ to your friends, because it was obvious to them you were with someone, although at one point Robin and Steve had convinced themselves it was Steve’s mother you were seeing, and that fire had had to be put out quickly.

But Joyce made you happy. And you really made her feel the same way too.

But with Joyce always letting you over to her place, and knowing how hard she works, you constantly wanted to be a helping hand, right by her side. So today, you’d come to visit Joyce, hoping you two would have a few more minutes until Will and Johnathan were home. No such luck, but Will had already thrown his bag on the ground and gone to his room, and Johnathan looked like he was about to do the same, just in Joyce’s pantry by the time you walked through the door.

She didn’t notice you, too busy trying to find something in the cupboard under the sink. You gave a quick nod to Johnathan, at the other end of the kitchen, who gave one back, headphones in. So when you walked up to Joyce, you ran your hands down her shoulders and past her arms.

“Ooh!” Joyce jumped, looking up with the biggest brown eyes you swear you’ve ever seen in your life, and she smiles so happily at you. “Oh! It’s you. Hi honey!” She already has her arms open before she’s even stood up, coming to give you her world famous hugs, and you wrap your arms around her waist back. Her hair’s loose, so you let yourself bury your face into her shoulder, drinking in her smell. It’s weird, her scent is the one thing that always seems to stay with you.

Joyce pulls back warmly, her hands still on your shoulders. “I didn’t know you were coming! Are you staying for dinner?”

You can see the excitement in her eyes. How happy she is to see you here. Joyce says you make her feel giddy like a school girl, but she always has your heart fluttering too. “Mhm! If you’ll have me.”

“I’ll always have you.” Joyce smiles, before you chuckle through your nose, and the both of you dip your heads with quiet laughs at the shared joke.

You realise you haven’t let go of Joyce’s waist yet, but a quick eye flicker in your peripheral lets you know Johnathan’s lost in his magazine and music. So you manage to give her hip a quick rub, before turning your hand to do the same to her bicep. “And what’re you doing? I thought the store already worked you to death.”

Joyce rolls her eyes upwards at the mention of her work, her smile still on her face, letting you know her exhaustion. At least it was something you could ease out of her later. Maybe even including a nice massage.

“I know, but I didn’t have time to I do the dishes this morning.” Joyce blows her lips.

But you brush her hands to the side, stepping forward. “Well here, let me do that then.”

“No, no no.” Joyce gently holds your hands back, pushing them away before you can start. “I’ve got it, there’s only a couple. Besides, I need to have enough dishes for you tonight. And I know what you’re gonna say now, so don’t.” Joyce screws her face up cutely, quickly brushing your pouted lips with her finger, as you both try to get each other to take yourselves seriously.

“You work yourself too hard.” You tell her again, for one of the few times, letting your voice be clear enough, just in case one of her sons hears and decides to help their dear mom out.

But Joyce steps forward, her eyes flicking behind you, at Jonathan, before she speaks lowly, close to your face “Well it’s nice I have you to help me afterwards then.”

When Joyce moves back, you allow her to see the look of pleasant surprise on your face. Joyce was rarely flirty in public, well she was a little, but mostly in ways where they could be taken as innocent instead. You loved seeing the more ‘Joyce’ sides of her being freed around you.

But, with a quick look around her home behind you, you had your sights set on a new task. And shoving back the want to lean forward and peck her, you squeeze Joyce’s hands instead, innocent enough. “Okay, I’ll be back in a second.”

You heard the chair behind you squeak, and watched Johnathan bin his cookie packet, giving him a quick salute with your now very free hands, and Johnathan attempts a small smile at you before leaving to his own room, headphones still in. Could he not have done that sooner?

“Okay.” Joyce gently touches your side, and you turn back to her with a smile. Joyce let you have free reign in her house, and you felt comfortable enough to do so. So while Joyce turned back to her kitchen, both of you keeping your smiling faces on each other until Joyce had to turn away with a flustered hand to her face, so cute, you made sure her back was turned, as you grabbed the overflowing laundry basket just outside her bathroom that you’d caught sight of, and started walking it down to her basement washer.

You stuff all of the clothes and towels in the washing machine, spotting a few of your own clothes you’ve worn recently, than Joyce had shoved to the bottom of the laundry basket. You laugh through your nose, shaking your head at how good Joyce is. Also, probably a good thing you didn’t inspire Johnathan to help his mom out. You fling a pair of your black underwear into the washing machine, along with Joyce’s similarly coloured bra. That one was your fault for getting dirty.

You add in the washing powder with the scooper in a box on her shelf, before shutting the lid, and making sure you were going to press the right buttons. Focusing so hard, you barely heard the creak of the stairs.

“You didn’t have to help with that!”

Joyce is smiling as she rides down the steps. You can assume she shut the door behind her, and you wave her off with a smirk.

“You’re a guest!” Joyce repeats, meeting you below with a pleased grin, but you chortle. “I’ve crashed here more nights than I can count, including the last two, and probably tonight. And well, I saw some of that in there was mine as well.” You blink sweetly at her, hoisting yourself on top of the washing machine, reaching your hands out for your lover with a smile. At least the eventual noise and floor distance might finally give you two some privacy. You can never keep your hands off each other for long.

Joyce takes your hands happily in her smooth ones, giving a big smile with her shoulders hiking and chin jutting out at you, before coming in, being helped by your pull, and leaning in for a kiss.

You move your arms to hold onto her waist, humming happily into your kiss as you finally get to hold her again. Joyce’s lipstick you’ve noticed her wearing more since seeing you, brushing faintly against your lips, as she rests her hands on your thighs. Both of you kissing sweetly.

“Wait.” You whisper against Joyce’s lips, her pulling back dotingly with a curious look. One of your hands stretches teasingly over her waist and lower back, holding her close as you tilt your head to her. “So they don’t hear.” You move down between your legs, letting Joyce follow your hand, before you turn on her washing machine. The hum and rattle quickly filling the air.

You two keep kissing for a while. Giggling, and playing with each other’s hair, hands only holding each other as you both make out. Joyce has a few strands of your hair in her hands, lips moulding perfectly, effortlessly, into your own, moaning pleased into your mouth as her fingers play. Meanwhile yours are fiddling with the hem of her shirt, she knows you want it off, like you always do. But as Joyce pulls back from one kiss for air, she notices your thighs pressed together. And then when she really looks, you thinking she’s just watching your body, as your face buries needily into her neck, Joyce realises you’ve been wiggling on her washing machine.

She slips her hand to the inside of your thigh, biting her lip to stop herself from giggling at your wet mewl right into her neck, stretching her fingertips so they can spread onto the vibrating machine. Now you look up.

“Naughty girl. Did you just wanna use my machine?” Joyce smiles, her brown eyes teasing and playful, as she rubs the inside of your thigh. She knows you love being called her good, and naughty girl. Being her girl.

You shake your head though. And Joyce’s expression widens teasingly, like she’s putting herself in charge of your game. “Oh no?” She asks you quietly, but still laughing, entwining your fingers with hers and pressing her soft lips against your hand as she does so.

You shake your head again. “Why would I need to use that, when I have you?” You ask at her teasing volume, innocently.

You watch Joyce blush, and you nudge her chin with your joined hands, beckoning her closer to share another deep kiss.

You feel Joyce sliding her tongue over yours, and you moan appreciatively as you kiss against it, allowing her into your mouth, taking it yourself, brushing your tongue softly over hers, rubbing up and down Joyce’s waist and slinking your hands under her shirt there. You love the times Joyce gets more confident. It hasn’t been too long with her, so it still takes a little while before she starts to be more forthcoming during your little sessions. Although with the way you’re going, you’re going to be completely dommed by her in almost every meeting. She’s had a few times of her own where she’s surprised you with that already. You were definitely not complaining though.

Joyce hooks her hands under your bare knees, in your shorts, pulling you closer, as her own legs stand firm against the rattling machine. You wrap your legs around Joyce, both of you pressing your chests together, wanting to be closer. Although you do notice with Joyce’s grip on your thighs, she’s still pushing your lower half into her machine.

You giggle into her kiss, relishing in the feeling of the bumps, and thuds, and swirls, and shakes, and buzzes of the machine you’re sitting on top of. Letting yourself feel all of it as you grab onto Joyce’s waist, pulling her lips into your own and letting her taste you, while you eat up her own moans. Hoping you’ll let her have a treat and discover how wet you are when her hand finally ventures there.

But pushing those needy thoughts aside for a moment, you know there’s something you want more.

You pull Joyce in even closer, running your hands up her bare back, so your fingers can play with her bra buckle, kissing her collar. “I want you to sit on here.” Your eyes go big.

“Noo honey, I-“ Joyce looks up at the ceiling, and you know there are other people in the house. But you’re very good at helping her keep quiet.

You remove your hands, stroking her face quickly. “I wanna treat you first, if we don’t have a lot of time.”

Slipping off the machine and landing on the floor, you sigh. Your legs jelly, and really feeling the loss of the vibrations. Feeling something wet and warm pooling immediately into your underwear now you’re stood.

At your sigh, a shiver runs up Joyce’s spine. Making her shudder, a quick breath coming out, as she looks to you in anticipation, and trust. Hooked, like always.

Holding her hand, you get Joyce sat on top of the machine. And as soon as she is, your hands are greedily at her waist again, and your tongue is lavishing on her neck before your lips can follow.

Joyce’s head rolls back, holding your lower half, and you lap your tongue over her neck, making your bottom lip drag up her skin as it follows.

Joyce moans breathily, deeply, and you can feel her chest brushing against your chin when you lean down to nibble your lips over her collarbone. Then, as your tongue flattens and your teeth nibble, as you suck a mark into the sensitive spot of Joyce’s neck, just below most of her shirt lines as agreed, although stretching this shirt with your greedy hands right now, a higher moan leaves Joyce. And you quickly place your hand over her mouth. Soothing the hickey with lots of small kisses, meeting her eyes and seeing how gushy her big brown orbs are.

You both look upwards, but no movement, no sound, you’re sure their music and the washing machine would cover you two anyway. Joyce gives your hand a kiss, and you smile down at her, humming happily as her lips detach from it, while you pull your hand away.

Hungrily, your tongue pokes through your lips as you quickly takes Joyce’s top off, her lifting her arms up to help you. You grasp her cheek as you kiss her again, letting her hair fall back into place, as she noisily lets her lips move in tandem with yours. Now starting to rock on the machine.

You move your head back, admiring the top half of her body in just her dark bra, running your hands up and down her waist. “You’re so pretty. Fuck. You’re so beautiful Joyce.” You lean your head into her cheek for a moment, pulling back, still holding her, admiring her, for how gorgeous she is. You still can’t believe she likes you enough too. She’s amazing.

“Thank you baby.” Joyce rasps out, her hands falling to your neck, and your face, and her eyes serious on yours. Lips sucked in, but still with a hint of a smile. You hold her face in both your hands, letting her know you’re really looking, right at her. “Oh my God, you’re so pretty. Seriously. Those eyes too God... I don’t know how I ever got so lucky.” You breathe out amazed. Smiling.

Joyce blushes, and you can see the emotion in her face. But a smile breaks out before anything else can, and you easily allow yourself to be pulled in for another kiss again. Eating her up, just as Joyce does you, both of you laughing smally into each other’s mouths. In fact, Joyce doesn’t seem like she wants to let go, still just kissing your lower lip and your chin messily, when you pull away. “You are too y/n. You’re fucking beautiful.” Joyce squeezes your face in her hands, like she’s having cuteness overload, and you just have to kiss her again. This time, through her smiling lips, some heavier breaths come through, and when you sink your hand in between her very closed off thighs, and she whines into your lips, and even then you can feel the vibrations through her, you know part of the reason why.

Moaning, nosing at her neck, you kiss down it again. This time slightly quicker, holding her small bare waist in your hands, your lips and your tongue spreading wet and meaningful kisses all the way down Joyce’s neck, and down her chest. Making sure to press them over the tops of both of her breasts.

Joyce’s hand goes to your head, watching you in awe, as she always does at seeing you worship her body. Her hand smooth over the back of your hair, and red lips stretched in a pleasured ‘o’ shape, her other hand bracing on your shoulder, body rolling into your mouth with each kiss you give her, eyebrows softly knitted, watching you entirely.

You kiss down her cleavage, and finish off at the point just before the centre of her bra starts, just barely pressing your face in, feeling your nose and lips slip by, as your hands continue caressing her warm waist. You kiss the small part of her bra holding her chest together - trapping her poor girls - before your kisses move down to praise all over her perfect stomach.

You move to crouch down, but your hands still hold Joyce there, massaging her waist as you kiss over her stomach, stopping just blow her belly button, and above the hem of her pants. And as you press your chin to Joyce’s tummy, you peer right up at her. Your big eyes on her lustfilled, loving brown ones, looking straight up at her, before quietly, under the hum of the machine, popping the button of her jeans.

#Joyce Byers/reader #citrussy #Joyce Byers fluff #also my first lone Joyce fic/drabble so another woohoo! I love her sm it’s insane 🎉🥰💕😭 #Joyce Byers #Joyce Byers x reader #Joyce Byers drabble #stranger things #ask #anon #3k

[unsaidcurses]

can you please write smth with reader comforting marcus and being his support system after todays shit show.

i rly need it, i just want to forget todays race happened 😭😭😭

you don't have to go through this alone// m.a.

summary: marcus needs some comforting after monza and you're there to be his support system

pairing: marcus armstrong × reader

wordcount: 2.7k

warning: angst, graphic description of a breakdown, monza weekend (it's a tw itself basically), tiny bit of cursing 

a/n: i swear he's cursed or it doesn't make sense + probably he can pass the curse because tumblr deleted half of this and I had to rewrite :D anyways, is this more dramatic and cheesy than it should have? yes do i care? not particularly

the “delete” button doesn’t exist in real life, right? because if it did, you would certainly have pressed it by now, for marcus’ sake.

it was monza weekend and you accompanied marcus. thank god you did because it had been a real shit couple of races for him, and just the thought of leave him alone dealing with them destroyed you.

he qualified pretty well, to be honest, ending p3, which meant he would start in decent positions both in the sprint and feature race.

it looked so good on friday, you were confident about it.

saturday came and the sprint race with it. you were watching in from the motorhome, nervousness eating you alive as you looked at him overtaking some cars. nothing too bad happened. but then the last three laps arrived and when jack and liam started pushing him for sixth place, marcus had little choice but to skip across the run-off area, keeping his position. you didn’t think much of it, since your main concern was to see him on the track and not in the wall, and you just continued watching the cars speeding around.

when he crossed the line, you were content and satisfied. he finished p6 gaining one position from where he started, which meant a couple of point to bring home. at some point you heard the commentators saying that someone got a 5 second penalty, therefore out of curiosity you asked a mechanics who got it, and your face dropped hearing his answer.

“it’s marcus. he went off track and gained advantage. 5 seconds will bring him back to tenth.”

you tried to rub off your sad expression when you saw him coming closer to the garage. you didn't know if he was aware of the penalty and you didn't want to worry or scary him off in case nobody told him yet.

you kept your eyes on him all the time, from when he spoke to his race engineer, who you assumed announced him what happened, to when he went patting every mechanics’ shoulders murmuring small apologies for his mistake. after he was done, he made his way towards the back of the motorhome, close to his driver room, where he knew you always awaited him.

he stood there in front of you with a disappointed expression on his face. the only thing you thought of doing in that moment was to circle his body with your arms, trying to comfort him a bit, to which he responded just with sliding one hand on the small of your back. it made you frown: he never hugged you like that, if you can even call that a hug.

“hey, hug me properly. you love my hugs.” you tried to cheer him up, looking up at him when you noticed how his eyes were fixed on the floor.

“i don’t love when i finish out of the points though.” the remark came out with a serious tone you hardly ever heard him use. you were almost scared that the usual “make jokes to lighten up the mood” wouldn’t work as it commonly did, so you gave one last try.

“and your hatred for bad races is bigger than your love for my hugs? is it so debilitating?”

“mh, i don’t know let me check.” he placed both arms around your shoulders, gently stroking them. although you couldn't see each other's faces, his action put a smile on both of them.

“i guess i love you a bit more.” he chuckled. you were glad he still had some optimism, after all the next day he would have a huge opportunity starting from second row.

“why don’t you go shower and then we can celebrate with felipe and have some fun?” you hinted at the championship winner, bringing marcus in his room by pulling his hand.

“of course, i’ll be back in a flash.”

-

sunday morning was a repeat of the previous day. in hitch's garage, watching your boyfriend's car race with headphones on, but starting from third today.

you were hopeful. marcus was determined to fight for the podium today, if not even for a win. he wanted to prove himself after the two awful years he had in f2 that he was meant to be there, that he was fast and talented, just extremely unlucky. you perfectly knew it was not an easy game, considering the two drivers who pressured him from the back yesterday were in front of him today, but a huge smile appeared on your face as you see jack in pole struggling when the lights went off, allowing the new zealander to overtake him on the inside.

not even five seconds since the race started and marcus was already in second place, not bad right? wrong. 

six laps later, felipe passed marcus right before a huge incident that caused the deployment of a safety car. he slipped into third again, but regained the position as soon as the track was clear.

after a couple of laps, another incident took place and similarly as before, it resulted in a safety car.

hitech wasn’t particularly famous for making the most efficient pit stops on the grid, especially when it came to marcus’ car, so you hoped they didn’t mess up everything when you saw a silver car pulling in the pit lane. little did you know you didn’t have to worry about the pit itself, but about the way he got in. everything happened too fast, you didn’t understand if the engineer called him late or if he didn’t brake in time, the point is that the boy entered beyond the entry bollard, which caused him a ten second stop and go penalty.

you pulled your hands to your mouth in disbelief. each time he qualified high enough to compete for big points, something had to happen. It’s not like you wish anything bad to any driver, but sometimes the question “why always him?” passed through your mind. did he do something horrible in his past life to deserve this? was he a serial killer? judas? it’s not possible he was so unfortunate all the time with no explanation.

seeing his car getting on track, you didn't have time to rationalize your last thought as a red graphic with his car's number appeared on the screen.

another stop and go penalty for speeding in the pit lane.

“you can’t be real!” you couldn’t contain your shout, removing the headphone from your head and walking away from your spot. it’s absurd to throw away a race in less than 500 meters, yet it happened and clearly marcus was the victim, who else otherwise?

you were disappointed, as the whole garage was, after all, but you knew that none of that compared to what marcus was feeling, and you felt the world breaking in your hands realizing how devastating that could be. he was so positive that morning, only to get it snatched from his hands.

continuing watching the race was so painful, looking at him trying to gain as much ground as he could, but with his gap, you could consider that a wild-goose chase. the only thing that prevented him from being last was liam, who lost a lot of time after being hit by juri.

the race felt interminable, but eventually the checked flag brought an end to this disaster. marcus rushed out of the car, did the bare minimum he had to do publicly without even removing his helmet, like weighting himself and giving an apology to the team, and then left for his room basically running

“marcus, it’s me, can i come in?” you walked to the door and knocked on it, waiting for an answer that never came. you stood there some seconds and tried to lower the handle and then you realized: he locked himself in. you acknowledged the fact that he didn’t want to see, nor be seen from anybody, not even you, which explains why he purposely avoided the side of the garage where you usually were.

so you just waited there, with your forehead resting on the cold material of the door, counting minutes passing and watching all the mechanics moving around and leaving.

you heard a faint click, but at first it didn’t sink it was the key on the other side twisting in the lock. it did only when the solid object that was sustaining you wasn’t anymore, and you almost fell on the ground. you looked up to your boyfriend who had a blank expression on his face.

“can we go get lunch? i’m exhausted, i just want to eat and go to our room.” you wanted to check up on him and ask him if he was okay but he beat you to it by talking first. his face shifted to a pleading look, so you did not insist and just nodded as you walked toward the restaurant he found the other day in front of the hospitality.

not a word left marcus’ mouth during the meal. he didn’t even order, he just mumbled “the same” after you asked the waiter some dishes. some of his friends were with you and he didn’t laugh at their jokes, sometimes he smiled slightly but nothing more.

you slid your hand on his thigh, his eyes left his plate to meet yours and softened immediately, then he moved and placed his head on your shoulder. seeing him like this made you feel so powerless, you at least hoped that the contact could give him some comfort.

the lunch carried on and shortly after he finished his dishes, marcus tugged at your hand still on his leg as an indication to leave, therefore you said goodbye to everybody and headed to your hotel room.

as soon as he entered the room, the driver laid down on the bed. you observed him from the main door with his back turned to you, curling up with his legs close to his chest as to shield his body from all the thing that happened to him in the previous hours and shut them out of his existence.

your heart clenched at the sight. you didn’t know what to do, how to act. looking at the person you love knowing that they’re hurt, that their world is crumbling under their feet and not being able to stop it and protect them, it’s a nightmare.

you stepped closer to the bed and sat on the edge, brushing his hair with your hand in a soothing way.

“are you sure you don’t want to talk about the race?” the question came out as a whisper, not wanting to break the bubble you were in even more than you already did by just talking.

“what do I have to say about it? It was a shit show!” he answered turning briefly towards you, showing his defeated look, returning to his original position after finishing the sentence with an harsh tone. “and we can’t change how things went, it’s useless wasting time on it. just drop it, okay?”

“marcus-“ you called him passing on the other side of the bed to look at his face. “you don’t have to go through this alone.”

this was the last straw of keeping it together. he didn’t want to complain or bother you but when he realized you just wanted him to decompress and share his thoughts with you, he finally opened up.

"i'm tired of putting so much effort in this sport and always being walked all over. when i have the pace, i don’t have a good pit stop. when i have a good pit stop, i don’t have the qualification. and when i have the qualification, i mess up everything anyway!” he ranted sitting up. his hands were moving in the air and his eyes were darting in every direction.

“the fda dropped me, and i will lose my seat in formula 2 the end of the year.” listening him reviewing every single bad event he went through was a stab in the heart, and you really wanted to stop him and disagree with him, but he was unravelling everything he bottled up not only for months but probably years at this point, so you waited in silence listening to him.

“i left home when i was a fucking kid, i didn’t see my siblings grow up, i gave up time with my family, i give up time with you!" his voice progressively increased, breaking at the end of it.

“all of these sacrifices to just get a slap in the face."

he almost started rambling again, but it was clear he couldn't continue. his head fell in his hands, and hot tears escaped his eyes. he didn’t even have the strength to try to stop it, he just let everything go.

you immediately pulled him as close as humanly possible, his head naturally went in the crook of your neck, muffling some of the sobs of despair that left his parted lips. you hold him tight, as a way to tell him that you were there and he was not alone.

imagine how long and how much he held off to explode like this, to end in such an agonizing cry. with a lump in your throat, you whispered sweet nothings to his ear, hoping it would calm him down, and with some swinging back and forth, it did. after a good amount of time, his breath steadied, except for some hiccups sometimes. 

there weren’t big words of comfort you could offer him, after unfolding years of frustration and disappointment. you just wanted to make him realize that the majority of the things he said were none of his fault and that he deserved his place. 

“i’m so sorry you have to deal with all of this. I wish I had a magic wand to make all of this go away,” you let your hand wander through his hair, moving his head to look him in eyes. you meant every word, and you wanted to be sure he understood that. “but I do have time to listen. always. please don’t ever keep all of this to yourself, okay? you’re my boyfriend and best friend, helping you in any way I can is my top priority. we go through things together, and will work them out.”

the grey eyes turned teary once more, but from happiness this time. your words made him feel so supported and loved, he couldn’t find a better way to show you his gratitude than hugging you back, holding on to dear life, with your legs tangled together.

minutes passed and you slowly moved backwards, till you completely laid down on the mattress, marcus using your chest as a pillow while being wrapped safely around your arms as if you were the only thing who could protect him from all the atrocities the world may hold.

“i’m booking a flight for christchurch, okay? we can’t do much about the past, but you have ten free weeks ahead before the next race. spending some time with your family surely won’t hurt.” after meditating about how you could actively help him, you broke the silence.

“are you coming too, right?” he asked in a tiny voice, doubting you would let him down like the whole feeder series world did.

“of course, if you want me to.” you pulled the blanket over your bodies. “why don’t you rest a bit now, mh? you really need and deserve that.”

you felt him nodding subtly, a small yawn following. it wasn’t just for the play when he said he was exhausted, at the end of the day he still had an eventful feature race in the morning.

as you glanced at his face while caressing it continuously, you were met with a peaceful expression, finally. you let your cheek fall on the top of his head, letting your body relax at the thought of him sleeping.

except for the fact that he was still awake.

“thank you. for being my support system and choosing to be by my side every day. I couldn’t ask for anything better honestly. I love you.” 

it was unusual for him to make this kind of confessions, wearing his heart on his sleeves, spilling what he felt deeply, but if he didn’t say it today, when was he supposed to?

“i love you too marcus. dearly.”

and with that you both doze off, with the awareness that you were there for each other no matter what, through thick and thin, whatever your lives offered you.

#marcus armstrong #marcus armstrong x reader #marcus armstrong imagine #f2 #f2 imagine #f2 x reader

[calebwittebane]

idk im just thinking about the like sharp decline ive been doing since like idk 2019? looking back now its obvious my repressed stuff was finally catching up to me and starting to beat the hell out of me. but i guess maybe its good ive been more public and in touch with the fact that im a very damaged and unwell person who (and i dont mean to be a downer, this is only about myself, dont apply this to yrself) will never be truly alright and will never not be damaged and unwell. projecting this image of trustworthiness and stability was bad i think and it was so paper-thin too even though i believed it myself cuz i was living in a fantasy land of "nothing thats ever happened to me was That Bad and im managing im doing it im doing preddy well and when im doing badly its only in easily digestible ways". like no sorry im insane. yes im likeable and lovable and i deserve a good life and to have full agency over myself but im insane and not a good person. im struggling. i dont "have temporary low points" im at a low point in general like my life is a low point. like at this point i have to admit ive Not Been Doing So Great Lately like all my life lol. and well, maybe its understandable. i rly did go through some Really Bad Stuff that i had normalized and/or repressed and thus never spoke about them until somewhat recently. i just feel bad that i gave people the wrong impression about myself. like yeah sorry im insane and shouldve never been listened to about anything cuz i had no cleaugh what i was doing

to sum things up im insane but my thighs are so thick

[icharchivist]

me: i’ll probably make a summary of my thoughts every 10 or so chapters, whatever feels natural.

me 5 chapters into awakening moon: i need to write down my thoughts NOW or i’ll die.

uh. so. hello icha!! I’m on break rn which is why i’m able to do this haha. this is just about the first five chapters of awakening moon… um so actually i was stuck at a relatives place for a lot of new years and ended up? just reading the translation for all of act 1 that was on the wiki as well as alex in wonderland bc those were the two i didn’t rly take notes on? I think also the azuma and sakyo hot spring event i didn’t do notes for… but everything else i had some notes so i thought it’d be good if i could review act 1 a little in preparation. and gee golly am i GLAD I DID. bc 5 chapters in and im being proven sooooo right abt all my thoughts.

this’ll come in handy when talking abt other characters, but most relevantly I was rly able to pick out some hisoka moments i hadn’t noticed earlier… firstly when winter first finds hisoka, he actually doesn’t want them to call the police—I mean i’d get why but also i think he probably instinctively is wary of the police? which i have to think adds to his assassin points, which is my imaginary tip jar for pieces of evidence that point towards hisoka being an assassin. These pretty much also just go hand in hand with hisoka having any time of… nefarious sort of career pre-amnesia, so being a spy or involved in some type of espionage or something feels… appropriate. some assassins do spy stuff as well! but assassin is the guess thats most fun for me to say. lol. pretend it’s a catch-all. um next hisoka, when asked to play a character, asks for really specific details like age and background, and then izumi describes him as acting very… realistically? and later when they’re doing their play she notes that hisoka has gotten a bit more expressive in his acting! I think that sense of realism really works well with his role in sympathy for the angel—hes the most bluntly realistic about everything, it feels, so i’d imagine his more understated nature of acting fits well there… i’d also say that for someone who probably has no acting experience, doing espionage or something like that would train you in some specific kinds of acting! which is maybe why hisoka needs those extra details—it’s more like a cover story, then, and why his acting has that sense of realism—it’s acting that needs to exist in the real world, not the kind of acting that is Performance.

also tasuku asks if hisoka did martial arts, because his footsteps don’t make any sound… assassin points. I think there’s this part where izumi almost gets hit by something on stage or something like that and hisoka saves her? and tasuku says like are you a ninja? and homare mentions that hisoka moved so fast that he couldn’t see him… assassin points. I’ve mentioned the lie low and recover stamina thing already… as well as how when izumi approaches him from behind he pins her to the wall immediately. umm but i forgot that he specifically disappeared because he had a cold! so he didn’t want to… show any weakness, i guess, and just ran away. that felt very assassin to me. I’m basing this off of killua of course, since he also has a sort of “run away when you’re weakened” philosophy. and also!! when they’re talking about their type in romantic partners, hisoka wants someone who’s independent and not clingy. I imagine that has to do with like… as an assassin or as a spy i bet he traveled a lot… so he couldn’t really get attached to people, unlike how he is with the winter troupe. like at first he didn’t even want to get a futon bc he needed to be able to sleep anywhere. probably had to be used to roughing it for whatever assassin work he was doing. and finally… hisoka had memories related to the ocean, where he was like. he said he probably washed ashore from there? and chikage’s always been doing a lot of overseas business trips… i was making connections.

anyways. I bet that hisoka and chikage were both assassins or doing the same kind of work, and that chikage was april and hisoka was december (and chikage is maybe wearing hisokas jacket?? since it says dece right there) AND when he introduced himself!!! He said his bday was april 15th!!! so you can imagine the VINDICATION i felt when chikage confronted hisoka and went "What's the meaning of this, December?” LIKE I CALLED IT. I NOTICED THE DETAILS!!! Unrelated but google tells me hisokas bday is december 3rd? google could be wrong but i didn’t want to check further for fear of spoilers but ah. if that’s true I share a birthday with hisoka!!

wanted to get that out of the way non-chronologically… putting a pin in that, I’ll talk some more abt it later. anyways the actual chapters in the order they came. those thoughts.

getting fully voiced lines again!!! oh my god!!! I checked and i got through sardine search in june of 2021 so dear god, has it been a while. I feel like i notice so much!! the tone of the voices and everything… its so good i missed it. love being able to pick up random words here and there with my “acquired through knowing the translated title as well as the original of japanese songs” knowledge. and MIZUNO GOT TO SEE ROMEO AND JULIUS… and tsuzuru looks so happy to hear that!!! crazy. crazyyyy. Imagine never having read clockwork heart and reading that and being like “who’s that” instead of LOSING MY MIND.

it makes sense that they’d try to recruit a single person instead of doing an open audition, since that would be a little tough if at the end u were like. ok we’re taking One Person. sakyo was also like its nice since u can trust the person which is so funny to me. I mean good caution since the whole godza spy thing happened but also its like. I know you’re going to recruit chikage and im squinting at the screen like… is he someone you can trust? since i think he’s an assassin. also his face just makes me think of like… a sly tanuki, lol. but this also provides good context as to how all these act 2 members kind of already relate to the act 1 charas! its story convenience since u don’t have to establish a dynamic from wholecloth with a whole “first meeting” bit, but it’s also convenient in-story itself since having some familiarity with the person would probably make them easier to trust! a neat thing that works from a watsonian and doylist perspective lol. also whoever joined spring HAD to know itaru, since itaru would have to like. give up his solitary gamer pad (which imo is the more accurate term as compared to man cave)

masumi not answering his phone and saying he doesn’t know the number… considering it was? a secretary? That izumi called at first, I bet it’s his parents. I’m also like on my knees BEGGING for some more masumi developments this episode. (it’s… episode for each troupe season, right? and then chapter for each individual bit. that’s what i’m doing, at least). but oh my god i’m with tsuzuru here. masumi you should be answering sakuya’s calls. the masumi & sakuya dynamic is actually really interesting to me, though! like first off until we did this year forward (which, considering the anniversary event was just before this, seems like they’re retconning that the first 4 plays took one year and instead are going with that these first 12 plays took place in a year…? I think? I’m confused abt the timeline but I refuse to search it up lol) and this is how I realized sakuya’s actually a year older than masumi… it’s cool to see he went right into theatre! he does love it after all. but he still wakes up masumi who’s cranky in the morning haha. usually with these two and the play they did, I would’ve thought it’d be a dynamic of like… cheery guy and cool guy aren’t close at first but slowly the cool aloof guy gets attached but ah… it still feels like masumi didn’t really get that. attached. it’s a very interesting situation to me, because they definitely spend time together and care for each other but they don’t necessarily feel… close? it’ll be interesting to see if that develops. nocturnality’s description of the troupes is, once again, on point—spring troupe is really like a family more than just a group of friends. speaking of that though I’ve been talking to my friend about a3 and he asked me, like, autumn was described as comrades for the same cause, right? what is that cause? and I had to be like… um, acting? because I didn’t know how to say it any better haha. since it’s acting for everyone, too… I think there is a certain flair autumn has in the way it feels like they’re challenging each other a little bit—exemplified with juza and banri, but it’s present with others, too. still I wasn’t sure how to word it?

it’s nice that juza is w/ omi and tsuzuru and banri is with kazunari at uni!!! good they’re not in the same university because… that would be a lot. the moment citron mentioned chika-usa I was like. ah. chikage. like I literally even Just saw him in a bunny outfit… if I didn’t get it from the chika bit I’d get it from the usa bit now. it’ll be exciting to see that reveal since I think he and izumi can talk curry a lot! also he can help with blogging which is nice

then began chikage’s introduction of which I was mentally yelling in my head “HES TRICKING YOU. NO PERSON CAN BE THAT POLITE AND PATIENT AND PERFECTLY GENIAL AND MILD.” I’m just saying like he’s tooo normal to not be faking it. he’s literally itaru’s coworker and we know how that guy appeared versus his real self. so when he says like “I’m a huge fan” about the blog and I go “no. you’re just stalking hisoka.” but like his self-introduction is so normie and at least my personal evaluation of his audition was that he was realistic but not dramatic? A thing which matches quite well with how I think hisoka performs… though again izumi doesn’t really detail that far in about his style, this is just me evaluating him. but yeah wow I wonder why you’d be good at acting, chikage… ever done any espionage? his coin cg looked nice! but I’m just saying… quick with his hands doing magic tricks… hisoka can be so quick you can’t see him, too… also if ur fun party skill inherently involves deception and misdirection as magic tricks do… then I don’t have to trust this pleasant person mask you have. also the way chikage tells sakuya “you seem like you would be the first to go down in a battle” wow I bet you’ve been in some life or death battle situations. being an assassin and all. although, I love the way citron agrees.

izumi: (he's already won them over. I'm glad he's fitting in so well!)

me, banging pots and pans together: ITS AN ACT!!!! ITS AN ACT!!! like he just sounds sooo cloying. like hes being patient with children

and when hisoka appeared izumi saw chikages smile slip!! I thought it was fun to see homare nagging gently at hisoka to introduce himself tho lol… I wish they’d done the coin game. I think hisoka may have guessed correctly. but the way hisokas like well I don’t have anything to say abt myself except my name and homare is then immediately like *gasp* let me list all my hisoka facts!!

and THEN when chikage approached hisoka in the night. THE VOICE CHANGE. HE DROPPED LIKE AN OCTAVE I FUCKING KNEW HIS POLITE VOICE WAS HIDING SOMETHING. I realize amnesia’s hard to believe but god if ur an assassin or whatever in some mystery organization u should be able to believe in amnesia.

this line though: "...All this time I thought you had died together with August." but hisoka doesn't even remember what he said when he was sick! I do remember him apologizing, though… he’s got survivor’s guilt for sure i bet. I was very alarmed by how hisokas yknow. normally gentle and soft voice got very distressed at this part tho! especially when he said his head hurts… I wanted to hug him.

"...Then remember this. My name is April, and I'm here to avenge everything you took away from me." hmph. called it. but also. inigo montoya much? and those flowers WERE threats.

ch 4 starting out with the title reading "yume nikki" gave me immediate flashbacks like. I know it just means dream diary but I will always just think of the game only. hisoka’s flashback though… it was so well written. the emphasis on coldness really got me—it makes sense that at the beginning, he’d even sleep outside in the cold! but wow. he grew up like. starving and without a home. "my hands, my face, my body... everything's cold." and "they weren't like me. they must have had real homes." i am weeping. I am inconsolable.

veryyyyy cool to get hisoka stuff in spring, though. i'd hoped, but wasn't sure since it was the spring play and not the winter one. perhaps that'll all reverse with winter since guy will join then and citron can get hi emo time then? the ch doesn’t say who those two kids who talk to hisoka are, but i’m guessing they’re august and april (with the kid that keeps insulting hisoka being april)... we’ll see about that. and they’re inviting hisoka to join the Organization. Hmmm. okay. while i’d love to point and say “and HERE’s the assassin club!” it’s probably a bit more realistic that these people are… multi-talented in their dealings. organization to me implies more than just like assassin-for-hire but like. actual plans so they r um. maybe. …a. what’s the mundane version of a big evil organization? a terrorist agency…? a shady intelligence guild? it doesn’t rly sound like a yakuza/mafia deal. well anyways that’s what i maybe think hisoka is a part of. that’s 100% the kind of group that would take in kids off of the street. probably some of them do assassinations in em.

the "if you stay here like this, you'll die." / "nowhere else... to go." exchange made me lose my mind. Whenever there is ever a piece of media where some character goes like “if you keep being this way, you’ll ruin your life” but that way of life is the ONLY way that person knows how to live, even if its ruining them… that gets me. and then the "how many times have I thought I might die, yet ended up living? living on, all alone." line from hisoka… like this is before august died but i imagine in the period after august died and he hadn’t joined mankai yet… that was true again, wasn’t it. AND THEN THE GINGERBREAD. THAT’S WHY HE FROZE UP DURING THE CHRISTMAS PLAY!!! BECAUSE THAT WAS THE FIRST FOOD HE WAS OFFERED BY THESE TWO… it is funny that they reeled him in with a snack here… it’s the same in the future, only it’s just marshmallows. still, for a kid surviving out on the streets... sweets are probably like a precious delicacy, huh… since they’re not particularly filling. they’re just nice. a step above plain survival. and then hisoka’s told that they’re family now… thinking about how he says that winter troupe is the place he belongs, later.

back to the present i love how when yuzo comes in citron so pleasantly says"oh, yuzo! have you lost your day job?" pfft. makes sense that chikages articulate. hes probably practiced his voice a lot since this one is miles away from his threatening voice, ahah. Also love how hes like “ive dabbled in kabuki!” and no one can tell if he’s telling the truth or not. like i said. he’s suspicious. yuzo agrees with me seeing as hes like chikage’s too calm around everyone. I thought the interview was funny! like tsuzuru, you’ve managed to somehow precog everyone’s character arcs and personalities well enough, but this time you need to interview the guy? yet you parallels a weird amount of tsumugi and tasukus life with sympathy for the angel without knowing shit about them? yet you absolutely hit upon azuma’s own baggage with nocturnality? Considering chikage seems to joke/lie about a lot of things, it is fair… he’s a pretty mysterious character. Has to be since he’s hiding the fact that he’s an assassin and stuff. I muttered to myself for soooo long about the curry thing though i was like what the fuck is an ultimate curry. curry isn’t even one thing in india. at least in the part of india where i’m from, even our stir fries get called curry (by my family at least!) but then chikage was like. oh its fun to mess with u guys so. okay. hisoka seeing chikage and spring and immediately running off tho… i bet that entire exchange hit him hard especially bc chikage was just like. kind of mean and not helpful lol. excited to see how that goes. i hope winter gets to take care of him since he’s Going Through It right now… i still think whoever is ringing masumi must be his parents. its nice that chikage and izumi get to bond over curry! it'll be interesting when the blog thing gets revealed. itaru seemed weird after he had to explain what a stan was to masumi which is like… i wonder what thats abt. he did mention a little that he had a bad time of it in high school during alice in wonderland so i wonder if thatll ever come up. or mb hes just worried abt chikage seeing his gamer pad. who knows. uh. well. that’s my thoughts on the. first five chapters. I don’t think i’m going to be able to Stop reading this so. I hope ur okay receiving something like this every day-ish.

HI THERE! HELLO THERE! WELCOME TO ACT 2!!!!!!!! I see awakening moon is already having its power on you, so cool.

Chikage time!!!

And ohh that's so cool you get back to previous events. Makes some elements clearer in mind, esp with Hisoka mister subtle exposition backstory over here.

Congratz on noticing all those little details about him on the reread :3c those things still leave me obsessing. Esp the way his acting is described like, that's such an unnatural approach to acting you can't help but raise an eyebrow.

And god yeah. yeah. Hisoka is so weird in the early chapters when you pay extra attention to him it's so much. Another thing from the backstages that might interest you is in Tasuku's New Year's SR (SR - [Careful of Holiday Traffic] - "The Gunslinging Cleaner") where they're all cleaning the dorms, and Winter is doing the bathroom, and Tsumugi and Tasuku end up playing up with the spray bottles to have a pretend fight based on an old play of theirs and it has Tasuku, realistically, get back into his role like he does so well. And Hisoka catches on to that and when Tsumu leaves, he thinks, hey, that was funny, actually funnier that what we're doing, and he takes up two spray bottles as well to play a dual gunner and start to wrap Tasuku into it again. Anyway during this whole bit there's a mention of how Hisoka's way to move feels very natural as he's playing someone who's /using two guns to fight/. Bringing it up so you can add it to your assassin jar.

ANYWAY. CHIKAGE. APRIL. HHHHHHHHHH. You were pointing it out so much in your asks and i was just. pointing while doing uncomprehensible noises, and had to try my best to just go "cool theory! not saying anything tho!" like i wasn't losing my mind because "YOU GOT IT. YOU GOT IT!!!!" (on the April front at least, i'm not confirming anything else LMAO). Chikage's build up was done so well i'm SO glad you caught on the details hhh!! And yeah Hisoka is indeed from Dec. 3rd and omg!!!! twin bday…. I share my bday with his seiyuu personally so we're really onto something here.

The full voice really is so cool!!! And yeah i feel you so much, there's so much characterization in the voice work, the random words we know from song, and even realizing how much they improved since the early day. Always a chill up my spine.

AND YEAH. YEAH THE MIZUNO NAMEDROP. OH MY GOD. holding your hands. See this is why i insisted so hard on you reading all the events, and i'm so glad that you did it. I've had friends who skipped the events because they wanted act 2 so quickly and i was just. no. you don't realize Chikage has been built up, you don't know about Mizuno you dONT- like they legit mentioned then "idk who mizuno is" and i'm just GNHHH. Mizuno!!!

Yeah the audition thing makes sense. esp since now they're popular so it's harder to filter who really would want to make a good actor. not that it means they're actually recruiting a trustworthy bunch bUT. Chikage's face like a sly tanuki so true bestie. His face is up to no good and i love that about him. But yes agreed it works very good on both a wastonian and doylist perspective it's really neat. And YEAH Itaru stamp of approval (to share his gamer pad).

oh god the Masumi's plot. man. (and for the names we improvise as we go, it works out that way). but YEAH Massu you should answer at leAST Sakuay's call gdi!!

ok so for the timeline it's a little weird. In the VN, Sakyo gives them like, a year to revive Mankai first and then one play a month, but it doesn't work with what act 2 says that it's been one year only. In the anime they actually retcon it for real by having Sakyo giving Izumi only one month per troupe, so, it actually fits what the timeline is saying by act 2: that all of act 1's main story and the events all happened in the span of a year. And it makes sense bc at One Play A Month, 3 plays for all 4 troupes gives 12 plays, which makes a lot more sense in general. So Sakyo's original ultimatum has been completely retconned everywhere else at this point.

BUT YEAH SAME i didn't realize Sakuya was older than Masumi until act 2 where the age gap really is pointed out, with Saku leaving High School while Massu is still in. That does explain why Sakuya felt so much "big brotherly" to Masumi too. I do love how he still takes care of Masumi, Sakuya is like. It took me so long for him to even start allowing me around, now i'm his friend nonstop no take back. I think Masumi is "more attached" but it comes from the place of how abyssal his attachement was to start with. Like, Masumi was clearly keeping everyone away before (he didn't even call Sakuya by his name before, that's why Sakuya is overjoyed the day Masumi actually calls him Sakuya) and he's sloooowly letting his guard down but it's not. radical just yet. But yes it does also play on their Nocturnality description of, as a family it doesn't have to be tight and close bond for the love to be unconditional in a way?

And omg about the description and friend. And yeah, so, i think the Japanese term for them is specifically "Nakama" (compared to Spring's "kazoku" (family) and Summer "tomodachi" (friends)). And Nakama is really like. a group of friends or coworkers you're close in with the idea of you're sharing the same goals and ideals. Like, Nakama is used a lot in anime, it can still be close friendship but it's usually in the context of, there's a background that put us together yaknow? and i think "comrades for the same cause" is the best way to translate the idea but as a result this might sound a little clunkier lmao. I think it's, yeah, the goal is acting, but the means to do it is the competition they have against each other to help each other out too. And they come from the same background of intense regrets and moving past that. Brothers in arms if you will. But yeah it's tricky how to word it, it feels natural to describe them that way, like, when Azuma says that it makes sense, but it's a little tricker than that and it's hard to explain without the full picture.

AND YEAH it's nice for the uni repartition. At least the bloodshed isn't spread there LMAO. AND HELPP. Chikage, assigned bunny immediately on first read. The curry alliance would be too strong if Izumi gets an ally. To follow.

CHIIIKAGEEEEE. "he's sooo normal he's totally faking it" is so funny, it's so true. Tbh i do feel like it's the thematic of Spring Adults like. Putting on a front so people Don't Ask Questions about you. Chikage just saw the patern and went :) sup :) god it's really so funny to me Chikage pretended he really liked the troupe only because he had tunel vision on Hisoka it's so much. his Coin CG looks sooooo good. and eheheh :) and YEAH CHIKAGE'S COMMENT ABOUT SAKUYA I FORGOT. No chill. BUT YEAH CITRON. THIS IS SO FUNNY. The chaos of Chikage saying batshit insane thing and Citron just nods in the back YOUR REACTION LMAO. the moment we all go "NOOO IZUMI YOU'RE SEEING IT WRONG"

oh boy so now. the Hisoka scene. God i was thinking about this scene so much the other day it still drives me insane. Maybe Hisoka would have guessed correctly yeah. And YEAH HOMARE JUST LIKE. "leave it to me, i know so much about you" is so soft. I wonder how Chikage might have felt like, man. This person really knows Hisoka uncomfortably well wtf. but yeah i love Hisoka's "ex-feral homecat behavior" who mellowed to everyone but will be warry of newcomers regardless and will just go into silence for it. all while Chikage is just. :))).

BUT YEAH CHIKAGE APPROACHING HIM. GOD THIS SCENE. I think that like, logically amnesia is easy to believe but emotionally, it must be very hard. Like, Chikage thought Hisoka was dead and facing that he's still alive while August isn't must have been a shock. Plus, personally i can't stop thinking about the fact that Chikage learnt he was alive from hearing about Mankai, Itaru probably passed fliers to Sympathy for the Angel in the office and Chikage probably just. fucking froze thinking he was seeing a ghost and was stalking them ever since. And then you think about Hisoka's roles in the plays and think about how Chikage might have interpreted them. Like, Hisoka's first role was one of an angel that was categoric about letting the person Tsumu's character loved die. He was all about keeping the balance on how if someone has to die, they have to die. The second play has Hisoka investigate a murder while being emotionally distant to it, and the third play has Hisoka play an immortal who, by definition, is surviving other people. and i think it's fair that, in grief, Chikage saw all of those as, oh, he's using his experience to mock what happened. I have more to say esp about MMMBM's play and the way Chikage might have reacted to it but. we'll come back to that later. But what i mean is that i think that, emotionally it was hard to process, Hisoka himself looked like he was handling himself fine, and hell, Hisoka loves his troupe and i think eventually it might have felt like it for Chikage too whichh could def feel like there's nothing wrong with Hisoka and he is really just, moving on.

BUT YEAH it's still. OOF. so mean esp since Hisoka JUST DOESNT KNOOWWW and he has been scared for so long about his past and Chikage basically came back and told him "you have good reasons to be scared of your past and now you'll suffer for it" is just. God. So fucked up. Chikage master at mishandling his grief.

Hisoka did talk about August and apologized when he was sick, clearly, survivor's guilt yes. god Hisoka is usually so distached from everything and nothing really affects him PERSONALLY, at best he worries for others people but everything else he manages to deal with on his own, but god. when Chikage starts to confront him he's so distressed and i feel so bad for him i want to hug him so bad.

me: loving liar characters and digging Chikage's deal from the start VS "if you're mean to Hisoka you will meet my sword" moment for the whole first chapter, so many emotions.

but YOU'RE SO RIGHT about the Inigo Montoya feels to that. And yeah, the flowers were def threats though, once you're done with Awakening Moon i'll share the meaning of them because it still drives me bonkers.

LMAO for yume nikki, the way things change our perspectives i swear. Hisoka's flashback god. it was so much. Sweet boy. Sweetheart. It's just. gnhhh. Everything about this part is so emotional and it's terrifying.

And yeah eheheh. Actually, if you get to see it, the chapter's icon for each of the troupe, in act 1 are colored fully with the troupe's collors: first spring is pink, first summer is yellow ect…. but, once you enter act 2 it's amazing how it's like. spring is pink with some blue. summer is yellow with some autumn. ect…. it's like, even graphicwise they tell you, the other troupe linked too closely to this rookie cannot be footnotes, they're also part of the main plot. and yeah that def sets up as Guy being also a Citron plot doesn't it :3c ehehe.

And yeah the kids. those kids. goodness. yeah. For the organisation i won' talk too much about it but yeah it's def not mafia/yakuza, to me it sounds also sounds like something international (see why Hisoka talks a perfect english) but, yeah. def sounds like a shady organization for sure who's exploiting children who have nowhere else to go. Which makes it pretty grim for Hisoka, but also for the implications for August and April since they were there even before Hisoka. Weep.

and guuhhh that exchange is just. god. holds hisoka in my arms. Hisoka's past being unveiled is so tragic like, you get why he forgot everything, it's ust so fucking miserable. Just suffering and surviving, all alone. AND THE GINGERBREAD YES. YES!!!! also how in the whole Christmas event, it was snowing outside and Hisoka kept zoning out looking at it. Just before the play, he was late backstage because he was completely captivated by the snow outside, and THEN Gingerbread on stage. I think the combo of the two triggered memories in Hisoka without him really registering it yet. It was a cold snowy night and he was offered gingerbread, and this was enough to connect the two. BUT YEAH it's funny they reeled him with a snack, it's really just. Wild kitty approach. And yeah Hisoka didn't change a bit, snacks are the way to his heart. But yes, exactly like you say. The fact it's because those sugarly snacks are delicacy, something he probably couldn't eat before when it was all for survival, so, he probably has those as comfort food on the literal sense of the term of how, it's the one thing that brought him salvation out of the street, it's the one thing that tastes like a home, so Hisoka indulges in sweet and sugar as much as he can. not just survival anymore. idk to me it recontextuatlize his marshmallow quirk from "manchild" to "this is literally the only thing he knows to consider as comfort". Esp considering early in Mankai he was refusing comforts like, a futon because he must be ready to sleep anywhere. It fits with the idea that he used to be homeless and probably had to get used to not be picky about where he fet to sleep. Marshmallows was the one thing he was always selfish about and now he's actually working on his comfort, but yeah, that really puts a lot in perspective on that regards. And yeah. a family…. they were a family. Whatever happened to August made Hisoka lose this family and now he has a new one though…

AND HELPP. I love Citron, he's so funny. god i love your reasoning on why Chikage is so good at everything. "of course this two faced bastard would know that". I LOVE how you can not trust anything that comes out of his mouth. Silly little liar man. Yuzo is so perspective, thank you my dude. And YEAH GOD THE INTERVIEW. So funny. Tsuzuru: can psychanalyse everyone in the company / Tsuzuru: oh no this guy lies so much i can't figure out what to do D:. AND HHELPPPPP being from the country that allows you to see through Chikage's bullshit, this is brilliant. He's really just out there, lying for fun.

And yeah man :( poor Hisoka i feel so much for him i want to hug him so bad. Chikage could have. like. actually communicated smh. but nooo. In Winter we trust.

Looking forward how hte Masumi's plot evolve and yeah it's nice Izumi finally has a curry ally. Might be sus as hell but he's also a curryhead so all crimes are forgiven. Oh Itaru. I guess it's also just that, Itaru learned to be himself with the Spring Troupe but now one of his coworker is there and it's a thin line on walking to like, reveal a side of himself he only revealed to those kids to one of the people he was the most likely to hide it from yaknow? Like suddenly feeling exposed and all. And i think that, like. The rest of the Spring Troupe knowing about his true self is fine as it is, even if Itaru didn't trust them, it's like. Who are they going to tell it to. But with Chikage, Itaru has to test first how much he can trust him and maybe be worried Chikage would talk about it at work. Might explain Itaru's uneasiness.

BUT ANYWAY. FIRST FIVE CHAPTERS. IT WAS A BLAST TO READ.

I'm totally okay receiving this everyday-ish, as u know, i'm a huge fan of reading your thoughts and of this specific chapter as it is, so i'll be thrilled. Can't wait to see more of your thoughts :3c

Take care eheheh

#ACT 2 TIME BABYYYYY #ichareply #aranarumei #ichafantalks a3 #long post for ts

[enavant]

1, 2, 10, 21 for the shipping prompt !

━━ ❥❥❥ SHIPPING QUESTIONS ━ accepting !!

1. what’s the best thing about shipping for you?

honestly i just really love creating deep n lasting dynamics whether it’s romantic, platonic, enemies, etc. it’s a big part of roleplay for me tbh n it drives me to keep writing n gives me inspiration when i have some kind of dynamic to build toward n kno where something may be heading !! even with pre established things its rly fun just building after that n i loooove exploring different types of relationships, how my muse responds to them or grows in them or in some cases gets worse lmao but it’s just a huge fun part for me to explore dynamics. as for romance specific, i just really do love to explore romantic types of dynamics it’s just interesting for me. the build up, the earning of trust, how they respond to each other, how it starts, how it might end or flourish !! i love every bit of it, really n i love thinking about just every detail of those dynamics n then writing different parts of it n building it up n i just love getting to talk to my writing partners about these things !! 

2. what’s the worst thing about shipping for you?

tbh starting out maybe; like the being too shy to ask step n i get afraid to ask if people might want to ship so i just...don’t in most cases;; n probably just in the cases people may drop our ship out of nowhere or not be as excited as i am i guess ?? i get very invested in dynamics since it’s just easier n more fun for me to write that way n i just put a special place in my heart n mind for every ship i have on my muses tbh !! so if people do wanna drop our ship or what we’re building i’d rather just be told n then move on since i kno things don’t work out sometimes n that’s absolutely fine but being left in limbo doesn’t feel the greatest;;

10. what do you think about poly ships? would you play any?

oh i LOVE poly ships i won’t lie. on this blog i am VERY weak for hyth/azem/hades n wol with hyth n hades as well. but ive had a lot of fun in the past doing poly ships with myself n  two others n developing that way was just !! so much fun honestly ?? it’s i think one of the best sorts of experiences n i love just getting to develop dynamics between three people like that. though i’ve also had poly ships between two people with the third being assumed as an npc as well. i just really do love poly ships !!

21. what’s something that immediately turns you off from shipping with someone?

hmmm i guess when people just collect u ?? it feels hollow n i’m not too big a fan of it tho i mostly just have trouble with that on my canon muses but i still don’t like it much;; i’ put a lot of thought into ships n try to always make it a different experience for each ship i have even if it’s duplicates but i don’t usually have a lot of duplicates i ship with at once since i like putting more energy into what i have rather than collecting because it just feels bad n i kno how it feels tbh n i just have no inclination to do that or want to be part of a collection where i drown into the background. also just people who ghost me a lot or don’t seem interested at all kind of turns me off a ship pretty fast ngl. i’m patient n i’ll always be here for u to come chat to me about ships but if its radio silence for a very long time n no interactions are being put forth or even just inbox stuff sent every once a while at least i just idk lose energy for it sometimes. real life comes first tho n i never mind that at all i’d rather people take care of themselves !! i personally have adhd n just forget messages a lot or answer them in my head n think i did...so i get it but honestly if we’re plotting or talking about a dynamic never be afraid to shout to me about it always i get SO excited !! 

#[ my brain is mush after dru prog so i hope i got the questions answer right lmao me n numbers dont get along well ] #[ but yeeee i love dynamics i love them sm !! ] #[ ty sm for send these in !! ty ty ] #━━ ❥ out of character »

[baekhvuns]

Omg does NFL really come up when you search football? Must be your location, in Europe I see the right type of football. My friend explained American football to me in return... it's so weird 😭

Lmao Mbappe, he found himself in a bit of a situation, whatever shall he do 🤔 Bellingham might go to Liverpool, but I know Madrid is eyeing him. But I'm sorry Zidane couching Brazil??? Mou too??? Let's relax

Portugal really lost so much this WC, oh well... better luck next time. That team was always very unstable, let's be honest it was on Ronaldo to make them win multiple times, not to belittle players like Pepe or earlier - Figo who saved their asses too, but it is what it is

Did you play cricket yourself? I had to play volleyball in school, almost every single P.E class for years I DETESTED IT and I fractured my wrist permanently because of it... I used to go to hockey games actually! I started playing mini golf in high school, there was a sports centre next to my school and we would go there, found out I was pretty decent at golf. But don't make me watch it

Pique definitely thinks he's THE SHIT, meanwhile he's become a pathetic villain 😬 but not in a cool way. Oh yeah the Mou Madrid, Pep Barca time was something else, toxic and I was definitely TOO invested in the rivalry lollll, but the matches, the spectacle 😭🤚🏻

Maybe the biting stays in the Suarez family 👁👁

This reply sususajshahsha man has the duality. Really?! 2023 will be wild for him then, good luck Salah 👋🏻 and shit, that kid's statistics already look better than some players' with 10 years of careers 😅

In London many people hang out in the same areas so it's really easy to come across someone more or less famous. You need to visit for a Y/N moment. Oooh who do you know 👀

I just realised the title is Hot & Cold, someone at SM said "you two need to end your beef besties, cause I ship you"

"One line" for Hwa 😭 hopefully not autotuned like in Paradigm. STFU ABOUT THE IT BOY BULLSHIT I'M TIRED

Sometimes when we look at attractive and nice people we think "how can they be single" but it's not that easy hahahah. Jackson needs to host more parties I guess

I remember Teezers playing basket on Fever Road and Hwa wasn't the best, got manhandled <3 BUT BAEK WHERE'S THAT SPORTY AU I NEED IT NOOOOOOW . But jfc, this is so vile, I'm not shocked, but poor guy. OLD? He was 16-18... the rest was probably 13 or some shit

Lil Exol Hwa now people have no money to see you sksgakahalsbakakak 😢🥺

And the cry fest continues

Do you randomly hear FIX ON when you're trying to sleep cause your neighbour Mingi down the street is going at it?

HOT AND DELUSIONAL...damn. I got Dino on the SVT one, I lost the description, but it was kinda accurate actually

Why can't we have more of these type of interactions they're so adorable

A vampire or an angel not sure...... - DV 💖

hi hello!!

Omg does NFL really come up when you search football? Must be your location, in Europe I see the right type of football. My friend explained American football to me in return... it's so weird 😭

yes it does! 😭😭😭 i think it is a location thing too dbwmbdsk NO BC IT IS SO WEIRD IT IS AND SO CONFUSING i only watch it for the halftime, and now miss rihanna is doing the halftime 🤲🏻 cannot wait,, i hope she does it for the next wc too

Lmao Mbappe, he found himself in a bit of a situation, whatever shall he do 🤔 Bellingham might go to Liverpool, but I know Madrid is eyeing him. But I'm sorry Zidane couching Brazil??? Mou too??? Let's relax

im afraid he will chose money in the end 🤩🤩 i rly do not wanna see him at rm it’ll tbh ruin it for me fbdbdb i THINK ITS CONFIRMED HES DOING MADRID, if haaland goes there too it’ll be unstoppable! DNJDJD zidane, mourinho, ancelotti AND guardiola too now! r9’s backing zidane up for the role,, but ancelotti would fit right in,,, whatever it’ll be it’s gonna be crazy

Portugal really lost so much this WC, oh well... better luck next time. That team was always very unstable, let's be honest it was on Ronaldo to make them win multiple times, not to belittle players like Pepe or earlier - Figo who saved their asses too, but it is what it is

no yeah! shocking but i guess some what for the good, hopefully next year for sure! if not 1st then top3 at max!! YEAHHH even watching their matches it was really just ronaldo trying to score or the team trying to MAKE ronaldo score instead of creating passes or goals,,, u can tell it annoyed him too bc he works well in a team,,, maybe some new players were intimidated but damn what a way to end it

Did you play cricket yourself? I had to play volleyball in school, almost every single P.E class for years I DETESTED IT and I fractured my wrist permanently because of it... I used to go to hockey games actually! I started playing mini golf in high school, there was a sports centre next to my school and we would go there, found out I was pretty decent at golf. But don't make me watch it

i did sometimes! tho it was only deemed as a sport guys played so id just be the one catching the balls 😭😭,, my sibling who was going to do the cricket as his future and practiced to join the under 19 trainings teams however he quit 🧍🏻‍♀️ also bc he got injured by the insanely heavy hard ball dbdbd,,,, NOOO????? MISS MAAM WHAT TYPE OF VOLLEY U PLAYING???? HITTING IT THAT HARD?? the most one gets is the red arm or a muscle pull BUT A BROKEN WRIST???? MAAM.

Pique definitely thinks he's THE SHIT, meanwhile he's become a pathetic villain 😬 but not in a cool way. Oh yeah the Mou Madrid, Pep Barca time was something else, toxic and I was definitely TOO invested in the rivalry lollll, but the matches, the spectacle 😭🤚🏻 //// Maybe the biting stays in the Suarez family 👁👁

he thinks he’s the shift after be bagged shakira BRO ITS NOT GONNA CHANGE U AS A PERSOND DBDB it just made him worse 😭😭😭😭 absolutely!!!! u could like smell the toxicity in the air, the tension AAAHH THE RIVALRY WHAT TIME IT WAS DJDJDJ no bc i was too, butthurt whenever madrid scored dbdb <33 it better stay in the family 😭😭😭 next thing u know it’s passed out to other players

This reply sususajshahsha man has the duality. Really?! 2023 will be wild for him then, good luck Salah 👋🏻 and shit, that kid's statistics already look better than some players' with 10 years of careers 😅

LMFAOOOO GTFOOO DBDBDBDBDB its so funny every year but also so sad 😭😭😭 memes are the best part,,, good luck to him indeed i wonder if he’ll disable his comment section fbfbfb,,, NO LITERALLY??? how’s that EVEN possible,,,, damnnn bro will play in the generation if cr jr. 🫡

but i wanted to ask how was ur and ur londoner friends reaction to kane’s penalty dhdh

In London many people hang out in the same areas so it's really easy to come across someone more or less famous. You need to visit for a Y/N moment. Oooh who do you know 👀

I AM ON MY WAY RIGHT NOW,,,, there’s a cricketer who was in the prime/peak cricket team era that went rly popular who are family friends! tho his mom’s 🔫🔫🔫 too arrogant about her son being at that level dbdb another is a singer (??) more producer who’s songs are very, very well known in & not a wedding goes by that don’t have his songs playing + was a recent discovery actually, who’s in the family and lives in london! and the other is actually thru my cousins who live in london, they know bellingham tho not personally but thru groups! tho if u come here u will spot ryan reynolds outside universities doing either deadpool filming or god knows what and some netflix or disney show filming! IF U WATCHED RIVERDALE that shitty show was filmed down the street <3 trash <3

I just realised the title is Hot & Cold, someone at SM said "you two need to end your beef besties, cause I ship you"

HFKWHDKWHDKWKCJC NO BC THATS WHAT IT SEEMS LIKE TOO seulkai what a duo,, the song was great too! broke me out of my hibernation and have begun to write yunho’s fic 🔫

"One line" for Hwa 😭 hopefully not autotuned like in Paradigm. STFU ABOUT THE IT BOY BULLSHIT I'M TIRED /// Sometimes when we look at attractive and nice people we think "how can they be single" but it's not that easy hahahah. Jackson needs to host more parties I guess

LMFAOOOO 😭😭😭😭 HOPEFULLY NO AUTOTUNE OR MIC DIFFICULTIES I NEED TO HEAR HIM 😭😭😭 juyeon + hwa collab better be seen on that stage !!!! NO SRS atp there is no term it boy, fans have destroyed the meaning behind it,,, he needs to host more parties to finally find his y/n 😭😭

I remember Teezers playing basket on Fever Road and Hwa wasn't the best, got manhandled <3 BUT BAEK WHERE'S THAT SPORTY AU I NEED IT NOOOOOOW . But jfc, this is so vile, I'm not shocked, but poor guy. OLD? He was 16-18... the rest was probably 13 or some shit

do u think he lets them man handle him bc he doesn’t want to unleash his side 🔫 that one show where they all were taught by kids,,, his INTRO WAS CUT I COULDNT EVEN SEE IF HE COULD KICK PROPERLY OR IF HE WAS JOKES,,, BESTIE ITS BEEN ON MY MIND THAT TRACK AU 😭😭😭no bc what a way to pull his spirit down bUT him now must he a kick in the face for those who rejected him

Lil Exol Hwa now people have no money to see you sksgakahalsbakakak 😢🥺 /// And the cry fest continues /// Do you randomly hear FIX ON when you're trying to sleep cause your neighbour Mingi down the street is going at it?

IM, IVE HAD ENOUGH OF HIM I NEED HIM TO INTERACT WITH EXO LIVE 😭😭😭 exo concert coming and u know half of them will be there ✊🏻

yeah! i hear him spit bars too it’s crazy ill record it next time!

HOT AND DELUSIONAL...damn. I got Dino on the SVT one, I lost the description, but it was kinda accurate actually

THE BEST COMBO DBDBDBDB 😭😭😭 i got scoups! here’s another and u better pick god save the queen 🔫

Why can't we have more of these type of interactions they're so adorable /// A vampire or an angel not sure...... - DV 💖

they really are 😭😭 need a chaotic year end stage for 4th gen where they all just go crazy and have interactions to piss off the kr fans,,,, A FALLEN ANGEL 🤚🏻🤚🏻

anon HFKWHDKQHDWK WHY DOES IT LOOK LIKE HES ACTUALLY SINGING IT TOO FBFB

down bad. SILVER HAIR BACK !!!!!

😭😭???

😀😀🧍🏻‍♀️ what is going on ??

#✉️ : ask #dv 💖 anon

[blackbird-brewster]

ahh! i will be sitting and waiting very patiently for this smut. i’m so excited. i love literally every single word u write but like.. especially jara. (i’m a bit biased, but…) AND YES, i adore long chapters- i make a whole night out of it. comfy in bed, candles, phone on dnd.. everything!

there is somethign that feels deeply homophobic to have such little smut of 2 incredibly hot women… like okay world i see your spirt. like how can i repay u for filling the drought of no smut!

it’s funny bc jara will never go anywhere but idk i see them standing a few feet from eachother and i’m like “🤭🤭😘😘 they’re gonna kiss next” idk🤭

and omfg yes. that is a perfect tag. u saying that made me rly happy actually. i love messaging u! sometimes i just have hard days and it’s nice to talk to someone who i know enjoys the same things i do!!! the alliteration is great and creative in a way i envy bc my brain can never seem to create anything new or original! 10/10

Anon, you're my fave! This is such nice inspiration to continue fuelling the Jara tag with ficccccc. Like??? They're just very sexy and hot together and I love them in all the ways. I love them being fluffy and in love. I love them being angsty. BUT GOD.....the smut??? Next level. God-tier. Their entire dynamic together is just?!?!??!?! I guess that's what happens when two Tops start sleeping together.

Literally me too. We haven't had a lot of JJ/Tara scenes in Evolution (homophobic!) but like every time they are on screen together in an episode I'm just doing this:

There are SO many times they look at each other in the GAYEST fucking ways in the original series. I need to make a list of scenes to cap so I can have a master post of them making heart-eyes at each other. They're IN LOVE!!!!!!!

I enjoy talking to you too!! My ask box is always open! Even if you're just having a hard time and need to chat about it. You can talk to me about anything, Anon friend. I'm here for you!

Thanks for your ongoing Jara hype. Honestly, you have fuelled me to write so much of this chapter today!!!! Hopefully I can finish it up and get it posted in the next couple of days. I stfg this fic will still have MORE after this??? I dunno every time I think it's coming to the end, my brain is like NO. WE WANT MORE JARA. What am I gonna do?? I have no choice but to write!!! >:)

#tara lewis #jennifer jareau #jara #the jara jamboree #reply post #criminal minds

[thecontumacious]

Hey there! I saw your fnaf hcs and I just finish watching vox stream fnaf so can I request a part 2 to the hcs where their first date is another streaming of fnaf? I’m looking forward to it, thanks a bunch!

Nothing More Romantic

Pairing: Vox Akuma x Streamer!GN!Reader (part 2)

Cheeky Little Things | Vox Akuma x Streamer!GN!Reader (part 1)

a/n: i'm glad you both loved that and i'm more ecstatic to know you guys are interested in a part 2~ the hc's might not be exactly how you wanted anons, and i sincerely apologize if it's not up to your expectations (T⌓T) hopefully you'll enjoy what i've come up with regardless!

vox akuma 🟢 : hey y/n

y/n l/n 🟢 : yes vox?

vox akuma 🟢 : what would you do if i were there to meet you irl?

y/n l/n 🟢 : tbh idk i guess i’d just hang out with you?

vox akuma 🟢 : okay good now open your door

y/n l/n 🟢 : VOX WHAT THE FUCK STOP KIDDING AROUND

vox akuma 🟢 : okay fine.

you cock your eyebrow at the alarming message, wondering what vox was up to this time before hearing a horrific knocking on the bedroom door, as you lived alone.

“y/n?”

was that--

“VOX WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK”

“you said not to kid around so i let myself in! keys are nothing in the face of a demon, you know," and even from behind a door, you can hear the mischief in his voice

“fuck you! you know that’s not what i meant!! wait outside!”

vox chuckles from the other side of the door, crossing his arms as he hears you shuffle around inside doing who knows what

“are you hiding what i shouldn’t see here in there, dear?”

“n-NO IM NOT”

vox lets out a laugh, “of course you aren’t.”

“shut up vox!” you retort

after a while, the door finally cracks open and there you were, shyly hiding behind the door in your pajamas

vox paused

and absolutely lost it upon seeing you in this unprepared state

YOU’RE TOO CUTE٩(๑ `н´๑)۶

but the demon keeps his composure as best he can and said, “hello love, mind if i come in?”

“i kinda do, yeah,” you smile at him bitterly(╬≖_≖). “could you have not warned me at least????”

“surprises are always fun, aren’t they?”

“oh, are they? i, in fact, dislike them when they specifically come from you,” you glare him down.

“alright, sorry. is that what you wanted me to say, darling?”

“sorry won’t cut it!”

that’s when you suddenly feel the door being opened against your will and you are suddenly thrown against it, pressed up by vox who towers over you with ease

“what else do you want me to do to make it up you, hm?” he leans down and whispers into your ear, “you indeed have many demands for me.”

“v-vox--“ you want to say so many things but you’re too flustered to do anything, too caught up by the fact vox akuma was in your room

“speak up, my dear,” the said demon smirks.

but you can only stare up at him, words completely lost. you never rly got to see him so up close like this, in person…

he was absolutely beautiful

vox pulls away just a bit and he notices you staring at him, words unspoken

so what he does is boop your nose to catch you off guard.

v(・∀・*)

what a bully >:(

broken out of your daze, you see him snickering delightfully. you blush hard and push him off of you.

“f-fuck off… “ you curse as steam leaves your ears

“was i too much?” vox follows you and offers you a slightly sympathetic smile

you roll your eyes and choose not to answer, definitely not to feed his ego

you leave your bedroom and into the kitchen, grabbing a glass before turning to vox again who had tailed you here

“do you want anything? tea maybe?”

“it’s alright, i don’t want to bother you.”

“oh don’t be so polite now, voxie,” you roll your eyes. the demon chuckles.

“i won’t be long, so no need for the hassle.”

you sigh, “fine.”

“so what brings you here, voxie? surely not just to bully me?”

vox pouts, “don’t look at it like that, y/n. i only did it because you look so cute.”

“humor me, won’t you?”

“so i shall,” he says. “i just wanted to see you is all.”

you pause and then look at him properly

“that's all? you sure?”

vox chuckles, “no not rly. one more thing.”

the demon stands up, then approaching you.

“i wanted to talk about earlier today. what happened right post stream”

oh

continuation utc!

you take a deep breath and indicate him to continue, “what about it?”

“i want to clarify something,” vox begins, fixing his gaze on you. “how do you truly feel about me? about... us?”

you lean back as you feel your heart thrumming against your rib cage

how you felt about him huh?

“you make me smile, vox. i feel safe around you so i tend to be myself more. and whenever you leave, i miss being with you. i... would like to know about the prospects of 'us' too,” god, was that too much? your face reddens so you look away, terribly embarrassed and flustered because obviously, this was the one true time you’ve ever relaid your real feelings for this demon

it didn't help the fact this was your first real life meeting with him too

fingers make their way to your jaw that makes you look up, making you stare straight into vox’s glowing yellow eyes

his gaze is gentle and though your heart is still erratic, you don’t panic when he holds you

“there’s no need to be embarrassed, y/n,” he whispers, smiling. “because i feel the same way. if not, more. do you feel this?”

vox reaches for your hand and places it on his chest, so you feel the rapid beating of his heart

“this is your doing. this heart belongs to you now.”

god, why was he so good with his words...?

vox lets go of your hand, “but i don’t want to rush you. i’m here to know what your feelings are. i’m not here to pressure an answer.”

you ache for the warmth of his hand again, but you held yourself back for both of your sakes

“i understand,” you nod. “i’ll think this through, okay?”

vox smiles. “alright. i have to go now, i’ll see you soon.”

“and i you, voxie.” you watch him leave the kitchen and when you exit the room yourself, he’s already gone back home.

you return to your bedroom and take a while staring at your pc, before deciding to respond to vox's earlier question

y/n l/n 🟢 : hey vox?

vox akuma 🟢 : hm?

y/n l/n 🟢 : can we try us?

vox, for an entire minute, doesn't know what to say.

there it was. the answer he'd been waiting for.

this time around, he'd finally be able to call you his and him yours

he'll take it slow for you, he pledged to himself. he was willing to wait for you after all.

y/n l/n 🟢 : up for another fnaf date?

"hi milord, hi y/n!!"

"hello, kindred, it's good to be back here," you smile, turning to vox on screen

he laughs, "it sure is always lovely when you're around."

"you flatter me too much, vox."

vox savors in your precious laugh, still in disbelief how you're officially his now.

"oi, voxie. disconnected, have we?"

oops

"got lost staring into your eyes is all, my love~"

"guys it's an actual date now"

"why of course it's a date now! isn't that right, y/n?" vox teases, curious of your response

"it is what it is, huh, chat?"

you and vox watch as the chat begins to flood with amused viewers, both made of your fans and vox's

to them, it will continue to remain vague. but for you and vox, you two are hoping for more to come

whether that be fnaf dates, silly discord banter or surprise visits, you were ready to embrace it all

"nothing more romantic than shit talking animatronics together, am i right?" you smile, and the chat begins to get more agitated at your quote

vox replies, "indeed nothing more romantic. alright, kindred. fnaf sister location, custom night! let's see who gets to be the heart stricken poultry this time, huh, y/n?"

"my bets are on you, voxie."

"let's see about that." 🐓

bonus scene:

knock knock

you turn to your door and get up to slowly open it, only to find the stench of light alcohol in the air

you are not surprised when you recognize the long black and red hair and bright yellow eyes behind the door

“vox? what are you—“

“hii y/n,” vox giggles, burping lightly afterwards

“you’ve been drinking!” you hiss, opening the door completely only to have vox lurch forward into your body, wrapping his arms around you

“yeah. i did a bit of beer tasting on stream today,” vox says into your hair. “then i wanted to see your pretty face.”

hoo boy

“vox, go home and get some rest…” you try your best to push him off of you but vox only holds you tighter against him, whining

“nooo i wanna be here… i wanted to see you after all. i didn’t come this far just to go back home so soon,” he slurs, rubbing a spot on your back in hopes he might persuade you into letting him stay a little while longer

you were selfish deep inside. you did want him to stay. but now wasn’t a good time. definitely not when he was drunk like this or especially when he has important things to do tomorrow

you pull away but stayed in vox’s hold to take a good look at him

you brush away the hair from his face and caressed his cheek, and this makes vox leans into your touch more

“you know you can’t stay here, vox. you need some rest,” you gently whisper

vox frowns, “just a little longer and then i’ll go…” 🥺🥺

“vox,” your tone is a lot more commanding this time and then the demon sighs, letting go of you

“fine, only because you asked.”

“thank you,” you stand on your toes and press a kiss to vox’s cheek

he freezes upon the touch and he looks at you as though you’ve grown an extra head

you giggle

“go home, okay?”

“give me one more kiss please,” vox pouts, visibly enticed

“after you’ve sobered up, maybe,” you start pushing vox out of your room, despite his whines and protests

once you get to the door, vox gives you a defeated look to insight some pity. but you don't humor him

“no, voxie. now go home and go to bed,” you giggle, shutting the door.

“i’m counting on that sober kiss, love!” you hear vox announce from the other side and then silence, probably already on his way back home with however his demonic powers worked

guess you should prepare yourself for a kiss soon

*you on a stream*

“oh? vox’s here! hi voxie! what’s up, buddy?”

Vox Akuma [NIJISANJI EN]🔧 : y/n, my love, where’s my kiss

“wh-what kiss? vox are you still drunk?”

Vox Akuma [NIJISANJI EN] 🔧 : no and now i want my sober kiss, you promised

clippers: vox asking y/n for a kiss??????!!!!

ଘ(✿˵•́ ᴗ •̀˵)

Masterlist!

#luxiem #luxiem x reader #kinfiction #vox akuma #nijisanji #nijisanji en #nijisanjien #vox x reader #vox akuma x reader #author chan’s delivery service ?

[mirrorforevers]

here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

-

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

-

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

-

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

-

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

-

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

-

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

-

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

-

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.

#graham coxon #alex james #damon albarn #dave rowntree #blur #britpop #smut #imagine #reader insert #graham coxon x reader #graham x reader #y/n #fluff #au #fanfiction #blur band

[with-the-same-tattoos]

What are some things you noticed about Grima that you like in particular? Sincerely, someone who also desperately wants to talk about Grima.

GBLESSGBLESSGBLESS u r a blessed being........... ok im gonna ramble for a bit im gonna add some gifs n pics to not make this a complete slob of text bc. Yeah.

I'm gonna clarify that I am talking about Brad Dourifs Grima- I'm not far at all w the books, my opinion may change via them? But i think mr Dourif did a wonderful depiction of him, and I'm. Simply in love.

Starting off w the appearence bcs its defi the easiest to explain....

I do see the bummer notions about ppl calling him ugly and I.... yk, I don't like it, I know my taste in features is kinda off the beaten path, but it still rly bums me out imo hes incredibly beautiful? I loooove the toning of his face- the deadly grey pale is so full of small hints of different tones, the yellowing rot, the reddened flush around his eyes, the blue hues it attracts...... he is like a chameleon.... its v nice... also i like how his skin rests on his face: he is a bit more aged so it isn't as tight anymore, and gives the lovely angles of his chin and jaws even more weight.... i looove his big wet expressionful eyes and i loove his hair its GORGEOUS wet like a fish, he could be a mythical beast from the swamp come to listen to singing. He is SO beautiful. gOD. Also i love his awkward lil posture and expressions.

More on what I like abt his personality tho....

I loved mr Dourifs quote about him being someone who had been bullied & felt lonely, and just wanted to be wanted. I just rbd that one post abt guys who are awkward and resentful/entitled towards women, and tbh Grima feels like one of those- expect i feel like he might not have felt entitled pre-saruman stuff. Ill explain uhh lets see.

This is my reading of him as a character taken from a few hints. It's probably complete shit. Im not good at analysis.

I think a fun thing abt Grima is how emotionally open he is. He is very expressionate, very honest, very bad at hiding his true intentions. Talking about Theodens son- he sounds completely dismissive, as if moving from a subject he doesn't care about, just to break the ice, despite the situation being incredibly grave (lack of empathy), looking at Eowyn (i mean, the bro could have punched him on the spot why would he admit his feelings so openly) and he straight up has a scheming face.... he is a very emotive man for someone who's supposed 2 be slithery and secret-ful, i don't think he is. I actually think it'd be fun if he'd been picked by Theoden for the work of advisor pre-lotr events bc he was so shit at lying and was probs a lot nicer then. Probably very good at noticing little things, he seems fairly anxious (even tho he's bad at hiding his... vibe, hes constantly still planning?) He could tbh be a very good advisor who thinks things through.

I think this heart on your sleeve personality could have been one of the reasons why he felt so outcasted- a lot of people like that, me included, who are very openly emotional and easy to read, are made fun for it bc it is a lot to some?

Aside from people , i guess, making fun of his appearence, which sucks.

The lotr plays with a lot of themes of corruption. There isn't some inherent evil, evil is made n all that. For Grima I see that corrupting push as Saruman etc. He had these bad things inside him, insecurity, hatered, want, but i like to think that because he was originally surrounded by fairly good people, he didn't listen to that side of himself. He could have been in a better enviroment defi, where those feelings could have been mended and worked through, but the corruption spread to him through Saruman, making those selfish, cruel thoughts bubble to the surface, making them overtake him. Not completely, because oh. My. Fucking. God. Look at this shit.

That is not the face of victory, certainty, that is the face of devastation & desperation. HE LOOKS SO FUCKING SAD YO?

"Oh, but you are alone. Who knows what you have spoken to the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night, when all your life seems to shrink, the walls of your bower closing in about you, a hutch to trammel some wild thing in?"

And when your life seems to shrink, the walls of your bower closing in about you, are these not the words of a man who lays awake at night, feeling hot and cold, tight chested, questioning everything, flipping between emotions all of which hurt so bad? Im sorry but LOOK AT HIM HES SO FUCKING SAD STFU HES SO UNSURE OF HIMSELF. He has really bad thoughts and feelings and he has been feeling vindicated for them because someone, the corruption, is finally validating those feelings, but it breaks when he looks in the eyes of the one he loves and ....

I also see it in him after Saruman slaps him. (First of all- that yelp? Screaming.....) since I kinda see him as having gained some kinda validation/comfort from Saruman, even confidence, the expression he makes when he looks back at Saruman is like. So devastating. I like 2 think it was him full of anger after the one person who had made him feel validated/wanted, betrayed him. Would explain also why his flip was so so fast.

I also defi just have this desperation to feel needed & desired, bad mindset born from growing up as the ugly & undesirable person- any kind of show of attraction feels like flattery to me, because im just. Not used to it, I will take anything I get. The way Grima thinks of Eowyn is incredibly unhealthy, but god the way he looks at her? I would just. Do anything if I could have someone look at me like that once in my life. Spin some poetry about how pretty I am. This is like mad unhealthy & im aware of it, but I can't get over it ; . ; his desire is so beautiful to me, esp bc he is so beautiful & so interesting & so.... studyable.... idk how else to explain this.....

Also his hands? So gucci. Wanna hold them.

Anyways this has been page 1 of my 700 page essay, next I will be discussing-

#i wanna get wrecked by him so bad its embarrassing #ask #anonymous

[acidgems]

◜     *     :     charlie     rowe     .     cis     male     &     he/him     .     trojan     horse     by     sebastian     paul     .     ━━     the     legend     surrounding     london’s     l’academiae     furorum     would     not     be     complete     without     JASPER     WILDER     .     the     academy's     TWENTY     FOUR     year     old     TECH     SUPPORT     has     been     with     furore     for     two     years     ,     oft     described     as     RAMBUNCTIOUS     ,     JADED     ,     CHAOTIC     ,     CHEEKY     &     has     proved     utterly     indispensable     to     the     company.     in     passing     ,     they’ve     come     to     be     associated     with     THE     SCENT     OF     SIPHON     GASOLINE     DRIPPING     FROM     A     SPLIT     LIPPED     SMILE     &     driving     splinters     out     of     mud-splattered     palms,     fresh     bolognese     sauce     stains     on     fraying     denim     cuffs     ,     icing     bruising     skin     against     the     condensation     on     bus     windows,     chalk     graffiti     imitating     the     once     grandeur     of     banksy     ,     numb     teeth     from     super     sonic     headphone     use     .     whether     this     will     be     their     final     curtain     call     is     anyone's     guess     &     the     company’s     worst     nightmare     .

HELO SEXY CITIZENS! it is i pand (28) emerged from my self imposed exile a fresh n happy new gal 🤪🤪 i’ve not done groups or shite in like years so... teefy grins cowabunga boys let’s do this ! i lov an unnecessary elipsis and exclamation marks is like me family... thts all u rly need to know abt me i’m quite easy going :B

history

back from my salmon :) (if u keep reading thisll all mke sense hoo hoo hee) ok where were we ah yes his Histoire ok cracks knucky knucks. 

grew up in yorkshire then moved to south london *top boy theme song* when their no good papa deserted them bcs he’s also a big fuckup who has no sense of commitment or attachment to his family. so jasper, ignoring all facts that his dad will not return bcs he’s an idiot, “temporarily” helps his single overworked mum out by working as a techie whilst secretly moonlighting as a low level car thief in the grimey underworld of london. gone in sixty seconds ws his fave movie as a kid n will probs be the death of him bt my god... can he do a good nicholas cage impression.

jasper is one half of jasper and scout his eVIL TWIN! just kidding she’s nai’s blessed creation so i cnt rly go off bat here but their family puts the fun in dysFUNctional. luca is the oldest sibling who’s currently in jail for gbh but jasper will go to his grave defending him n the entire situation if u bring it up after a few pints... his big brother is his Mona Lisa of ppl like he’s just bow down n hero worship the badassery bt rly he’s just idolising a selfish scumbag who offers nothing to society n so remains locked away causing a ruckus behind bars. obv jasper does NT see this... a common theme with my Boy is... he sees what he wants... n wears horse blinders for the rest. then bethan is the next in line n she has a bunch of kids with a deadbeat who jasper always threatens to throw off a motorway bt he never does. loves a good word... bt does he back it up? nah, not his style Baby! He’s a violent poet! a romantic maniac! but not a realist dnt come at him with tht shite or he’ll get bored n go steal a car to entertain himself. THEN WE HAVE SCOUT -- a dandelion w legs and arms, all angry spirit and dungarees and they have a love/hate relationship ie jasper loves her bt she hates a lot of wt he does n thinks he’s just a stinky boy w no hope or manners n tbh? Tea.

so thts the siblings his mum is a single mum n they get along great she doesn’t see the shitty side of jasper n there is a mile of it so idk how bt they love making homemade spaghetti bolognese frm his gran’s tattered recipe together n singing in the kitchen and jasper probs does lil jazz numbers for her bcs frankly he adores her n thinks she’s a strong brilliant woman which she is... n he adores all his family actually jasper is a fiercely loyal bloke n will throw fists to reinforce tht... n also to feel like a powerful Alpha male bcs he’s a lil problematical that way :/. 

relationship n romance wise........ bites fist.........here we go. ok so he had a longterm girlfriend. (longterm to jasper is measured in weeks). bt he cheated on her many times n one noteable time ws a threesome including her best friend n her sister. it’s number one on his long list of sins that will lead him to hell. u might ask... my god... why would they do that... well... jasper defies logic my friends. he actually defines tht whole palav as an iconic memory bt scout once heard him gloating abt it n smacked him so hard on the back of the head he felt concussed

so yah jasper has been working as a tech support for a couple years but doesn’t rly take his job seriously he likes the close proximity to all the dancers bcs he’s a whore w an appetite fr debauchery n also perhaps likes his job bcs he has hidden tap dancing talents n hopes to dip his toe in the world of dance perhaps. or does he. tune in next time fr the big reveal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

personality

frankly owning the dance floor viciously squat dancing when requested throat goat kim petras blasts frm the club speakers probs wearing a pair of vintage glasses shaped like glittery stars which he raises up n down to wink at ppl he thinks r impressed.... bt why wouldn’t u be... THE BOY IS TALENTED AND HAS FANTASTIC LEGS !

loving his mum the absolute light of his life (as well as his cynic of a twin scout bt like... he’s considerably less vocal abt tht bcs she’s mostly horrified by him and his selfish playboy lifestyle 98.76% the time). this ofc doesn’t deter frm the fact tht he’s only but a few please and thankyou’s away from pure hooliganism... and should carry a warning sign like a tag around his neck. shaun of the dead mum: He’s a bit... bitey   

on one hand rite.........jasper is a cesspit of toxic masculinity bt tbh he also doesn’t rly care abt all that noise.... depends on his mood u see he’s ever fluctuating. loves a mimosa with silly straws n cocktail umbrellas bt also counts the notches on his bedpost w a sense of pride only known to a rowdy adolescent male. locker room talk? bang on. a real Out with The bOys kinda bloke... but maybe less insufferable who knows u decide

i have to go cook some salmon so thts it tbh... thanks fr reading

#furore.intro #beams to u all in turn

[i8jisoo]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 ⇉ skz with pregnant!reader 

hyunjin x reader | part four of dad!skz

↬ genre; fluff

↬ warnings; pregnancy, lots of cursing (i have a streak), birth, n kkami bein a meanie

↬ notes; ok this might be my fav in the series | 1.5k wc

u and hyunjin actually were broken up when u found out about the pregnancy

u waited (stalled fuck off) until five months since u really didnt know what to do with the news

u kinda feel like ur insane, playing your ex-boyfriends music constantly and watching interviews of him but it kept u company and gave u a reminder that u still needed to tell him

u got this rly cute popped out bump, just rly kinda like those movies but u know its gonna get bigger and grow to have stretch marks

one day ur just sitting on the sofa of your apartment n the next thing u know ur door is being opened and hyunjin is barging in

ofc ur in a sports bras and a pair of basketball shorts cause they r comfortable and shirts r overrated

ur there with set out marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate, as well as peppermint sticks on the side just eating them together

ur in the middle of eating a smore u had put together

u swallow ur smore slowly, sucking on ur fingertips n just staring at him

“oh my fucking god- and it’s true?” 

ur honestly so confused until u remember u dont have on a shirt n ur bump is showing

ur standing up in a millisecond, hyunjin getting more upset by the second just looking at u

“why— how? how could you just not tell me?”

baby boy has those angry tears and the strained voice hes just so upset and the guilt is setting in for u

“i’m five and a half months.” 

fuck hormones cause next thing u know ur crying and u cant do anything to make it stop

u guys really can’t be mad at each-other, ur relationship was filled with nothing but kindness and it ended only because u two felt it was going no where

ofc u two argued about it and in the end hyunjin was the one who walked out

“we can try again. you can move back in right? we can stay together and put back the pieces.”

u agreed n by the next morning he was there to help u pack ur things up n take them back to his place

he ends up seeing the box of baby stuff, with unopened bottle packages and sonograms, as well as a disc that was labelled as your 3D ultrasound

u find him just sitting there, staring at the black and white sonogram with tears freely falling down his cheeks

he doesn't even notice u next to him until ur thumb swipes the tear away from his cheek

u two just smile at each-other, his arm wrapping around u n pulling u in to his side

“that’s our baby?” he asks, not removing his eyes from the little white blob that barely was the size of a jaw breaker n u just whispered, “yea, it is.”

ur relationship doesn’t exactly get back into what it was at first,,

ur both nervous and cautious around each other

at first he insists he can just sleep on the couch so u can take his bed but u insist u both can sleep together

hyunjin doesn’t mean to but he somehow always winds up with his arm around u n ur bump every morning

he will talk to the bump n tell them how they r gonna have the best mommy n daddy 🥺

“did u know ur mommy is one of my favorite people to be with? i know ur gonna hear the story one day of how we became parents but i have always loved her, even when we weren’t together i loved your mommy. i hope one day you will love someone as much as i love your mommy, i hope you get your mommy’s personality bub.”

ur fake sleeping wbk but u dont move so u can let him talk

around eight months u two are way more comfortable n are getting closer

he lets u borrow his clothes because u used to do that even when u weren’t pregnant and he figured they were more comfortable & better looking than ur maternity outfits 😣

he rly goes the whole nine yards, buying anything u can think of for the baby n he’ll sometimes wake u up from ur sleep (if he’s rly excited) just so he can show u what he bought

hyunjin is in love with u and kkami cuddling together

also when ur due date got closer u both def went out for walks with kkami or played in the dog park with kkami

(u couldn’t really be as active as hyunjin but it was fine with u just watching)

something within hyunjin changes n he just gets so shy n flustered around u ^.^

he’s crushing so hard on u and u can guess he is but then again u two were just living together for the pregnancy

it’s probably three in the morning n hyunjin had just came home

ofc u were crying

a rly cute dog ad was playing with a baby in it as well :(

u explain n hiccup while doing so

hes so s o f t at this moment

he presses a soft kiss to ur lips n ur like wow thats um—

he doesn’t even care how shocked u r this man goes back in for more kisses

“i want you, i wanna be a real family. i wanna one day marry you, have more babies or get other dogs, that’s all i’ve ever wanted since the day we met.”

enywayz u two r dating,, a g a i n

spooning half of the time during ur last few weeks of pregnancy, but the boys come over frequently n for some reason jeongin is always bringing presents?? its cute but u guys RLY didn’t need anymore toys for the baby

u guys r just cuddling n he’s got one hand on ur bump before ur like

“ow,, fuck that hurt.”

“hey don’t swear around the baby!”

u just suppose it’s a hard kick since the baby had been active a lot recently n the pains had been occurring often

kkami is very cuddly today n he’s giving u kisses

hyunjin lowkey jealous cause kkami doesn’t ever give him kisses like that  ⸜( ⌓̈ )⸝

yall ever seen the thing where dogs know pregnant people the best n they can like SENSE something goin on??

well kkami was on it 

baby kkami is sniffing u n just restless in ur lap n its a lil weird cause kkami is ALWAYS sleeping or sitting still cause kkami has turned as lazy as u n hyunjin

u have this feeling but instead u just tell hyunjin u gotta pee :P

newsflash: u didnt n as soon as u got up, boom, theres ur water breaking and running down ur leg

“it feels gross.”

ur literally whining about ur pants while a baby is coming out of ur ... hooha 😳 n hyunjin is freaking out

he’s rushing around the rooms n making sure everything is in the bag and nothing gets left behind

last thing on his mind is changing ur clothes

though he does, putting u in his baggy sweatshirt and a pair of his shorts

hes freaking out lets be honest the thought of u giving birth is fuckin scary

hyunjin is so out of it and spaced out while ur cool n talking normally with pauses everytime theres a contraction

“aish, why are you so worried? i’m the one that should be worried!!”

ur not cool after an u hit the four hours in labor mark

u do not want to be t o u c h e d

touching u is off limits ur so sweaty n ur body feels like its crumbling u cannot deal with someone holding ur hand or holding u

hyunjin just sits there

hes kinda in a different realm while he stares at the clock on the wall

hes so ready to meet the baby but apparently ur body was exactly 4 centimetres not ready :(

hes just trying to distract u by talking with the boys n his other friends, all of the face timing to talk to the parents to be 🥺

yall r wrapping up a call with jeongin when u have the built up pressure feeling again

he doesn’t even explain to jeongin hes so quickly to hang up n ask u whats wrong

“i— it feels like i have to push.”

he’s already pressing the pretty lil white button on ur bed for the nurses n doctors

they confirm that u indeed r ready to push and that the baby is in position

hyunjin trying to take a peek WHAT A WEIRDO

yall hearing ur baby has a head full of hair and u just give hyunjin this look

like WTF no wonder why u had so much heartburn its because of ur fuckin rapunzel baby daddy

here comes the cries, loud n u just heard the quietest sob from beside u which was hyunjin

“it’s a baby boy, congrats!!”

his lil puppy baby boy 🥺

he had a lil pout like his daddy n his brown locks on top of his head

it was kinda creepy how similar they looked

anyways u dont care ur lil boy is p e r f e c t and nobody could dare tell yall different

u would disagree anyways because thats ur lil pouty baby boy n hes so cute 🥺

“we got a pretty good break-up story right? one for the books.”

he’s got baby boy in his arms bundled up but that doesn’t stop u from smacking his arm before kissing him quickly

“yea, we do.”

©️ maysdiors 2020 :: all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.

#stray kids #skz #pregnant!reader #hyunjin #hyunjin angst #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #mom!reader #dad!skz #dad!stray kids #bangchan x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #felix lee x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz angst #skz fluff #skz scenarios #i.n x reader #stray kids au #skz au #stray kids series #skz series #jisung x reader #dad!hyunjin #hyunjin x pregnant!reader

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

The Witch and The Wolf Pt.44

Word Count: 2,497

Characters: Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Rafael McCall (mentioned), Chris Argent (brief), Demon!Reader

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Witch!Reader

Warnings: angst, some minor characters death, actual shitty writing

A/N: this is like third-person omniscient sort of but not rly i guess

A/N 2: blech, I still have writer’s block so sorry for this one :/

Masterlist    Series Masterlist

“(Y/N), it’s me, again. Call me back if you get this,” there was the 10th voicemail left by Derek, calling you once again.

Stiles was at Eichen House, Scott, Isaac, and Allison were trying to look for some sort of scroll, talking about exorcising the nogitsune out of Stiles. Derek and Chris sat handcuffed in cells, while the entire police department was out looking for you. The two of them stayed there for the day before being released. Derek still had no idea where you were. 

Your cellphone soon became out of service, no way of contacting you at all. 

“Derek!” Isaac ran into the loft frantically, snapping Derek’s attention away from you for a brief moment.

“What? What is it?” 

“(Y/N)’s a demon,” he started.

“What?” Derek tensed up, clenching his jaw as he uncrossed his arms.

“How do you know?” he asked, running to Isaac.

“Because Agent McCall sent deputies out to go look for her, three of them supposedly died from a heart attack,” Isaac explained.

Damn it, Derek thought.

“Well, we need to trap her,” Derek said.

“How?”

“Help me find her spellbook. There’s a way to trap her until we figure out something else…” Derek started, before frowning.

“What book?” Isaac watched as Derek ran across the loft anxiously, looking for an old book of yours. The only possession of yours left.

“(Y/N) planned out a way to trap herself, until we found a cure. It’s in one of her old spell books, but I can’t remember where it is. It has to be somewhere here,” Derek shook his head.

“Well, let’s say we find the book. Do you have an actual plan?” Isaac crossed his arms.

Derek paused, leaning against the counter in distress before frowning, hearing his phone ringing.

“Hello?” he answered.

“I've been trying to get in touch with (Y/N) for some time now. I found a cure,” Derek tensed up, picking up the call from Deucalion.

He looked at Isaac, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What do we need to do?” Derek asked.

“Here’s what needs to happen…”

---

You walked alone in the woods, humming a soft melody as your eyes were black.

You stopped in your tracks, sensing someone behind you and you raised an eyebrow, turning around.

“Yes, officer?” you recognized his badge.

“(Y/N), you have to come with me,” he started.

“Praefoco,” you rolled your eyes, watching him stop in his words, gasping for air as he fell to his knees.

You laughed softly to yourself, walking away from the collapsed body on the floor.

You had killed four more people, experimenting in different ways you could kill people, with your heightened powers. Everything felt better, everything felt free. You didn't have a single care in the world and you loved it.

You stood in front of the Sheriff’s station, using your magic to listen in as you tried to make out who was in there.

“Just find her. I don’t care what it takes,” you heard his voice, hearing him put the phone down.

He was all alone inside. Half the department was out, looking for his mysterious masked stabber, while the other half was looking for you and other missing deputies. A shame they’d only find their bodies.

You could feel more and more anger flood your veins as you took a step, walking into the empty station.

You spotted Agent McCall, sitting alone on his desk as he looked at the paperwork.

You opened your mouth before taken by surprise, feeling some wrap their arm around your waist, pulling you back.

Your eyes glew black as you pushed him off of you, seeing Derek standing behind you.

“Come with me,” he said.

“Oh, you found me. Great,” you said sarcastically.

“Yeah, I did. Now come with me,” he wrapped a pair of handcuffs on your wrists, pulling you out of the police station.

“What the hell are these? What the hell are you doing to me?” you tried to use your powers, trying to break free, but finding yourself unable to do so.

“Yeah, they're spelled. We’re gonna cure you, (Y/N),” he held onto your arm tightly, walking with you as you laughed bitterly.

“Yeah, not possible,” you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well Deucalion found something,” Derek said.

“You’re boring,” you sighed.

He ignored your remarks, taking you to the woods.

---

“You killed four people?” you sat in a chair, your hands and legs tied up behind you. There was a devil’s trap on the ground.

“Is that judgment in your voice, babe?” you scoffed.

“Those four people were innocent,” he shook his head.

“Oh, don’t give me that crap. Like you've never ruined an innocent life before,” you rolled your eyes.

“That's-” he started.

“That bus driver was innocent. That witch was innocent. Paige was innocent. Erica was innocent. Boyd was innocent. Don’t judge me for killing when you’ve killed too,” you glared at him, seeing his face drop slightly as he turned his back to you.

“That’s different,” he said.

“No, it really isn’t,” you made a fake pouty face as he walked over to you, holding a syringe in his hand.

“What the hell is that?” you asked.

He put his hand on your head, pulling it to the side as he stuck the needle into your neck, while you screamed out.

“It’s blood. It’s holy blood, and it’s the only way to cure you,” he replied.

You breathed heavily, slumping in your chair as your eyes glew black.

“You’re gonna regret that,” you yelled.

“Yeah, okay,” he crossed his arms, leaning against the wall as he sighed, looking down at you.

Several thoughts brown through his head, praying that this would work and that you would be okay. He already knew what would happen when you came to, all the nightmares, remembering all the people who you killed as they haunted your dreams.

“Derek,” you whispered.

He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow as he frowned, seeing your eyes water.

“(Y/N)?” he asked softly.

“Derek,” you sniffled.

He tensed up, seeing a tear slip down your face as he ran to you, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“I-I didn’t… I thought I’d need to do that a couple of times, i-is it… are you okay?” he immediately asked.

“Just get these off of me,” you said.

He stroked your cheek softly, before frowning.

Crap, he knew

“Derek, take these off of me,” you said.

“I almost fell for it,” he scoffed, before walking away from you.

“Ugh, I was close, wasn’t I? But really, that’s all it took? A tear? Weaker than I thought, Hale,” you smirked.

He picked up his book, leaning against the wall once more.

It was going to be a long night.

---

“Why do you care so much about getting me back? New and improved right here,” you laid back in the chair, leaning your head back.

“Improved? People are dead,” he walked to you, holding yet another syringe in his hand.

It was obvious that he wanted out of there. Tired of putting up with your tormenting remarks about him. You never seemed to give him a break, continuously insulting him. He tried to tell himself that you didn't mean it, it was the demon talking. You loved him and you would never say that stuff to him. As time went on, it became harder and harder for him to convince himself. But he still wasn’t going to leave you to suffer.

“Everything that you claim is wrong with me, is entirely your fault,” you said as he froze.

“What do you mean?” he stiffened.

“I lost control because of you. I killed my dad because of you. This whole thing started because of you. Don’t you remember that night? When I came to your loft? Don't you remember what you said to me?” Derek felt instant regret in his heart, remembering.

“You told me you never loved me, we only got together because we were lonely. Well, you were right, Derek. I never loved you. I never forgave you. We weren't meant to last.” 

Derek ran his fingers through his hair, trying to hold in his emotions as he tried not to let your words get to him.

“I didn't mean what I said. I was under a spell,” he started, lowering his voice.

“That spell cost lives. That spell widowed a woman and orphaned her children,” Derek frowned, slightly confused.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked.

“Oh, right, I didn’t tell you. Yeah, my dad got remarried! To someone else, and he had some more kids. He left us in the dust, all alone, all fucked up,” you laughed softly.

“You didn't tell me that-” he started.

“Probably because I don’t still don’t trust you,” you shrugged.

“That’s not…” Derek was at a loss for words as he looked down at you.

“You broke my heart, Derek. You broke me. I won’t be able to trust you again,” you looked at him, giving him an annoyed look before smirking.

“Oh, I’m getting to you, aren’t I? You know I'm right, Derek,” you laughed bitterly.

He clenched his jaw, grabbing your head as he stabbed the syringe into your neck, hearing you scream out in pain as he dug his nails into his palm.

He pushed away from you harshly, immediately leaving the room before a tear fell from his eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

She doesn't mean it he tried to convince himself, but it didn't matter. Deep down he knew you were right, he never wanted to admit it to himself. You would be better off without him. 

---

Derek’s head shot up, hearing a loud noise of something crashing. He ran into the house, immediately running to you, hearing someone yelling.

Isaac, he recognized.

You stood over him, as he dropped to his knees in front of you, struggling to breathe.

“(Y/N)!” he ran to you, grabbing the handcuffs before you pushed them away from him.

“I warned you,” your eyes were pitch black as Isaac whimpered softly, falling over to his side, unconscious. Derek could hear a faint heartbeat, knowing Isaac was alive.

You whispered something softly, as Derek struggled to move, finding himself pinned against the wall.

You grabbed the pocketknife, which sat on the table as you walked to Derek slowly.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long,” you held the knife against his throat as he clenched his jaw, looking down at you.

“Don’t do this (Y/N). I know you’re still in there somewhere. The real you, not this demon bitch,” he took a deep breath.

“I am (Y/N), Derek. This is me. I’ll save you the trouble of having to see me like this anymore,” he winced softly, feeling the blade break into his skin, drawing blood.

“Yeah, maybe not,” Derek heard Isaac’s voice, as he took a needle, stabbing it into your neck.

You dropped the knife, as Derek gasped for air, falling to his knees. Your eyes reverted back to their natural color, as your body went limp, falling over.

Isaac reached for Derek, helping him up before wrapping his arms around him, taking Derek by surprise. He stiffened first, before wrapping his arms around Isaac’s shaking body.

---

You squinted your eyes, groaning softly as you sat up, looking around cautiously.

Memories came flooding as your eyes watered, remembering everything.

No

“(Y/N),” you heard Derek’s voice as you jumped slightly, looking back at him in shock.

A son escaped from your mouth, before he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his lips to your head, trying to calm you.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you cried.

He remained quiet, his eyes red as he felt a tear stream down his cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

---

Your mind drifted off, remembering the events from the past day as you sat on Derek’s bed, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He lent you a shirt, seeing as all your other clothes were gone.

“Derek,” you said softly as he walked into the room.

He inhaled softly, sitting down next to you.

“Please, just say something,” your voice wavered slightly.

“I have nothing to say,” he whispered.

“I know you do. Just, please,” you begged.

“I just…” his voice drifted off as he shook his head.

“Derek,” you put your hand on his shoulder.

“We need to stop this,” he said, running his fingers through his hair as he turned to face you.

“Stop what?” you said, although you already knew the answer.

“This isn’t good for us anymore, I think we should call it,” Derek’s eyes watered slightly as he stood up, looking down at you.

“Derek, no-” you started.

“I love you, (Y/N), you know that I love you. But, I don’t… I don’t think you’ve ever loved me as much as I love you,” his voice was low as he looked away from you.

“No, Derek, I-I swear that’s not true,” you shook your head.

“(Y/N),” he started.

“It’s not true, you have to believe me. E-Everything I said, I didn't mean it, I swear,” your voice wavered as you looked up at him.

“You didn't say anything that wasn’t true,” he rubbed his eyes as he looked back at you.

“Derek,” you started.

“J-Just listen to me, (Y/N),” his voice broke as he looked at you.

“We don’t work together. We always argue, there’s always something in between us. We tried to tell ourselves we could get past it, but we can’t,” he said.

“We can get past it. We just have a few problems to work out,” you sniffled.

“Do you trust me?” he asked softly.

“W-What do you mean? O-Of course I do,” you let out a soft chuckle, trying to hide your tears as you frowned.

“Don’t lie to me, please (Y/N). Do you or do you not trust me,” he asked again.

“Derek, I do,” you replied, more and more tears streaming down your face.

“Then why didn't you tell me any of this before? About your dad and his family? That it was my fault you killed him in the first place?” 

You bit your lip, holding back your cries as you shook your head, putting your hand over your mouth.

“Exactly. You need to… You need to go,” he whispered, looking away from you.

 You could feel your heart aching, feeling your head pounding as more and more tears rushed to your eyes, blurring your vision.

You pushed yourself out of his room, running away.

---

You knocked at Chris’ door softly, blinking back your tears as he gave you a concerned look, opening the door.

“(Y/N)? Where have you been?” he asked.

Your vision blurred as more tears came to your eyes

“C-Can I stay with you?” you cried softly.

He nodded his head, wrapping his arms around you before leading you into the apartment.

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