embe95

[embe95]

You could've asked

Synopsis: Seungmin was jealous, more so than he had ever been. And it ended up resulting in a black eye and almost costing him the woman he loved and a possible friend.

First time writing with Seungmin in mind, this was fun! It started as something completely different and then took a turn, it came out pretty sweet I think. Have a great day! You are amazing <3

Warnings: physical violence (Seungmin gets punched), jealousy, cursing, alcohol consumption, otherwise it's all fluff and love. The AFAB character is an OC, but not a very well defined one especially appearance-wise.

Word count: 2,470

He ran after her as she exited the building, following a proper shouting match with Chan. They'd never fought before, but the situation had grown and festered for what felt like a lifetime. It wasn't true of course, they hadn't even known each other for more than a few months. And they only met because Stevie was in their lives.

It was a beautiful afternoon, Chan and Stevie were having their usual Wednesday date in the cafe by the river. Seungmin had happened to walk by, Stevie stopped him and introduced them. That's all. Then suddenly they hung out in the same group. A lot. Because that's who Stevie was; always wanted to include everyone and have everyone get along. Unfortunately she didn't always have the best eye for who fit together, but Seungmin didn't have the heart to tell her. 

She would've listened and apologized immediately. Been beside herself for the pain she caused, which she didn't have to be because she didn't know. How could she know? There was no way she understood how painful it was for someone who was in love with her to share the same space with someone so close to her so often. They were always sitting so close together, laughing, giving each other little pecks.

Seungmin couldn't blame her, how could he? She was just being her beautiful, caring self. Her heart was what he fell for first and foremost, because it was so obvious to anyone who met her how big and full of love it was.

Chan and Stevie met in high school, at band camp. Chan was multi-talented, singing, playing the guitar, drums and making his own tracks. Stevie played the violin, albeit very well, but it was her one and only brush with music.

Seungmin and Stevie met in college, they were both studying journalism and world cultures. Seungmin had every opportunity to become a doctor (including being extremely smart and diligent), thus following his parents wishes but decided to pursue writing instead. Stevie still played the violin, but the hours spent on writing and research consumed the biggest slice of her life.

Chan was like a fresh summer breeze at the beach, comforting and full of life and adventure. His smile lit up the town, and his kindness and social skills were undefeated. In a word, Chan was wonderful. His producing career had taken off a few years back, and he worked with the top artists in the country while making his own music whenever he had the chance. They reconnected after randomly bumping into each other in the same cafe where they now had their weekly Wednesday date.

Seungmin had the most outrageous sense of humour, and could seem cold when people met him the first time. It was just his way of being shy, but after spending time together he was like a grumpy teddy bear with a brain the size of the Atlantic ocean, interested in every subject and intrigued by new things on the daily. In a word, Seungmin was wonderful.

Seungmin spent most of his time doing research and studying. His minor was international politics and communications, and he'd said multiple times that if given the chance, he'd head off wherever there was military conflict to try and get to the bottom of what is going on in the rubble. He wanted to make a difference with his writing and photos.

As Seungmin searched for Stevie's red rain coat in the midst of all the people celebrating the fact that the weekend had arrived, he couldn't help but beat himself up for exploding. It may have been the beers he'd downed, the crowded space, the way Chan seemed to get all the attention tonight. It felt so unfair, but that was no excuse. 

"Man, what is your problem?" Chan yelled, eyes wide and arms spread. Seungmin had just shoved him after he'd kissed Stevie's cheek.

"Seungmin!"

"You. You are my problem." He couldn't help it, enough was enough.

Chan cocked his head to the side and took a deep breath. Chan was horrified and disappointed in Seungmin, and he never would've imagined Stevie letting someone so narrow-minded get so close to him, or let alone want to be close to him herself.

"You wanna go? Okay, let's go."

"Chan!"

"I do want to fight you, believe me. But this can just as easily be sorted if you just back. the fuck. off."

"Oh? Well, that's too bad, because I have no intention to do that. Unless she tells me to."

"What is going on?"'

"Stevie, you have to choose."

"Dude. Listen."

Seungmin's eyes bored into Stevie's, but he became blurry to her when tears began clouding her vision. Chan grabbed Seungmin's shoulder but he yanked himself away.

"Stevie. Choose. Please, I can't do this anymore."

"Choose what?" Stevie shouted. But looking between the two the "what" struck her like lightning. "N-No, Seungmin, why are you doing this? Chan's-"

"I just told you. I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?"

"Pretend this-" he motioned around to all three of them. "-is okay. It's not. It's torture."

Chan sighed. But it was a sigh of relief. Seungmin wasn't narrow-minded, he was jealous. That would be a hell of a lot easier to sort out.

"Seungmin, listen, I'm-"

"You're so clueless of what you do to me. Or you're not and it's on purpose and you're a worse person than I could've imagined."

"Okay, that's it," Chan forgot the burst of understanding in a heartbeat when Stevie was disrespected. He grabbed the collar of Seungmin's t-shirt with fury boiling his blood, but before the older man's fist collided with his jaw, the door slammed. The two heads, in close proximity to each other, snapped towards the spot Stevie had vacated in a hurry and in tears.

Chan didn't pause for long.

"Listen, you fucking idiot. You don't know what you're talking about. You go and apologize right now. Make it right."

Chan threw a stunned, drunk Seungmin towards the door without a further explanation. If he wasn't drunk he wouldn't have done that, but now the blonde's big brother side came out and somehow overruled his other thoughts of comforting his best friend. His drunk brain figured he'd get Stevie and bring her back upstairs. They'd both explain together. But the two didn't return.

Seungmin sprinted out after haphazardly grabbing his coat, remorse filling him from head to toes.

He knew it wasn't right. And he wanted to apologize if he could just find-

There.

"Stevie!" he called, a few heads turned to gawk at the source of the loud noise. But Stevie's head wasn't one of them. Either she couldn't hear him or she was, for the first time during their friendship, actually pissed at him.

The latter seemed more likely since her pace seemed to pick up. Her house wasn't far, luckily, but unfortunately Seungmin also knew the way by heart, he'd walked her there countless times.

"Stevie, please stop!"

"Hey dude, if she doesn't want to talk you should let her be," a strong hand gripped his chest just as he was at arms length.

"Mind your business," Seungmin spat back and gripped the wrist with his left hand. He wasn't confrontational, just occupied by getting to the girl he loved. But to the drunken gentleman, those were fighting words, and a blink of an eye later Seungmin's eye was in the process of turning purple. 

"Want some more you asshole?"

"Stop!"

Stevie's voice was strong as she gripped Seungmin's shoulders to hold him up.

"Please don't hurt him- again, it's okay, he's my... friend."

"Stevie," Seungmin groaned, one hand covering his throbbing eye.

"You sure?"

"Mhm," Stevie nodded. "Thank you for having my back. I'm Stevie."

"Yeah, I figured. I'm Ollie. Hey man, uh, sorry about the shiner."

Seungmin lifted his head slightly to look at the man whose name was apparently Ollie. Of course Stevie introduced herself, at this point half the city knew her by name surely. He had no strength to argue, and this probably had some karmic intervention type of point. Plus, the guy did think he was harassing Stevie so if it had been anyone else following her he would've thanked him for his service. So yeah, it was fine. But that didn't make the pain any less.

"You've got a mean hook," he grimaced and waved his unoccupied hand. "It's fine, dude, we're cool."

"Come on, let's go to mine."

They walked in silence, Stevie's hands remained around Seungmin's shoulders to steady him. The idiot she was fuming at. But she'd hold an umbrella over his head in the rain no matter how mad he made her. She'd make him soup when he's sick even if she was sick of him. She loved Kim Seungmin. She loved him even if sometimes she didn't like him. In that moment she wondered why the hell she loved him, how she could love someone who would act this way. He had been too perfect for a long time.

At that moment she had to concentrate to hold her tongue and not start telling him off, the Moscow mules in her system swirling and trying to spew out the choice words she had reserved just for him. Hurting her, hurting Chan, what the hell was he thinking?

"Stevie," Seungmin sighed when his back leaned against the elevator wall as they waited for it to climb to the highest floor where her studio dwellings awaited.

"Don't."

Her phone vibrated deep in her pocket. Chan's name lit up the screen, acting as a reminder of what Seungmin had demanded of her. Seungmin scoffed, jealousy raising it's hideous head.

"You won't talk to me but sure, answer when he calls."

She wasn't going to. But she'd be damned if he was allowed to push her around.

"Hey Chan, what is it? Yeah, I'm almost home... Yeah, he caught up to me... I'll talk to you late- what? Yeah, we'll be fine. Can I tell him? Thanks, love you."

Seungmin gulped. 

"Just get home safe, and please tell Jeongin I'm sorry for not hugging him goodbye. And thank him for hosting. And say bye to the girls for me. Thanks... Bye."

The whole time, the entire call, Stevie didn't look away from Seungmin once. His nostrils flared, his one good eye staring right back. The stupid Mexican standoff ended when the elevator doors opened.

"Okay, talk," Stevie tied her hair into a pony and sat down on her favourite spot on the carpet in front of her bed after shoving an ice pack into Seungmin's hands. The injured (both eye and ego) man sat down in front of her, legs close to his chest. The involuntary flinch he made when the ice came into contact with his swollen eye launched a twinge through Stevie's heart and she almost softened. Almost.

"I feel terrible. I'm sorry," Seungmin looked at his knees. He couldn't face her glossy gaze.

"For...?"

"F-For saying you have to choose, and that you might be a horrible person."

"Why did you say that?"

She was torturing him, letting him stew and squirm. He'd acted like an idiot, she figured he shouldn't get out of it so easily.

Seungmin opened and closed his mouth multiple times. Stevie could make out the dark bruise that was forming around his eye. The lamp on her nightstand illuminated half of his face, perfectly highlighting his jaw and the brown strands that framed his face.

"I was mad."

"Because...?"

"Because you love him more than me."

The answer didn't shock her. She wasn't dumb, Seungmin was obviously jealous. Okay, maybe she'd been a little blind about what Seungmin had gone through, but there was an explanation. His jealousy was completely unfounded.

"Untrue," she stated simply. "I love you both, equally. Just... a little differently."

"You say that, but-"

"Chan's gay."

Seungmin turned into a statue.

Chan's... Chan's what? But he was so sure that he... 

"I'm an idiot."

Stevie nodded. "Yeah, but you also didn't know. You couldn't, we didn't tell you, he hasn't been in a relationship in a good while, and we're really close and personal. But it's just our friendship. You could've just asked. He's like my brother. And you... you're not like my brother."

Stevie pulled herself to her knees and tumbled closer to Seungmin, who stared at her with his one good eye. The beautiful dark brown colour was surrounded by long, beautiful lashes. Her eyes flicked to his lips momentarily.

"I can prove it," she smiled and leaned even closer. "If that's okay with you."

He gulped. Then nodded.

"O-Okay."

His breath probably smelled like beer, his lips were dry, there was an ice pack covering his eye, his eye was almost swollen shut, he'd just almost made the woman he was in love with hate him by making her choose between her gay best friend and him. 

But damn it if that wasn't the sweetest, gentlest, greatest kiss of his life.

His mind flashed to all the times she'd complimented him, helped him, touched him. Loved him. All the signs he'd been too blind to see because of his jealousy.

"I'm afraid I'll hurt you again," Seungmin gulped. "I never knew I could be so jealous."

"We'll sort this out. And besides, you were in pain and I didn't even notice," Stevie pouted and softly placed her hand over the one holding the cold plastic over the karmic intervention on his face. He didn't even flinch, but instead sighed with relief. "So we'll work on this dynamic together."

She pecked his lips again.

"Okay?"

"Okay. I'm sorry I didn't ask. And for the shit I said. And for causing a scene."

"I forgive you. But don't you ever, ever threaten people again. And you have to apologize to Chan."

They called Chan together after Seungmin popped some Ibuprofen. Chan laughed on the other end, obviously still drunk.

"Just don't be this dramatic all the time."

Seungmin's chuckle turned into a pained groan, the rise of his cheekbones making the bruise pulse again.

"I think he got the message," Stevie giggled and chucked the ice pack back to Seungmin's extended hand. They ended the call and sat in a comfortable silence. Seungmin was over the moon: the woman he loved wanted to be with him, he hadn't lost her. He could stop feeling inferior and furious towards a guy he actually thought was cool and nice. Maybe they could be friends.

Chan was Seungmin's best man three years later. He'd tried to make Chan choose, but Stevie had bowed out, amused by the turned tables. Her maid of honor was Ella, a girl she met while taking out the trash one autumn evening.

#stray kids #seungmin #seungmin imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz #skz seungmin #skz x oc #kim seungmin #bang chan #skz bang chan #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #seungmin oneshot

[embe95]

Forget again

I got emotional and wrote this little piece to accompany Bangchan's masterpiece. My idea was that you could read this within the beautiful, heartbreaking 169 seconds the song lasts for, but would recommend looping the tune just in case so you can keep the vibe.

Stray kids everywhere all around the world <3

She bangs on the door mere seconds after he slammed it in her face.

Not again. How could she do this again?

“Channie, please! Let me in, I’m so sorry.”

Her high, broken sobs echo in his dark room.

Chan trembles.

Not again.

“Come on, baby, please... just let me in, we can talk about this. I promise, it meant nothing... Channie, let me in!”

How many times had he heard those words? How many more could he take?

How could she do this again?

“I love you so much baby, I promise, I was just stupid. I’m so sorry. Please let me in! I love you baby!”

Loves him? She loves him? Is this love?

How can she possibly think this is love?

His friends think he’s crazy. She’s cruel. She’s poisonous. She’s using him. But they don’t know everything that makes her perfect. They only see the ugly. They don’t understand.

This has to be love. She’s all Chan knows. His friends have to be wrong, they just have to.

“Let’s talk about this, baby, come on, let me in. Channie... I promise it won’t happen again!”

How many times had he heard those words? So many lies.

His cries are the opposite of hers. Silent. Powerless.

Chan needs to give this up.

“It was just a mistake, you’ve been ignoring me and I needed someone, just for a bit. Baby, you have to understand, I’m so sorry, just let me in...”

Ignoring her? When?

Why does that matter?

How could she do this again?

“Baby... come on, baby. Baby...”

She’s getting louder. Chan doesn’t want her to yell.

“JUST OPEN THE DOOR BABY! YOU HAVE TO FIX THIS WITH ME! I LOVE YOU BABY!”

I love you too.

I love you.

Why does it hurt so much?

He breaks. The sobs that shake him hurt his torso so much he has to bend over, hands flying around his middle. His throat is closing. Air is stuck in his lungs and it only slips out in small beats when he forces it.

It hurts. It hurts so bad. Please, someone just make it stop. I need it to stop.

He can’t see anything. His face is wet.

Chan needs to scream.

“How could you...” he whispers. “I love you so much. How could you?”

Chan needs her to leave. But he can’t say it.

“Baby... baby, please.”

Chan’s body curls into a ball. His forehead finds the floor, his nails make the scars on his clawed heart visible on the hardwood.

It hurts so much.

Chan needs her to stay.

Slowly, shivering, he sits up and stares at the door separating him and her. The love of his life. The worst thing that has ever happened to him.

Jaw clenched, muscles tense, he moves.

He opens the door. Lets her in.

How can he forget?

Chan will always open the door for her.

He might as well forget. Again.

[embe95]

Can we continue, please?

Synopsis: "Can we keep learning the choreography, please?" It was a bad idea then, it's still a bad idea now. But sure, why not?

First time writing smut, very strange feeling publishing it. Oh well, it was a fun challenge. CW below the cut! This is sort of a part two to Teach me, please, but can totally be read separately.

Word count: around 4500 (mhmmmmmm okay, how?)

This story includes an AFAB reader, a pet name (angel), oral (f and m receiving), sex without condom (nope, do not do it), just two very horny people aaaand let me know if I missed something.

ˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆ

It wasn't like she was some horny little kitten who couldn't stay professional, but the what if's just wouldn't stop bombarding her. Their impact was so hard her eyelids kept bouncing. 

His tongue running along her jawline, hands caressing her sides and then gripping her like a vice, hard and greedy. The anguished, starved breaths, the beautiful black hair dripping with sweat. He would've fucked her so hard. His tongue would've been magic between her lips and legs. He would feel just... so good.

No sleep tonight then... oh well. Maybe not being able to see straight would help her steer clear of Hyunjin's eyes.

Morning crept in through the windows, and Y/N crawled out of bed with a string of sighs and curses. I'll be fine, let's just get to work. There are eight of them, it's not like we'll be alone.

A few miles away, an equally disheveled man sat on his floor, staring at the light climbing on the wall of his room in the very spot he'd inhabited for he didn't know how long. The thought of skipping practice rarely crossed his mind, if ever, but maybe, just maybe, today of all days he'd suddenly come down with a cold or headache and wouldn't be able to make it. How could he hide what they'd done, what he wanted to do again, from his brothers, the ones who knew him best? They'd see right through him.

And what would he even wear? The t-shirt he'd worn on that fateful night still smelled like Y/N, the scent overtook him as he brought it close to his nose. It wasn't unwashed on purpose, he just hadn't gotten around to it. It's heavenly...

She would feel so good around me, taking me. She'd taste amazing, I'm sure of it. 

Hyunjin groaned at the thought, equally frustrated and turned on.

They wouldn't be angry, they'd be worried, for Y/N as well as him. Worried for both their jobs, mostly hers, and Chan would be nervous because of the rule-breaking in general. They'd understand, but what if they'd ask her to not work with them anymore? They'd tell him they'll help him get over it.

The thought made Hyunjin's forehead tighten. What if he didn't want to get over it? Who were they to decide for him?

The sunlight was harsh on her eyes, sunglasses would've been a life saver. Unfortunately, the only ones in sight were worn by the one person Y/N had been dreading and craving to see. Y/N's feet paused. So did Hyunjin's.

So. pretty... Stop it.  Just get inside.

They collided by the main entrance, coming face to face from opposite directions as their daily routes dictated.

"Annyeong-haseyo," Hyunjin said stiffly with a polite nod.

"Annyeong-haseyo."

The politeness level was unnecessary, but simultaneously it served as an indicator to both of what the tone would be today.

Minho joined them in the elevator, pushing the doors open with a toned-down version of his irritated look due to the fact that his pleas to hold. The. Fucking. Door were totally ignored by the two inside.

"Ah, kure,"  he mumbled along with some curse words.

"Mian-heyo," Y/N stuttered softly. Minho's gaze eased up and he nodded before asking Hyunjin about lunch plans in Korean. Minho and Jeongin were the shyest when it came to using English around her, but they could communicate well enough. Minho always beamed when she spoke Korean.

Chan, Felix, Seungmin, Changbin and Jeongin had already arrived, the room was alive with excitement and warmth. Hyunjin's hand ghosted the lower back of the beautiful woman he wanted to bend over a table as they entered, impressed with how he controlled himself yet terrified of what situations the day would bring. Jisung ran in as the clock struck nine, hair a mess and his hoodie on backwards.

The practice went well, the day glided by with a few hiccups. The fear of the members finding out made their choreographer jumpier than usual, which in turn resulted in silly mistakes she would repeat in her mind well into her deathbed. Confusing left and right, and mixing up Felix and Chan and Minho and Jisung more than once gave way to every shade of red to paint her cheeks and ears.

Hyunjin's shirt lifted while doing a jump and she nearly had an aneurysm.

Hyunjin fared slightly better, but found himself stopping and staring so often he now felt his own dance style morphing into hers, that's how intently he followed her nuances and accents. His blood froze every time he noticed her nervousness, but then it melted and rushed down when he remembered she'd rolled that particular way against him during their private practice.

"Hey, you alright?" Chan patted Y/N's shoulder affectionately. Kind as always. "You did good, okay? The choreo is perfect. Thanks for hearing us out with the chorus."

"Of course!" Y/N sighed while packing her bag. "I love getting your input, it makes sense to me on every level."

The leader grinned but then furrowed his brows as their gazes met.

"You okay?"

A mumble didn't seem to suffice like she was used to when it came to "work friends". The furrowed brows climbed high.

"Just tired, I'm alright. Sorry for messing up so much."

"Naur, you're good, don't worry. We all have those days."

She lifted her almost-empty bottle to her lips.

"Hyunjin's having one of them, too."

The cough attack caused by the water in her windpipe made everyone fix their eyes on her.  Hyunjin's first instinct was to cradle her face to check if she was okay, it was fortunate the whole group reacted so his little ”ya” went unnoticed. 

”You good?” Chan quizzed after gently patting her upper back with an open palm. Y/N croaked a small confirmation that she was indeed fine, but one peek at Hyunjin made her want to dig a hole through the floor. Although, logical thinking would dictate that him being put off wouldn’t be the worst thing.

There was no logical thinking present in the grey matter in her skull, however, which was further proved when she replied ”yes” when Hyunjin quietly asked if she wanted to stay behind with him.

I have to prove to myself that I can do this. He’s my friend, and my colleague… I have to be able to do this. I just have to.

"Can we continue the choreography, please?” Mr. Hwang’s sweet accent spoke as the door closed behind Felix. The members didn’t think much of either of the diligent dance lovers continuing practice, though Minho had scolded them both for not coming to eat. 

”Yeah, sure!” she over-enthusiastically enunciated before awkwardly tiptoeing her way to the speaker. Without much thought, she put on her warm up playlist and returned to the centre, beginning a movement, some movement, any movement.

This is a bad idea. Once again, it is a bad idea.

The air in the room weighed them both down, the tension floating from floor to ceiling felt like a humid fog.

There were lines that they had already crossed, but both knew they still very much existed. Stomping all over them made them no less bright and blazing, the "TABOO" and "STOP" signs would've made any sensible pair not make the decision they made that fateful day.

If I kiss her now, who would know? Grab her waist and flip her around, take her hand and pull her to the dressing rooms. Hyunjin stared at her back, the gorgeous curve of her hips, the strong thighs that made her bounce as she danced. If she'd let me... god, I wish she'd let me.

"Hyunjin, are you okay?"

He hadn't noticed she had paused to stare at him through the mirror. His black hair moved slightly as he nodded, most of it decorating his neck and forehead tightly. Everything was turning intentional, even more so than before. He considered each motion, each blink, each clench of his jaw and each slow swallow. Maybe she'd notice.

She did.

But dancing is enough, it has to be enough.

"Yes, I'm good. All warmed up."

"Okay," Y/N nodded. ”Let’s begin.”

"Should we do the magnet-"

"No!"

The man jumped.

"Sorry! I, uh, think we should just continue the choreography." She did her best to soften her gaze while still keeping her distance. Those eyes were an endless, very forbidden adventure she wasn't allowed to venture on, no matter how big the craving nestled in her chest was. He saw her consoling look and accepted it, disappointed but understanding of the position they were in. Just two steps and he'd be close enough to touch her. To better dance with her, of course.

The contrast between what they had to do and what they wanted to do was the most irritating thing on the planet, but there was no getting around it. It was like their eyes were locked together, senses heightened, intents clear, but a wall of glass separated them. Like they could touch but they'd always burn each other, like some deities somewhere had decided to use them as puppets in some sick game or test of human character and the nature of lust. Burning had never felt so desirable. Each time Y/N directed Hyunjin's hands somewhere to touch her, her body jerked, battling whether to flinch away or moan.

And yet, somehow, they managed to keep going, both determined to stay close and prove they could do so without taking it further. The day turned to evening, the building emptying while the two ignored the clock completely.

"Good, a little to the left. Then five, six and seven and eight," she counted, moved and he followed. Arms up, arms down, arms around one another. "Yeah, then slide them down and spread your fingers," she continued, teacher mode once again activated which was a blessing in the moment. She was almost blind and deaf to Hyunjin's reactions because her entire focus was on getting the steps and placements correctly. "Ye- Not that low."

"Sorry."

"There you go. Then one, two and three, I'll arch down."

Hyunjin's eyes opened to the max as he felt her strong back muscles tense against his hands, her lower abdomen pressed against his sweats and that appetizing neck framed by her collarbones stretching so far his view through the mirror was perfect.

"Aaaand four," she slid back up expertly. The pause when their eyes met sucked Y/N out of her professional settings.

Look away... just look away. JESUS, DO IT NOW.

"And then?" Hyunjin cleared his throat.

"I... You hop back, left then right hitting five and, on six throw both hands down as if you've just washed them-  there you go, yeah. And I'll head to the floor."

Her knees collided with the floor skillfully, followed by her bending down onto her back. Hyunjin followed her as she instructed, and when the time came for him to pull her up and their skin connected, fingers tangling, they both felt something shift, very similar to last time. A crossroads, so dangerous and inviting.

"Then I..." Y/N whispered, moving a trembling hand up his torso as she slowly stood, the other still entwined with his long, slender digits. Hyunjin remembered this part, having watched his hyung do it. He was waiting for it, praying for it.

"Please, don't stop," he pleaded in a whisper, mouth next to her ear, shivering from anticipation. "I want you."

"Hyunjin-"

"I'll protect you."

His hands slid to her hips, pulling her closer, emphasized by a beat from the song. He was so hard against her thigh she had to swallow to keep the saliva from escaping the corners of her mouth.

"What if-"

"I promise."

"Wasn't dancing together supposed to be enough?" Y/N's voice was breathless, the question floated in the millimeter of air still between them. It could have been teasing, a taunt, an incredulous exclamation, a plea, a reminder. Instead, it worked as something of a final spark for the powder keg that was their otherworldly attraction towards one another.

"Is it?"

They stared, both coming to a decision simultaneously.  

Fuck it.

The first touch was primal, just like the first time their lips had come into contact. The pace seemed like they were trying to make up for every second they hadn't been kissing. They were trying to suck out each other's breath, to reach whatever it was that made the other so irresistible. One step at a time, clumsy and stumbling, a stark contrast to what could've been expected of two professional dancers, they traveled to the only soft piece of furniture in the room.

"Christ," Y/N sighed contently as Hyunjin began grinding his hips against her core after her figure was spread on the couch, on the very spot she'd stopped this very event just a week prior. This time she wouldn't be the one to stop it.

He spoke something in Korean and she could only pray it was something beautiful. The only word she understood was "woman". 

Hyunjin was incredulous, how did he get this lucky? A woman like this, so sexy, talented and strong was suddenly underneath him, allowing him to touch her. He hoped she understood how much he wanted this, how much he appreciated this, the fact she was jeopardizing something important just to give him this moment even though he couldn't express it. He felt perfect, complete drowning in this moment in all its forbidden nature. This time he wouldn't stop unless she asked him to.

"Jin," she whispered, the memory of his reaction to the nickname crystal clear in her head. It was now even greater, if possible. He moaned deeply before thanking her by sliding his tongue into her mouth. 

"Again," he panted, grinding against her with more intensity.

She repeated the syllable earnestly, happy to give him anything he wanted. "Jin, please."

"What, angel?"

Her already melted self turned into a flattered puddle right there and then. Angel? Hyunjin's hands roamed her torso, and his left finally found her chest. He felt her nipples prick through the shirt and smirked, pleased with the content sigh that escaped her mouth.

"Off," he mumbled against her neck. She obliged, maneuvering the fabric over her head as smoothly as she could with the little space he let her have. Each moment his lips weren't on her skin felt like a waste, so he followed the route her shirt traveled eagerly, cock throbbing and fingers eager. She was gorgeous, athletic, and her black sports bra had a zipper in the front, one she slowly opened for his viewing pleasure. Her breasts remained hidden beneath the fabric until Hyunjin reached them, hungrily planting kisses as his long digits moved to finally see her fully. The awe he felt was unmatched.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. Just for me, only for me. My angel. Just us, finally alone.

He froze before looking up at the corner of the room. The little black sphere stared back at him. 

”Come, angel,” he spoke with haste, taking both her hands and guiding her to stand. He stood in front of her, back to the surveillance camera, taking advantage of their height difference to protect her. She was dumbfounded by the interruption and annoyed at the sudden lack of intimacy, feeling like a child whose candy had been stolen. The situation was risky enough, why the sudden panic? Had he changed his mind?

”Hyunjin, what is it?” her voice bounced as he pulled her toward the door. He flinched when the nickname he’d just received disappeared, but there was time to get it back.

Just somewhere more private.

Hyunjin had looked for privacy before, whether it was to just be alone, to cry, to handle himself when he got a hard on. He found it ages ago.

There was a blind spot in the locker room, right by the showers. He’d make it work, he’d shared it before. Not like this though, never like this. Y/N seemed to have understood the problem and let him lead her without any follow-up questions, anything to cut this delay as short as possible. Going to either of their homes would take too long, not to mention being spotted was out of the question. Going home would create a risk of second-guessing or worse, make things more romantic and personal.

Let's just fuck once and get it out of our system.

"Here is safe."

"Good."

Y/N leaned against the wall and pulled Hyunjin to her, making a right hassle of kissing him with passion while trying to finally, finally get his shirt off and get to see his toned torso. Her flailing died down when the clothing hit the floor.

The only light in the room came from the window on the wall left of them. It created a delicate play of shadow and light on Hyunjin's features, and he noticed the same artwork painting her.

I want to paint her.

"You are beautiful," she mumbled, running her fingers across his abs. He remained serious and put her chin between his thumb and index finger. The simple motion made her clench around nothing. It was turning romantic. He was obviously romantic.

"You are an angel," he sighed before leaning in for a deep kiss. Slowly but confidently he let his right hand slide down to cup her heat. She whimpered. "So pretty. Perfect."

The way he pronounced the words, the way he began applying pressure, the way he was staring into her, it was all so much. They moaned into each other as Y/N decided to return the favour by stroking his length through his sweats. It only lasted a moment before Hyunjin had to stop her, hand flying to her wrist. He didn't know how to explain the reason properly in English though he desperately wanted to. He wanted to last, but with the way he was throbbing and the way even the lightest touches from his angel felt like heaven... he wouldn't. He needed time.

"Too much," he whispered, lips still touching hers as they moved. His gaze lifted.

"Can I...taste you before... I fuck you?"

Good god, that mouth. How can I say no?

"Yes, Jin."

His tongue was on her clit in less than a minute, her sweats now pooled at her feet along with her thong. His hands were secured around her thick thighs, holding on with so much excitement  she felt his desire through each spot where their skin was connected.

"Fuck, Jin! Yes, please, don't stop... please, FUCK!"

He slid two fingers inside, curling them gently against her g-spot.

My angel tastes so perfect.

His residency between her legs was one he never wanted to leave, while her lips were ambrosia, her juices were like nectar, a concoction unlike anything he'd ever tasted. The only reason he'd leave was because he promised to fuck her afterwards. Another sensation he was sure would be worth the wait after longing for this moment with her for weeks on end.

She tangled her fingers in his silky, sweaty black locks and tugged, emphasizing her moans and twitching thighs. 

He sped up his fingers, lips latching onto her clit fully, sucking hard.

How the fuck is he so good at every fucking thi-

"Jinnie, god- fuck! YES! Keep going keep going keep- please, oh- oh god-I-I'm cumming!"

He looked up at her with so much adoration she was about to lose consciousness, praying for her brain to keep this image forever. He gently licked her folds, digits slowing down to help her ride out the orgasm. His intentions were also selfish, because he wanted to keep devouring her and relish the flavour as long as he could.

"Thank you," she sighed and smiled while stroking his hair. He climbed to his feet. The tent in his sweats was as prominent as ever.

"My turn," Y/N kept smiling as she switched their positions by taking his shoulders and gently pushing his fit figure against the wall. As much as she craved to have him inside her, the opportunity to taste him was too tempting to pass. Since they were only going to do this once, they might as well do everything possible. And it felt fair, the orgasm he just gave her was earth-shattering.

It took the black-haired man a moment to register what she was referring to, but as she began descending to her knees the intent became crystal clear.

Hyunjin stopped her and lifted her back up, slamming his lips to her neck.

"No, thank you...  I need you."

Realization hit, disappointment sneaking in.

"But I don't have-"

"It's okay."

He stared at her. Y/N's arms slid around his neck and pulled him close.

"Are you going to fuck me now?" she moaned, earning a growl from him before he flipped them back around, continuing the dance. Y/N's hands flew to pull down Hyunjin's pants to help him shimmy out of them. She took a moment to admire him, finally seeing him fully, so fit and lean, dance-molded muscles all warm and flexed. His cock was impressive, slightly curved and thick.

"Yes, angel. I am. Are you ready for me?"

He lifted her with ease, the surprising show of strength raising her anticipation through the roof. Lined with her entrance, cock twitching and ready, Hyunjin looked into her eyes.

"I adore you, angel."

He slammed into her. The world exploded.

He fucked up into her with a strong, persistent pace.

"Yes, Jin, fuck... y-you feel so. good."

Please, don't ever let this end. If this is the first and only time, please let it last forever.

"Angel...fuck- so warm..."

And then the word just slipped out. He wasn't sure what he meant, what he wanted, was it his possessive side taking control. But in that moment nothing else mattered, not his work, who might find out, nothing. Having sex with her cleared his brain of all else.

"Mine... mine...."

"Yes, Jinnie- ah... fuck- all yours..."

It just slipped out. She didn't even pause with her reply. Fucking him just felt so good, the most perfect form of escapism she'd ever encountered. Screw everything else. Her second orgasm of the night was flooding in fast.

”Cum, angel. Do it.”

Hyunjin felt her pussy clenching around him and began pistoling into her. He was determined to get her to come again. Maybe this wouldn't have to be the first and last time.

"C-Cumming... fuck-"

"Touch yourself."

As soon as she pinched her clit between her fingers, she came completely undone around her forbidden lover's length happily, without a care in the world.

"God, that was... woah..."

Their foreheads were pressed together, sweat acting like glue. Hyunjin's eyes were wide and full of lust, mesmerizing and dangerous as ever. A siren. Her pussy fluttered around him, and he felt his climax was close. She knew it too and saw her opportunity.

She shoved him backward gently, feeling empty when he slipped out but she had no time to waste on those thoughts while on this mission. Her knees hit the floor and she took his length into her eager mouth quickly. The mix of his pre-cum with her own juices coated her tongue.

The moan that echoed in the room was melodical. Hyunjin's hands hit the wall, and as soon as his cock hit the back of his angel's throat he came. Hard. Korean curses fell from his mouth.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

There was a moment of panic that he'd made her uncomfortable because he gave no warning. He couldn't believe his eyes or his luck when he watched her swallow every single drop, happily licking her lips and looking up at him.

Okay, now I can die happily.

Two sweaty, satisfied dancers got dressed in the dark room, chuckling every now and again due to nerves and disbelief. Reality was hitting them. What if someone heard? What if someone was still here? What if they'd added new cameras? What if they can't keep working together? What if the members find out? What if this was a mistake?

Why did the mistake feel so good?

"Dancing is enough, huh?" Y/N huffed when they sat side by side against the wall.

Hyunjin laughed. His eyes landed on her slender fingers that rested close to his. He wanted to hold her hand, hold her.

"Angel," he whispered and tentatively placed his index finger on hers. She snapped her eyes down, hesitated for a moment and then joined their hands.

They sat like that for a good while, both coming down and trying to make sense of what just happened.

What now?

They repeated the same route as last time; left the room together only to part at the front entrance with a courteous smile.

She felt like breaking the pavement and digging a hole to crawl into when they separated just to stop this tsunami of questions and emotions. While she loved her job and wanted to hold on to it, she also wanted to hold onto Hyunjin. Romantic, hot, talented, strong, sex-god Hyunjin. That felt so easy, the only consequence was her feeling satisfied after two orgasms. Well, that she knew of. Now she'd have to spend her days scared of getting the call to meet with the executive or something.

But there was no going back, no way to cancel what had been done. They had sex. And she did want to do it again if possible, no matter how stupid and reckless it was. How can two people be so balanced with one another? There was no fight for dominance, only shared desire and need. Just like when they danced together. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt, the connection, the adoration, the shared respect. If they'd keep going she'd love to introduce him to her submissive side. But that was the perfect first time. And last. Right.

His career shouldn't be jeopardized because she wanted sex. She shouldn't jeopardize her own either.

However, the addiction had started, beginning with the gateway make out session before plunging straight into the harder, stronger fix. Could they be alright, knowing what could be? Alright having shared this one time, just holding on to the memory of it?

Hyunjin turned to look at her as she walked away. His angel. Would he ever be allowed to call her that again? He couldn't risk her job. There was a confidence in him that his career would be fine, maybe he’s get a slap on the wrist. This wasn't unheard of within the company nor big enough to get him fired. He was worried for her. She loved to dance, she was brilliant at it, the members enjoyed their collaboration as did the other groups.

But what just happened was amazing. Addictive. If she asked, he'd leap at the chance to keep going. Hell, the way he was feeling he'd do anything for her. But the ball was in her corner now. She decides. And he'll be fine with whatever she decides. No matter how much it hurts.

Y/N sat on her bed, staring at the light disappearing from her room as the sun set.

A few miles away, Hyunjin did the same.

They still hadn't finished the choreography. Maybe tomorrow?

#stray kids hyunjin #stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin imagines #stray kids imagines #hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids oneshot #hyunjin

[embe95]

It Only Took One Saturday

Synopsis: Mac's a good guy, okay? Well, I mean, he's the only one who cares about me... right? But then along comes Felix, who just changes everything.

Felix, again... He's just lovely to write for, idk man. This took waaaaay longer than I thought it would. And it is LONG. 6,800 words, jeepers.

Warnings: emotionally abusive relationship (reader has a toxic ex), cursing, talk of sex (not explicit) but yeah, here we are

Late again! Fuck… fuck Y/N, you can’t keep doing this!

I cover my face with a pillow, groan and stagger up quickly even though my body begs me to catch up on my sleep some more. Late… I’m late. Again. Minho is going to slice my head clean off.

Where- oh right, there…

”Y/N?” I hear his groggy voice from the messy bed. It’s covered with regret from corner to corner.

Fuck. Not again.

”Mac! You’re up!” I turn, grinning with panic, arms still flailing around to try and grab my clothes.

Mac leans up on his elbows, toned biceps flexing, hair a mess, and so it all comes back to me.

I’m at his house again. Why, why, why do I keep doing this?

I pull on my sweats, grateful that some part of me must have considered the fact that I have practice today.

This is not at all surprising. I came here after an anxiety attack and we had sex. Disappointing, yes, both as a decision and as an activity, but not surprising.

”You have practice again?” Mac’s voice sounds like a chain saw, but his tone is nonchalant. He’s gonna ask when he can see me next. I’m already bugged by the question.

”Mhmm… yeah.”

Where is the damn- oh yeah, there.

I pull my shirt on.

”When can we meet up?”

”Mac, listen, this was fun, but I don’t think-”

”Yeah, yeah, just stop. You say the same shit every time. Just face it, it’s not like you’re gonna find someone better. What we have is fine.”

”What we ha- You know what? Not now. I’m late. We’ll talk later.”

Mac’s reply ”see you tonight” rings in my ears as a disheartening taunt, a threat, a promise and, unfortunately, most likely a fact.

The city streets are filled with people who just can’t seem to understand that they are in my way and not moving quickly enough. The ride on the bus takes longer than it usually does. Seoul flies by, colours, sounds, smells all mixing together. What if I don't see Mac tonight? What if I do? Will he be angry if I'm alone? If I decide to be by myself will I end up going back anyway?

My body is tense and I check the time every few seconds, half waiting and half dreading the famous message I’m about to receive.

| What degree would you like me to set the air fryer to?

Actually, no. That one would be Minho when he’s not in his all-consuming choreographer mode, but when I’m just late for a coffee date etc. Nah, the text I’m about to get is from the team.

*Ping*

Called. It.

| Jinnie: What temp should Min set the air fryer to?

| Felix: I’ve hidden it, don’t worry

They’re hilarious.

| Y/N: eta 3 min

I’m usually late when I sleep over at Mac’s. It feels like a cycle, an unhealthy one at that. Are cycles ever positive? I digress.

We officially broke up over three months ago. Why did we do that again? Did we ever really? Bitch, please. I’m the one who called it off because I felt like there was a rhino sitting on my chest whenever we were together. But then… I don’t know. The rhino became a constant presence, and without another body close to mine it wiggles and jumps and dances. Sex is a distraction. But it’s never quite what I need. Maybe I'm the problem? Maybe I'm too much in my head? Maybe I'm bad at it? It’s more of a sport, really. At least dancing makes me sweaty and satisfied. 

Speaking of.

After what seems like 3 hours to me, the packed bus finally glides to my stop and I squeeze myself out from between two suits smelling of expensive Sauvage. The perfume stays with me as I speed to the studio on the 10th floor.

Almost there. Already sweaty.

I toss my bag and jacket, bow as deep as I can without falling over and join the warm up.

The next half an hour is grueling.

”Hey you,” Felix sighs as he slumps down next to me. He’s panting nearly as hard as me.

Thank goodness it’s not just me being out of shape, Minho is really working us today.

I wish I was focusing on him, his freckles and that incredible blonde hair that’s sticking to his forehead and neck. Instead I’m stuck staring at the luminescent rectangle in my hand, at the text underneath a number that should’ve been deleted long ago.

| Can you grab some toilet paper on your way over?

”You alright?”

”Yeah, I’m fine,” I sigh and discard the phone back into my bag. Airplane mode on, obviously, no phones during practice.

Felix stays quiet, fiddling with the strings on his hoodie.

”What’s up with Hyung today?”

”Right?” I leap at the opportunity to distract myself from the message I just received, but its effect on my mood is evident.

But Felix is his gentle self and doesn’t push it. He knows it’s not the time or place. He knows I don’t much care for talking in general.

”Break’s over! C’mon!”

We’ve been a dance team for a while, me, Felix, Hyunjin, Jisung and Elle. Three months to be exact. Minho focuses on the choreos but sometimes the formations he comes up with require pairings, and so he hops back in to where he originally began; dancing with his friends. I met them all during Minho’s classes, Hyunjin first at contemporary, Elle and Felix in street styles.

When my dear friend opened his dance school a few years back I attended it as more of a ”supportive friend” sort of thing, but ended up loving it so much there was nothing to do but become a standard fixture in Minho’s classes.

Then one September evening after a particularly sweaty contemporary class Min asked if I’d have the guts to try out for a team he was putting together. I almost started crying because of how touched I was that he wanted me to join so desperately.

It felt like magic, the way we all just clicked. We have ambition, Minho’s choreographies and just a shit-load of fun together. I didn’t even completely comprehend how far Minho’s reputation had spread before I found out that Felix had flown all the way from Australia just to attend his workshop. And now, here he is, next to me, practicing the most difficult combo I’ve ever witnessed Minho do.

I have the best time with all of them, no matter what we do. But Felix… he’s so kind and bright and pure like a fresh summer breeze. While my humor is more on the dark side (thank you, Min), we get along much better than I dared hope. My only ”problem” is that he never seems to be in a bad mood, and I don’t trust people without a dark side. He’s competitive, absolutely, and gets a little frustrated when he doesn’t learn a choreography as fast as he’d like. But according to him, when I compared his outbursts in those situations to mine or Elle’s, he just shrugged and smiled, stating that he’s a slow learner and that’s okay.

What gets him mad? What shakes him up? What makes those dark eyes darker? Maybe I'll find out some day.

”Min, one more time, please?” Elle pleads, eyes big, chest heaving, t-shirt soaked.

We four hum in agreement.

Practice runs until three pm. as agreed and I realize the rest of my Saturday is free.

Well, I mean… Mac is waiting for the toilet paper.

Minho startles me as his strong hands land on my shoulders.

"YA!" I snap and flip around.

His forehead is coated with sweat, hair sticking to it like running ink. My face expresses the distain for the previous gesture, but it's hard to keep an insulted composure when he looks at me like this; the small, mischievous smile more than familiar.

"Just coming to compliment you, but fine."

"Go on then."

"Why were you late?"

"Ha!"

My exclamation holds confidence, but as soon as Minho's eyebrows reach for the ceiling and his eyes turn worried, the façade shakes. He knows about Mac. He knows as much as I let him, but being a close friend has probably granted him the burden of seeing through my words. It's difficult to hide the calls and constant texts. And the running mascara.

"I'm here you know, just let me know if you need anything." This time his strong hand is gentle as it grips my shoulder. I nod and reach for my bag.

"Thank you, I know. It's all good."

"Why don't we have a proper movie night? Maybe some drinks?" Minho leans down to search for my gaze. Instead of waiting for my answer, he hurries towards Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix and Elle, all four of them already heading out. "You guys free tonight?"

I feel giddy from the idea of spending time with my friends.... beats having to be a delivery girl by a thousand miles. Well, that's not completely fair, I stay at Mac's house so it's only fair that I buy stuff too. But seeing my team smile and nod eagerly and immediately start making plans on what, where and when is like serotonin of a different kind. It's calmer than the energy that comes from dancing, it's more comfortable than explosive, if that makes sense.

So a plan is made: we'll all meet at Minho's house in two hours. I'll get the wine, Hyunjin is in charge of chips, Felix is on dip duty, Jisung will bring the sweets and Elle takes care of the donuts. Minho will order the pizzas.

"Hey Y/N, I uh..." Felix opens the building door for me as we all make our way out. He looks a little nervous, but I can't see why that would be the case. Did I do something to upset him today? Was I rude? Did he want to tell me off for being late again?

"I don't really need to head home, mind if I just come to your house with you and we can head to hyung's together?"

Oh. That's all? I sigh in relief and smile, both at his question and my own thought process. He's never been to my house but I don't see why that's a problem.

"Sure, yeah, let's go catch the bus."

The bus is as full as when I arrived four hours ago. Felix and I are squeezed together, chest to back at first, but I get frustrated with not being able to reply when he talks next to my ear, so I flip around after the first two stops. His neck is in my eyeline, I find his eyes by tilting my head up. I'm so happy he's not Mac.

"You don't wanna shower or anything?"

"Do I smell?" he smirks.

"No! No, that's not what I- I mean just that-"

"Calm down," Felix chuckles, his chest vibrating against mine. His tongue quickly swipes across his lips. "You have a point, I guess I didn't really think about it."

"You can shower at mine," I shrug and feel my phone buzz deep in the pocket of my hoodie. It seems irrelevant, all I'm focused on is watching Felix's cheeks and ears change color. I don't think there's any need to be shy about such things, a shower is such a normal need and I so happen to have one at my place, as well as a clean towel and some shampoo. I always have this need to make people feel at home at my apartment, even if they haven't been there before. My goal is that it's easy for them to be with me and around me if that's a space I want to give them. And Felix has more than earned his space these past months.

Why does every suit wear Sauvage nowadays?

We laugh at nothing, damn near skipping our way to the elevator.

As the doors open to reveal the end of my blissful Saturday standing in the hallway, I find myself wishing that Felix had come home with me any other night. The rhino suddenly leaps onto my torso again, begins a little jig and my feet go a little numb. Tonight sounded too good to be true anyway.

"Where have you been?"

The text from earlier... I could've prevented this. Ignore the question, he knows where I've been.

"Felix, this is Mac, Mac, this is Felix."

Mac doesn't take Felix's outstretched hand, only stares at him up and down. I want to smack his judgmental jawline.

"Oh... uh. Hey, man... what's up?" Felix uses the hand meant for a polite handshake to rub the back of his neck.

"I'm her boyfriend."

"Ex-boyfriend," I specify abruptly, sending a pleading look at Felix to... well, I don't know what.

"What are you?" the owner of the rhino asks, voice as judgmental as his expression.

This is normal. Mac never got along with any of my friends. That's how boyfriends are. Or some boyfriends. We're meant to spend time together by ourselves and then we both keep our own friends as separate entities. He didn't want me to get jealous of his pretty friends. And of course he shouldn't have to see me being happy with other guys.

I fumble with my key and feel Mac's eyes burning my skin very uncomfortably. Maybe if I take too long, Mac will leave?

"Open up, I've been here for like... ten minutes."

"You knew I had practice."

"How was I supposed to remember what time it ends?"

He hasn't remembered before, why would he now? But we didn't make plans this time, but... I did, with my teammates.

"What's he doing here?" 

Mac pushes past me into the apartment, practically shoving me against the door. Felix's arm flies behind my back to stop me from falling.

My place is small, about 25 square feet which is really all I need. I try to keep it tidy, but every corner here screams "hectic lifestyle". Felix takes off his Converse immediately which makes me smile. I probably should be embarrassed by him seeing the laundry and dishes, but who doesn't have those in their apartment? Having two guys in here though... that's a little out of the ordinary.

"Felix and I just came to swing by, we're heading to Minho's for a movie night-"

"What? I thought we were hanging out?"

"I never said that! Minho asked and we all thought it was a great idea-"

”I drove all this way to get you!”

He did. He drove the whole five blocks for me.

”I know, okay,” I sigh and cross my arms. It hurts to turn to look at Felix, whose expression is completely unfamiliar to me. But his eyes aren't on me, they're on the man currently slumping onto my couch, I hear the heels of his shoes hit the small table in front of it. I wish he wouldn't do that.

I step between them. The rhino standing on me makes it hard to move. ”I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I'll just text Minho. I’m so sorry for this Lix… dragging you here…”

Those beautiful brown eyes soften as he turns to me, it almost looks like he's reaching for me.

”You didn’t-”

”Lix? Are you a cat?” Mac laughs at his own quip.

He’s not funny, but at least he tries? I guess. But it’s not funny when it’s aimed at my friend.

”Shut up,” I reply. ”There’s no room for that with so many burgers in your name.”

Felix chuckles low and glances at me, hands in his pockets. I’m happy I make him laugh, it feels like an achieved goal. His smile falls quickly when his gaze does the same; he sees me throwing my bag over my shoulder and my feet inching back towards my discarded shoes next to the door.

”You really shouldn’t try to be funny,” the burger scoffs from the couch, grabbing a fistful of sourcream chips from the bowl on the table. I made him angry with my joke, I knew I shouldn't have said it. ”Or eat these, I thought we talked about this,” he mumbles as they turn to mush in his mouth.

He’s right, we have talked about it. Mac has said many times that he’s noticed how they make my face bloat. He’s right, I’m trying to be a good dancer, after all, I need to look the part.

I hum in response and lean down to tie my laces.

”You ready or what? What’s taking so long?”

”Almost!” I reply fast.

I return to an upright position so quick my head spins, but I have to hurry because Mac is getting impatient. I'm already mentally preparing to head for the door, when a sudden chill runs through me.

”Felix?” I stare at his expression, from the side his eyes look black. I hold out my hand, my trembling fingers reach for his arm but before they make their landing, he steps towards Mac.

”Leave.”

I’ve never heard a voice so low, it’s primitive and raw. Mac freezes in his spot, chips stilling in his mouth.

”Now.”

”Excuse me?”

”Lix, I-”

”No, I’m sorry. Excuse me. Let me be more clear.”

Felix approaches Mac slowly.

”Get off your ass, walk to the door, open it, step out of it and then close it. I don't care what the fuck you get up to after that, but leave my sight right now, or I won't be responsible for my actions.”

Mac looks at Felix, then me. His expression emits complete disbelief. I don't move for an instant, but when I see Felix's head begin to tilt to the left, his back so tense he's shaking, I'm flooded with the strength of the small army he and I form together. I stare back at my ex, eyes ablaze, and cross my arms.

Mac scoffs and stomps toward the exit.

"You're just a mess of red flags, Y/N, psycho friends and all this shit, good luck finding someone to fuck!"

The silence that follows the slammed door is deafening. My hands fall to my sides slowly, the rhino walks away. I can't stop staring at the bowl of chips next to the couch. Why shouldn't I eat those if I like them? Why should I go just because he tells me to? I can find people to fuck me, to love me... I-I think I can. Right now I think I can.

”Thank you.”

”I’m so sorry,” Felix says speedily and his voice overlaps with mine. He pulls me in for a one-sided hug. I can’t respond out of the confusion in my brain.

”Sorry? For what?”

"I know you don't need saving, I just lost it, I'm so sorry if I hurt you by treating you as someone helpless, you're not, at all!"

Only Felix could turn doing something so kind and hot and decent into something to apologize for. I reach for the sides of his head which is now buried in my shoulder. He's still shaking.

"Lix, look at me."

He does.

"You did nothing wrong, thank you. I mean it. He needed to hear that. As did I."

His lower lip trembles.

"Oh come here, silly," I pull him back to the hug he began. Arms flung around my torso tightly, we remain like that and just breathe together until I feel his vibrating muscles calm.

So, that's what he's like when he's mad. That's one of his buttons; he's protective of his friends. Interesting, sort of obvious and very fitting.

Felix has to crouch, almost fold over to have his head reach the crook of my neck. This is the first time he's ever felt tall and small simultaneously, it's endearing. I'm suddenly very conscious about the fact that I haven't showered yet when I feel his nose brush the nape of my neck. My breathing pauses from the feeling. I hope I don't smell. Why did that feel so... intimate?

His arms tighten and he inhales deeply. Shivers travel throughout my existence and I have to force out an exhale.

"Are you okay?" Felix straightens up and focuses all his attention towards my eyes. It's magnetic, I just stare back. His eyes are brown again. I've never noticed that freckle next to his eyebrow.

"Y-Yeah, I'm good..." I mumble and then realize what I said.

The rhino is actually gone. I can breathe. I test the thought in practice and start smiling, the full kind.

"I'm good. I'm good! That felt so, so good! Felix, oh my god. Thank you for standing up to Mac, oh my god, I feel okay, I really do!"

I prance and hop around my apartment, blabbering all the while. My friend laughs aloud with a bright expression, his hip to one side, weight on one leg and hands in his pockets.

"I'm happy to hear it. I'm sorry I got so angry though," he goes serious.

"No, no, I loved it!"

"Huh?"

I stop mid jump and feel like what I just blurted out is floating in front of me like a subtitle. Without knowing my thought process I can see how this could be confusing.

"He's gone," I sigh and turn to look at Felix. "He's gone, and it's good. I love that you did what would've taken me another six months of my life to finally do."

The whole team knows we started dancing together around the time me and Mac "broke up". I watch realization spread onto Lix's handsome features and wonder what it is he realized. That I was too weak to be alone? That I basically lied about the break up and that I've been seeing Mac this whole time? That I'm an idiot? That I'm pathetic?

"Has he been like that to you the whole time?" His eyes are dark again.

That's a tricky question in a sense. I really want to say he wasn't like that at first. That he changed. But maybe he was always like that and I was just too into him to see it. We disappeared from my friends' sight so quickly that no one in my social group really ever got to know him before the bigger fights began. Maybe they would've seen that he was a walking red flag.

"I'm not sure, actually. I think... it may have changed around the time he found out about my anxiety," my voice is small. I find refuge on the bed because the couch seems to still have his ass print on it. "I-I... Well, what really helps me when I get anxious, like have an attack or something, is physical contact. Mac made me feel like... I guess he made me feel like he was the only one who wants to help me. So even though I always felt heavy with him, and I did, truly, I feel so small and- well, just wrong when I'm with him it just... It felt like a better option than the wrong way I feel when I'm by myself. Whenever being alone got too much and I needed someone to hold me, hug me, touch me... love me, I'd go back to him. I guess I think it's better than being alone. And sometimes I just freeze and stare at everything this effects in my life; my family, friends, the team... I love dancing with you guys so much, but if I keep being late and just fucking everything up, I don't know what'll happen... Great, here I go. I'm sorry."

Tears have begun to run down my cheeks all the way to my hoodie. I didn't look at Felix once during my monologue, it felt so personal and self-reflective that I should've been on a leather futon in a therapist's office. All of a sudden he lands in front of me, knees colliding with the floor.

"Don't apologize, please."

Felix's hands envelope mine and he squeezes them gently. "I'm so sorry you've had to go through all this. If I'd known... He's an asshole, you don't need him. You have so many people who'd be happy to help you with whatever you need. People who adore you."

His hands protecting mine feels comforting, but there's something very exciting about his touch. I'm happy I'm crying, because it hides the real reason I think I'm shivering right now. But it's Felix... I mean it's Lee Felix, he's my friend. My teammate. I mean... have I thought about what he's hiding underneath his clothes, what he'd look like out of them and under me? Sure, yeah, of course. Obviously. But never in a serious manner. I haven't even let myself think about having a new crush. There's only been Mac. The one whose supposed to be the only one to love and take care of me... I imagine what sex would be like with everyone I dance with, I guess. How can someone who's been having sex regularly be so horny? Maybe it speaks to the satisfaction level of the activity. Or the one offering the services. I digress. What is it about Felix that makes our contact so monumental all of a sudden? 

And now I know he can get mad, his eyes do get darker. And it happened as he protected me. I loved it. It's like I've unlocked a new level.

My tears cease, the last two fall when I smile.

"Thanks, Lix, that's sweet."

"I mean it, I... We really care for you. And if you ever need company or anything, you know, just call me- or any of us!"

His eyes haven't left our joint hands once.

This would be the perfect moment to kiss him.

As if reading my mind, his eyes find mine. They're big and beautiful, glowing. He's glowing.

This is the wrong time to kiss him, or anyone. It's not fair, I'm just fragile and excited and frazzled, and anything that could happen now could just as easily be me trying to control these roaring emotions with something concrete. That something should be taking a shower, not kissing my friend.

But he's so beautiful and staring at me and just right there, looking so ready for the taking.

SHOWER, WOMAN. DO IT NOW.

My hands fly to Felix's cheeks and his eyes light up even brighter. I smack a dry kiss onto his forehead and get up clumsily.

"Thank you, you're amazing. Really, I'm so happy we're friends," I chirp, heading to the closet to grab fresh towels for us both. I toss the yellow one to him just as he's getting up, eyes now on the ground, the corners of his lips seem to curve down. He must not like forehead kisses. "Let's talk more okay, I really do want to go through this properly, but I really need a shower first. Just make yourself at home."

An accepting hum follows me to the bathroom.

I'm quick when I shower, but I'm happy that Felix took my comment to heart and relaxed enough to sit on my bed in the five minutes I spent away from the shared space. He smiles quickly and heads straight for the shower after me. The door slams shut. It feels aggressive.

Did he look sad? Mad? Annoyed? I'm not the best at going through this, deep conversations I mean. How do I express how grateful I am for what he did? I've never been in this situation, having someone kick another someone out of my apartment, having someone stand up for me. Granted, it was a coincidence Felix was here and saw Mac in action, I'm lucky to have friends who would've kicked his ass months ago if I'd given them the go-ahead. But maybe Felix wanted me to kiss him? But why would he? Would that have been a good thank you? Did he feel like I wasn't being fair? That I'd kiss someone like Mac but not him? Not Felix... surely he wouldn't- I pray he doesn't think that. He's not the guy who thinks I should "repay" him. He's not.

While my mind rolls me down this very steep hill I somehow find my way into comfortable yet clean clothes. We should really get going.

"Hey, mind if I borrow a hoodie? I didn't bring a change of clothes and would be nice to throw on something fresh."

I can't breathe, he's gorgeous, the towel flung over his other shoulder while his sweats hang low on his defined hips.

SPEAK.

"Yeah, yeah, sure, yeah, of course, that's fine."

I toss him a hoodie just like I did the towel fifteen minutes prior, he catches it just as easily. Only this time I can see the muscles that work while that movement happens.

"We should really get going."

We should, and we do. Felix is a tacit conversational partner the entire way to Minho's, mostly because I'm so nervous I'm blabbing his ears off. The quiet, very clean creature next to me doesn't seem to mind the listening role though, so I keep going until we get to Minho's apartment.

"What took you so long?" a fresh-out-of-the-shower Minho groans loudly.

"We're early!" I reply and shove a wine bottle into each of his free hands. Felix chuckles. "Jinnie, Ji and Elle aren't even here yet!"

"I'm hungry now, and I assumed you'd be earlier to make up for being late again today!"

We make our way to the kitchen.

"YA! You know I'm sorry!"

"Your apologies mean nothing to me."

"Hyung," Felix shakes his head solemnly.

Everything goes quiet. Minho's look jumps from me to Felix, obviously annoyed he doesn't understand, not knowing what he's supposed to not talk about. It's really not fair, and I don't want Felix thinking he's not allowed to talk about what happened, how he helped me.

Fine, I'll just come clean.

"I've been late because I've been sleeping over at Mac's. A-And sleeping with Mac."

Minho's eyes widen.

 "And when I do that I... I loose sense of everything else. I'm sorry, Min."

"But we're gonna help her now," Felix's soft smile makes me tear up again. "So she'll realize she doesn't need him."

I believe Felix.

"Felix kicked him out of my apartment today."

Minho's whole being brighten's up. "Really?"

"Yeah, and I'll do my best to keep him out."

"And we'll help," Min replies and reaches out his hand. "Phone."

After a moment of misplaced incredulous staring, as if I didn't know the next step was necessary, I hand it over. With a few calculated, overjoyed swipes and clicks, Minho does his part to ensure that Mac's gone. I have the best friends. The thought floats in my head like a proud flag I proudly fly, but then the door bell rings. And ten minutes later it does the same thing. And I only get more proud from there.

The rest of the night is amazing. I haven't felt this light in millenniums. The five of us indulge in wine, chips, pizza, donuts and movies. It's exactly what life should feel like. Sometimes I catch Felix staring at me. His response to our gazes connecting is either a swift redirection of his head or a goofy face. I'm sure I made him uncomfortable somehow. Maybe he thinks that I know what that thing was and wants me to not feel bad about it. Because he's kind and selfless that way. But the thing is that I don't know what the damn thing is. The drink swirling in my wine glass isn't wine, it changed into a demonic version of a Gin & Tonic two full glasses ago. It's Sprite and Gin, the two ingredients Minho has in his apartment, if you don't count milk. Which I do not. The blasphemy still goes down fairly easily, and I'm finding it harder and harder to stop staring at my beautiful, blonde savior. I need to know what made him make those faces as well as how he feels about everything that went down - and didn't go down - at my apartment.

I'm pretty sure my brain is demanding things I shouldn't really demand of him. He doesn't owe me anything, it's the other way around really. But I don't want to repay him physically. I mean I do... but only as a disguise to hide the fact I really do want to touch him and feel him. Okay, I'm going over the rails. I set down my glass, slowing down the drinking to make my thoughts calmer, but... when did I empty this? Never mind.

"Y/N-ya, it's almost one, you need to go or you're going to miss the last bus," Minho's voice rings from the kitchen. One? How can it already be one in the morning? "Wanna sleep over?" he continues after a slight pause, mouth obviously full of something. I've taken shelter in his lovely home countless times, but somehow I feel like going home. Today has been such a hurricane.

"Nah, thanks," I get up and skip to the kitchen, pulling my best friend in for a hug. "But brunch tomorrow?"

Minho nods against my shoulder. He hugs me tighter than usual. He utters the next sentences without lifting his head.

"I'm fucking glad that he's gone. I wish I'd known you were still... Anyway, call me, Felix, anyone else when you get low okay?"

My turn to move my head up and down. I hear the quietest, most fragile "I love you" before he straightens up and ruffles my hair sloppily. "Get going, or you'll have to run!"

I give Hyunjin, Jisung and Elle their goodbye squeezes, but as I'm rashly moving closer to Felix's torso on the couch, he captures my hands in his and fixes his eyes on mine, this time obviously wanting me to notice. They're slightly glossy, a little red, as is his nose. An intense feeling burns through me as his skin glues to mine, identical to this afternoon.

"I was thinking of heading out too, can I make sure you get home okay?"

I swallow and nod.

We stand about twenty feet from the bus stop as we watch the vehicle drive by, almost empty. I let out a laugh. Last night bus, cab costs an arm and a leg, walking takes an hour and it's freezing. So...

"Well, back to Minho's I guess," I rub my hands together and glance at Felix, ready to turn back to the mini party only a few minutes back the way we came. "I can wait for your bus with you if you want,  where does it-"

"I can walk, I... I live pretty close."

"But..." I mumble and stare at the imaginary Google Maps opening in my brain. "You could've just gone home to shower today then, you didn't have to come to my house. I thought you lived so far that it wouldn't have made any sense for you to..." my voice disappears when the shyest and most embarrassed smile I've ever witnessed starts to adorn his features.

"Yeah... I live like, fifteen minutes from here. I just... I don't know, I just wanted to hang out. With you."

"Why?"

Felix laughs, loud, incredulous, glancing up at the dark heavens. "Why? 'Cause you're amazing, that's why. I've been... shit, okay... I've been wanting to hang out alone with you for weeks. I've had a crush on you since- well I guess since the first time I saw you in class months ago. It was just physical at first, I think, but then we got into the same team and you just... every day you just turn out to be cooler and cooler and I've just been gathering the guts to fucking ask you out... I was going to ask today, but then we made these plans, so I just used that to try to steal a few moments alone with you. But then..."

I gulp.

"We met that asshole who made me lose my shit, and I'm still just so sorry I got angry, but I just needed to get him out, I mean, how could he talk to you like that? Treat you like that? And then when you cried and I held your hands for the first time, all I wanted to do was kiss you, and I thought you wanted the same thing, and I'm so sorry for that."

We've made our way to lean against the apartment block's stone wall side by side, eyes on the ground. But the flood of questions that take over my brain at this apology physically fling my gaze to him.

"I'm sorry I was thinking of something like that when you were so vulnerable. You obviously didn't want that, you made it really clear with how fast you left the room and how nervous you've been since... I made you uncomfortable, and I'm so, so sorry. It was never my intention. And... well, the more I think about it, the sillier the thought of you wanting to go out with me feels-"

"Why? Because you're kind? Handsome? Funny? Talented? Intelligent?" I blurt and turn to stand in front of him. "Felix..." I whisper and take his hands into mine, suddenly shy again, since I can't seem to look up. "You didn't make me uncomfortable. Not at all. The reason I did this," I repeat the forehead kiss, only slower. His body goes fully stiff. "And ran into the shower was so I wouldn't kiss you right then. It didn't feel fair."

"What do you mean?" his voice is low and hoarse, chin tilting up so his eyes reach mine. How can someone look this ethereal?

"Because... I didn't want you to think that I was only doing it because I was trying to get over Mac. I haven't let myself think about anyone else since we started going out and I... Now, I feel desperate to just forget about him and find something better. I want to believe I deserve it, it's a lot of work but because of you, what you did today, I think I can. I just... desperately need to get him out of my system. I want something more."

"You deserve it. You deserve so much," he whispers and I watch his Adam's apple bounce.

How does alcohol give me so much confidence? Four drinks ago I would've turned as red as a tomato and moved away, but now my eyes stay on the man in front of me as he slowly straightens up and is suddenly towering over my short form. But when Felix towers, it's safe and strong, not intimidating in the slightest.

"I'd like to help you think about someone else."

"I want to kiss you," I bring our hands up, placing them between our chests. "But only because I want to kiss you, Felix, not just anyone. You."

"B-But I don't want you to feel like-"

"Shh... I don't. I want you. I just don't want to hurt you, because I don't know what my heart can take at the moment, I can't promise that I'll be a good person to date right now, I-"

"What if..." Felix gently lifts my chin higher with his thumb as his voice trails off softly. "We just... kiss good night, and then I'll take you on a date tomorrow... Let's see how it goes and... take it from there. Sound good?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah?" he grins before leaning down to press his lips against mine. Right before they touch, he hesitates. He's kind. Too kind. His breath beckons me, calls for me to close the gap.

They're so soft. I need to grip hold of his hoodie just to stay upright as we melt together. Felix's hands pull me closer by my waist, I feel him crumpling up my hoodie too. He tastes like sprite, it's heavenly. The good night kiss turns into a much longer goodbye, as we slowly explore how our lips and tongues fit together. I could stay here forever. I can't remember anyone I've ever gone on a date with, dated, let alone kissed before this. It's heavenly. It's all just... heavenly.

Today, I found two things that make Felix's eyes darken. That's really exciting. They're almost black when they open as we pull away from each other, but return to the gentle chocolate shade when he smiles.

"Good night," I whisper and give him one more peck, which almost turns into a another session.

I wave shyly as I watch him disappear behind the corner. I don't know how I'll get to sleep. Or how I'm going to explain this grin that just won't. Go. Down.

The next day I have brunch with Minho, and Felix and I head to the movies in the evening. That date turns into another, and another... and another. By the time Christmas comes around, we've been together almost every day. I've found a lot of things that make Felix's eyes darken.

But since we've been together, I haven't been late to practice once. Okay, once, but that time we were late together.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #lee felix imagines #lee felix fanfic #lee felix #skz felix #felix x reader #felix fanfic

[embe95]

Teach me, please

Synopsis: "You did a dance with Lee Know. Teach me too, please." Sure, she could teach Hwang Hyunjin, what could go wrong?

Going for a steamy vibe, smutty but not smut.

Words: 3,500 (whenhowwhatttt)

”God- Hyunjin! You scared me!” Y/N smacked the tall man’s arm with force and in his usual manner he topled with a dramatic palm against the ”bruised” spot.

”Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled after dancing a few steps backwards. His accent fit his laugh, the soft ”r” sound truly popping as he smiled.

The practice room was empty apart from their presence. Y/N wanted to practice a new step her team was developing so she could then teach it to the members later that week.

She’d been part of the choreography team at JYP for three months and thirteen days. The reason she was counting was simple; in 17 days she would be told whether she’d be accepted to the team permanently. A four-month trial period was gruesome because the constant fear of getting kicked out every single day made even her steady heartbeat irregular. She craved for this position, had drooled over the idea of being part of a choreographing team ever since she’d graduated two years prior. Moving to Seoul was a massive leap, but she’d never been afraid of being on her own. Why not in another country?

Korean language though… another ball game, just a true up-hill climb. Luckily dance was so universal, and most groups knew English well enough for Y/N to be able to get her points through. Stray Kids in particular.

She wanted this job. She’d learn Korean, make this place her home. She was determined, focused and dead-set on doing this right.

One thing Y/N wasn’t was jumpy. Her vibe was more on the calm side, but Hwang Hyunjin… he had an effect on her. Or rather what her boss told her when she’d started to work for JYP had an effect on her.

”Do not, under any circumstances, have inproper relations with an idol. They are not allowed to date. If you have inproper relations with an idol, you will be fired.”

Like that doesn’t make it sound hot. Taboo things were never that appealing to her before but lord have mercy, all of a sudden breaking rules sounded like such a delicious idea.

At first it was easy to brush off because the thought of Hyunjin looking at her the way she tried not to look at him felt entirely laughable. But then she started noticing things that made her senses heighten, and the thought wasn’t so ridiculous all of a sudden. Small touches, lingering smiles, the way he’d look at her through the practice room mirror and then run a hand through his hair or stretch his neck.

And those body rolls. The pops.

Shake. It. Off.

It could absolutely be entirely her imagination, it really could. She prided herself in being able to read others, but this attraction, this shortness of breath, this amount of gulping and shallow breaths could just be clouding Y/N's judgement. She was smart enough to recognize the possibility of him not feeling the same pull towards her as she did for him, and yet... 

In any case, she was happy to say they'd become friends over the time she'd spent in his country. He was a very professional, talented man, as were all the members he worked with.  

”I was sure you’d be at home by now,” she smiled, flailing her arms around loosely to warm up her body to at least the same temperature as her cheeks and ears. Her hoodie bounced around as she moved.

Hyunjin replied with a smile a kin to hers, shaking his head.

”I waited for you.”

Y/N’s body froze for a millisecond before she forced it to move. A clumsy attempt at a calf stretch was all her blurry mind could conjure, but it would have to do.

”Why?” Her eyes stayed glued to the floor.

If this had been any other flirtatious situation she would’ve held her head high up, looked the person straight in the eye.

But looking at Hyunjin straight in the eye would get her fired.

”You did a dance with Lee Know.”

Hyunjin’s voice was slow, every English syllable calculated. The tone was serious, maybe a little hurt?

She swung her left arm to the side, grabbing it with the right one for a proper shoulder stretch.

Every move was automated, she was so focused on where this was going. The possibility of his jealousy was just… well, it was intriguing.

Hyunjin was a man who could snap his fingers and be surrounded by a tidal wave of adoration in the form of fans. It was strange to hear this colour painting over his words.

”Yeah, you mean the one for the Mnet special?”

He nodded. She caught it through the mirror.

Y/N and Lee Know had a project together which was some of the most professional, intense and educational shit she’d ever gotten the chance to participate in. They choreographed a routine for Lee Know and another idol, but it was a ”couple’s choreo” with a love arc. The mixture between elements from street, modern and classic Kpop moves made it as interesting as it was. Teaching the two how to move with each other in addition to moving in sync, which they were already flawless at, was a challenge, because it’s not as common in Korean routines to include a lot of touching from a more romantic, sensual point if view. They studied improv for a while before taking the technique and spinning it into an intense, unique choreo.

Y/N was so proud of it, definitely in her top three creations.

”What about it?”

”Teach me too. Please.”

Hyunjin’s face remained serious as his chin lowered. The gaze that bounced through the mirror was more demanding than pleading. Annoyed because he didn’t know the technique yet, because he didn’t like how nervous asking this made him, because she’d danced with Lee Know so much more than with him. Alone. While he was only left with one eighth of her attention as she taught the entire group.

”Y-You want to learn the choreo?”

The stutter made him think he had the upper hand, it was difficult to control the upward swing of his lips.

"If it isn't a problem, then yes. Please."

She was supposed to be working on that week's choreo. Say no, just say not now. Later, some other time. I have to work now, Mr. Hwang.

"Sure!"

Fuck.

"Warm up?"

Y/N couldn't recount a single one of the moves she did during the entire three songs they warmed up for. She probably stretched, or something. Whatever she did, she was warmed up as "Red Lights" ended. Hyunjin's hoodie now clad the sofa instead of his toned torso, though the over-sized Celine shirt left a lot to the imagination. Imagination is exactly where Y/N's thoughts had to stay if she wanted to keep this job. There was no scenario where bringing anything into action would be a good idea. The room felt three times smaller than when she'd entered, she wondered if he felt the walls bringing them closer together as well. It wouldn't feel so anxiety-inducing if this were a situation where something could happen. Where she could do the full splits without feeling like it's a very sexual, show off move. Everytime she bent down she felt like a flirt, like she was sending some signal.

To be fair, she was. But not purposefully per se, these were beneficial moves when warming up, but her pants would light ablaze if she'd claim she wasn't hoping Hyunjin would look over whenever her ass was in the air or when she was stretching her neck or warming up the spine with some body rolls. What? They're efficient.

And it wasn't like Hyunjin wasn't putting on a show, with all the stretching and rolling and heavy breathing. That. Fucking. Neck. And hair.

She could still be wrong, of course. Her hormones could be controlling her eyes, and his "show" was just him being effortlessly hot.

And then they moved onto the choreography, and the room just got smaller. But as soon as they were a few eights in, Y/N noticed that there was in fact something about this genre of dancing that was unfamiliar to the man now catching her and spinning her around. It was exactly what she instructed, but it was missing something.

"Hyunjin," she smiled the dance teacher smile, one she didn't think he'd ever received from her before. He huffed, like he knew something was off. "We don't have to do this if you're not comfortable."

His dark eyes traveled from the mirror to her face in panic, resistance.

"Okay!" she raised her palms understandingly. "Okay, let's continue. But you have to trust me."

"I trust you," he answered in confusion.

"I mean," she continued, teaching mode now taking over, thank goodness. Easier to keep her thoughts in check when she wasn't focusing on his hair sticking to his neck. Or the way she got to- had to direct his hands around her body. "Trust that it's okay to be intense all the way with the movement. You're... you become almost mechanic when you touch me, before and after you're doing great. Do you get it?"

It wasn't as though the man wasn't a professional, there were obviously so many choreographies in their repertoaire where the members were connected. But this was different, sensuality was never really a part of those moments. It was part of Hyunjin and his movements, absolutely, which is why she was sure he could learn this, they'd just have to get more comfortable.

A nod. Hyunjin stared at his hands.

"You're great, really. It's just... hmm... how should I explain it? Dancing as a duet is like-"

"Sex?"

"What?"

"Wha- nothing! Sorry, sorry," Hyunjin stuttered and spun around to reach for his water bottle.

Hard to keep a teacher mode going in an environment like this. Had it been anyone else, had she been back in her hometown, she probably would've used the same metaphor. It was like sex, in a lot of ways. The trust, the intimacy. The sweating. Stop it.

Did Hyunjin have sex? Did any of them? Of course, what are you thinking? Eight adult guys, the probability of all of them being asexual felt beyond impossible. There was no rule that was strong enough to stop them, no contract or anything. Sex was also a need, after all. And there were plenty of people willing to be on the receiving end- SWEET JESUS, stop it.

Y/N cleared her throat, her middle and index finger scratching at her scalp. You're the teacher here now. Teacher.

"Why don't you just put on some music and I'll try to show you?"

Hyunjin nodded, lowering the bottle and making his way to the back of the room to pick a tune. He stayed still for a moment and glanced back at her for a few seconds before seemingly deciding on what he wanted to go with.

Taste.

"I put it on repeat, so I don't have to run here. Is that okay?"

Really? Are you kidding me? Why this song? Out of all the songs on this planet? And right after Red Lights?

"Yeah, great, good idea. Okay, so..." she cleared her throat once again and made a nervous motion inviting him closer. He was quick to obey. Y/N raised one of her hands.

"This exercise is called 'Magnetism', and the idea is that there's always some part of us touching." This sounds so dirty. "So, if you put your hands against mine..."

It felt like her entire body turned into a magnet, she wanted to attach herself to the beautiful man in front of her.

Make you feel my love, come and taste me now....

"G-Good," she cleared her throat. Yet again. At this rate the small sounds would turn into coughing fits. "Now, let's just move."

They began the movement, palms together, softly transferring the connection to their wrists, arms, upper backs, necks, foreheads. The shift in Hyunjin's muscles was easy to spot as he realized the point of the task; it was more motion than dance, and it required him to let her be his equal instead of trying to guide where the improvisation was going. Suddenly the instigator disappeared. It was like there was a coin they were moving around together; if the connection broke, it would fall. Neither could state how long they kept going, sometimes pausing to just hold their palms together, sometimes taking a moment to sway as their shoulders were connected. It was unlike anything Hyunjin had ever attempted before. Y/N felt like it was her first time truly understanding the point of the exercise, even though she had taught it countless times prior.

The song just kept going, around and around.

When the star-crossed dancers found each other pausing forehead to forehead, their eyes met.

He has such inviting eyes, such a gorgeous gaze. How is he this pretty? I need to... maybe if I just lean in- 

"Great!" she coughed and hopped backwards like a bunny.

Hyunjin straightened back up swiftly, his left hand flying to the back of his neck and eyes wandering anywhere but Y/N.

She explained through shallow breaths and frantic nodding that he did, indeed, seem to get to point, and they could now try going into the more dance-based version of the exercise. Hyunjin made a small Pokemon joke about how they were evolving.

"So, since the choreography is one where you are supposed to lead, I'll let you take charge more." What in the what? "I'll just be here, just touch me when it feels natural." When touching feels natural... What in the actual fuck Y/N? Why don't you just strip for him?

The only way to stop herself from making an Y/N-shaped hole in the wall was to start dancing to the beat she felt, which she began doing right after seeing a nod from Hyunjin as a signal that he understood. It was instinct for Y/N to close her eyes when she improved, and right now, it seemed safe. Dancing to Taste felt like a mating call if she was at a risk of looking at the lean, sweaty dancer in the room with her.

If before she couldn't have counted how many times Taste had repeated during their magnetism practice even if her life depended on it, this time it couldn't have been more than two eight counts before magnets seemed to do what they do: pull. The walls were close, emitting steam.

”Is it okay if I touch you here?” Hyunjin asked softly, slowly. He stood behind her, eyes fixed on her through the mirror. Y/N's knees buckled when their gazes met.

Hyunjin’s hand was on her waist, a warm, strong hold already forming although he restrained himself from using any pressure.

Y/N opted for a nod. There was no way in any form of hell any sensible answer in any of the languages that either of them knew would come out of her.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Don’t make me bad, make me bad, I’m addicted to you…

Why this song, Hyunjin? Y/N should have stopped it. She should've just taught him the choreography. Just let him do it the way he was doing it. Why go deeper? She should've just left it. Or she should've said "no" from the get-go.

But... then he began swaying her.

”Good?”

Good? Perfect, annoyingly and mezmerizingly so. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, Hyunjin was so smooth as a dancer no matter what he did, so the fact that he would be good at this… This was a bad idea.

And yet they continued.

”Mhmm... See? It’s like a magnet, a force between the two bodies that are sharing the dance.”

Just look at me baby, day and night... ”Force…” he repeated under his breath.

”Yeah, mhm,” she gulped. What a word.

Then there were no more words. Just the two of them lost in a track of Hyunjin's own design. He knew each beat, every nuance, and he knew how to use them. The idea of him leading didn't last long, soon the balance that had existed before streched between them again, a symbiosis of two creatures switching between traveling together and nearly fighting for dominance, at least to an outsider it would seem so. They danced around the room, sometimes physically connected and sometimes not, yet always vigilantly aware of the presence of the other. Hyunjin's body rolled against hers, while her back arched and hands painted the air. The same hands then found their path to his shoulders, his grip returned to her hips and he lifted her, spinning around. Hyunjin's eyes never left her. Y/N's stomach was against his chest and kept sliding down against his torso as she lowered gradually. Y/N moved away from him with an artistic glide. 

The room felt like it was the perfect size for them.

She felt a grip around her wrist as Hyunjin spun her back to him with unexpected strength and urgency. Her hands landed against his heaving chest with force, his instinctively slid to her sides.

They froze there, eyes transfixed, transmitting the fantasy of what could happen now.

But it can't. 

”Bad idea,” she panted, turning away from him.

Time to go.

”It’s not.”

He grabbed her by the shoulder and swung her around so confidently that there was no stopping it.

The kiss was tameless, they were primal creatures moving on pure instinct.

Y/N didn't have to wonder anymore; Hyunjin wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

She squealed in surprise as he picked her up, the wall quickly met her back. They both felt overwhelmed, worked up by what had just happened between them, frustration from weeks of pining now exploding. She moaned when he dragged his tongue along her jaw, the salt of her sweat then on her own lips. The sweat, the music, his lips, hands and tongue, it was all so much. Hyunjin felt like he might faint from the shocks traveling through him, but all the while he was sure her lips and skin were a necessary ambrosia, the source of all happiness.

"I want you," he growled as they scrambled to the sofa.

There were no words to form, only moans. It felt better than she'd ever hoped to have him so close, to touch him, be touched by him, there was so much relief and release coursing in her veins starting from each place he touched. But the need didn't go away, she wanted more. This had to be the beginning of a new addiction.

No, this- this can't happen.

"Jin," Y/N gasped.

"Say that again," Hyunjin groaned against her neck, hands sliding under her hoodie, feeling the delicious sweat coating her stomach and ribs.

"Hyunjin, w-we need to- oh- we need to stop."

He froze instantly and brought his face in level with hers. Their breathing was in sync, heavy and fast.

"Gwaenchanha?"

She tried to clear her throat.

"I'm going to get fired."

I really want to keep kissing you so I don't really care but I will care as soon as we stop. Fuck, why are you so attractive? 

Hyunjin looked between her mezmerizing, lust-filled eyes. He leaned down and pressed his swollen lips against hers so softly it felt like pure love and adoration.

"Okay," he whispered when the kiss ended. "I don't want to stop, but I understand."

Neither made a move to leave the sofa. Y/N felt a heavy mix of sadness and frustration pressing on her chest and wanted Hyunjin to replace it. Their breathing slowed, and the equally saddened and frustrated man let his weight rest on her entirely, embracing her as if to say goodbye. Their moment was over so soon, the tension had a brief window to errupt but would now have to be contained again.

I can do this, I can do this, I'm a professional. Y/N kept repeating sensible thoughts.

But they were soon replaced. Hyunjin's body against hers was an intense, all-consuming sensation. She couldn't help but start to grind her hips upward to increase the friction.

"Y/N?" Hyunjin uttered through a moan.

They quickly rushed to their feet, practically in sync.

"T-Thank you."

"Yeah, mhm, thank you, yeah, and I'm sorry. We should- yeah, this was... fun. You're great and uh- yeah."

As she turned to go grab her things, Hyunjin followed and took her hand to press their palms together.

"Dancing together... with you," he started, slowly putting the sentence together. "...is like sex."

Y/N swallowed, speechless. How could she respond to that? Yes, agreed. Let's never do it again then. Good talk. We really can't be around each other after this, fuck-

"It is enough. Please.... teach me more later?" his tone was hopeful, the shyness in stark comparison with how intimate they'd just been.

Y/N could only nod, filled with distrust in her ability to form a sensible reply when he looked at her the way he did. They left the practice room together before going their separate ways.

Hyunjin really did mean it when he said it. As it turned out during the years, it really wasn't enough. But oh, the choreographies they created together...

#stray kids hyunjin #stray kids #stray kids fiction #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids oneshot #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fanfic

[embe95]

It's Flirting!

Lee Minho drabble, yey <3 I just had an idea and went with it, had a lot of fun, so much so that it is currently 2.30am and I should be asleep.

Word count: 3,413 (whooooooops)

I really want to be where she is, just be close. Maybe even ask her out properly? Would she want me to?

I haven’t heard from her in days.

And suddenly I’m worried that I may have done something or said something that could have offended or hurt her. That maybe I went too far with a joke or made her feel uncomfortable.

That maybe I’ve read it all completely wrong and she doesn’t feel the same way in the slightest. That maybe she hates me. That she’s already secretly married to someone and just hasn’t told any of us.

”Calm. The fuck. Down,” I growl, throwing my phone against the couch. I hear it bounce and hit the carpet at the exact moment Chan comes out of his room.

”You good?”

”Mmm,” I voice a somewhat dissatisfied sounding consonant and keep my head in my hands.

”Minho?”

”She still hasn’t answered.” The sentence is almost inaudible but he catches it like a pro.

”Dude, it’s a group chat, she’s probably busy.”

Chan heads to the fridge and apparently grabs the carton of OJ, because the next thing I hear is probably heard by everyone who lives in the building.

”AGAIN? JISUNG I SWEAR TO GOD!”

A door locks at the end of the hallway.

”Why does he do this? Jesus… fucking empty. Every time…”

”You know he’ll buy two just to say sorry.”

”Yeah, yeah…”

I blow air out of my nose and toss him the half full banana milk I just drank from.

My phone still doesn’t buzz. Did I break it? No, surely not. Why isn’t she answering?

”Thanks. Like I was saying, she’s probably just busy. You gotta message her directly. Don’t count on the group chat, she isn’t that active on there anyway.”

He’s right. But I won’t tell him that. I can’t text her.

I stare out the window at the wintery city. The frame kinda makes all of it look like a painting; the snow fall dilutes and blurs all lines and makes things softer and more abstract. She’s probably having hot chocolate at the university library, maybe from her cat-themed thermos. Maybe she decided to splurge a little and got a fancy Starbucks salted caramel version.

I want to buy her hot chocolate every day. If only she would text me.

”You think she’s at the library?”

Chan’s brows furrow as he stares back at me. The look seems to be something along the lines of ”you’re creepy” and ”how the hell should I know”.

”Never mind. Jisung!”

My friend’s massive head of black hair is visible before anything else, then his eyes peek from behind the frame.

”Huh?”

Chan takes the opportunity to chuck the empty orange juice carton at the figure, who throws his hands up haphazardly. It does nothing to block the attack so the inevitable happens and it collides with his torso.

”YA! I’m sorry, I’ll get more when I go out!”

Our eldest roommate says nothing, just points a finger at Mr. Han Jisung with such vigor that even his nostrils flare.

”Did you need me?” Jisung’s scared eyes find me, the corners of his mouth rise nervously.

I’m happy I remembered to buy the milk I promised.

Why isn’t she answering?

”Yeah, have you talked to Y/N today?”

He cocks a brow and nods, slowly, hesitantly.

”Yeeees…” One word becomes as long as a sentence as his lips begin to curl up into a smirk. ”Whyyyyy?”

I didn’t think asking him would make him stare at me like this. It’s an innocent question isn’t it?

”Minho and Y/N sitting in a tree…” Chan’s soft mumbling is accompanied by a little dance, his arms swing back and forth, elbows bent.

I’m pretty sure my ears are as pink as his hoodie and I don’t like it.

”Shut up!”

”K-I-S-I-N-G-G… wait…” Jisung mumbles but I can’t see the face that is joined with Chan’s amused bark because my eyes are rolling.

”Never mind.”

”Man, sorry, sorry! Okay. Yeah, I talked to her, she’s at the library getting ready for next week’s exam.”

I knew it. My eyes find the window again. I should study too, probably, I mean… there’s gotta be something I need to read books for.

Why do I suddenly feel like going out into that mess of a weather? Getting all dressed up, throwing on layer upon layer, and I probably need to change, these sweats won’t do. Why am I just out of the blue feeling like I should head to the nearest Starbucks for some salted caramel hot chocolate? It’s because of her. I want to be where she is right now. I’ve wanted it for weeks.

Is it a bad idea? Would she want me there even though she hasn’t reacted to any of my messages in the group chat today?

She wouldn’t care if I wear sweats when I walk in, she doesn’t care about what people wear. She’d say she just wants me to be comfortable. But maybe she wouldn’t care if I came or not.

”Why do you ask?”

Chan and Jisung are both staring at me. I’m usually pretty sensitive to people’s attention but maybe I was traveling too far in my mind.

”I just… well I figured she was- I just wanted to see if- I mean maybe I could-”

”Want me to dial for you while you struggle to the end of that sentence?”

”You think I should call her?”

Jisung is obviously confused by the question which did indeed come out way more enthusiastic than I intended.

He had probably been preparing for a punch, a glare or some common form of my affection.

”Y-Yeah dude, if you want to, sure. Or you could just go surprise her,” he shrugs. As if he’d read my mind. As if it’s the easiest thing in the world. For him it probably feels like it, his track record with charming gestures is undefeated.

”That’s a great idea man!” Chan chimes in with his two cents after finishing the banana milk. ”But Minho, you gotta be nice.”

”Huh?”

”You act like… how should I put this… you act like a baby around her?”

”What?”

How can he say that, what is he on about? I mean… I can’t say I act totally normal right now, it’s hard to when she’s always smiling and laughing and hugging and breathing and dancing and sitting on my lap and flipping her hair around. And breathing.

”What the fuck does that mean?”

Chan looks down and crinkles his nose.

”I mean no offense man, it’s just that if you want to go have a romantic library date, you might want to- I don’t know- try not to snap at her so much?”

Snap? I don’t… do I? I mean I joke around and all but… Have I done or said something that actually offended her? Maybe I went too far with a joke. Or made her feel uncomfortable.

I’m right back to where I started. My brain is doing loops. Fuck.

Of course she doesn’t want to answer my texts. Why would she? If I’ve been a dick then… Fuck!

Jisung comes closer, at first I think he’s going to come hug me or something but instead he slumps onto the couch. Chan leans on the kitchen island situated behind the large, grey furniture.

The younger of the two looks deep in thought, like he’s reminiscing. ”Mmm… He does have point.”

There’s a flow of negativity in the room suddenly and I need them to specify their claims quickly and clearly, a request I then voice.

”I mean, yeah, you joke with all of us and we love you for it…”

”But maybe with Y/N it just gets a little…”

”Childish?” Chan’s voice is overly high and gentle, like a child confessing to a stupid thing they did.

It's like his words press the rewind button on a tape of all the moments I've shared with her. I see it all. What goes on in my head doesn't match what comes out. She sits on my lap, and I feel like I want to pull her closer and smell her hair. The weight feels comforting, I'm close enough to gently kiss her neck. Instead, I complain about how heavy she is. She comes to our house to watch movies and brings me my favorite soda. I feel like she knows me and it makes me feel... well, really touched actually, I don't even remember telling her about it. Instead, I ask why she didn't bring any chips. We dance together at the club downtown. It's like the twentieth song and neither of us has left the dance floor while everyone around us has come and gone thrice over. She moves so smoothly, looks so alive and anytime she grabs my hand to do a spin under my arm or so spin around with me I feel so electric and happy. Dancing with her feels easy, and I wish she'd let me take her home. Instead, I ask her why she keeps stepping on my toes. She slumps down next to me at the café, leaning her head on my shoulder and tells me how exhausted she is after a bad day. Her hair smells amazing and I love how warm she is. I'm sorry she feels tired. I want to take her hand in mine and run my hand through that perfect head of hair, to tell her I'm here. Instead, I tell her not to look at me like that and that maybe her bad day was caused by that ugly hoodie she's wearing.

Of course she doesn't want to answer my texts! I wouldn't either.

"It's okay, man! I just mean that maybe if you really wanna make a move-"

"No," I say softly and stare back outside. The snow is falling even harder now, the day turns into evening as the sun begins to set somewhere behind the thick cloud cover. "You're right. I've been an ass."

"I didn't say you've been-"

"I don't think she'd want to hang out alone. I'll just see her tomorrow at the club like always."

When I make my way to the kitchen, hands already reaching for the coffee pot to brew some evening joe since I won't be heading out after all, a pair of strong hands grab my shoulders and spin me around. I don't like it when Hyung manhandles me.

"Minho, that is not what I meant. I don't even mean that you have to stop joking around, I just mean that you should be sincere for a bit, and then you can go right back to it. I don't think you'll get out of being 'just friends' if you're not honest."

I don't like it when he's right either.

After a brief conversation with the two which included me stating out loud that I have a crush on Y/N for the first time, I ask Jisung to check how long she'd be at library. He's happy to, since he's such a sucker for surprises. He wants to join me so he can see the look on her face, but I've never really had a problem saying no to Jisung. Or anyone, really, except Y/N. I then get changed, throw on my hoodie, a coat, some boots and a beanie, and I'm ready. Almost, I still need two salted caramel hot chocolates, one in each hand.

Lucky for me, there's a Starbucks around practically every corner. I choose to head for the one closest to the library, so our drinks will stay warm.

Then the lump in my throat swells and nearly blocks my breathing. How did this become so momentous? It isn't a date, I'm just bringing her some hot chocolate. She might not even want it. She might have left already, changed her mind about staying late. Am I nervous because of what my roommates made me realize? Could I be walking into something that'll make me cringe for the rest of my existence? This feels very new and terrifying. I should just forget about this and head back inside.

But I want to see Y/N. I really do.

And I don't really even have to make tonight anything special. It doesn't have to become "the night that Minho confessed" or whatever. We can just hang out. I can help her with her revision and just sit next to her as she reads. That's creepy. But she looks so beautiful when she concentrates, like a majestic being asked to solve a complex riddle. Her eyes get all cat-like, narrow and glowing.

But maybe... Maybe she doesn't want me there and I'll just bother her.

I don't know how I ended up inside the elevator taking me to the study rooms on the third floor of the university library, but here I am. All this thinking blurred out my steps and direction but somehow... here I am. Standing in the quiet, student-filled space that is quite foreign to me, but very familiar to the person I am here to see.

Focusing my gaze, I play the real-life "Where's Waldo?" in the huge space. I'm slightly embarrassed to be staring at people so bluntly because they all seem so focused, but then again, I don't really care.

Then suddenly, I see a hand moving. It's a frantic wave and my brain skips every step and jumps straight to what I know to be true; it's Y/N. The glass door of the small study room she's in opens and she tiptoes towards me. It's like I'm doing a full body scan, the way my eyes stay on her. She looks happy, her smile is wide and her steps are accompanied by excited hands.

"Oh my gosh! Hi!" she whisper yells.

She might actually be happy to see me. Hoodie-clad arms are around my neck before I can register a thing, and my heart rate skyrockets. The embrace is tight. Her embrace always is. And she skipped the hot chocolates in my hands, she didn't even look at them.

"What are you doing here? Wait, wait. Come here," she grabs my arm and gently guides us back between all the tables, couches and chairs to the room she'd just exited. 

When the door is closed, I hear it. Silence. Not the kind outside in the general study hall where you can hear a pin drop and the creek of a chair echoes for fifteen minutes. The kind that takes sound and swallows it. This room is-

”It’s a soundproof room so don’t worry, it’s okay to talk!” she says as if she’s a kettle that’s just begun to boil. ”But Min, what are you doing here? Oh, is one of these for me?”

No, dumbass, they’re both for me.

”Y-Yes, I thought you might like it,” I gulp, handing one to her.

”That is so sweet, thank you!” Her smile just makes all my cells dance. ”I’m just so surprised and happy you’re here, I wasn’t even sure you knew where the library was!”

What? You saying I don’t read?

”We walked you here with Jisung last week.”

Forehead crinkled, she takes a slow, calculated, sip of the hot chocolate. Whatever she was staring at me for was apparently forgotten when the liquid hit her tongue. ”You remembered!”

You like it? I just got you the same thing I got for myself, don’t read into it.

”Yeah. Uh- what are you studying for?”

”Minho, is everything alright?”

”Mhmm, why?”

She stares again, but says nothing.

”Come sit here. I have this big exam next week and…”

I sit next to her as she goes through the topic. I’m so immersed in her voice and the way the grey hoodie frames her face that I barely half-listen, yet I’m interested in everything she tells me.

”Did you come here just to see me?” she finishes after saying she’s happy I’m there but that she has to keep going for at least a little bit more.

Of course not, I’m here to play volleyball.

”I thought maybe you’d like the company.”

She’s silent for a moment, again.

”Okay… well, you’re right. It’s good to see you. As always.”

We stay quiet as she stares at me. I want to believe that she did look at my lips, but I dare not hope. 

”Wanna quiz me? I just got through chapter seven.”

I do.

She’s so intelligent and enthusiastic about the topic. She gets a few wrong and goes back through her notes expertly, reads for a few minutes and then we get back to it.

I have never, ever had this much fun with a book. I scan through the pages, mind on the amazing person next to me. I hope I’ve been kind, I’m pretty proud of the way I’ve held my tongue. Maybe tonight could be the night I tell her how I feel.

”You’re so good at this, it’s amazing.”

”Okay, that’s it, what is up with you tonight?”

What is this annoyed tone? What happened?

”Huh?”

”Is something wrong? Are you mad at me? Has something happened that you’re not telling me?”

”W-wha- No! Why would you think that?”

”Then why are you being cold?”

Cold? Now I’m ”cold”? This can’t be right, the guys said… what is she talking about?

I set the book down and turn to face her. Her features seem agitated, tight. It scares me a little. It annoys me more.

”What are you on about?”

”’You’re so good at this’… ’here you go’… ’there you are’… ’it’s okay’… ’me and Jisung walked you here last week’… what the heck was that? Of course I remember? But who are you and where is my Minho?”

”Y-Your Min-”

”Yes! My Minho, I want him back!”

”You’re acting so weird. What do you mean?”

As she explains the tape rewinds again. She sits on my lap and I complain about how heavy she is. She asks if I mean it and I get up without letting go of her, flipping her so I’m holding her bridal style. I squat a few times and shake my head. She comes to our house and brings me my favourite soda and I ask why she didn’t bring chips. She pokes out her tongue and pulls a bag of them out of her tote bag  and I have to wrestle her for them, after which I get her favourite soda from the fridge and bring it to her. We dance together at the club downtown and I ask why she keeps stepping on my toes. She then proceeds to step on my toes (for the first time that night) and asks what I want to drink next. She slumps down next to me after a bad day and leans her head on my shoulder. She bursts out laughing when I slander her hoodie because it’s in fact mine. Without another word I offer her sips of my hot chocolate for the rest of the night, and when it's finished I go buy another one.

And she wanted to answer my messages. She was just busy (and Chan was right again but I don’t want to think about that).

”And another thing! I haven’t considered you ”just a friend” in weeks so Chan and Jisung can just take their Tiktok psychology tips elsewhere and stop messing with us!”

I have to shake my head to rattle that sentence around. Make it make sense.

”It’s called flirting! And another thing-”

”You talk too much.”

”What?”

I lean closer quickly, grinning. Our knees touch. I make my intention, my hope for what will happen next crystal clear by cupping her cheek.

”Can you just shut up for a second if this means you don’t think I’ve been a dick to you?”

She’s silent, again. Her eyes are darting between my eyes and lips, the words she wants to say travel to her gaze easily.

And then I kiss her. This just became "the night we kissed for the first time", which is more than I could've ever hoped for. She's so perfect.

”You are a dick, though. I never said that,” she smirks as I let my lips travel between her cheeks and mouth. "And you're overdressed, the dress code for study dates with me is sweats."

That night, as we travel hand in hand back to my place, the fierceness I knew accompanied her kind heart was more visible than ever. She doesn’t wait for me to fully open the door to the apartment.

The wooden rectangle flies open with force and hits the wall as Y/N bursts in.

”YOU TWO! You ever try to get him to ’tone it down’ or whatever the fuck the advice was, I’ll make sure your fridge will always be full of nothing but empty orange juice cartons!”

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #stray kids lee minho #stray kids lee know #stray kids minho #skz fanfic #skz lee minho #lee minho #lee minho scenarios

[embe95]

A Momentous Break

Lee Felix drabble <3 The MAXIDENT trailer made me do it. They all looked so beautiful so I just wanted to write a very low key, calm oneshot for the universe I imagined that particular gang to be in. I imagine Felix would remain his soft, kind self, just clad in leather and maybe with some vices that aren't permitted to an idol.

I listened to Sunshine, My Universe, Streetlight, you know, chill vibes, lovely vibes.

”Hey. You look like you could use this.”

The first thing that comes to her view is a lit cigarette. The smoke dances upward delicately before vanishing into the cool city wind.

The hand holding the cancer stick, as Y/N’s father had called it, is slender and pale, the skin contrasted beautifully by the black leather sleeve that clad the following arm.

”Hi Felix.”

”Woah, that bad?”

She can’t help the small chuckle that bubbles out at his words.

”Yeah. Boss is on my ass as if I’m the root of every problem.”

”Is Lee Know being difficult again?”

Y/N swats at the smoke to signal what Felix already knows; she hates the stuff. Well, when she’s sober.

”Nah. He’s cool.”

”So the bother-brother isn't working tonight?”

”Right again,” she smiles, leaning back against the concrete stairs, elbows holding her up.

Felix licks his lips, staring at her. The black t-shirt with the bar logo stretches deliciously, showing off her chest and muscled shoulders, her forehead and slender neck are coated with shimmering sweat.

”Bet he’s at the bodega right now.”

”Probably.”

”So, why aren’t you?”

Y/N fixes her tired eyes up to Felix, and his tall, fit frame paired with the freckles and black hair makes her mouth dry. Nothing new there. Better not smoke, it makes the drought in her mouth even worse.

As he leans on the familiar metal railing, Felix feels her gaze and can’t help but move his own around the alley. He wonders if those dumpsters are ever actually emptied, because they’re always bursting with black plastic bags so the lids don’t even close. The familiar graffiti behind the hideous yellow-black wasteland is almost fluorescent as the neon signs and streetlights shine on them.

There are a few ideas in his head about what to answer. Ways to go about it. He could be honest, he could make it cute, make it funny. Attempting a joke wasn’t an option, maybe if he could ask Jisung. Maybe he should say it’s because he wants to spend time with her. That this seems to be the only time the two can be alone without her brother and the rest of the gang. That this is what he looks forward to whenever she has a shift at the bar. Which in turn is the reason he’s always excited when she has to work. Just in case she’d have noticed it when she’d told them her schedule. He had a hard time hiding it.

He could say it right now.

Instead he shrugs.

”Just thought you might like some company.”

Always the cool guy.

”I don’t mind it,” she answers with a soft smile, eyes traveling to the cloudy, dark sky. She needs something to say, quick, before she admits how much she enjoys having him here.

”So much light pollution, I can’t stand it sometimes. I wanna see some stars!”

The pout is adorable.

”We could go on a roadtrip or something, get out of the city,” Felix speaks quickly, barely registering the fact that this could be perceived as asking her out.

But he doesn’t need to worry about that. Y/N’s brain isn’t wired to detect such things from people she’s interested in herself, because God forbid any crush could ever be reciprocated.

”We should!”

Felix’s heart leaps upward and freezes there. But then Y/N's excitement suddenly deflates.

”But with all of us it's such a fuss, you know? Two cars and all…”

Right.

”Oh yeah, right… big fuss.”

There was always some combo of the nine of them wherever they went; six, four, eight, three. Pairs were a thing. There were of course certain people who hung out more than others, or rather it just happened more naturally.

Bangchan, Jisung and Changbin live together so they were often joined at the hip. Seungmin and Jeongin basically run the bodega now that Seungmin’s grandfather was getting too old to look after everything. Lee Know and Y/N are siblings. Hyunjin and Felix and Lee Know hang out a lot. All nine of them dance together, but it’s not uncommon for at least one of them to miss practice.

Felix and Y/N are almost never alone.

Felix sits down with a sigh, back against one of the vertical metal bars. The leather jacket was a good choice, he briefly thinks as the September winds whisk his hair around.

”Big fuss,” his low voice repeats, the ’s’ sizzling in Y/N’s ears.

They really should spend more time like this.

”Maybe…” she mumbles softly while picking herself up to lean on her knees. The stretchy black fabric feels sticky under her elbows because she’d had to crawl under a few tables to help a customer find their wallet. Not her finest moment. ”Maybe we could just go by ourselves?”

It really is more of a question, seeing as she doesn’t know whether Felix would want that or not. Raising the intonation is also a way to mask the vibe as calm and collected, though his answer to what she was suggesting has the potential to make or break the moment and perhaps her whole outlook on their relationship.

But no pressure or anything.

Felix’s breath hitches. Actually no, he inhales the last puffs from his smoke, which get stuck in his throat, which in turn cause him to start coughing like a dying man.

"Hey, hey, breathe!" 

Y/N's open palm collides with Felix's back firmly. 

"Here."

A water bottle is offered and gladly accepted.

The open palm remains, now absentmindedly drawing rivers on the black leather.

"Didn't mean to shock you."

"You didn't," the man croaks, voice as low as ever. "I'd love that."

Could it really be this easy?

They could just go alone because they both want to? Apparently they both want to. They could swipe Lee Know's car and just drive off together, leaving the city only to return with the memory of having seen stars together. Could it really, truly be this easy? To go on a date with one of your best friends?

"I'm free tomorrow," Y/N smiles, cheeks high, the corners of her eyes crinkle.

Before Felix has a chance to answer, the heavy metal door behind them opens as the bottom scratches the concrete that the steps lead up to. Felix keeps his dark-brown eyes on her and half listens as she's commanded back inside by the shrill voice of her boss. Her soft aura captures him, so much so that he doesn't even register the words leaving those beautiful, mesmerizing lips in front of him after the door is closed once again. She smiles, shoulders rising and falling from the small chuckle. All still inaudible to him. 

"Duty calls."

Suddenly they're on his. The lips. It's quick, easy, so familiar. And yet it's completely new. Like a seal on the date they'd just calmly agreed on. The only woman Felix has thought of romantically in years just gave him a kiss. It's an agreement. 

Okay, we're trying this thing together now. Just the two of us.

It felt easy, just like everything else with her does.

Y/N wonders why she's waited so long.

Felix does too. And regrets not being the one to initiate it.

"Okay," Y/N breathes out and locks eyes with the man she just kissed, irises scanning him to look for signs that what she did was not okay. 

There are none.

Instead, as if to check that what just happened actually happened, Felix leans back in, cold hands flying to cradle her head, and she copies his movements. They deepen the agreement as the kiss turns into a more PG13 version of its predecessor.

The street lights from both ends of the alley colour the scene a deep okra, and passing headlights make Felix's freckles bounce in and out of view. 

Y/N can't wait to see everyone's faces when they walk into the bodega together after her shift.

About time. About fucking time. Their voices ring in her head. Felix can see the grins on all seven of those stupid, beloved faces.

"Wanna come in for a drink?" The question is breathless, excited, hopeful.

"I have to tell your brother later. So yeah, I could really use it."

#stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids oneshot #stray kids felix #lee felix #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #skz felix #lee felix fanfic #lee felix imagines #maxident

[embe95]

Two Idiots

Chan finally has time to tell you about Jisung and Y/N, do you have a minute?

Hi, mate! Hey, how are you?

Okay, so some backstory might be necessary for this one. It’s short, don’t worry, you just need to know that these two are idiots, and they have been since... birth? I guess.

They’re friends, yeah? In love? Absolutely. It was obvious to every single soul who saw them together except to them, because each of said idiots was too self-conscious and critical to believe the other would love them “like that”. Plus, there was always the risk of losing the friendship. But with two idiots like them, I think they would’ve forgotten an awkward confession... Well, maybe. Anyway, luckily we don’t have to think about that.

So yeah, Y/N and Han Jisung, really close for years. In love with each other for about a year, at least that’s how long Jisung was going through it. I overheard Y/N talking about it with Felix one night so that’s how I knew she felt the same. Yeah, uh, that’s really all you need to know.

Okay, so.

Jisung had just told me that he’d decided not to confess his feelings, now or ever. I’m not even sure how he got to that point, probably after Hyunjin and Y/N started their dance classes and he felt sure Hyunjin wanted to try something with her. Which was completely false, Y/N just wanted to learn how to dance.

Anyway. On the same day we’d had our little talk about Jisung basically deciding to make himself not love her anymore, everything basically blew up.

It was about three weeks ago, and I’m still not over it.

So I was just sitting in the studio, going over some recordings we’d done earlier with Changbin and Jisung, when Y/N came in with some ramen for us to share for lunch. She really is so dear to me, we kind of take turns taking care of each other.

We talked about work and stuff, she was her smiley, beautiful self, everything seemed really normal. After the conversation I’d had with the quokka I really wanted to ask her to talk to him about her feelings, but that would’ve meant telling her I knew. She would’ve gotten so flustered, I didn’t want to embarrass her.

And anyways, I didn’t even get the chance, because all of a sudden who should burst through the door but J.One himself.

”Hey mate!”

”Hi Ji!”

It was like he didn’t hear us. My upcoming ”what’s up” withered on my tongue when I noticed that my usually chill friend was tense as a metal pipe. Seriously, I was so confused.

”What is this?” he shoved his phone towards Y/N’s stunned face, so close she shoved it right backwards.

”The hell? I can’t see shit, Ji! There. Now…”

She squinted her eyes, putting down the ramen bowl next to my empty one.

Then she chuckled.

”That’s just-”

”Who is he?”

”Huh?”

Jisung scoffed and rolled his eyes. He was fuming, so overtaken with this red hot jealous rage that it was damn near comical.

”You heard me! Who. Is. This?”

Y/N raised her brows and as her head tilted to the left I practically heard her confusion turn into defiance. They’ve always been like two flames battling for dominance, and suddenly the whole room felt really stuffy.

”Chan, do you know who this is?”

The phone was now in my face for some damn reason and I couldn’t see a damn thing.

”Wha- I don’t have a clue. I-”

Y/N was up, her fist collided with Jisung’s arm.

”What are you harassing Chan for? Jeez! What do you care who I have coffee with? It’s my business, you dingus.”

”What do I care?”

”That’s what I asked, isn’t it?”

They were quiet, chests heaving. This was turning into something and well… Yeah, I had to excuse myself, third-wheeling was not on my to-do list for that day.

”I’m out.”

And I stayed true to that statement, leaving without another word. The last thing I heard as the door was closing was Y/N’s loud “what is up with you?”.

That’s one way to finally talk about this, I thought and headed for the gym.

Jisung later explained what went down after I had left:

Look, man, I’m so sorry for bursting in like that and making you uncomfortable. But... you won’t believe it. I don’t even believe what just happened.

Honestly, it’s weird that I can even remember what happened, my heart was beating so fast that it was difficult to focus on anything. I saw that photo when I was heading out to lunch and I just... yeah, I went nuts. It was like a rubber band snapped against my forehead. Like, yeah, she doesn’t love me like I love her but what the hell is she doing with a random guy I know nothing about, looking so happy. I just... well, I know what I said earlier, but it just flew out the window, I just had to know.

After you left she yelled at me.

“What is up with you? Why are you so fucking worked up?”

I wanted to yell it, scream it, sing it, rap it, write it, spell it out with my tongue in her mouth- sorry, sorrysorrysorry too much, but I was so close to saying it, but I just had to know if that dude was her boyfriend or something. That was really my priority, before she answered I couldn’t say anything else.

“Just tell me who this is!”

Her eyes traveled to the picture for a moment. She was showing all the tell-tale signs that she was super angry with me, which in hindsight I can’t blame her for. Her hands were in fists, her nostrils were flared and she was barely blinking. Her shoulders were so tense she looked like she was ready to attack me.

“Where did you even get that-”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t have to tell you-”

“WHO IS IT?”

“IT’S TAEHYUN FROM WORK!” she screamed, grabbed my phone and threw it on the couch.

Then she stepped closer and I could just feel my anger dial down and turn into this weird ball in my throat. I tried to swallow it, but couldn’t. Somebody from work, okay. Was it a date?

“Was it a date?”

“Why do you care?”

“Tell me, was it a date?”

“NO! WHY DO YOU CARE?”

“I... I just do.”

“Nuh-uh, not good enough, tell me! You burst in here and- UGH, JUST TELL ME!”

And then it just... it just burst out of me.

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”

I froze. She froze.

I thought about crawling under the couch, running out Usain Bolt style, breaking a window, about apologizing for my words and volume. What was I doing? I’d just talked to you about just letting this go. Maybe I could joke my way out?

But then... I didn’t have to.

“O-Oh yeah? I LOVE YOU TOO YOU IDIOT!”

“YOU LOVE ME?”

“YES!”

“WELL THAT’S NICE TO KNOW!”

“LIKEWISE!”

“WELL I’M GONNA KISS YOU NOW!”

“DO IT THEN!”

Then we... well, yeah, don’t wanna kiss and tell. But dude, she has the absolute softest lips. I still can’t believe it. And I really just feel stupid about not telling her before. She really twisted that confession out of me, I can’t wait to fight with her now that we’re dating, it’s gonna be epic. I’m serious, why are you laughing?

We’ll try to keep it down, promise.

Yeah, man, the date was great. She’s so perfect, I feel like a lucky idiot.

Oh, sure, yeah. Well first we went to...

And that is how two idiots in love told each other about their feelings. Yeah, I know...*sigh* I’m glad that it’s over now too.

#han jisung #stray kids fanfic #stray kids #stray kids oneshot #stray kids han #stray kids jisung #stray kids imagines #stray kids romance #han jisung fluff #han jisung scenarios #han jisung skz

[embe95]

Forget again

I got emotional and wrote this little piece to accompany Bangchan's masterpiece. My idea was that you could read this within the beautiful, heartbreaking 169 seconds the song lasts for, but would recommend looping the tune just in case so you can keep the vibe.

Stray kids everywhere all around the world <3

She bangs on the door mere seconds after he slammed it in her face.

Not again. How could she do this again?

“Channie, please! Let me in, I’m so sorry.”

Her high, broken sobs echo in his dark room.

Chan trembles.

Not again.

“Come on, baby, please... just let me in, we can talk about this. I promise, it meant nothing... Channie, let me in!”

How many times had he heard those words? How many more could he take?

How could she do this again?

“I love you so much baby, I promise, I was just stupid. I’m so sorry. Please let me in! I love you baby!”

Loves him? She loves him? Is this love?

How can she possibly think this is love?

His friends think he’s crazy. She’s cruel. She’s poisonous. She’s using him. But they don’t know everything that makes her perfect. They only see the ugly. They don’t understand.

This has to be love. She’s all Chan knows. His friends have to be wrong, they just have to.

“Let’s talk about this, baby, come on, let me in. Channie... I promise it won’t happen again!”

How many times had he heard those words? So many lies.

His cries are the opposite of hers. Silent. Powerless.

Chan needs to give this up.

“It was just a mistake, you’ve been ignoring me and I needed someone, just for a bit. Baby, you have to understand, I’m so sorry, just let me in...”

Ignoring her? When?

Why does that matter?

How could she do this again?

“Baby... come on, baby. Baby...”

She’s getting louder. Chan doesn’t want her to yell.

“JUST OPEN THE DOOR BABY! YOU HAVE TO FIX THIS WITH ME! I LOVE YOU BABY!”

I love you too.

I love you.

Why does it hurt so much?

He breaks. The sobs that shake him hurt his torso so much he has to bend over, hands flying around his middle. His throat is closing. Air is stuck in his lungs and it only slips out in small beats when he forces it.

It hurts. It hurts so bad. Please, someone just make it stop. I need it to stop.

He can’t see anything. His face is wet.

Chan needs to scream.

“How could you...” he whispers. “I love you so much. How could you?”

Chan needs her to leave. But he can’t say it.

“Baby... baby, please.”

Chan’s body curls into a ball. His forehead finds the floor, his nails make the scars on his clawed heart visible on the hardwood.

It hurts so much.

Chan needs her to stay.

Slowly, shivering, he sits up and stares at the door separating him and her. The love of his life. The worst thing that has ever happened to him.

Jaw clenched, muscles tense, he moves.

He opens the door. Lets her in.

How can he forget?

Chan will always open the door for her.

He might as well forget. Again.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids oneshot #bang chan #skz bang chan #skz scenarios #Youtube #stray kids bang chan #stray kids imagines

[embe95]

Red and Gold - Chapter II

Warnings: mentions of death, non-con kiss scene, mentions of torture, violence, needles

*****************

Where am I? A quick look around reveals only that I am somewhere I have never been before, which is surprising considering I distinctly remember rolling around in my own bed trying to get some sleep. How did I get here?

This isn’t new to me, in a sense. It’s quite familiar actually. I used to black out a lot in my cell, waking up outside its confines. Sometimes there were holes in the walls, at other times I’d have no clue as to how my body has managed something my conscious mind only dreamed of. They wouldn’t tell me what they saw on those tapes. Usually what happens is by instinct, some external or internal beacon makes me move according to its design and my mind allows my muscles to heed its call.

This time it must be about one of my friends.

He’s been missing for three days.

************

Perfect, I smile and stare at Ned and MJ on Ned’s couch as they wait for me to hurry it up with the popcorn. We’re counting down movie classics that are apparently “must see” on all accounts, although the terrific trio do seem to disagree on what order they should be in the rating chart as well as on the order we should watch them. MJ thinks oldest to newest, Ned wants to go worst to best and Peter thinks we should vote nightly. I gratefully accept any of these routes as long as it leads to us spending time together.

Peter’s late tonight, he’s been patrolling, which surprises no one. Him being late isn’t a fair thing to claim, since we didn’t really set a time. MJ says “being late” is a construct anyway.

“But it wouldn’t hurt to drop a line, I’m getting tired.”

“Don’t you usually go to sleep at like 4am?” Ned tilts his head, eyes squinting and eyebrows raised high.

She says nothing at first, only smacks her friend’s face with a heavy throw pillow, the name finally making sense to me.

“My social battery is running out, you dingus!”

Ned frowns. “But we’re watching a movie?”

“Ned, sometimes I wanna be in my room without you, I’m sorry!”

“Can’t say I’m not hurt.”

I listen to their comical dialogue, but it blurs as my eyes become fixed on a red, shiny shooting star that appears to be coming straight at us. In an instant, before my synapses can register that shooting stars do not function this way, one of Tony’s suits slides in through the open window and lands in front of me, scorching the floorboards underneath its burners. They crackle and sizzle.

“Y/N, is Peter here?” Tony’s voice echoes in the room, the alarmed tone and use of our proper names worries me instantly.

“N-No.”

MJ and Ned approach us while I stutter my reply.

“Why are you here Mr. Iron Man, sir?”

“Is everything alright?”

The suit remains still, screen-like eyes facing the wall behind us.

“Where the fuck could he be?” Tony’s voice is strained.

"W-What do you mean?"

***********

Someone had taken Peter. I couldn’t see straight for hours after the suit had left us. As soon as my eyes stopped glowing I bulleted my way to the compound. It was bad.

We’ve been searching everywhere. His tracker was off, no tech could help us. I felt useless compared to everyone else, but joined forces with Ned and MJ to try and find him the “normal person way” as the curly head I adore put it.

I don’t feel so useless right now.

My finger hovers over the letters N, E and D. It’s late. Maybe Tony? Ms. Maximoff? MJ? Ned would be sad if he knew I didn’t tell him right way. He’s Peter’s guy in the chair. He can help, I think he needs to help.

“Hey, hey I’m sorry I’m calling so late-”

“It’s cool, it’s cool, I can’t really sleep right now anyway, I’ve been tracking video footage from all over the city ever since I got home,” Ned’s voice is alert and attentive. “What’s up?”

I pause. How do I explain it without sounding- fuck it who cares, it’s Ned. He’ll get it.

“Okay so, this is going to sound strange, but I think I’m where Peter is.”

“WHAT?”

I explain my way through the bits and pieces I know and sure enough, when I’m done Ned hums and declares he’s adding MJ to the call. I walk MJ through the same road and once we’re all caught up, radio silence descends. The cold night air glazes me. I shiver.

“So, you’re in front of a.... what?” MJ quizzes.

“It’s some kind of warehouse.”

“Of course it is.... its usually either an evil warehouse layer, the highest floor of a Wall Street looking office or-”

“Or somewhere underground!”

“Y/N? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, Ned, I can hear you just fine.”

“I still think this is stupid, we could just ask for more help,” MJ groans at the end of the line, her slightly distorted and strained voice makes me chuckle even though I know her worry is real. And she has a point, but-

“I can’t wait, not now, I can sense something strong, it must be him.”

“How do you know? You said you just walked there by accident, right?”

“No, I don’t remember coming here, something must be drawing me in.”

“How can you be sure-”

“MJ come on she can save Peter if she’s right!”

“Yeah!”

I think at this point I know MJ, and I know a playful part of her wants to ask why I’m this drawn to Peter, but her concern trumps the need to ask the teasing question.

“MJ, we need him back, I’m going in.”

When the line stayed quiet I knew I had to keep talking to calm my friends down somehow, give in.

“But yeah, okay, call Mr. Stark, anyone from the team. I’ll just go in and check it out.”

“Be careful!”

“Stay safe!”

Their caring words overlapped. I wish they wouldn’t worry. My phone slid into its place in the deep pocket of my hoodie as I gently used my mental prowess to glide the door ajar. The air was just as cold inside and the smoky puffs emitting from my mouth were clearly visible.

“Peter?” I hear my cry echo around the empty lot. The two syllables travel further and I hold my breath to try and make out any sound. He would be able to find himself, my senses are not enough.

Just as I’m about to grab hold of the seven ton metal crate filling the dim space, I notice a foot clothed in red from the corner of my eye.

“Peter!” I call and turn my gaze to see his strong, steady form come to full view from behind a tower of crates on my left. Weird, I could swear I checked-

“You found me, thank goodness,” he says calmly. The intensity in his eyes makes me shrink, I take a step back when he approaches me swiftly, confidently.

“W-What happened? Are you okay? Did they hurt y-”

“Shh,” he smiles, the strange feeling of pressure on my lips makes my eyes widen. His finger? Why is he so close?

“Pete-”

“Shhhh darling, I’m so glad you found me,” he whispers. He’s standing tall, gaze leveled with mine though it feels like he’s towering over me. I’m not sure I like the feeling, his smile is warm, broad, but his eyes are different. Not brown and gentle, very dark. Almost cold.

Darling? His tense digit presses into my lips so tight that any questions I was raising couldn’t get past my teeth. Maybe he could read my eyes? What are you doing? And why?

I’ve never had any experience with romance. The room I’d been in since age six didn’t include other people, unless they wore black-gray military attire (which based on movies I’d seen since spending time with friends watching movies was very cliche) or white coats. I’ve been touched, yes, in ways apparently no one ever should be. Nothing gentle or warm or truly caring. Always with an agenda. I remember the first hug I got, it was when I was screaming and twitching in pain after being injected with a really big needle and the liquid stuffed into my little veins was burning and turning everything red. I calmed down for a second in Dr. Goffels arms, I can remember my arms instinctively snaking around his torso only to be attacked with another needle a modicum of a moment later. He was just keeping me still. I hate the tragic aspects of my life, especially because a year ago they were normal.

But this Peter in front of me appeared to be copying the movements of some lead in a romantic movie. Overly confident, the air surrounding us turns thick because of his steady, heavy breathing.

I have no time to react when his strong, calloused hands grip my face and he draws me in so we meet in the middle, lips colliding. He seems to melt while I freeze, eyes blown, arms aligning with my sides.

“Mmmeterrr,” I try to mumble. He won’t stop. Our lips are like a bridge from one body to the other but I feel no connection. This isn’t how I imagined kissing. This isn’t how I imagined kissing Peter. I didn’t think Peter and I would ever kiss. Yet the force is familiar.

Finally, I get him to pull back for air, but only after my shaky hands shove his chest with force.

“Why the fuck did you-”

“Come on, we need to go,” his hand clutches my wrist, cutting my query in half. The warehouse is still dimly lit. Peter drags me along, running faster than I can keep up. My thoughts are having trouble with the situation as well. I could have sworn I broke in from the other-

Peter opens a door and pulls me inside so he can throw the metal entryway closed again. I pant and look around, the room looks a lot like- no-

“No!” I shriek but just as my hands reach for the handle behind me, Peter grips both my arms and pulls them behind my back. I tense at the familiar, cold feeling around my wrists and know he just slid on the same cuffs I’ve been wearing since HYDRA realized their injections had worked. My fingers go numb instantly. I must’ve been dreaming the past months of my life. I’ve woken up from my coma and I’m still beneath the ruins of Sokovia. It’s all been a comatose little mutant’s escape fantasy, of course. That’s why the kiss felt odd, it was Peter for fuck’s sake. It should’ve felt more... something. But Peter’s the one who- wait?

“Peter... what are you doing?” I sob, my tears feel hot before turning icy as they roll down my freezing cheeks. Behind me, huffing because of my struggling I assume, he towers over my crumbling shape. I think I hear him chuckle. Just as I feel the golden hue circle the room around me, seemingly sparkling more than usual due to the tears, my hands are no longer in anyone’s grip and I hear a swoosh.

Everything goes dark.

I hear voices. Stay still, don’t open them. My instincts keep my eyelids relaxed, I need to secure my surroundings before “waking up”.

“- and the subject’s vitals are much better than before. In layman terms, it’s... well, healthy.”

“Good, good. Danke schön Fraülein Tanner, I will take it from here.”

“Thank you, sir. Hail Hydra.”

11 steps. Door opens. Closes. Metal. Hands still numb.

“I know you are awake.”

The accent. The heavy steps. The smell.

A cold, dry, thick thumb outlines my jaw before the index and middle fingers meet it at my chin. I can’t help squeezing my eyes shut in fear and denial as he drags me back to where I hope I’d never have to return; to his grip, under his stare, to the state between animal and weapon. Yet here I am.

“Welcome back, 493.”

“No,” I gulp, followed by a feeble attempt to shake my head. “No... No... No.”

“We need to make up for lost time. See if this new... healthier version of you is also stronger when it comes to your abilities. Let us begin.”

Dr. Goffels lets go of my jaw like it had suddenly turned into something disgusting, my eyes are thrown upwards to the harsh, white lights that creek above me. If there was ever a time to leave my body it’s now. If only I’d studied with Dr. Strange.

“You have been asking for this Peter in your sleep,” Goffels mumbles, flipping through the folder Dr. Tanner must’ve given him.

My brain begins flashing and I feel my eyes darting beneath the heavy lids as I put two and two together. Congratu-fucking-lations. I hear MJ’s voice when the curse floats in my brain. You had another success. I wonder who it was; who was actually given an order to approach me and pretend to be a loved one of mine while an innocent person with a number for a name like me toyed with my head, making my senses deceive me. That’s why the warehouse felt so electric and warm, because part of what’s in me was hiding within its walls. Touch is the most difficult to control, that must be why the kiss- I should’ve fucking known.

My clenching jaw gives me away. I know not to say a word but Goffels has been staring at me for far longer than any person should look at another. Hours, months, years. He knows me.

“Yes, now you have got it. We have succeeded almost as well as with you. 542 is more interested in controlling the mind than you. It is quite good, no?”

I’m sure they’re happy and healthy and willingly agreed to your experiments just like me.

Goffels exaggerates a sigh and sets down the folder on a pristine metal desk next to me. From the corner of my eyes I spot a few forgotten drops of blood on one of the jagged corners.

“542 can let you see the boy again if you miss him too much. You should be happy I can give you the opportunity, not all of us have a chance to see people after they are dead.”

My body explodes. Lights hum before cracking, shards of glass cover me. I hear metal clashing and clanging, bending. Soon I hear nothing, only the word, that horrifying, blood-curdling, terminal word blasts around my skull and paints my vision red. Faint shouting.

Dead.

A needle. And I’m out again.

****************

I don’t know how long its been, if I’m honest I lost track after the first 10 hours since I woke up from the dose I got after hearing about Peter’s death. It all seems like a festival of night terrors.

I’m awake only when they want me to be, and the first thing I think of when I open my injured eyes is Peter. I imagine how he died, I try to remember his laugh. I cry and pray it’s not true but then again, at this point I don’t know if any of it was.

It could’ve been just my mind stone -infused brain’s desperate attempt to escape because I know I am going to either die mind, body and soul or just mind and soul, body free to be used however these poisonous vermin desire.

“Y/N? Thank god. I’m here to save you.”

“Peter- no- behind you!”

BANG

Then there are days when I see Peter. He’s here to save me. Sometimes he succeeds in removing the binds. Sometimes he just stares and smiles at me. And then he dies. He’s stabbed, shot, hanged, burned, drowned. And I explode again. And again.

Sometimes Wanda comes in and dies. I’m happy MJ and Ned don’t visit me. They would die too.

An unknown time passes and MJ and Ned also come say hi. They’re tortured to death.

I am starting to break. There’s nothing left. Everything I see is glazed with a golden hue and I’m on fire but never burning hot enough to end the pain. My skin sizzles, my blood boiling it slowly.

Days turn into... just blurred time. It’s all just existing, nothing makes sense and I don’t know why it should or would. The oxygen level of the room remains the same, I think, the walls probably stay the same although to me they appear to move, change colors and slowly close in and then move away. The lights hurt my eyes. Everything is just... a blur.

It’s funny. Like dark humour. I’m going to die here.

Come get your love

Come get your love

Yeah, yeah, yeah

The door opens again.

“Y/N?” Oh my god...” I hear an angelic voice sing to me.

The speaker pants. Panicked. Shocked.

“P-Peter?” I stutter out the obvious answer to who I knew the voice belonged to. “No, no, no.... Not again.”

I’m too tired for this.

“Shh, it’s okay-”

“No, no, NO they said you were dead,” I mouth, voice hoarse from lack of use. “You are dead. You’re dead, you’re dead....”

“What? No, no, shh, hey, I’m alive, it’s okay. I’m here.”

“No- nonono shut up, shut up... Not today, please... Please... You’re dead.”

“It’s me, I’m here just- just stay still I-I’ll think of something.”

The stutter. The hesitation. The softness.

They’ve really perfected him.

If I ask, he’ll lie. Or tells the truth and I won’t believe him. It’s been done. He smells like a cosy mountain cabin and vanilla even underneath all the sweat-

“P-Peter- What shampoo do you use?” I ask quickly, my ears like a bunny’s, trying to configure how close he is and any hint of deception in the coming answer.

“What? I-”

“Please!”

“Vanilla by Honest Company MJ got it for me, jeez!”

I can’t believe it. Thank you, I start to sob, my tears staining the fabric over my eyes.

“I’m here, it’s okay, just- I can figure this out,” his rambles fill the room and have me worried.

“Shhh,” I attempt through the escaping, weepy gratitude that’s currently streaming out of me. I can’t believe he found me. There is nothing in the universe that could’ve woken up the hopeful woman inside me than hearing him, the real him right now. If there is someone up in the heavens, they must’ve thought I’ve done something right by someone, or at least that HYDRA shouldn’t be allowed to own more weapons.

The moment his clad fingers grace my skin with their absolving presence my mind floods with images of happiness, colour, friendship. It wasn’t a dream, I want to cry out. He’s alive!

“P-Peter,” I whisper. His head is right next to mine, his raggedy panting is tickling my left ear. “Listen to me. T-Thank you, but if you can’t get the locks open then you. Have. To. Leave. It’s suicide.”

“Shhh. You know that’s pointless.”

A tiny mechanic beep makes me halt my sobs. The pitch is different from the machines around me that have been blurred out, equaling silence.

Some magic spell releases the blood in my wrists, it flows freely to my fingers and my entire body relaxes. I sob harder. He did it. I’m in control. I am alive. My fingers flex.

“Mr. Stark? I have her. Yeah, we’re heading out- Y/N... stop.”

No more numbness, my veins are overflowing with energy. Strength. Happiness. Relief. Love.

I hear a thwip.

“Y/N, Y/N you need to stop.”

The blindfold loosens and floats away from my face. Curls. Forehead. Eyes. Peter’s circled by a beautiful golden hue, my hero permanently framed.

He mouths something and raises a gentle hand for my face to lean against. The second my skin touches his I jolt back to Earth.

“Y/N please... shh, it’s okay, please, you need to stop.”

The tone reaches my mind before any morphemes make sense. My body acts like a jack-in-the-box, I spring up to a sitting position and see the walls crumbling with cracks and all the horrifying machines floating around the room. I turn my gaze back to the only other living thing next to me and notice that through the wrist that’s not close to my jaw a white, stretched web is aimed at the ceiling three feet above us. He’s suspended midair. Why am I- His hesitant, worried look downward coaxes me to trace the route his eyes travel.

I’m in the air.

Focus.

I breathe, fixed on how Peter’s skin feels. Brain cells in overdrive, I try to direct them to follow his breathing and nothing else, none of the other exploding thoughts that explore the minefields of relief, anger, joy, pain and panic.

“There you go,” Peter whispers softly and squeezes my shoulder after the bed connects with the floor again. His facial features shift to worry in a blink, brown eyes traveling my face and arms. His hitched breathing is all I need to realize I must look like a corpse.

“C-Can you walk?”

He’s so gentle.

“Kid, you got her?”

“Yeah, Mr. Stark, I got her, we’re good, we’re gonna head out now. Is everything clear?”

Peter’s forehead suddenly creases and his hand flies to his ear.

“Mr. Stark? MR. STARK?”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman #marvel #marvel fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #fanfiction #red and gold

[embe95]

Safe

Hwang Hyunjin drabble <3

Word count: 1576

Mood: mostly angsty, just confusion all around

I can’t believe I ran into my ex, I don’t need this, I don’t want this. There’s nothing to discuss here. 

“I promise, I tried,” Hyunjin blurts as he stares at the ground.

I was so close to ending this encounter before it even properly began, why did we have to run into each other? I’ve been so good at avoiding him.

A sniffle shakes him slightly. He’s crying?

“Tried? Jin, I don’t-”

“To forget,” he interrupts suddenly, looking up with an agonized stare. His eyes take me by surprise; he is crying. “To let go, to stop... loving you. I tried so hard.”

I feel my eyebrows furrow in confusion and annoyance. Was loving me so bad? Something to try to get rid of? Something to shake? I don’t need to listen to this.

Why am I still here?

“Okay...” is all I can mumble out, the only word that escapes the maze of questions swarming in my brain.

Silence. I have to look away.

After a shaky, unnecessarily shallow breath, I choose to make my escape.

“Well, thank you for... this. See you later,” I turn, eyes fiercely focused to the now-blurry street lights that I needed to head towards to get home.

His hand closes around my wrist. It’s cold. Soft. Familiar. Strong.

“Please-” he chokes. “I’m not good with words, I’m sorry. I broke up with you because I was stupid. I was scared.”

“No Hyunjin!” I rip my hand from his hold and flip back around. Enough. “You don’t get to do this! You wanted to see what else was out there, you wanted something different and new and exciting, to see what you were missing out on!” my screams echo in the streets. People turn to stare but unlike usually, his eyes don’t falter towards them in concern, not even once. He stares at me, small pangs appearing to hit his heart with each of my claims. This has been bottled up for so long.

Well... that’s not entirely true. I had written about this, cried about this to my friends. But I’d never gotten the chance to tell him. I knew what it was, why he decided to do what he did.

“You got bored,” I state, voice now slightly hoarse but the determined tone still going strong to my surprise. “How is it going for you? Is the grass emerald green on that side? Are you satisfied now?”

His lower lip trembles and two consecutive tears roll down his cheeks as he shakes his head.

“No...” he gasps. “No, no, no...” head hanging heavy now, I can see the tears fall a few seconds apart. A sob shakes his entire frame as he seems to start bending over more.

I can’t help it. The icy shell encasing my heart is blown to pieces at the sight.

My arms reach out, slipping around his waist in an attempt to get his tall body back upright. His limbs grab me, each muscle gripping my back and shoulders, moving like he’s trying to cover me.

His head is still shaking from side to side. It’s frantic.

Hyunjin has never cried this much in front of me. He didn’t cry when we broke up. He didn’t cry when I left to visit my family. He didn’t cry when I cried. The only two times I’d seen him cry was when he was forced to go on hiatus and when he found out he could return to his family. The first was a horrifying afternoon. The second was one of the best nights of my life.

The way he’s holding me, the way we’re holding each other, is otherworldly, or something primal passed down from our ancestors. The back of my trench coat must be in shreds, he’s clawing at my muscles so hard, like begging me to believe him, to understand how sorry he is.

“Hyunjin,” I whisper after a lifetime has passed. Arms letting go, shoulders stiffening to push him away, I do my best to signal I want him to stand up.

He’s quick to react. A frazzled head of hair snaps up, shaky hands flying to wipe his puffy face, embarrassed, apologetic, confused.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have...” I hear him mumble.

“No, no... I was the one who... I shouldn’t have...” I reply in kind, same tone and volume.

“No, I’m happy you- I mean... thanks.”

Silence, broken only by slight hiccups from Hyunjin’s mouth, engulfs us.

“Do... you... think...” he forces out between sobs, Adam's apple bouncing. “You could ever... consider-”

“Yes.”

He stares at me through the glossy veil in front of his eyes. The gaze along with the single-syllable word I just uttered startle me.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know,” I continue quickly.

His chin falls and rises slowly. He’s trying to understand. I probably made him very happy for a second there. My vagueness isn’t anything new, indecisiveness is apparently a trademark for both of us. Would I ever consider letting him back into my life? As a friend? Romantically? Intimately? Could I ever trust him not to do the same thing again? Should I give him a second chance, or is that the job of the next person he’s going to love, to help him be better?

“You really hurt me. Even if I could forgive you, I don’t know how long it’ll be before I can trust you again. How do I know you won’t do it again? And... why did you want to stop loving me so badly?”

He stammers. “It was so... safe.”

“Safe?”

“Everything with you was safe, familiar, reliable... I thought love was supposed to be bigger somehow, more somehow.”

“More?”

“You know... fireworks, butterflies, seeing red, seeing green, running after you in the rain-”

“How do you know you love me then?” I speculate, throat tight. All these things, they aren’t positive, good, happy. He wanted to be jealous? To fight more?

Hyunjin stares at me, mulling over my question as it floats in the air.

“Because...” he reaches for my hand. I let him hold it, but the limb remains limp.

“I haven’t felt safe since I sent you away.”

The tears keep falling but his expression is calm now. Just sad.

“I’ll never forgive myself.”

His voice is just a whisper. Once again my need to show care overpowers my hurt, and my hand grips his tightly.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

My ex’s hands fling under my arms, gripping me closer by the elbows. He looks almost angry because of my words. He could be serious, I guess. Maybe his dramatic self without a force to constantly balance it is becoming too much. But he was fine before me, just fine. He has his brothers, he has his career, his family, his passions. He just misses sex. Which also makes no sense because there’s no way he hasn’t pull-

“It is. I never knew how calm I could be, how amazingly peaceful and peacefully amazing everything could feel. I miss how your skin glows in the morning sun combing its way through my curtains, and the way you giggle at animations, and how Kkami loves you more than me, how you love the members and bake those cookies for us, your boba addiction, how you feel in my arms. I miss you.”

I��m rarely speechless, my friends will testify to that. Now though...

“Please,” Hyunjin whispers, hands sliding up my shoulders. We’re suddenly forehead to forehead. “Forgive me.”

His scent, those eyes. Whatever happens after this moment, I just know I want those pink lips on mine now.

God, I’ve missed him so much.

Intrusive thoughts win by a landslide as I lean in and press my entire being against him.

His response is imminent, he was already halfway there before I moved. The kiss is passionate, rougher than ever before. Hyunjin’s mouth tastes like americano. I never want to stop tasting it, no matter how much I actually hate coffee.

“Does that mean-” he breathes, chest heaving.

“-what I think it does?”

I shake my head sadly, burying my face in his chest, grabbing his coat. “I don’t know, Jin,” I mumble.

His chin rests on the top of my head, strong arms around my upper back. I haven’t felt this safe and encased since he last held me. I hear and feel the air going through his nose and out his mouth, an effort to calm down his breathing. His heartbeat remains fervent.

I’m sorry about being indecisive in this moment, but I’m not going to say it because I won’t be able to explain what I’m sorry about. He’s the reason we’re here. He made this mess. I’ve allowed myself to become this mess.

But kissing him feels so good. Holding him and being held by him feels so good. I don’t know how to feel. He said such awful things. What if he gets bored again? What if this is just an effort to alleviate the pain, something that could’ve just as easily been done by someone else, someone new? We just happened to run into each other out here, after all.

In the last ten minutes, we’ve hugged, held hands and kissed. I feel so confused. I also feel lighter.

“Are you free now?” I look up at him. He nods.

“Let’s go grab some boba. Let’s talk.”

Maybe it’ll turn into a new first date, who knows. If I really make him feel safe, I want him to feel like it again, at least for an evening.

#straykids #stray kids #stray kids oneshot #stray kids fanfic #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader

[embe95]

Red and Gold - Chapter I

MJ took hold of my shoulders with so much strength I was sure my bones would crack.

“Y/N! Y/N!” she practically shrieked. The fear in her voice made my eyes snap to hers. Mimicking the tears falling on her face I lowered my hands, relaxed my eyes and took a breath. The room became warmer, things fell onto the floor making various sounds between soft thuds and something definitely breaking.

“MJ oh god-” I stumbled and looked at her terrified, knowing face and the cluttered space around the queen-sized bed. My muscles were trembling from the force that just coursed through them. “I-I’m so sorry- w-what were you saying?”

Her incredulous, nervous chuckle reached my ears while my eyes scanned the damage I’d once again done. My fingers began a way-too familiar ballet, eyes gazing down at the sheets in shame. I caught a glimpse of her drying the streaks on her face, and all the spread out household things quietly and expertly made their way back to their original positions in their original condition. 

“I... uh- well I was just saying how you should talk to Pete-”

I can only assume my eyes turned golden again because MJ was promptly holding my shoulders and squeezing.

“Okay, okay!” she says with speed and defeat. Her voice has become blurred again, like a street name you can almost make out but the lines just aren’t adding up yet. “I get it, this upsets you, I understand but please Y/N... try to breathe,” her hands move to my back as she speaks and she envelopes me into a tight embrace. I lean on her, basically slump like a tired sloth. “I understand,” she whispered and her slender hand and arms felt like heat pads.

“I’m sorry,” I replied, nothing else coming to mind. As I finished my earlier chore of fixing what I’d broken, I tried to formulate sentences that explained how I felt. “It’s scary. I’m so angry that even...” a sigh. “Even hearing his name makes me lose control. I wish I could keep calm but it’s just...”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, you’re still learning,” MJ leaned back and looked at me with sympathy all over her features. She was like a drop of honey trying to coat and golden the jagged ridge that is me. She was right, but the frustration was immeasurable at this point.

“But I’m scaring you,” I sighed again, my lungs pushing out more air than they were taking in.

She shrugs and looks around. “No harm done. And yeah, I’ll admit it’s fucking terrifying while also being amazing. But that’s just what it is. Doesn’t make me any less your friend.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re getting really professional,” she says in amazement, holding a lamp that usually resides on my nightstand. “No cracks or anything!”

My smile grew more genuine at the compliment. MJ makes me so happy. Ever since I woke up six months ago and headed to Midtown she’s turned out to be more amazing by the moment.

*Six months ago*

“Hi,” a quiet but firm voice spoke next to me right after a beat-up yellow backpack had hit the vacant seat next to me. I snapped my eyes up but regretted it nearly instantly because when this beautiful woman saw my eyes the look on her face turned to a startled one.

“Hi,” I tried to smile quickly before turning my gaze back to the desk.

“Are you... uh- are you okay?”

“Wh- oh- yeah thanks, I’m... well I was sick for a while and I just got better,” I rambled to explain.

“Hey, it’s all good,” she calmed me, hands flinging upward coolly before heading for her notebook. “I’m MJ.”

“Y/N,” I replied, now smiling at my desk. My one goal for today was to introduce myself at least once. That, and not fainting. But it was only first period, so I decided to relish the feeling of accomplishing something normal.

MJ chatted with me with such an air of relaxation and warmth I overthought through every scenario of why she could be deceitful or a threat and just trying to get on my good side. How much did she know? Who was she working for? After we’d sat down for lunch and she’d introduced me to her friend Ned as “someone cool”, all my doubts towards her were directed at him instead since he seemed too amazing as well. By the time the day was nearly done and Ned asked me if I liked legos all negativity had seeped out from my brain. Stupid to feel comfortable so quickly, but I did. So harmless, so kind, so warm. So unfamiliar.

We headed to a nearby coffee shop after school. I was confused but excited to participate in “hanging out” as they called it. When MJ was in the bathroom, however, the conversation got serious.

“So, what happened to you?” Ned asked so bluntly I choked on my chai latte.

“Wh-what do you mean?” I asked quietly. My thoughts went to my eyes and pale skin immediately, nobody looked this ill without arising suspicion. My thoughts were right, identical to Ned’s. The question was, therefore, unnecessary.

“I don’t mean to be rude, I just figured you’re not completely okay based on... you know,” his hands gestured to my face, which was now wearing a strained look.

My eyes focused on the huge mug on the table. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat and took a breath.

“I uhh... I’ve been in a coma for about four months.”

The soft-featured boy couldn’t hide his surprise. “Oh! Sorry- I mean it’s great that you’re awake! Wait- what happened?”

“Ned!” MJ’s strong, deep voice rang through the cafe as she paced towards us. “What are you pestering her about?”

“Nothing!”

“Bullshit. Y/N,” she turned to me and sat down. “You don’t have to tell him a thing. He’s obviously never understood that curiosity killed the cat.

“It’s okay,” I attempted a smile.

“She looks like Mike did last year-”

“Mike is a drug addict, you dolt,” MJ groaned and slumped down next to me, glaring at Ned’s embarrassed features.

“Yeah... Sorry Y/N.”

“No, really Ned it’s fine! It’s a little hard to explain,” I tapped my nails against the table as I spoke, mentally counting down from a hundred to keep my mind from zooming back to the dark room, stone walls, metal bed, needles, bloody restraints, rubber gloves, cracking bones, black leather, beams, gags, ropes, white lights, dripping, screaming, whispering, clacking-

“Y/N!” MJ’s voice reached me as her slender hands gripped my shoulders.

I stared at her with wide eyes. I focused as hard as I could, tracing her sculpted features to make her face real instead of the place I just unintentionally returned to.

I am not there anymore. This is MJ, not HYDRA. This is a cafe, not HYDRA. This is Ned, not HYDRA. This is high school, not HYDRA.

“Sorry, sorry,” I mumbled and shakily lifted my hands from the wooden table, it had cracked in the middle. The crack looked like a lightning drawn by a six-year-old. I sighed, feeling like there were no words I could fix this with. Mr. Stark said I should wait, or be home-schooled. Mrs. Potts had agreed. Ms. Maximoff too. She’d tried the hardest, but also understood the best. The need for something other than the compound, the indescribable, immense dread of being shut in again.

Honesty could work, I thought and mentally shrugged, deciding why the hell not, they can run if they want. I can always go back to the compound and build friends like Mr. Stark.

“You- How did you do that?” Ned asked, astonished, brown eyes glued to the now-two-part table.

Another sigh. I twirled my fingers the way Ms. Maximoff had taught me, the little choreography was completely copied off her skilled movements. As a little part of my mind occupied itself with the task of repairing what was broken, my eyes speedily scanned the empty cafe and checked that the barista was focused on something other than my display of the wonders of the mind stone.

Ned gasped. MJ’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, her mouth a tight line.

“I’m... I’m like a mutant,” I mumble quietly. “I woke up from my coma about a month ago. I was asleep for four months. During those four months I was rescued from a secret military base underneath what used to be Sokovia.”

“HYDRA?” Ned whispered quickly, now staring at my timid form.

“How do you-”

“We learn about HYDRA in school,” MJ said quietly, shyly. “We’ve been taught that there’s no way of knowing whether they actually disbanded after the war.”

I couldn’t remember whether anyone at the compound had told me that American children learn about the things I went through. If they do then having people understand me will be much easier. Any new friend prospects wouldn’t back away from me and think I’m crazy- I just broke a fucking table, okay back up.

*Present day*

That day the table had seemed like a possible chasm between being acquaintances and being actual friends with MJ and Ned. But I was right, they didn’t think I was crazy. I very quickly found out that the absolute main reason for this was the fact that they were friends with Peter Parker. I.e. they were used to the different, the weird, the unfamiliar, the improbable.

Peter was an absolute cup of hot chocolate when it came to my day to day at the compound. I’d met him during the summer, on July 15th to be exact. I was outside on the roof, staring at the clouds, at the puffy, strange formations they made when gliding across the pale blue sky. Thwip. Something red and almost metallic suddenly appeared and disappeared from my view and my resting brain switched to attentive again as I sat up.

There Spiderman was, standing behind me.

“Sorry, just had to swing by to meet up with Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner about some upgrades,” his kind voice said. I remember nodding absentmindedly, more afraid of him than anything else. “Oh, hey, don’t be scared, hi, I’m-”

“Peter...” I mumbled solely, eyes still blown wide.

“Ye- no, I’m Spiderman, who is- wait how do you know?” a quick tap on the shiny emblem on his chest made his full body suit disappear in an instant. “Huh, hey, you must be Y/N, of course!”

I’d never seen a brighter smile. Slowly, we became friends. Or well, I was the slow cooker, Peter was more like an open flame, with his big heart, so full of generosity and kindness. He was awkward, like me. The only thing that ever seemed to bother him was when he felt he wasn’t being treated as he deserved or when he was treated like a child. I could relate strongly.

On my first day of senior year he was on a mission. So I’d found my way to MJ and Ned on my own. I remember how happily he laughed seeing the three of us when they returned.

It was all okay. It felt smooth, something like normal everyday probably should. Until the incident.

Now I despise him.

Something is happening inside me, something unfamiliar. Although I consider myself Parker’s friend, and on a certain level I do want to keep him that way, currently my senses just wanted to block him from view, and anytime he is around I want to either leave or make him invisible as well as inaudible to me. Every time he grins I want to smack him across the head.

“That’s called being angry,” MJ states next to me. “Maybe bitter? Probably a bit of both at this point.”

My sole focus for the entire lunch hour has been to drill a hole into Peter’s head with only my eyes.

“You know, the freaky thing is that with your powers you actually could, if you really wanted to,” MJ’s voice is both timid and soft. “Buuuuut...” she coos close to my ear. “Ya don’t. Which is terrific in a lotta ways but I think it also means you want to make up.”

I shove her hoodie-clad shoulder before getting up to empty my tray. I can feel a stare on the back of my head as MJ and I walk to the far end of the cafeteria.

“You wish,” I state solely to both MJ and Peter, knowing he could hear the whole thing.

I turn when a familiar, busy patter reaches my ear canals. Ned catches up and takes a spot walking next to me.

“What happened anyway? All I know is you guys both fell out of the window together.”

*****

“Stay here” I whisper to MJ and Ned, pushing both down under the desk by their shoulders. Deliberately staring at them both for a few seconds intently to make sure my point came across with the severity it was meant to, I pray Peter hadn’t gotten far. “Stay quiet,” I order, whispering sternly, before running towards the crash coming from my left.

Another crash follows. A window. But it’s not any of the ones now in front of me, and I can clearly make out that the falling shards take a while to come to view, which means they must’ve taken the fight higher up.

“Mr. Stark!” I whisper-yell after turning on my ear piece. “Where-”

“On my way, Goldie, relax, do you have eyes on Underoos?” Mr.Stark’s voice is clear and crisp and fills my brain through the tiny device. Never ceases to amaze me.

“No- I think- I’m heading after him right now!” I stammer and head for the stairs behind me. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the shadowed figures of my friends, shaking and holding onto each other. They’re terrified, wide eyes follow my feet for a bit before I vanish upwards. I wish they weren’t here, we thought this would just be a simple pick-up. Why would Mr. Stark- fuck. He wasn’t the one who sent the message that told us to come here.

My eyes widen in horror as the cracks on the walls keep spreading, destroying the well-constructed layers that were supposed to hold for at least 60 years I’m sure. The building’s going to collapse- MJ AND NED!

“Mr. Stark- I-I-”

“Breathe Goldie, I’m almost there.”

“The building, it’s coming down- it can’t take the impact of her blows- I have to- MJ and Ned-”

“Get your friends out. Now.”

“Yeah- Yes.”

I head for MJ and Ned, already holding up a shield of my own creation made from a bent conference room table. It floats above all three of us as we scramble down the steps. My instincts keep us from using the elevators as we pass them, and two floors down the elevator shaft explodes two feet from our heads. Knew it, I think, muscles straining to keep our shield from being the anvil that smashes us into the wall behind us.

I’m prying open the doors with MJ and Ned as the low ceiling above us begins to crumble, but just as we’re switching our technique to throwing chairs through the glass entrance, Spiderman’s limp figure creates a hole into the ceiling before hitting the linoleum floor. The three of us scream, and just before a black, flaming eight foot lance falling behind him pierces him, I pull him towards us by the closest limb available.

“Peter! Peter! Hey, look at me!”

He snaps awake and all I can hear is a growl and a few cusses before his webs shoot through the five-story chasm he created and he shoots his way back up towards their battle ground.

“PETER!” three voices shriek below him but he pays us no mind.

“Get somewhere safe you guys!” I instruct, already sprinting towards the staircase. Turning slightly, I aim my bruised palm at the glass doors and with a swift bend of my fingers it bursts. “Go!”

“Goldie, you alright?”

“Mr. Stark- I need to get to Peter!”

When I finally find them I can barely breathe and while steadying myself I watch a portal opening outside the imploding building behind the woman, who in turn seems to be gliding towards with her front to Peter and me.

“I’ll see you soon,” her voice echoes, layered, hoarse, satisfied, gaze flying from Peter to me.

“No!” Peter bellows, running with an obvious limp towards her already disappearing figure. Almost as if in slow motion, I notice his wrist turn in an all-too familiar move.

A hollow laugh vibrates in the air. As the web shoots out and sticks to the demonic woman’s leg, my body moves automatically to grip onto Peter to stop him from following her into whatever dimension she was traveling.

The portal closes with a crackling sound and severs the web while at it. Peter and I fall from the already broken window together. My arms around his torso, his around my shoulders, we spin like a grotesque, sadistic, destructive circus act.

All I remember after hitting the ground is MJ and Ned and their screams as something big falls down towards us all. Peter stops it. And Mr. Stark lifts it off of us.

******

“Yeah, no, that boulder was terrifying, there were so many moments when I was sure I was going to die!” Ned runs both hands through his shiny hair.

“It wasn’t a boulder, it was a piece of a balcony from like, twenty stories up,” MJ spouts, arms seemingly measuring it as it were right in front of us. “And yeah it was completely horrendous for sure. Insane. But you guys both saved us that day. And you should really talk about it.”

“Yeah, two heroes fighting is like... unnecessary,” Ned ponders. “It’s like a villain origin story waiting to happen. And I’d be terrified of either of you as a villain.”

The rest of the school day drags on, and I’m just as lost as always. Thank god for the concept of friendship, it makes for great tutoring.

“This was amazing, you guys, thank you so much,” I smile at make sure to look both MJ and Ned in their equally tired eyes. We’re alone in homeroom, Ned asked our teacher Ms. Goldberg if we could stay behind so they could help me catch up.

I have zero clue as to why bug-boy decided to stay, but he did, his presence like a mosquito in my ear when I’m trying to sleep. He chatted with Ned and MJ but spent the afternoon mostly buried in his own homework.

It’s time to head to the compound, both my aching lower back and churning stomach inform me. So after thanking my friends, I focus on stuffing everything back into my backpack.

“MJ said you wanted to talk,” Peter suddenly mumbles behind me. My back straightens hastily so my eyes could search for the curly-haired traitor.

There.

I scowl to my best ability and she smiles back nervously. A mouthed “sorry” does little to appease me but my attention is already gravitating to the other nervous person behind me. Ned tilts his chair slightly to gaze at Peter and I with an intimidated expression, making sure not to miss a beat.

“She wants us to talk,” I correct, turning around to meet his irritated gaze.

“What about?”

My forehead crinkles, is that supposed to be a joke? Is he serious?

“She obviously wants us to make up. I thought it was obvious?”

“Okay then,” his arms cross accompanied my a huff.

After a moment of intense staring his left hand gestures toward me, lazily throwing me the ball of responsibility, apparently I’m supposed to carry this conversation from here on out. The air around us feels heavy on my shoulders, but there is absolutely no way I am taking the turn this stubborn spider is trying to give me.

“Wait, you want me to apologize?”

He’s still quiet, only raising his unruly brows at me, frustration etched from hairline to jaw.

“We’re gonna go-”

“WHAT? But I wanna-”

“Come on Ned,” MJ hisses as they slide past us. “See you guys tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, thanks again guys!” my tone quickly glides to a friendly one, even though MJ is currently on my list. It doesn’t feel like a breach of trust, more caring and I mean... I get it... We’re both their friends so... They’d probably get rid of me instead of him though, which I understand, they’ve only known me for half a year while he’s been in their lives for-

“Well?”

The door closes with a ‘bang’. I grudgingly direct my attention back to the ‘friend’ in front of me.

“Wha- I am not apologizing!” I respond. I have nothing to be sorry about, his bones have already healed and everything!

“Oh fuck this, you’re so stubborn,” Peter groans casting his eyes towards the low ceiling. He turns swiftly to make his way to the door, grabbing his bag from the desk next to him while continuing to cuss under his breath.

I follow him to the empty hallway, ragged breath and angry, hasty steps coloring my path.

“You know what Parker, fuck you!” I yell and throw my bag on the ground. I hear a crack which usually means I’m going to have to go shopping for something. The floor tiles are clinking.

Peter halts. Shoulders stiff, he turns back around quickly and shuffles towards me, nostrils flaring. Mine are too, I feel like a dragon, but scolding anger is burning me so badly that my eyes begin to water already. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction, nor do I want to make it seem like the reaction is meant to soften him up. I am ready to have this fight, or at least that’s what I feel as he strides towards me. 30 seconds ago I wasn’t this confident.

“Oh yeah?” he hisses, getting closer by the millisecond.

I nod. My aching jaw and cracking teeth are the final barrier before the tears will spill, so I do my absolute best to ensure it does. Not. Happen.

The dirty tiles around me crack again, pieces getting smaller, new tiny chasms forming between slices.

“You think none of this is your fault Mr. Perfect?” I spit my question and gesture to his whole fuming being.

A finger rises in accusation, he bites his already bloody lip and huffs before answering.

“If you’d have let me go after her none of this would’ve happened!”

“You would be dead! As would I and probably MJ and Ned because you, Parker, would be dead!” my voice is high, pitchy due to my disbelief at how someone so smart can be so stupid.

His lips part. And close. And part. I watch, ready to counter whatever this idiot has to say for himself.

“You. Don’t. Know. That.”

“It was dangerous, you must see that! We can still stop her, the difference being that we’re still alive to help!”

“Oh- I could’ve done it! And I wouldn’t have broken an arm!” he gestured to the limb on his left which had already healed.

“Oh don’t act like you’re not bloody and broken half the time!” I almost roar.

The cracks have begun to spread, the locker doors are bending.

“I broke like twenty bones saving your sorry ass!” I continue, volume rising. The looming tears had disappeared thanks to the all-consuming annoyance and fury.

My bandages begin to tighten.

“I didn’t ask you to!”

“So that means I shouldn’t have done it? Do the people you save ask for it? Are they this ungrateful too?”

“I COULD HAVE STOPPED HER!” he screams and steps closer. His steps sound like earthquakes. A droplet of scolding spit hits my face which I wipe of with so much anger I nearly scratch myself.

The room is turning red. The locker doors creak as they crumble. Peter’s eyes suddenly leave mine and he looks to his left towards the sound. His gaze travels around the hallway, demeanor switching.

“Y/N?” he mumbles quizzically, with a frail voice, frightened, looking at the floor tiles turning into a mosaic with uneven, tiny pieces.

Only my nostrils allow my breath to pass, the upper row of my teeth draws blood from my lower lip. My muscles shake.

The room is on fire.

Peter’s head turns slowly. His eyes are scared. Anger gone.

A hand reaches out to my cheek, I feel the shiver and warmth it emits.

“Y/N? Please, breathe,” a far away voice calls for me. I see Peter’s figure bounce around me like rubber, he won’t stay still and white, silky webs mix in with the flames. Two erratic heartbeats. The hand is still on my cheek, now accompanied by another on the other side of my nose.

“Listen to my voice. Breathe. You can control it. I know you can. Breathe. Focus on me. I’m here. You can control this.”

My knees buckle and I’m heading for the broken floor before Peter yanks me back up, a strong limb around my waist, the other around my shoulder, both heading for my back to circle me. The spider isn’t bouncing around the burning room anymore.

Peter sits me down, spine against the cold wall, head towards the metal lockers that now resemble crumbled up homework. He’s next to me, sitting close, an arm still around me.

“You’re doing great. Just breathe, I’m here.”

I nod to signal I can hear him now, but my eyes are tracing all the cracks I created. I wish I could fight like a normal person. Ms. Maximoff doesn’t split the compound in half every time she loses her temper.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

I take a moment to register Peter’s apology. I’m not sure if he means he’s sorry because he believes loud volume triggers me and now the hallway looks like Chernobyl, or because his arguments were wrong.

“I just want you to live,” I maunder, the syllables clear in my head though I’m not sure if there’s any sounds coming out. My sweaty forehead meets my hard knees as a sob finally makes it out of my body. My quivering fingers begin the routine once again, listening to the rubble and floating grounds of tile shift and begin their travels to their original places. I don’t even have to look anymore, my body and brain know what they need to get done, so another part of me is free to cry. I’m too tired to not cry. Soon I’ll be too tired to cry.

“I know... I know why you did it. I just...” Peter sighs. “I just feel like you and everybody else thinks I’m not strong enough or good enough or brave enough and I... well I guess I-I’m afraid that you’re right.”

My frazzled head snaps up so I can look at him.

“Peter-”

“I just wanted to prove myself! Sorry, sorry, go on.”

“Peter. You are incredible. In so... so many ways. But you could’ve died on your own, there was no one there to help us.”

Peter watches the hall seemingly repairing itself, the scene almost resembles Dr. Strange using the time stone. His mouth is slightly ajar, jaw relaxed, all focus on the event that should be impossible.

“I promise we’ll find her and stop her,” I continue calmly after a few sniffles, watching the same tiny events unfold around us. I had no idea it was already dark outside. A minute ago the whole world was an inferno to me, so the realization isn’t really a surprise. “Can we please just not fight anymore? I-I can’t take it.”

Peter probably notices the crack in my voice. His arms sneaks back around my slumped shoulders, head tilted against the one closer to his body.

“Hey, we’re not fighting anymore. I’m sorry for yelling, I’m sorry for snapping at you and ignoring you all week.”

“I’m sorry for yelling too. And I’m sorry for snapping at you and ignoring you,” I gulp and smile slightly. I feel my nose crinkle in response to my attempt at being funny.

Peter chuckles, my body shakes in time with his.

“I think this is the longest we’ve been alone since this summer.”

“Yeah? Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Pretty soon I think I’ll be able to fight longer as well, you know, without turning our school into a war zone,” I grin sarcastically, annoyed at myself, speeding up the surrounding chore.

“I hope you will.... but I also hope I’m not the one you try it out with.”

“I’m sorry-”

“No no that’s not what I meant, just that-”

“Peter, come on, it’s fucking terrifying,” I groan, getting up and using both hands to make a feeble attempt at dusting of my hoodie. “It’s scary to me too!”

The final piece of a tile next to Peter’s left foot slides into its place with a clink. A small, final creak echoes from the locker closest to homeroom. Like it never happened.

“Well, I mean yeah it’s kinda scary I guess,” Peter mumbles under his breath, following me to a standing position and then running a hand through his sweaty curls. “But I really meant that I don’t wanna fight with you, I think we have enough on our plates without being mad at each other you know?”

I like how he talks about us. We sound like a team. Or a part of a team. I watch his hands dust off the jersey that could’ve used a wash even before my impromptu dust gusts, and then his eyes come up to meet mine. “What do you think?”

“You’re right,” I nod softly, tilting my head. “We shouldn’t fight. But we should eat.”

“Right, right MJ told me you seem to always get hungry after you... you know.”

I laugh, feeling a sense of surprise and amusement. “It’s probably true. It uh- well it kind of drains me in a way I guess.”

“Does that happen to Ms. Maximoff as well?” Peter inquires, apparently genuinely interested.

“I think so. She’s much more powerful than I am though, so I wouldn’t be surprised if that also meant she could take the whole thing better. I’ll learn someday. But right now-”

“It’s time to eat.”

As we make our way down the stone steps of the big, bulky building, Peter turns around, offering me his hand. My raised eyebrows cause him to smile so warmly that my face muscles respond in kind.

“I realized I’ve never taken you swinging,” he says softly, excitement coating the words. My demeanor shifts entirely and the hand that was instinctively reaching out for his stiffened and fell back close to my hip.

“Well...” I reminisce. “We have kind of been flying-”

“No, nope, doesn’t count,” Peter says sternly, nose crinkling at the painful memory. “We have to head for the compound anyway!” he rambles as I speed past him, ferociously shaking my head. There is no way that that is safe. “Come on! Don’t you trust me?” he jumps in front of me as he finishes the slightly hurt question.

“I do but-”

He pulls me around the corner gently, looking around to check if anyone can see us. I clock a camera in the upper left side of the front door that’s pointed towards us, but like someone who has done this before, Peter backed up against the white wall before his suit covered him as if he grew a new skin in seconds. Even with his covered face I could feel the enthusiasm beaming from his frame towards mine. How can I say no?

The truth is I’m not really scared of flying, of heights, speed or any of the stuff that makes sense. It’s the position of his hands and our bodies have to assume when we sail across New York.

“Peter, I don’t know...” I had to look down to hide my embarrassment.

“Hey, hey, it’s me, come on!” he chuckles and holds out both arms, of which I can only see his fingers. A soft gale moves my hair around and my hoodie puffs in and out, reminding me of my silly fear. I am not too heavy... I am not too heavy....

“Okay!” I try a smile. “But-” I throw up my arms to parallel his. “Promise not to drop me?”

I can practically smell the cockiness wafting from him as Peter gestures to himself. “Hey, who you talking to, huh? Come on!”

“And careful with-”

“Oh yeah, yeah of course, I’ll just.... here, yeah,” he snakes an arm around my midsection so slowly it feels like an inspection of my circumference. In a way, it is, since the spider is maneuvering to avoid the bandages around my torso.

I giggle nervously when he instructs me to put my arms around his neck. Peter seems to pause at the sound. The way every inch of him is covered makes the situation feel odder to me, he feels more distant, more like a celebrity or figurine here to give me a tour of New York from above.

The yank takes me by surprise, which annoys me for a hot second because I knew to expect it. The little yelp that escapes my mouth amuses him, I deduce by the quick rumble in his chest. But oh, this is incredible; the luminous moments, unending tunnel of wind, the unrelenting speed, the carousel in my lower stomach. The sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through my veins could sustain me for years. The feeling is sensational. Peter is sensational.

The ceiling of the compound has never, ever felt sturdier. In fact, no floor or ground of any kind has.

“There, way faster than a bus,” both of Peter’s fists bump his hip as he poses heroically.

“That’s for sure,” I huff, clearing the hair from my face with an incredulous smile. Once again he pauses his movements. “What?”

“Wh-Wh- Nothing!” he stutters but then leans closer, white lenses fixed on my face. My brows furrow and my head tilts with his. “Y/N, your eyes!” Peter exclaims. Suddenly the subtle golden notes blurring my vision make more sense, it wasn’t the streetlights blinding me, but the mind stone, being its usual mysterious self being all up in my emotions like the reliable mystery it is.

“Oh-” I sigh and close my eyelids for a moment. Peter’s close to me in two, quick strides, covered hands soothingly squeezing my shoulders.

“It’s okay... breathe. Did it scare you? I’m sorry, it was too fast, I should’ve listened but-”

“Peter!” I snap my eyes open and latch onto his wrists that still hold me steady even though there’s no need. “Calm. Down. I’m fine.”

My gaze travels back the route we took to try and make out if I’d caused any kind of damage if my powers really had been “active” the entire swing. I can’t help but stare at the strange formation in front of me.

“Huh,” Peter’s breathy voice is both amused and surprised. “I thought there were... more... than usual.”

We both stare at the strange architectural formation of cranes that decorates the route from us to where the first tower blocks come to view.

“Heck, you can come swing with me any time... Now, come on. Let’s get something to eat.”

******

A/N: Thank you for reading <3 I haven’t written in so long, let alone published since my high school years, and I just felt like I needed a passion project to balance other shit. Let’s see where it goes!

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