#genuinely just stepped over me in doing the meal saturday so i walked up to ask abt it/plan and they were like

[munamania]

i genuinely think i should get a free pass not to come to class anymore bc of the hostile environment steve creates for me

#this weekend. omfg. #genuinely just stepped over me in doing the meal saturday so i walked up to ask abt it/plan and they were like #yeah im doing that and i was like ok great communication there so what time is pickup and they shrugged said idk and turned away #later made a point to serve everyone their subs except me. they just awkwardly stood there and made me be like ok so which one is which #and just generally um yeah were fucking annoying. oh also not to mention the bright red weal on their neck #in lydias words ok h*artst*pper realness... w the polo and the vans... #rlly forcing myself to breathe and not perceive them. lest i get mean #abby talks

[jumblejen]

We Were Always Going to End Up Together - Ch 18

Suptober 22, Day 18: Tattoos

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/113095033

(Or read from the beginning: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/106051008)

“Well friends that was an excellent meal,” stated Gabe from where he lounged in the back seat.

“Glad you enjoyed it,” said Dean. It had been a wonderful weekend. Friday was mellow and full of comfort. Today, had been great, hanging out with Cas. They had met up with Gabe for dinner at a restaurant on the other side of town and were now making their way back to Cas’ farmhouse.

“Is it just me, or are you driving very slowly?” asked Cas.

Dean grimaced. “That temperature drop they predicted seems to have hit a little early. Roads are kind of patching over with ice.”

“Should we stop somewhere?”

“No good place to stop. And it won’t get better until they salt the damn roads or the sun comes up again. And since it’s the Saturday after Thanksgiving, I’m guessing that we are out of luck on them sending plows out.”

They drove in a tense silence for the next few miles, even Gabriel opting for quiet in the face of icy roads. It made Dean’s skin itch.

“Guys, it’s not that bad. I’m just being careful. It stopped raining, so it won’t get that much worse. It’s not like it’s snowing so hard I can’t see where I’m going.”

“I’m sure you’d get us home safe no matter what,” added Cas, smiling at Dean in reassurance.

“That was too sweet, even for me,” grumbled Gabe.

Mood lightened, they kept driving. It wasn’t too long before they saw a car on the side of the road, flashers on and the hood up. Dean slowed down even more, pulling in behind the stopped car and throwing his own flashers on.

“I’m gonna see if they need help.”

Putting Baby in park, Dean climbed out of the car, leaving her running. At first he thought the car might be abandoned, but as he rounded the front of the car, a very petite red-head came into view, peering frustratedly at the engine.

“Excuse me,” started Dean, “Do you need help?”

She turned toward him as though she had been expecting him, a grim smile on her face. “The blasted machine stopped working and they say it’s going to be two hours before the tow truck can come,” she said in a Scottish accent.

“Sorry to hear that. I know a little something about cars. Mind if I take a look? See if I can get you on the road a little faster than that?”

“Thank you. Yes.”

Dean turned the flashlight on his phone and began assessing the situation. It didn’t take long to spot the problem, but it wasn’t a quick fix. At least not on the side of the road in the dark. He sighed and turned back towards the woman.

“Sorry, but I’m pretty sure your fan belt is busted. Car’ll have to go for repairs.”

“Great. Just my luck. Well. Thanks for trying I suppose.”

“Look, I know a guy who has a garage just a little way from here. Lemme see what I can do.”

The woman’s smile gentled and grew more genuine. “Why thank you dearie. I would very much appreciate that.”

Dean walked a few steps away from the car and dialed a number he hadn’t in much too long. It didn’t take long before the gruff voice answered. “Heya Bobby.”

“Dean! Been awhile since you called.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry about that.”

“You in some sort of trouble?”

“Nah. Was driving home and saw a car stopped by the side of the road. Needs a tow. Service is going to be at least two hours, what with the ice and all. Any chance you can make it sooner?”

“I don’t have anyone driving tonight, and if I did, they’d already be out I’m sure. Also, you may not know this, but I can’t really do the job myself anymore.”

Dean was quiet for a bit. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah it’s that old spinal injury. Can’t get up in that thing anymore.”

“Alright. Well, we can wait with her.”

“You could do it.”

“What?”

“Still got your CDL?”

“Yeah. Seemed easier than letting it lapse and having to do it all over again otherwise.”

“Then you come get the truck and then go get the car. I’m here at the shop doing the books, so I can let you in.”

“You sure Bobby?”

“Course I’m sure.”

“Alright. I’ll be over in a bit unless this lady would rather wait the two hours.”

“Just make sure she’s cancels the other job.”

“Will do.” Dean turned back to the woman. “Not sure if you heard any or all of that, but I can go get a tow truck and get you taken care of, if you want.”

“That would be just lovely, dear.”

“You can wait here or come with us to get the truck. It’s just a few miles down the road.”

“I think I’ll come with you. It’s quite chilly out and it’s not like my car is working enough for heat.”

“I’m Dean, by the way,” Dean said over his shoulder as they carefully made their way back to Baby.

“Rowena.”

Dean opened the back door. “Scoot over Gabriel.” He closed the door after Rowena got in and then got in the front seat. “Cas, Gabriel, this is Rowena. Her car needs a new fan belt, which means a tow. So we’re going to drive to Singer Auto Repair and then I’m going to drive a tow truck back here to pick her car up and take it back to Bobby’s.”

“My hero,” Rowena said.

“Pretty sure he belongs to my cousin in the front seat there,” snarked Gabriel.

“Mmmm. They make quiet a beautiful pair.”

Dean blushed and focused on the road, tuning out everything else going on inside the car except for Cas’ hand sitting warm and possessive on his thigh.

A few minutes later they were pulling into Bobby’s. The man himself came out as Dean put the car in park. Dean got out of the car and took the keys from Bobby.

“You can leave the car in bay 3, that one’s empty. I’m headed home myself.”

“So just lock up on my way out? Where do you want me to leave the keys.”

“You know where they go ya idgit.”

Dean turned back to the open door of the car as Bobby waved and walked off. “Okay. I’m going to drive back now.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Cas, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“I’m not going with you,” said Gabe with a smirk.

“Do you need me to come? It’s quite comfortable here,” said Rowena from the backseat.

“Nah. Cas and I can go. Just give me your keys and we’ll be back in a bit. Just be sure to cancel the other truck you called. Wouldn’t want them to make the trip for nothing.”

Keys handed off, Cas and Dean climbed into the cab of the tow truck and set off back the way they came. The roads are still patchy with ice, but traffic was thin and it didn’t take long to get back to Rowena’s car. Cas stood in the cold while Dean hooked up Rowena’s car. It’s been awhile since he’s done this work, but he’d done it enough before that relying on muscle memory kept the process moving in the right direction.

“It was really sweet of you to do this for Rowena,” said Cas while Dean worked on getting everything hooked up.

“Never did like ignoring something when I knew I could help.”

“But calling your friend and driving the truck yourself…that’s a lot to do for someone you just met.”

Dean looked at Cas. “Yeah it is. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you should.”

“When we were growing up. Sam and me, well. There were lots of times we could have used a bit of help. Most of the time, we were ignored. Sometimes it was worse than that. Like the time this guy caught me shoplifting peanut butter and bread. He coulda done a lot of things, but he insisted on calling the cops.”

“For stealing food?”

“Yup. Got sent to a boys home for a bit as a result. I actually really liked the home as it turns out. But I couldn’t help thinking later that he had other choices. He could’ve just taken the things back and kicked me out of the store. He could’ve traded them for a little manual labor. Hell, he could’ve just given me the food. But instead he called the cops.”

“That’s awful, Dean.”

“Yeah. It’s not the most awful thing, but it taught me a really important lesson. That I absolutely should help if I can. We had so little back then, and no real way to make our situation any better. And so many people that crossed our paths could have made so much of a difference with very little effort. I guess there’s always reasons not to help. But I think we should try anyway.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you right now?”

Dean smiled and walked over to Cas. “Yeah.”

Cas kissed him gently on the lips and then on each cheek. “I’m sorry more people didn’t help you.” He kissed his nose and then his neck. “And I’m sorry if anyone in your life has ever discouraged you from helping others.” Cas leaned back and held Dean’s gaze. “I think I might love you, Dean Winchester.”

Dean’s ears heated up as he blushed furiously. “Yeah, well. I think I might love you too, Cas.”

Grinning from ear to ear they separated so that Dean could finish hooking up the car. A short time later they were back in the tow truck and headed back to Bobby’s, goofy grins stretching from ear to ear. Dean felt like there was champagne in his veins, bubbling up with happiness. Cas loved him. He loved Cas. It felt like one of the truest things he had ever said.

Pulling the car into bay 3 and then unhooking it and putting the tow truck back where it had been originally parked to another little while. Dean hoped that Gabe and Rowena were getting along. Cas and Dean walked hand in hand back to Baby.

The windows were steamed up. Dean’s smile slipped as he noticed that Baby was moving a little. Anger rose up as he wrenched open the back door to reveal Gabe and Rowena locked in a passionate embrace, clothes askew, hair mussed. Dean tried not to focus on the tattoos that were now peeking out of Rowena’s disarranged clothing.

“What the hell Gabe?” yelled Dean.

“What? We’re all adults.”

“You do not get to treat Baby this way.”

“Oh don’t get your panties in a wad, Dean-o.”

“Seriously.”

“Boys,” interjected Rowena, who had hastily righted her buttons and was making attempts to straighten her hair. “Sorry Dean. One thing just led to another and before you know it…”

“Nope. That’s enough. Really. Anyway, your car is safely in bay 3 over there. Here’s the card for the garage. If you call tomorrow morning you can make arrangements to have the repairs done here or for another tow. Now, do you want a ride home?”

“Thank you Dean. Truly.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“Still. It’s not every day someone is as generous as you.”

“So do you want a ride…”

“Och, I’ve called for a car. Surprisingly, the rideshare place said it would only be a few minutes. So if you don’t mind waiting with me until they come? As a safety precaution.”

“Of course not.” Dean shut the back door and then got in the front. Cas had already gotten in.

Rowena was correct. It was not more than five minutes when another car pulled into the lot.

She scooted towards the door before turning back to Dean. “Do I owe you anything? For the tow I mean.”

“Bobby will work all that out with you later.”

“Surely I should pay you for your time and effort…”

Dean smiled and turned towards Rowena. “Really, it’s fine. You just get yourself home safe, okay?”

“Alright.”

“Hey Dean-o, I think this is my stop as well.”

“What?”

“Cas, you don’t mind do you?”

“Mind what,” asked Cas.

“If I escort this lovely lady home.”

Cas and Dean exchanged looks. “No, Gabriel. It’s fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Cool. Adios amigos.”

Gabriel and Rowena scooted out of the car, closing the back door sharply. Dean and Cas sat there until the other car pulled away and then a little longer.

“Is this how you expected the evening to end?” asked Cas.

“Nope! Really don’t want to dwell on it either. Poor Baby.”

Cas squeezed Dean’s thigh in sympathy. “They were still clothed at least.”

“Yeah, I don’t ever want to see more of your brother, that’s for sure. On the plus side, we get to have the whole house to ourselves tonight.”

“Mmmm. I think we can find lots of ways to enjoy that.”

Dean smiled in anticipation. It might take them longer than usual to get home, thanks to the ice, but when they did… well Dean did have lots of ideas about how to spend the time.

#destiel #suptober22 #fanfic #tattoos #dean to the rescue

[spotofimagines]

Car Sick P1 ~ Dominic Calvert-Lewin

A/N: This is sort of carried on from this blurb I wrote a while ago, bc I loved the idea and wanted to write more for it, you should probs read that first to catch the vibes. This is for @footballffbarbiex writing challenge based on tv and film. I used this storyline from Modern Family with Gloria and Jay. Once again, no real timeline with this, just made up scenarios. I struggled with the next bit of this so I asked you how you wanted it and you chose 2 parts, here's the 1st. Enjoy :)

Warnings: pregnancy, kids, step parents, injury mention - reader is female

Summary: You thought you were just feeling car sick, turns out it's something else...

gif by @hishairmyweakness - gif by @delstroyer

You were dropping your daughter off at Dele's for a long weekend since he didn't have a match or training to attend. After she had squeezed the biggest hug out of her dad and trudged dirt in his hallway, she perched on the sofa with her ipad and juicebox, leaving you and Dele to catch up.

Dele had been showing you how he redecorated his kitchen so you accepted a drink and decided to stay a little while. Plus you figured the news you had for him should rather be said in person than over the phone.

"Hey, Del, I have something to tell you." You said nervously, leaning your hands on the kitchen island. He turned around and took a sip of the drink he just poured as he walked closer to the other side of the island opposite you. "Go ahead." He replied, his eyebrows knitted in concern at your worried tone. 

"Well, remember when we stopped by last Friday since you were playing on her birthday?" you recollected and he nodded along. "And I had one of those herbal teas and a tablet because I was feeling car sick?" "Yeah..." he trailed off quietly, putting his drink on the counter between you. "Turns out I wasn't car sick," he frowned in confusion and looked even more lost than he did a moment ago. 

You fiddled your fingers together and took a deep breath, steadying yourself. You knew you could trust Dele with absolutely anything. You'd been close since you were teenagers, grew closer when you started dating and left nothing in the way when you had a baby. Being so young when it happened meant a lot of things turned against you, a lot of people with a lot of opinions trying to dictate your lives and yet you stuck it through. You haven't been together romantically for a while, however your relationship with him never faultered, your connection of trust staying strong.

But it didn't make this any easier to say. It wasn't hard to see when Dele got hit by moments of gloom at the sight of the mini family you were creating with Dominic. While your split years ago was amicable, and neither of you would rekindle that flame again, more than happy with your close friendship, Dele couldn't stop that jealous bubble rising in him when he saw your daughter enjoy spending time with Dom as much as she does with him. Blame his stubbornness but facing change wasn't his strongest suit. This news was going to be a big step away from that picturesque life you both once envisioned together and you desperately didn't want it to drive a wedge between you nor push Dele away. You had settled into a good rhythmic system with him that suited your daughter and your schedules, you'd hate to tarnish that in any way.

So, yes, you hesitated to tell him.

You sighed and picked at your nails, needing to just get it out before it drove you crazy.

"I'm pregnant." 

Dele's eyes went wide and his mouth opened a little from shock, the frown lines that creased his forehead disappearing. His breath was taken away. Nothing prepared him to hear those words come from your mouth and know that he wasn't involved. It was bound to happen but it still took him by surprise.

He tilted his head as he looked at you, nervously twiddling your thumbs like you always did, and it only took a few seconds for a smile to slowly grow on his face. "That," he cleared his throat and met your eyes with sincerity, "that's great. Congratulations." 

He scuffed his socked feet along the floor as he walked round the counter to wrap you in a warm hug. He squeezed your shoulder and gave your cheek a quick kiss when he pulled away, a genuine smile on his face. No, he wasn't involved this time, but he knew how amazing it was to experience pregnancy and he was certain Dominic would take to it greatly.

"What did Dom say?" He asked, leaning over to grab his glass and take another drink. Your breath caught in your throat and that made Dele side-eye you mid sip. "You haven't told him, have you?" He questioned gently, and you shook your head.

Now it was his turn to sigh. 

The glass clinked loudly in the quiet room when he put it back down, and he had a ton of questions he could have asked you and a ton of things he could have told you to do that he thought was right, but it wasn't his place. Not anymore. So he took a moment to think whilst you rubbed your hands down your front to straighten out your t-shirt again. 

"Are you going to?" You tutted and looked back up at him incredulously. "Of course I am Del, think it'll be pretty hard to miss when I'll be bursting through my clothes!" You joked and he held his hands up in defence as he chuckled, realising it was a stupid question.

"Are you nervous, then?" He tried again, this time opting for something more reasonable. "More nervous than when I told you for the first time." You admitted. Dele whistled lowly and shook his head with a laugh. 

The state you were in a bit under 7 years ago now when you told him you were going to have his child, it was something else. He still insists he hasn't seen someone so frantic, before or since. He could only imagine what was coming Dominic's way.

---

There were plenty of reasons for you to believe Dom would be happy to be a dad. He adored his young brother and truly enjoyed spending time with him when he was back home. He was thoughtful and attentive with all the people he knew so you know he'd be the same, multiplied by a million, when it came to a child that depended on him.

But the way he cared for your daughter above anyone else proved to you, without a doubt, how good he would be. Dom wasn't her biological father, but that never once stopped him loving her the way she deserved. Dom made sacrifices when he needed to and even when he didn't. He'd stay awake if she couldn't sleep, he'd ask to see her on facetime when he was travelling and he always asked her about school, he even did the afternoon pick up with you when he got the chance. If Dom would be such an amazing figure in the life of a little girl he had no obligation to be a part of, just imagine what he'd be like with his own child.

You wouldn't question his want or excitement to have kids with you at any time, having spoken about it before. 

Any time except now.

Dom hadn't been himself the last week, and justifiably so. He picked up a knee injury in the Merseyside derby last Saturday that resulted in him hopelessly limping off the pitch with the physio under his arm to hold him up. A torn ACL was the conclusion after a couple hours in the hospital. While an injury was never welcome, a minimum six months out was tough to take. But with the upcoming England tournament he'd been called up for that he will now have to miss, alongside the rest of the Premier League season, it shattered him. His club and his country had important matches this year and it killed him to not be able to help secure some much needed wins for them.

Most of Sunday was spent doting on him, helping him relax and alleviating both his physical and mental pain, offering comfort through his favourite meals and hours of cuddles, something your daughter happily assisted with. 

However, by the time Monday rolled around, his rest was stifled by your daughter's birthday party.

Despite how often you'd sat him back down, Dom wasn't used to sitting all day and had helped you decorate the house whilst your girl was at school. The balloons were littered in the front room, the buffet snacks laid out on the dining table, and the banners Dom had pinned on the ceiling blew from the gentle breeze coming in through the back door. 

So by the time you pulled into the drive with a car full of young girls eager for sugar, Dom was working on half a bar of energy already. Yet he played along with the party activities and managed to dance, or more shuffle, to some Disney songs on his crutches inbetween sneaking mini sausage rolls and chocolate biscuits. 

You could see him getting more tired as each kid left, but "she only turns 6 once, right?", so he persisted on keeping the party lively until your daughter was knocked out in bed, out of her party dress but still wearing the new bracelet she got from Grandma. 

You trailed behind Dom with two cups of tea as he hobbled toward the sofa, barely managing to keep himself up despite it only being 9pm. He dropped heavily on the cushions in the corner and let his crutches fall on the carpet, not caring where they landed as long as they stayed within reach. The sigh that left him could have knocked down a tree. 

Before you got comfortable, you put his mug on the table and put a random sitcom on the TV. Dom's eyes were closed and his legs were stretched out as best as they could be, his injured knee up on the couch in front of him with a cushion underneath and an ice pack held on top.

"I'm telling you, I feel way too old for this." He muttered just loud enough to hear. "You're only 24." You chuckled a little into your tea at his complaint.

"Yeah," he rolled his head your way, hair falling on his face, "but running after her makes me feel 70, she knocks me out," he spoke quietly but with the last tints of energy in his tone, "and with this peg leg too you gotta change that to 80."

You smiled at him sympathetically and loosely linked your fingers with his, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand as let his eyes close again.

He was joking, it was obvious. But a niggling part of your brain told you that he wasn't just being dramatic. 

Admittedly it was a tiring evening with your daughter's friends running around, but with the lack of energy left in Dom, how could a baby be added to that scenario and it not be an issue? Maybe it was the wrong time. Maybe, no definitely, getting pregnant when Dom wasn't shrouded by an injury, when he didn't have frustration on top of frustration on his shoulders, when there wasn't a hyperactive 6 year old that needed attention too - that would definitely be a better time to have a baby. But that wasn't what life had handed you. Life was a little more complicated in its ways than to give you an easy run, you knew that well enough by now. 

What concerned you most was how Dom would handle it. Whilst he had picked up parenting duties well over the past couple years, he hadn't been there when your daughter was a baby, nor had he seen how tough it was on you at the time. The thought of raising another was scaring you, so it would surely terrify Dom, doing it for the first time. 

Even before the time came to hold them in your arms, being pregnant was no easy deal. So how could he possibly handle the stress of an upcoming baby, the stress of having to look after 2 kids in the future, the stress of a cranky pregnant girlfriend, the stress of prepping the house and himself, all whilst he's hobbling on crutches and having to watch his teammates from the sidelines too? 

You sipped your tea and let the TV fill the room as your brain ran overdrive with questioning thoughts, sitting silent next to your boyfriend who's head seemed full of only the sleep he was dreaming of, oblivious to the changes that were coming his way.

#dominic calvert lewin #dominic calvert lewin imagine #dominic calvert lewin x reader #dele #dele alli #dele imagine #dele x reader #football #football imagine #my fic #oneshot #my og post

[cafeacademia]

Beyond Words

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Draco creates himself something to chase a feeling he can’t explain and it’s only when he shows you, his best friend, that he understands what that beautiful feeling in his heart is.

Warnings: None, it’s just fluff and soft Draco, some kissing, friends to lovers (I think that’s a given with me now 😅)

Word count: Approx 2500

Masterlist

A/N: Hi loves!! This is my fic for my darling @fuckingdraco​​‘s 1K writing challenge! My prompt was “Take my hand. Just trust me.”, it’s highlighted in bold in the fic! As well as that, this fic was heavily inspired by my favourite song by Fleurie - Explosions of Grandeur, I tried to emulate the feeling this song gives me into this piece! Anyway, enjoy!! 💕💕

The taglist is open, please send me an ask if you’d like to be added!

Draco would never admit it, not to his peers or to his family, but he had always had a love for books. It wasn’t just a story that he craved, it was the feeling of escape he found between the pages, that whenever he opened a book and smelled the aged parchment and ran his fingers over the printed words, he found himself transported somewhere else.

It was magic in itself, the way it made him feel, the way it allowed him to find himself in a rich world, filled with things that brought him happiness and love and anguish and fear, all in the best ways. Because the best part about a good book was that when he was finished reading it, Draco felt the most wonderful feeling, like he had been on the adventure of a lifetime while sitting curled up in a squishy old armchair in front of the fire.

But now, as he gently closed the book in his hands, it was not a regular storybook. It was not the work of a seasoned author or some kind of documentation of something discovered in the wizarding world, nor was it a diary or a journal. It was something far more special than all of those things combined.

Draco had searched for a way to create his own magical feeling, one he wanted to find whenever he was immersed in a book. And soon, he had found his answer in the restricted section of the library one rainy, blustery Thursday night while Filch was too busy corralling some first years back to their common rooms during the mid evening.

It was everything he had hoped for when he skimmed over the words on the page. Ideas immediately coming to him as he read deeper and deeper into the wonderful discovery he had made. And he thought at the time, that there was not a single person in this world that he would ever feel he could share this with.

But he had not accounted for you, who somehow, through your persistent kindness and sweet nature, had managed to soften him and become someone who stood at his side near constantly. And it was not long before he decided that you were definitely the person he wanted to share his hand crafted secret with. You had melted his heart, warmed him with every smile you gave him and made his eyes gleam with love whenever he cast his gaze on you. It was impossible for him not to love you when you were someone so sweet and kind and genuine. He felt he could be himself, that around you he could be real and for the first time in his life, he felt a little bit of that magical feeling he got when he opened a book whenever he was around you.

And slowly, as he spent hours each night writing on the blank pages of his book, he began to realise what that feeling was that he craved and without even realising, he was capturing it between the pages of his book.

“You’ll come with me this evening, won’t you?” Draco asked after class as he plucked your books right out of your hands to carry them himself as he walked with you towards your next class together. “Of course I will, I’d never miss a night with you.” You said with a sweet smile and Draco almost melted on the spot. How was it that his best friend was so sweet and so endearing? And how was it that Draco was struggling to find the right words to explain that he loved you? It was not as if he was not well learned and well read. He was often poetic with his words when he was alone, but he was not used to speaking those words out loud to someone he cared for.

“Good, I have something to show you.” Draco glanced over at you, watching your reaction. “Ooh and what would that be?” You asked. “Wouldn’t you like to know, princess?” He said teasingly with a smirk. “It’s a surprise, I promise,” He paused as you both approached the classroom door, the Slytherin leaning in close to you. “It’ll be worth the wait.” He spoke quietly, something about the lower octave of his voice, the way he looked at you and winked made you feel something. Merlin, if only he knew what he did to you.

And that evening, after you had finished your meal in the Great Hall, Draco was quick to nearly sweep you off your feet, the way he gently took your hand in his with such a mysterious, yet endearing smile on his lips as he led you along to his prefect dormitory.

It was common for you both to spend most Friday and Saturday nights in each other’s company for a few hours. Sometimes you’d do homework together, other times you’d spend hours chatting, playing wizard chess and thinking up plans for your lives after Hogwarts together, side by side. It never occurred to you, despite the love you both held for one another, that perhaps you were meant to be together. That perhaps your plans to be at the other’s side for as long as you could, would not just be as friends, but something more. And as you spent more of your time with Draco, you began to realise that kind of connection with him was something you craved.

“So what’s this thing you want to show me?” You asked as you dropped onto his bed, the soft dark green sheets creasing beneath you. Draco looked away from you towards his desk hesitantly. He knew you would not judge him, but he feared it nonetheless. “It’s this.” Draco replied, gripping a book in his hands and lifting it up so you could take a look. “A book?” You asked, meeting his eyes with an inquisitive look. “It’s not an ordinary book.” Draco said, holding his index finger up as he pushed his chair away from the desk before he laid the book out on the ebony wooden surface.

“What is it, then?” You asked, slowly standing up and peering over at it. “Come, I’ll show you.” Draco waved you over. As you stepped across his bedroom floor to stand at his side, Draco reached over and opened the cover of the book to reveal the first page. Property of D.M. was written in beautiful cursive. You had only ever seen him use handwriting like that when he wrote something with great care and meaning. You had a few letters you cherished dearly that you had received from Draco throughout your holidays in that beautiful cursive.

“Darling, take my hand.” Draco spoke softly, holding out his hand for you to take, the name he used for you giving you butterflies. You looked at him with an air of curiosity, but the unknown of what he was showing you seemed to make you feel on edge. “Just trust me, love, I promise you’ll love it.” The sincerity of his voice was already enough to comfort and convince you, but the way he looked at you with such a kind, sweet look in his eyes told you it was okay.

“Alright.” You nodded, gently placing your hand in his, the ashen haired boy giving you a soft smile before he turned his attention back to his book, raising his wand and pressing it against the pages. “In libro.” He muttered it so softly you almost didn’t catch it because as soon as the words left his lips, you felt the most wonderful sensation. You were sucked in, feeling weightless and in less than a second, what had been Draco’s bedroom was a flurry of soft pages, yellowed and stained and old, the gentle flutter of parchments coupled with the musty smell of old books and antique wood polish made you feel like you really were inside of a book.

And it all passed in a matter of seconds, because as fast as you had recognised the smells filling your senses, a world had begun to materialise around you. Soft, dark scribbles in Draco’s perfect cursive handwriting formed the outlines of things as if they were being written before you, the words blurring into fully formed lines, colour filling the environment around you, texture and depth filling in each detail as a soft breeze brushed through your hair, lifting the edges of your clothing, sweeping over your fingers entwined with Draco’s.

It was so real, everything around you was intricately detailed and wonderfully formed as if you had been taken to a location in the real world, when really, you knew you were between the pages of a book. It felt new but at the same time it felt as if you had known it all along and as you looked over at Draco with a look of amazement about you, you realised it was the familiarity you had when you met someone you felt like you had known for years, much like you had with Draco when you had first met him.

Taking in a deep breath, it was something ethereal, something otherworldly yet so real, the air feeling as crisp and as full bodied as the fresh air you breathed in each morning through the open windows in your dormitory. The grass beneath your feet was just as soft and springy as the grass in the grounds and the stonework of the beautiful house ahead of you looked as real as any stone house. Looking up, the sky was a mixture of colours, enriched with the misty smell of rain and hazy afternoon sun, soft clouds tinted with gentle tones of purples and greys passing overhead and the hint of stars in the far distance made the world Draco had brought you to feel even more wonderful and alive.

The feeling it brought you was something of nostalgia, of comfort and warmth and every good thing in between. It was something more than words on a page, or the description of how something was meant to be, it was not imaginary or dreamt up. It was real, handcrafted with words, but it was beyond what words could encapsulate. It was neither a dream nor a reality, it was something in between, something truly ethereal, unreal yet so astoundingly real, evidenced by the way it felt when you knelt down to run your fingers across the soft blades of grass, and when you reached over to trail your fingers through the soft trickle of the crystal clear stream that ran around the edge of the garden.

“It’s incredible.” You gasped softly, finally able to find your voice after being captivated by everything around you. “I hoped you’d feel that way too.” Draco nodded, smiling as he proudly looked around his little secret garden, nestled between pages, wrapped in a feeling of safety, of unending comfort, a deep sense of love overcoming you both as you slowly explored the work of Draco’s words. “I needed something more than words. Something deeper.” He explained as he approached a patch of wildflowers, the Slytherin leaning over to gently lift the head of a flower and admire it for a moment. It was as soft as silk in his fingers, as delicate and as real as the flowers you already knew.

You were in awe as you stood near the middle, eyes cast up into the dreamy sky, Draco approaching you, his hands resting in his trouser pockets. “Has anyone else seen this place?” You asked as you cast your gaze on him. “Only you, darling. You’re the only person I want to share this with.” Draco told you, pulling his hands free from his pockets as he stepped in front of you, gently taking both of your hands in his.

“You’re the only one I ever want to share things with,” He paused, his eyes softening as he looked at you, love surfacing in his deep grey eyes. “You’re the only one I want to share myself with.” The feeling that blossomed in your heart at his words was like no other, making you feel weightless, spreading warmth through you like sweet honey.

“Draco,” Your voice was gentle, his name sweet on your lips, the ashen haired boy melting at the sight of your features, bathed in the ethereal light above you, the way your eyes had softened at his words and your smile curved gently, but it was genuine, reaching your eyes, making you look as if you glowed with the emotions that swam just beneath the surface. He leaned in, gently tugging you towards him, your hands coming up to rest on his chest as you drew yourself closer to him. The closeness between you was welcomed, as if the unspoken feelings you both felt had finally found their truths. You did not need to say them out loud to know that they were real, to know that your feelings for Draco were deep in your heart and shared by the same boy you loved dearly.

With his hands resting at the curve of your back, Draco pulled you in, his lips pressing against yours in a soft, gentle kiss, encapsulating you in a wondrous feeling of love. He kissed you slowly, lips moving gently against yours as your fingers trailed over his chest until they met at the back of his neck. Draco gently rested his hand at the nape of your neck, cradling you as he kissed you into pure bliss, his touch ever present as his firm, yet gentle grip on your waist tightened slightly.

Draco kissed you until you were both breathless, a warm haze overcoming you both as your lips parted, eyes fluttering open to sink into his soft grey hues. “I love you.” Draco spoke softly, with such gentle conviction that there was not a single lingering shadow of doubt in his words.

“I love you too, Draco.” Your voice, while dreamy, was sincere and Draco felt his heart flutter.

He had created a world to describe a feeling that was beyond what he could explain. Draco had accumulated all of those details and small moments that lingered in his mind, not just from snapshots inside of books, but feelings he felt when he spent time with his best friend. When he spent summer nights stargazing with you and autumnal Sunday afternoons taking a walk with you in the soft drizzle while the sun poked through the thin clouds casting a gentle haze over you both. It was everything you shared together in one place, collected together in one, wondrous, dreamy moment in time, captured between the pages of his book, printed into words to describe something beyond what they could.

It was love.

Taglist (OPEN):

@kitkatd7​ @paintballkid711​ @thesewaywardskies​ @coldlilheart​ @victorialynn7​ @pandaxnienke​ @megantje123​ @loving-life-my-way​ @chaotic-fae-queen​ @theweasleyslut​ @daltonacademia​ @amourtentiaa​ @sincerelymalfoy​

#fuckingdracoswc #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine

[anyoneseenadam]

The Moon Spirit - three

Dorian x reader, Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

Description: When you’re taught to be a queen from such a young age, nothing could go wrong. But when the king starts to fear your growing power you find yourself thrust into a world of faeries, evil magic and powerful men, learning to stand on your own can be harder than it seems.

warnings: Fenrys being cute, badass reader but like a shit ton of angst, allusions to sexual assualt (Fenrys canon stuff), mentions of weapons? idk if that counts

word count: 4.4k

a/n: so this took a while but it’s finally done, please comment it genuienly keeps me going cause it’s super easy to get unmotivated, hope you enjoy <3

——————————————————————————

After he left you, Fenrys begrudgingly found himself back at the palace, bowed on one knee in front of Maeve. She looked cruelly beautiful as always but there was something more sinister sparkling in her eyes today, remaining quiet as he stood back to his full height, meeting her gaze with wavering confidence.

“Who have you been with?” she finally broke the silence and he cursed himself for thinking he could ever get away with that.

“I just walked a young girl home, she was new, and I was afraid someone may take advantage of her if she was alone,” he spoke truthfully, allowing Maeve to push into his mind as she searched for a hidden lie.

He watched as she drew in a sharp breath, something like fear flickering across her face before her tightly drawn lips spread into a wide smile.

“Come here,” she commanded, and he went to stand in front of her, close enough to smell her sickening perfume and to see the flawless texture of her skin. “Do you love this girl?”

He shook his head, no, and she ran a hand down his face in a motherlike way. “Good, you will be recruiting her.” His eyes widened and he had to put his energy into not flinching away.

“What?” he spoke with an incredulous tone and Maeve glared at his lack of respect making him bow his head. “Sorry your majesty, I’m just slightly confused. She was just a young girl and didn’t seem to have any former training.”

“And that’s why I’m in charge, you men are too foolish. That was a powerful girl, and I would rather she remained on my side than any other.” He frowned, powerful? She had seemed kind, lost and strong enough to hold her own – but not powerful.

“I need you to see her again, convince her to join.” Fenrys physically felt the command go through him and he stood taller again, nodding gruffly as she waved her hand in dismissal.

--

Your first few days of work had been harder than expected, and you had gone home with aching muscles from lifting books and sore cheeks from plastering on smiles. Albert had made your days easier, drinking hot tea with you as you slowly revealed more and more about your past to him, his kind, old eyes lulling you into a comforting state.

But you didn’t receive rest when you got home. Ploughing through books on spirits and practicing using the limited magic you had found until the early hours of the morning, getting barely two hours of sleep a night unplagued by nightmares. By your fifth day Albert had handed you a pot of cosmetic product to hide the circles forming, commenting on scaring the customers away as you stuck your tongue out at him but smearing some on regardless.

On the second Saturday after your arrival you had a day off and used it to venture into the market, your empty shelves no longer sustaining you, let alone Amaris. Your basket soon filled with colourful fruits and vegetables, and you were browsing the fish section when a shadow fell over you.

“Let me take that for you,” you turned to see Fenrys standing over you with that same easy smile, his head tilted slightly. You rolled your eyes, trying to block out the feelings expanding in your chest at just the sight of him.

“And here I thought I had lost you,” you muttered, and he laughed, taking your basket from you, and paying for the wrapped salmon you had just been passed. “You don’t need to do stuff like that,” you told him, and he took your arm as he led you out of the market.

“Can’t help myself, I see a pretty girl in need and boom, I have to help.” He joked and you laughed lightly.

“Oh yeah, the damsel in distress disease, I’ve heard that’s a nasty one to cure,” he smiled down at you with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Not really, all I need is a kiss,” he tugged you closer and you squealed, shoving him away as he laughed.

“As I said, nasty.” He dramatically put a hand to his heart, throwing his head back in distress.

“You wound me darling,” he complained, and you laughed, hating how much you genuinely enjoyed his company. You reached your apartment in no time, and he stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to your door.

“So no invitation of tea, a glass of wine, a home cooked meal?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes,

“I’m afraid I reserve that for people I like,” he raised his eyebrows, hopping up the steps two at a time.

“Even if I have genuine cause to talk to you?” he asked and the sincerity in his eyes made a shot of fear run through you. He couldn’t know, could he?

“What is it?” you asked, and he smiled softly, a little pain shining through his loving eyes.

“The queen has a proposition to make.” His voice quietened and you straightened your posture, your entire demeanour switching in a second.

“Come in.” you opened the door and stepped in, allowing him to duck as he followed.

The first thing he noticed was how barren your apartment was, a simple kitchen, connected to a room with a pale blue sofa and worn coffee table. Your shelves were bare, and he sneaked a look into your room as he passed the open door, your mattress on the floor covered by only a thin blanket and a few cushions, one incredibly expensive looking gold dress on the floor, stained dark red. But before he could venture further in he heard you cooing in an impossibly soft voice.

He turned the corner and blanched at the sight he saw, “What the?”

You turned from were you were feeding small bits of salmon to a pure white bundle of fluff that hissed as soon as it saw him. “Amaris, be polite!” you scalded, and he surveyed the cat with a wary look, untrusting of the small creature.

“You have a cat.” He stated, suddenly completely unsure of his taste in women.

“No he’s actually a spider,” you deadpanned and Fenrys pouted.

“But I thought you’d be a dog person,” he complained, and you laughed, moving to throw open the curtains in the room before you started putting away the food you had bought, boiling a pot of water over your stove.

“I just like animals, why does it matter?” you asked, and he threw his arms up before transforming into his wolf form. You gasped and Amaris meowed loudly, scampering to hide behind your legs.

“You’re a wolf.” You stated and he turned back with a smile.

“No I’m a spider,” you flipped him off as you turned to put the rest of your food away.

“I prefer you as a wolf, they’re one of my favourite animals,” you told him and he smiled, sticking his tongue out childishly at Amaris who just sauntered of to doze on a pillow.

“So, what does the queen want?” you asked, pouring the hot water into a pot you had prepared, and he sat down on your worn-down sofa, cringing as it creaked under his weight. You followed suit soon after putting the pot and two mugs down, curling your feet underneath yourself as you looked at him.

“Well, she has told me that you’re actually extremely powerful and because of this she wants to recruit you. She wants you to join the Cadre.” He spoke surely and confidently but his eyes shone with wariness.

“Okay first of all, I’m not at all powerful, secondly how would she even know if I was, which I’m not! And third, what is The Cadre?” he laughed slightly and moved forward to pour himself a cup of tea.

“Well you clearly are because she recognised you and always knows these things, trust me. She’s never wrong about this. And The Cadre is a group I’m in, elite soldiers sworn to protect Maeve.” He explained and you shook your head.

“Fenrys I barely know basic self-defence, I’m not a soldier. And I don’t want to be sworn to royalty.” Your hands were shaking slightly at the thought of being sworn to another tyrant, “Plus in all honesty I only found out I was Fae on Monday, so I’m not exactly well versed in this shit.”

“How did you not know before?” he asked – frowning.

“The country I… come from, there was no magic. The king wiped all magic out years ago.”

“Why?” It was an understandable question but still made you panic, he couldn’t know.

“I don’t know, all I know is he did, so those alike me – with magic but born into a magicless world – never got to know.” You were good at concealing emotions, that much Fenrys could see. You seemed to have iron walls built into the clouds around your heart, protecting it as fiercely as you would Amaris.

“Well, Maeve wants to meet with you soon, so let me know when you decide gorgeous,” he stood, and you smiled at him gratefully for not prying further.

“I’m really sorry Fenrys I just don’t think it’s a good idea. As I said I’m not a soldier.” He nodded but his eyes still conveyed a sense of worry.

“Well keep in mind you would get to train with me, probably shirtless.” He joked as you opened the door for him, grinning when you laughed loudly, shoving him through the door.

“Bye Fenrys,” you said, eyes sparkling as he waved, whistling his way down the street comically.

You closed the door as your smile fell, a weight settling on your chest as you already knew why he looked so wary – Kings and Queens didn’t understand the word no.

--

You practically ran to the library the next day, opting to bring Amaris with you as he peeked out of the small handbag you had found stuffed into the back of your closet. When you flew into the library you instantly sought out Albert, who took one look at your flushed, shining appearance and abandoned the pile of books he was putting away, motioning for you to sit down.

You sat quickly, huffing out a breath as Amaris crawled out of his makeshift home and started exploring the new territory of the small backroom reserved for staff only.

“What bothers you child?” Albert’s voice was steady as always and his dry, warm hands grasped yours gently as your eyes filled with unshed tears.

“I just – I needed to talk to someone,” you stuttered out, your breath coming in harsher pants as he shushed you.

“Take a minute and allow yourself to breathe first dear,” he commanded, and you pressed a hand to your heart as you tried to slow its pounding. “Start from the beginning, tell me what’s wrong.”

“The man I loved, his- his name was Dorian, Dorian Havilliard.” You said quietly and Albert let out a small chuckle.

“I presumed as much, I visited Adarlan once, and an old man never forgets the face of a princess.” You looked at him through blurry eyes, confused.

“You knew?” he smiled sadly at you.

“I was 90% certain, but I would never have pressured you to reveal secrets like that.” He passed you a tissue, “But I sense that’s not all that weighs heavy on you?”

You shook your head, “Queen Maeve has made clear that she wishes me to join the Cadre.”

Albert’s face changed with the clear shock, and you bowed your head, shamefully.

“And what did you say?” he asked slowly.

“No, of course! I don’t have any desire to be another monarch’s puppet.” You stated and he shushed you again.

“You need to remember that people always listen.” He scolded, repeating one of the first things he had told you when you started working. “I agree that you should be cautious, but perhaps gaining the queens protection would be beneficial. Plus you would become an extremely skilled swordsman.”

“I am not a man, nor do I wish to be.” You said through gritted teeth, “And I vowed that I would become skilled on my own and go back to Dorian.”

“Yes but if you join, you will be more skilled than ever before,” Albert reasoned and you shook your head, tears welling up again.

“I thought you’d be on my side for this, you are the one who told me to be careful around powerful people.” You felt unjustly betrayed as he spoke and his shoulders slumped slightly, sighing before grasping your hands lightly again.

“I am dear, and I urge you to do what you think is best. But I am simply reminding you that if you truly want to beat this king you are being offered power on a silver platter right now, and perhaps it would be foolish to deny yourself it.” You let his words run around your head as you worked overtime trying to figure out a plan.

“Say I joined – what do I need to do to ensure I don’t become another puppet?” you asked, and he smiled at you.

“First of all, she will offer a blood oath and you must refuse it with everything you have in you – she came to you remember you hold the power. On that note you must summon all those queenly powers of yours and ensure when you speak to her, she is meeting you and she is trying to win you over. Never the other way around.” You nodded, pocketing the information in your head. “When in the palace you are always being watched, always being listened to, so keep your wits about you. But I’m sure you’re used to that by now.”

You laughed under your breath, “It’ll be just like going home,” you commented, and he smiled.

“Sadly yes, now take this money. Go but a new dress and tomorrow you will take a carriage, you can’t walk there.” You thanked him softly, placing the gold in the purse you held, “You’re a kind girl, that is what makes you strong and that’s what will make you a good queen. Don’t let them take your heart.”

Your throat tightened and you nodded due to the lack of trust you held for your voice, standing, and collecting your bag in one hand and Amaris in the other. Albert stood to take you to the door with a smile, and a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“You can have tomorrow off work as well, however I feel our work together is already coming to an end.” You smiled softly, allowing him to pet Amaris’ head softly before he kissed your cheek gently, ushering you out the door.

“Have a good night Albert,” you said, turning to see him watching you with sorrowful eyes.

“Remember what I told you dear, don’t let them take your heart.” Your smile was sad as you spoke,

“I won’t.” You both heard the lie but, neither of you decided to correct it. Not tonight.

--

Of all the things Fenrys expected to see the next morning, you were the one he hoped for. But as he looked around at the powerful men surrounding the room he felt white-hot panic seize him as he realised what you were about to do. You hadn’t even looked at him when you walked in, keeping your eyes trained solely on Maeve, not even dropping them as you dropped in a low curtsy.

He was even more shocked by the blood red dress you adorned, the v-neck deep and skirts long with a slit up either leg, high enough to reveal the halter you wore with a silver dagger and a ruby encrusted hilt secured into place. Every man, woman and mouse watched as you walked through the room – head high and shoulders back, revealing enough to entrance everyone in the room but covering enough to keep them wanting more and he felt his anger grow as he watched you.

You waited with a soft, but condescending, smile on your face, allowing Maeve to regrasp some power by speaking first – every movement so calculated and precise. As he watched you he saw the power and understood the fear and lust building in the room.

“So I guess you heard my offer.” Maeve finally said, drawling low with relaxed posture.

“I did.” Your statement was short, to the point but you saw it grate Maeve’s nerves and smiled as sweet as spun sugar, “Your majesty.”

“And?” he watched as Maeve grew more agitated and was surprised she hadn’t killed you yet, usually not standing for even an ounce of insubordination.

“I am willing to accept on one condition – I’m not taking a blood oath.” He had to fight jumping in the air with glee as you spoke, so afraid you were going to get tangled in the mess he was in. Maeve’s face grew dark, but you held your ground, never letting your eyes stray lest she see your weakness.

“Well that’s simply not viable,” she stated, glaring you into the ground but you just smiled again, nodding with a polite laugh.

“I see, well this was a lovely meeting, gentlemen.” You raised your hand politely as you moved to leave, your eyes finally flittering over him and the rest of the cadre. You bowed once again to Maeve, making to leave when Maeve raised her hand.

“We are not finished.” She stated.

“Well I’m terribly sorry your majesty but I’ve made my terms extremely clear, and since you refuse to budge - I believe we are done.” Your voice was still sweet, but he watched your face change slightly, every bit a queen looking down upon her people. He couldn’t help but wonder were you learned to speak this way, but Maeve simply laughed.

“Yet here you are,” she spoke with a mocking tone, and you smiled with your teeth this time.

“Need I remind you that you sought me out, if I have terms it should be in your best interest to meet them if you wish me to join your miniature army.” Fenrys heard Lorcan snarl lowly next to him but gripped his arm in warning.

“Oh your training is impressive princess, but I’m afraid it will be of no use.” Your face didn’t budge as Maeve spoke, but Fenrys watched as something flickered through your eyes, “You see, I learn of misdemeanours in other courts very easily and I wish to show you what I learned of Adarlan.”

“There’s nothing you could show me that I won’t have seen before,” you said, and he watched the two of you laugh like you were mingling at a party instead of standing of in a court.

“Oh I’m afraid this is relatively new, you might reconsider your terms after this,” you stood straight as Maeve walked down the steps and moved to whisper something the rest of them couldn’t hear in your ear, her hand pressed lightly to the base of your neck.

She pulled away after a few minutes and he took in your now shaking hands, eyes filled with tears you clearly refused to let fall. You took in a steadying breath before speaking, “You’re lying.”

“Oh I wish I was princess, but I can only show the truth and it appears your prince had moved on rather quickly, what use is there going back to a country where you can no longer rule.” She stroked your hair condescendingly and you chewed the inside of your lip as it quivered. “But here, here – under my control – you have power of your own. Men will no longer hold onto you like a prized pony, you will become something they fear, you will be my perfect princess, the daughter I never got to have.”

Fenrys inhaled sharply, he knew Maeve never planned to relent the throne, especially not to a woman from another country. She looked at you like you were a doll, something for her to reshape and change. You must have seen it to, but through your blurry eyes everything had changed.

“Okay,” your voice was smaller than before, and he wanted to tear Maeve limb from limb for having broken you down so harshly with just a few words. She smiled cruelly at you as she cut a small line along her forearm and you bowed your head in pain, before falling to your knees – graceful even as pain consumed your entire being. You brought your lips to her wound and drank as she repeated the words that he remembered all too well.

When you rose your lips were sparkling red, and your eyes were glistening with tears still unshed – but you raised your head like a queen and Maeve smiled.

“I believe you have already met Fenrys, he will be training you as the training you have received is not proficient, I’ll have all your belongings brought to a room here.” Maeve waved her hand to some guards, but you stopped her.

“I only need Amaris brought here; the rest can burn.” You muttered.

“And for your new wardrobe?” She asked and you smiled looking down, wiping your mouth slowly.

“Make it red.” You finally met Fenrys eyes, and he stepped forward, desperate to drag you far, far away.

“Shall I escort her to her new room?” he asked Maeve and she flitted her eyes to him, then to the hand he had pressed to your back.

“Yes and then afterword’s come find me,” she smiled cruelly at him, and he felt you stiffen under his hand, but he just nodded and began to lead you out of the room.

He led you through the corridors and up the stairs in silence, angry at you for accepting and at himself for not putting up more of a fight. When he reached the room he presumed would be yours he opened the door for you, following you in as you sat on the bed, your usual lightness replaced by the weight on your shoulders.

He watched you bow your head and came to sit beside you, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise; this was my choice.” You said and he reached an arm around your shoulders, but you quickly shrugged him off.

“I shouldn’t, we shouldn’t, if you and the queen are…” you trailed off and Fenrys bowed his head in shame.

“It’s not like that, she, she makes me,” he muttered, and you inhaled sharply, turning to him with those watery eyes.

“I had no idea, I’m sorry,” you whispered, instantly looping your arms around him neck and holding him tight. “She’s a monster.”

Fenrys huffed a laugh, pulling away, “You’re telling me.”

He reached a hand for your face slowly, wiping under your eyes where a tear had escaped, “how did she change your mind?” he asked, dark eyes searching your face for clues as your bottom lip quivered in pain.

“She showed me home,” was all you said, and his shoulders dropped. He would leave it for now, you were young and clearly not ready to speak – and now, they had all the time in the world to speak.

“Sleep tight, training starts at seven tomorrow,” he stood and kissed your head lightly and you nodded, words getting caught in your throat. He left quietly, walking away as quickly as he could to avoid hearing the soft sobs that erupted as soon as he closed the door.

--

You could barely contain your tears until you got to your room, repeating rule thirteen over and over in your head, crying in public is only appropriate at funerals and weddings. But as soon as Fenrys left your room you sobbed into your hands, wailing, and crying like a child throwing a tantrum as you let out the emotions, the screams that have been locked inside of you for so long.

You had done everything for Dorian, changed every part of yourself and become the perfect princess, girlfriend, fiancé – and he, mere weeks after you had to run, was already moving onto a new girl.

As hard as you tried you couldn’t get rid of the image of him and the blonde girl out of your head. How he kissed her softly, his hand on her lower back where it always used to rest on yours. The smile when he pulled away, the way he laughed with her, the way Chaol smiled at his brother when he was happy. You had been forgotten, replaced, almost instantly, the warmth you used to feel when you thought of home, of your princes’ arms replaced by a tight chest and a cold feeling encompassing your heart.

“I’m sorry Albert,” you whispered into the air as you stood looking out on your balcony, gripping tightly to the rail as you feared your legs would give out, “She already took it.”

You were interrupted by a quiet knock on your door, wiping your eyes as you opened it – taking Amaris from the tall guards’ hands as a flurry of women pushed in, filling your drawers with clothes and cosmetics, candles and hair pins, books and plants, a million supplies for Amaris and then some. You smiled politely at them as they left without saying a word, in and out extremely quickly as you stared at a knot in the floor.

Another knock sounded soon after and you turned your head to see one of the Cadre staring in with piercing green eyes. You motioned for him to come in and stood, tilting your head up to meet his gaze as he took in your messy, tear-stained expression.

“You’re the first female member of the Cadre, ever.” He stated and you blinked slowly.

“Lucky me,” your tone was sarcastic, voice rough from the crying but the man smiled.

“I’m Rowan, it’s good to meet you.” He reached out a hand and you met it, allowing him to kiss the back gently.

“(Y/n)” you returned, with a slight curtsey.

“I look forward to fighting with you (y/n),” he stated, releasing your hand and turning to leave, stopping right before he reached the door, “Oh, and don’t lose that dagger, you’ll find a shocking number of men dislike powerful women.”

“First I’m hearing of this,” you deadpanned, and he chuckled.

“Goodluck kid.”

#fenrys moonbeam x reader #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x reader #dorian havilliard x reader #dorian x reader #dorian havilliard #throne of glass #tog #rowan whitethorn

[thirsting-over-demons]

The Lingerie Game

{An Obey Me Fic} – F!MC

Synopsis: A game is happening at the House of Lamentation— anyone who sees MC not fully clothed will get the opportunity to spend 12 hours time alone with her wearing lingerie of their choice.

<<CH2

Chapter Three: A Game of Strip Poker

warnings: mildly n.s.f.t, sexual themes, poker

Mammon cashes in on his 12-hour reward. He's decided to teach MC the ins and outs of poker, but with a twist. However, the game can't last forever.

Word Count: 5610

Sitting in wait for MC is a package carefully positioned in front of her bedroom door. A gold ribbon wraps around the box, contrasting with the plain brown paper that covers it. Attached is a note that reads:

My room! Saturday night!

…

Wear this underneath your normal clothes.

 “Wow. His handwriting is worse than mine,” MC comments as she reads the note. She also remarks on the lack of signature. It’s a good thing that it’s obvious who sent this. No one else but Mammon could be so confident yet convey such bashfulness through writing.

As soon as she finishes reading, she takes the package into her room, eager to see the lingerie Mammon has picked out. Upon opening, she initially notices the color scheme—black and gold. As if she could expect anything else. She goes on to pull out the first piece, holding it in front of her to get a better look. In her hands is a short, black chemise with a sheer body. An outline of lace separates the see-through fabric from an opaque bikini. What’s more, golden dagger-shaped shards hang off the brassiere while metallic specks can be seen throughout the flowing fabric.

He expects me to be able to wear this underneath my regular clothes? The frown on her face as she thought this is replaced by an affectionate smile as she continues to stare at the chemise. She then sets it aside and lets out a sentimental breath as she does so. Reaching into the box again she pulls out a pair of black boyshorts studded with silver white diamonds on the sides. Attached to the shorts are garter straps with gold-colored clasps at the end. Stockings, however, did not come with the set.

“I wonder if that was on purpose,” she mutters to herself. “Oh well, guess we’ll find out Saturday night.” She stares at the lingerie laid out on her bed, and for a moment, thinks about all the potential activities Mammon has planned.

Whatever it is, I’m looking forward to it.

 Saturday has finally arrived and after a long day of making up missed school, Mammon and MC could use some winding down.

“Why did we have to spend a whole day at school for just a couple of lousy hours?!” Mammon complains as the two walk home.

“Because he’s a sadist,” MC replies. There’s no denying that ‘he' refers to Lucifer. She’s truly contemplating whether it was, indeed, worth it after having lost eight hours of her day off to forced independent study. “At least there’s tonight.”

Mammon chuckles shyly and agrees. His confidence picks up speed as he states, “Ya know it’s gonna be fun cause The Great Mammon planned it!” A grin plasters his face while he says this.

In response, she comments on how it sounds like she’ll have to take some time to relax beforehand.

He agrees rather begrudgingly, his disappointment shining through despite having just spent the first half of the day together already.

The two eventually reach home and part ways, having agreed to meet in Mammon’s room after dinner. MC has no idea what the evening plans could be, but knowing him, she’s going to need energy. With this is mind, she decides to nap in the time before dinner, and makes her way up to her room. Once there, she manages to only take her shirt off before flopping onto bed and falling asleep. The cool fabric is refreshing compared to the hot air outside, perfect for afternoon dozing.

A knock on the door disrupts her slumber. With it, a lazy acknowledgement escapes from MC, prompting the knocker to enter the room.

“Dinner's ready, MC,” Satan calls out. In response, all he hears is mumbles coming from the body half-under the covers. Satan sighs as he steps further into the room. “It’s not good to sleep so early in the day.” He immediately goes from lecturing to tempting as he adds, “Besides, I made your favorite.”

This sparks some energy in MC. Satan’s cooking is always delicious and better yet he says it’s one of her favorites. She quickly pushes herself up and the blanket that was covering her falls to the side. Still in bed, she turns to face him and with resolve, tells him she will be right there.

He decisively ignores what she said to instead ask, “Are you not wearing a shirt?”

MC looks down to confirm that she is, in fact, shirtless. Upon realizing what this means, she looks up, stares ahead at the wall in front of her, and says flatly, “No. I am not.” She can’t believe how quick that was.

“A win-win for us both, it seems,” Satan is obviously pleased with what just happened. “I’ll let you get dressed.” He then takes his leave, closing the door behind him.

MC remains sitting in bed, her eyes lingering blankly at the space Satan just left through. That was almost embarrassingly too fast. It’s only been less than a week since the game first started and already two prizes are being rewarded. Let’s just focus on tonight, she thinks as she pushes the encounter out of her mind. But, first, food.

Dinner passes without much incident. To their displeasure, the brothers know Mammon will be getting uninterrupted time with MC tonight. But the punishment from last time is still fresh in their minds, so they tended to steer away from that topic. Only the rogue complaint here and there made it out their mouths. Not that any questions would be answered anyway; MC is unaware of the activities for the night and there’s no way Mammon would tell his brothers what he has prepared.

Upon finishing her meal, MC heads upstairs to get ready for the night. First, a shower is in order. Can’t feel her best without one. She makes sure to use the scents she thinks Mammon would like best. He always seems to try to stand close to me when I use the strawberry-scented stuff.

After washing, she tosses on some throw-away clothes for the walk back to her room. She’s too wet to immediately put on the lingerie and she’s certainly not walking back in a towel. There can’t be two winners in a day.

She's eventually able to wear the lingerie and walks over to the mirror hanging on her door. Moment of truth. She looks over her reflection, quite pleased with how she looks. “Who knew Mammon could pick out something that looks so good?” Her thoughts instantly leave her mouth. “Well, I guess modeling helps.”

Still, there’s the matter of trying to wear it under her everyday clothes. It definitely wasn’t designed to do that. A larger, loose-fitting shirt will work, but the bottoms might be a bit trickier. Jeans definitely won’t work, in fact any type of pants won’t. She’ll have to go with a skirt. The two tops can easily be tucked in with that too, making it slightly more manageable.

The completed ensemble is a bit uncomfortable, but it’ll do. He can’t be planning on never seeing the lingerie. Eventually she can take off the other clothes…right? Well, either way, it’s time to head to Mammon’s room.

She announces her arrival with three sharp knocks. In return, she hears a startled Mammon telling her to come in. When she enters the room, she sees him sitting on the couch, his back to the door. She also notes the trashcan filled to the top with crumpled up paper. Seems like it took him a couple times to find the right words for the note earlier.

“You ready?” she asks.

“I’ve been ready,” he replies a little impatiently while turning to face her. His tone quickly changes, though, as he attempts to hide this anxious eagerness. “Not that I’ve just been sitting here waiting!” He swiftly decides to change the subject to avoid any further hole digging. Instead, he comments on what MC is wearing. On how little it is, in fact.

“What? You told me to wear my everyday clothes,” she says, genuinely confused by his line of reasoning. “The skirt isn’t even short. It’s mid-length.” MC lifts the ends while she states this, as if to prove the point.

This causes Mammon to look away. It takes him a slight moment to regain himself before he says, “I guess it can’t be helped.” He gets up from the couch and walks over to MC. Draping his jacket across her shoulders, he tells her, “Wear this.”

She’s completely baffled at this point. More clothes? A couple seconds are spent in wonder until she slips her arms through. She doesn’t completely mind. As the jacket settles, a scent drifts over her.

It smells like him.

MC hesitates to ask for an explanation, but the curiosity is pressing. “So, what’s the deal with the clothes, anyway?”

“Huh?” Mammon acts as though she knows what they’re going to do. “Well, with what you had on, you’d only have to lose twice.” This does nothing to clear up mystery, and its only when he sees MC's puzzled expression does he realize that. He finally reveals what the two will be doing, “I’m gonna teach ya poker!”

Of course. He has wanted to play countless times before, but MC didn’t know how nor was any interested in learning. But now she has too. On top of that, it seems like it’s going to be strip poker. How apropos.

“I see.” Good thing she took that nap. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have the mental energy to be taught anything else that day. “Alright, let’s get to it.”

Mammon gives a hum of agreement and the two make their way over to the couches where he’s set up the cards. On the table are examples of possible hands in order of ranking. As he goes over them, he makes sure to give MC enough time to properly memorize the categories. When she’s had her fill, he continues to explain the rules and mechanics of the variant his chosen in-depth.

Plainly, players will be dealt two cards, then five will be laid onto the table as community cards. Use the two cards in combination with the ones of the board to make a better hand than the other.

“I’ve decided to go easy on ya!” A huge smile can be seen on Mammon’s face. “This one’s the easiest to learn, so you should have no problem playing.” It’s obvious he’s having so much fun teaching her something he loves.

MC smiles in response. Seeing him so enthusiastic makes him so endearing. He’s quite serious about it too. No way he’s not by how thoroughly he’s explaining the game.

Soon enough the two begin playing, starting with some practice rounds. When MC decides she has the hang of it, she suggests they raise the stakes by finally betting clothes.

“Ya haven’t won yet!” Mammon rejects the idea straightaway. “Ya hafta win first,” he clarifies.

She has to wonder if he’s doing such a slow reveal on purpose. No, of course he is. First the long lesson now all the practicing. Though, she has to admit, it is more fun this way—there’s a buildup, anticipation. And there’s no point in rushing, they do have half a day. So, she's content to carry on without anteing for now.

While there’s a bit of enjoyment in trying to win against Mammon in something he excels in, MC is starting to lose interest. The lack of risk is starting to compromise the point of playing, even if she always either loses or folds. All she has to do is win once, then the real game can begin. Time to really focus.

Up to this point, she’s just been paying attention to her own cards and trying to beat Mammon’s hand. She’s been foregoing any observation of her opponent proper. Right, I’ve got to play the player as much as the game. She starts with some simple watching, noting anything that might help her: expressions, movements, comments, etc. Further scrutinizing is done by deliberately making a couple of bad moves to gauge his reactions. She’s getting nothing from him.

A couple more rounds go by, and MC has concluded that Mammon is unreadable, almost. The only time he reacted, just slightly, was when she nearly won. He seemed almost proud. That’s got to be her angle. She’s not skilled enough to read him, but she can coax him into giving away information. Just have to ask the right questions.

It takes some tries before finding the most effective line of questioning. Problem is, before, she wasn’t asking too many questions. Now, it’s like a flood gate has been lifted.

“Finally getting serious, huh?” If Mammon knew what she was up to, he wasn’t showing it. Additionally, the influx of questions hasn’t thrown him off. Rather, he’s quite excited to show off his talent in front of MC. Maybe a bit too excited. He’s letting down his guard.

Which is perfect for her. She needs this win. In fact, she might have him. The last thing she asked caused a slight stir in Mammon. “So, a pair in hand and a pair on the table is a two pair?”

“Yep! Got it!” Mammon's response showed no sign of hesitation or worry. But there was the tiniest hint of disappointment hidden within his words.

This is what tipped MC off. He thinks he has a better hand. Good thing her cards are better than what she said. And with what’s on the table, there's a good chance his cards will lose to her actual ones.

“Alright let’s show ‘em,” she says as she lays her cards into view.

Mammon almost immediately declared himself winner until she pointed at the three aces on the table, those being the two in her hand and then the community one. In addition to the pair included on the board, that makes her a hand a winner compared to Mammon’s, who only had five cards of the same suite.

“Guess we can start anteing then,” MC proclaims. She’s ready to stop being so damn uncomfortable because of the weird layers she’s wearing. She may not even try the next rounds, not that she’ll let Mammon know that. He would try to make excuses to prevent her from stripping for sure. “Actually, maybe you should explain how you’re thinking of doing that first,” she follows up after realizing he never clarified those particulars.

Mammon goes on to lay out the rules he’s devised. Simply, if both players show their hand, the loser has to remove an item of clothing. There’s no penalty to folding considering the circumstance.

Sure enough, the next round plays and she ends up losing an item of clothing. Can’t say she ended up not trying, though. She just didn’t try as hard. It was fun learning how to play against Mammon, but it’s too much now. There’s no way she can keep up steam.

She opts for the skirt first. It’s been the major cause of her discomfort, surprisingly to her. The band has been causing the two shirts to rub against her skin nonstop. She sticks her thumbs in to separate it from herself and lifts herself off the couch just enough to pull the skirt off, setting it to her side. With that she returns her gaze to Mammon.

This prompts a small fuss from him. Snapping out of a lascivious stare, he spits out, “Why'da go for that first? I gave ya the jacket!”

That’s the other reason. She doesn’t want to take his jacket off. She tells him as such, burying her head in it as she does. It’s soothing in a way.

A small amount of color rises across Mammon’s face from this. He gets up wordlessly and walks over to MC. Taking off his own sunglasses, he puts them on her, slightly brushing her cheeks as his hands slide past.

“There,” he says as he looks at her before walking back around the table. He seems satisfied with that explanation, or rather, lack thereof.

“These will literally be the next thing I take off.”

“They’re suppose'da be.” Mammon goes on to deal the next round. It was tight, coming down to who had the higher cards. Ultimately, he won by a hair.

And the glasses come right off.

The following hand plays much slower. MC takes her time to analyze everything, thinking of endless possible card combinations that’ll earn her a win as the community cards are laid down. She’s decided she can’t be the only one stripping.

It’s down to the last card on the table and she has to choose whether to show or fold. It’s a decent enough hand. She’ll show.

Mammon's the first to flip his cards, revealing a respectable hand, as well.

“Are you sure you haven’t been cheating?” She suddenly asks.

“Huh?” Mammon was taken by surprise with this. A little offended, he answers, “I may bend the rules sometimes. But this isn’t the time and place, MC. Even I know that.”

“You’re right,” she turns her cards over. “Because you would’ve won, then.” She reveals a hand that triumphs over her opponent’s.

“MC!” He exclaims both pleased and a little unsettled. “Ya had me going there. Hah! Look at ya.”

But she is just looking at him, waiting with a smile half-cocked. They showed their cards. She won. He lost.

He eventually understood why she was staring at him with such a look. And he froze. Right, by his rules, he loses an article of clothing now. For some reason, this didn’t even occur to him as a possibility—that they’d both be half-naked.

He's already lost his jacket and glasses. All that’s left are his shirt and pants. He picks the prior. Reaching over behind his head, Mammon takes his shirt and, as quickly as he can, yanks it over his head.

“You can quit lookin' at me like that, now.”

She doesn’t. Not even realizing she’s staring; she continues to admire his physique. Only when Mammon goes out of his way to get her attention does she snap out of her daze.

“Next round!” He says as if he’s uttering a decree.

The cards are dealt once again. MC, however, is getting tired. He sure can play for a long while. Having won the last round, she decides to phone it in for the rest, trying only as hard as it takes Mammon not to notice. It helps that she’s not good to begin with.

The next clothing item she tosses is the shirt beneath Mammon’s jacket, still refusing to take it off. She somehow manages it by balancing the jacket on her shoulders as she slips out of the top worn under it. Sure, she could have just taken off the jacket then put it back on when she was done, but it’s more fun this way. Plus, Mammon can't say anything her breaking the rules, so to speak.

Now, all she’s wearing is Mammon’s jacket and the lingerie he picked out. And she wants to show off this fact. She abruptly stands up, which causes the hanging daggers of the brassier to sway as she does so. Holding her arms out while posing, she asks, “Isn’t it cute?”

Mammon takes a moment before answering, soaking in what he’s seeing.

“You’re beautiful.”

MC felt a tinge of heat reach her cheeks. She wasn’t expecting him to respond like that. But she was glad.

She sits back down and comments on how she loves what he picked out. Then, silently thinks to herself how she hopes to wear it again for him.

Mammon, meanwhile, was marveling at how MC looked. Even going so far as to praise himself for his choice of lingerie.

“By the way,” MC begins. “This does beg the question, what about the stockings?” She leans back and to the side, supporting herself with her hands as she swings her legs alternatively up and down.

“Oh, uh,” he searches for the words, a little distracted by her bare legs. Finally finding them, he says, “It seemed like too much.”

“That’s too bad. It would’ve made the outfit even cuter,” she replies minorly disappointed. Then adds with a chuckle, “Plus it would’ve gave me more things to take off. Oh well, there’s always next time.”

“I can see that now! No need to rub—” He processes the last thing MC said. “Wait, for real?!”

MC confirms what she said, ready to laugh again. Well, that confirms he's all up for seeing her like this again.

“Imma hold you to that!” Mammon ecstatically swears. It’ll be even more fun the next time around, especially since the anxieties of this time won’t overwhelm him.

The night continues and MC can’t hide her exhaustion, yawning more and more frequently. She’s been folding more frequently too. Every round, in fact. The only thing she has left to offer is the jacket she’s been cuddling all night, and she’s not going to let it go.

“One more game,” Mammon says. “Then ya can go to bed.” He stipulates, “But no folding! Both of us gotta show our cards.”

“I’m not going to bed until you are,” she replies. “You have to get your full time.” A yawn tries to escape from her mouth as she says this.

Mammon accepts this but insists on having that last round. While she looks adorable, he does want to see how she looks without the covering piece. Plus, there has to be a proper sendoff of the game—folding just won’t do.

“In that case, we can watch a movie or something,” he suggests as he lays down the cards. He puts down all five table cards without delay. There’s no need to go through the whole process. When he lays the last card, he also flips his own, then looks at MC to do the same.

Although coming down to pure luck at this point, she ends up having to finally forego the jacket she’s come to love. She pouts as she removes it, then quickly makes her way over to the couch Mammon is sitting on the far end of. Settling down at a spot where they're almost touching, she goes on to suggest they watch a horror movie.

He’s reluctant to agree to this but relents as he’s too focused on the sudden close proximity between the two.

“I’ve been wanting to watch this certain one,” MC says as she pulls the film onto the TV. She stays on the summary screen to give Mammon the chance to read it and waits for him to give the go-ahead. Mammon, however, seemed to be focusing all his attention on MC, and she has to direct him to look at the screen. After a moment, a sign of confirmation is given, though hesitantly as if he didn't even process what he just read. She starts the movie anyway.

A little ways in, MC begins to shift and leans heavily onto Mammon, holding nothing back as she puts her full weight on him.

“If ya scared, all you gotta do is say so,” he says in reaction. “The Great Mammon will protect ya!” He looks down at who appears to be his new blanket.

She responds with a tired hum. Though she’s not having Mammon’s feigned bravery, she’s too exhausted to fight it. Instead, she continues to just watch the movie through half-closed eyes, propped against his shoulder.

“Hold on a sec.” He lifts her off for a split moment and repositions, his back now being supported by the arm of the couch. He pulls her into his lap, and she ends up laying between his legs with her head on his chest. “It’s more cozy this way, yeah?”

“Makes the jacket the next-best thing,” she answers.

The two continue to watch the movie in silence. During so, Mammon’s arms have been slowly moving from the couch to around MC, getting closer and tighter every time he got scared. He soon was fully encircling her with his head hiding behind as far as he could manage, which wasn’t much considering his position, even with sliding down. This was when he noticed the smell of strawberries.

“Hey, MC,” he spoke low trying to get her attention. There was no response. “Are ya sleepin'?” Again, he was met with silence. He took this opportunity to lightly bury his head into her, absorbing the scent that he adores on her. It had a calming effect, especially after the stress caused by the horror on screen.

“Did’ya wear this for me?” He asks softly to himself. Though the movie was over, he stayed still. He wanted nothing but to continue holding her like he was. There’s a chance he might just fall asleep too.

But he couldn’t. It’s too uncomfortable for that. The position is fine for cuddling yet sleeping like this will only bring pain the next day. And it can’t be much better for her. Not to mention, they don’t even have any blankets, and the pillows that were already on the couch are hardly meant for such use. He ultimately decides to sacrifice the snuggling, over much internal debating, and wakes MC up.

“Time to get up,” Mammon’s voice was loud as he shook her tenderly. He knew all too well if the first attempt didn’t work, he’d have way too much trouble with trying again. “It’s better to sleep inna bed. C'mon.”

MC grumbles at this as she sits up. Without a word, she makes her way over to the bed in his room.

“What're ya doing?” He asks a bit flustered, fully not expecting her actions.

“You said to go to bed,” she replies rather pragmatically. Then adds, “And there’s still time left in your twelve hours.” As she says this, she lifts the covers and climbs into bed. “Unless… you want me to walk all the way back to my own room?” It’s clear she has no plans to do this anyway, as she’s already quite settled in his bed.

Mammon makes no arguments, only an off-hand comment that can be taken as him denying all responsibility in having the idea. Instead, he gets into bed next to her, facing her way.

As soon as she feels his weight, she rolls over to meet him. She asks, “Can I hold you?”

He answers by holding her first. Showing no restraint, he presses his body into hers, his arms fully wrapped around her. He lets out a heavy sigh as he does so.

MC stiffens in surprise by this, but very quickly relaxes into him. Lifting her head off the shoulder she was resting on, she gives him a peck on the cheek as she tells him, “Good Night.”

Stunned by this, Mammon stares at MC, who has taken her position back onto his shoulder. Shifting his gaze to the side, a short moment passes before he says, “If ya gonna kiss me, ya gotta do it right.”

To this, she looks up again and brings her face to his, stopping just before his lips. And she waits, hesitating in front of him as she pauses for consent, her own lips somewhat parted ways in anticipation. She looks from his eyes to his lips then back again, as her way of asking.

Mammon gives his permission by impatiently pressing his lips to hers. His hand supports her head as his avarice takes over, roughly deepening the kiss more and more. To him, no matter how near their bodies, it will never be enough. There will always be some distance to close.

In return, he gets kisses that are sleepy but not effortless. Noting this, and realizing that he’s getting too excited, he pulls away. When he does, he meets MC with eyes brimmed with compassion. But only for a second as he quickly buries her head into his chest, hiding her from the complete redness that is consuming his face. He ends the night by telling her, “Go back to sleep,” as he feels her warm breath against his skin.

As for her, she falls asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, loud and fast.

 Although falling asleep later, Mammon was the first one to wake up. He wants every second awake he can get holding the woman he’s come to adore. In fact, even though they repositioned during their slumber, he’s still cradling her. As he lies on his back staring at the ceiling, MC sleeps soundly on his chest. He starts to caress her head, feeling the hair that would tickle him occasionally throughout the night on his fingertips, wishing this won’t end.

Unfortunately, this wakes her up after a while and she moves off his chest, much to his disappointment. So much so, that he pulls her back without delay, saying that he’s not done holding her yet. The Avatar of Greed, indeed.

“Mammon, I have to get up.”

But he doesn’t let go. Rather, he tightens his embrace.

“Mammon…” she sinks into him, not wanting to get up either. But she has to go grocery shopping for dinner. It’s her turn. A fact she relays to him, yet he still won’t budge.

“How ‘bout a good morning kiss?” This got his attention. “But I can’t do it from here.”

He relents to this. Eager for another kiss. His grip loosens, allowing MC to position herself in front of him. He props her chin up and runs his thumb over her bottom lip before he goes in. It’s softer this time, slower with deliberate motions. He wants the feel of her lips committed to memory.

Her kisses in answer are the same. In contrast to the tired grazes of yesterday, her touch now is very much alive.

Mammon stops first, distancing himself just enough to where their lips barely touch. Tentatively, he asks, “This… this makes up for last night, yeah?” His lips brush against hers with each word.

MC doesn't want to talk, but they're too close to just silently ask. She opts for a quick, “What do you mean?”

“I wanted our first kiss to-” he stops midsentence, a little bashful by the words. He rephrases, “I wanted to be gentler. But I couldn’t hold myself back once I felt your lips.”

“I didn’t mind at all,” she reassures as she smoothly rubs her nose on his. Afterwards, she furthers the distance for a better look at him as she says, “In fact, I like it when you’re assertive.”

“Don’t say such weird stuff all of a sudden!” An embarrassed expression appears on his face. “Geeze, it’s kinda scary when you act so sweet.” He thinks for a moment until he decides to tell her, “But, you could do more of that…you know, if ya wanted.”

MC feels as though she needs to put his mind to ease. “I like you, Mammon.” She’s sure to enunciate this, clearly saying his name so there’s no doubt about who she’s talking about.

He’s at a loss for words at this point, stunned. A smile soon creeps on his face and the words he finally comes up are filled with self-praise. “Of course ya do!” Secretly though, he’s relieved by what she said. The affirmation of her feelings fills him with confidence.

The conversation continues with MC reiterating that she, unfortunately, needs to go out for groceries. She furthers the argument by reminding him that his twelve hours are up.

A demand for one more kiss is his response, which she gladly indulges. He steadies her with his hands once more, as if it’s a need to feel her body while they kiss. It’s more fervent this time around after hearing her confession; his emotions seemingly exploding into her lips.

The first to pull away this time was MC, sensing that Mammon would never stop. She can’t leave if the kiss never ends, right? Looking at him, she can see he’s visibly disappointed with his eyes still closed.

When he opens them, it’s only slightly and he’s sure to not meet her eyes. If he sees her, it’ll only cause him to try to make her stay again. Instead, he rushes her along. “Just hurry up so you can get back, will ya?”

MC slips back on the clothes from the night before. Stopping short of the door, she turns to face him once more and pauses, pondering on whether she should express the idea on her mind. Ultimately, she chooses to tease him with the one other reason she had prepared to use against him.

“You know,” she gets his attention. “I was gonna entice you with some of my homemade ramen.” The jestful smile on her face cannot be hidden, no matter the amount of lip biting. “But looks like I don’t have to now.”

The speed at which Mammon disregards his previous determination to not look at MC is unimaginable. In fact, he completely abandons the notion to let her go. He hops out of bed almost as swiftly as his stare and bounds for the troublemaker. Reaching her before she can get away, he wraps his arms around her and brings her into a tight embrace of no escape. He’s back to preventing her from leaving. Not until she promises to make his ramen.

In between fits of giggles, MC manages to spill that she planned on doing that anyway. When she gets let go, she gives Mammon one last playful look before she sets off to buy the ingredients of his favorite dish of hers.

#obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me #obey me shall we date #mammon x mc #the lingerie game

[streetlight11]

Deep Scar

Summary: He used to be the popular kid in high school where everyone has a crush on him. He always gets Valentine's Day gifts be it presents, chocolates, homemade brownies, etc. He somehow brought his name to college where there were people who still finds him attractive. What happens when he bumps into a girl who treated him a lot different compared to others? Will he find out the truth behind her behaviour?

Theme: college au, childhood schoolmates but with a bad past

Genre: a little angsty, fluff ending though

Warnings: mild swearing (literally just one word), slight mention of harassment but nothing too crazy

WC: 4.6k

Pairing: Han Jisung x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hey hey :) I've had this in my google drive for quite sometime so my writing might not be so good here but bear with me. P.S the words in italics are his flashback, and hannie might sound like a jerk at one point but this doesn't portray him in real life because irl he's an absolute sweetheart :') Anyways, enjoy reading!

Coming to campus every morning only to find gifts and plenty of love letters in his locker has been becoming a daily routine for Jisung. Although he has never actually reciprocated any of them, he must admit that he did love the amount of attention that’s been drawn to him since back in high school.

He was the popular kid in school where he was known for his intelligence, charming personality and of course, his good looks.

Back in high school, girls would often slot in their confession letters in his locker almost everyday. Every Valentine’s Day, his table would be filled with chocolates and homemade brownies specially for him.

But all of those gifts would eventually be passed to his close friends for them to finish it for him.

Even now when he’s already in college, words spread around the campus of his status back in Saebom High, making everyone in Hankuk College know about him. Despite this new set of attention that was being directed towards him, he managed to make friends with a few people that he trusts.

Some of them were his classmates in college, some were his friends from music class, and some were his good friends back in high school. 

That day was no different as he walked down the hall to go to his designated locker, only to find a pink paper that had been folded into a cute little heart.

“Another love letter? Dude, at this point you should really date one of them so that this whole shenanigan would stop.” Chan said with a soft chuckled as Minho and Jeongin nodded in agreement with the elder boy. Jisung rolled his eyes as he unfolded the paper and read the confession, that was pretty much the same as the other notes he received.

All of which, never got reciprocated simply because Jisung believes he hasn’t found anyone that peaked his interest yet.

After about 5 minutes, he slammed his locker shut as the four boys began to walk down the hall, not missing the constant shy giggles and whispers from every direction. Jisung simply walked with his charming smile plastered on his face, making some girls feel their heart flutter in their chest.

Just when they had made a left turn, a figure smaller than them came crashing straight into Jisung’s shoulder, causing both individuals to stumble back a step from the impact.

“Watch where you’re going, dumbass.” The girl who was rubbing her shoulder said as she locked eyes with him firmly. Jisung was slightly baffled as no other girl would even dare to look at him straight in the eye.

“Excuse me?” He said, his voice clearly confused but the girl simply rolled her eyes at him, slightly annoyed.

“You heard me. I don’t have to say it twice.” 

“Do you even know who I am?” He asked, slowly starting to feel anger boiling through his veins.

“Do you think I care?” She taunts.

“Other girls would be scrambling away by now.”

“Oh, how exciting. Next time, wear side goggles so you can watch where you’re going.” Was all she said before she shoves past him to continue her journey down the hall to go to her class.

Everyone in that hallway was surprised with their little interaction. Some of them even snickered at her for behaving that way in front of him. As far as he knows, all the girls in school never dared to speak to him in person, nor would they even look at him straight in the eyes for they would either run away in embarrassment, or their face would turn flushed red.

Jisung tried not to think much of it as he continued his walk to his class.

During lunch, the boys had gathered at their usual table. However, Hyunjin and Seungmin were running slightly late this time. They were just a few bites into their meal when Hyunjin’s voice caught everyone at their table’s attention.

“Hey guys! Is it okay if our new friend joins us? She just transferred here so me and Seungmin offered her to have lunch with us.”

At the mention of a female, Jisung whips his head around, only to lock eyes with the same girl he bumped into just a few hours prior.

“You again? Try not to miss your mouth this time when you eat.” She said as her gaze locked on Jisung, leaving him speechless.

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchanged glances at each other in confusion but decided to just carry on with lunch as they ended up sitting with her. If she weren’t too direct, Jisung could almost agree that she was acting quite the opposite towards Hyunjin and Seungmin. Maybe with the others as well. She seemed genuinely friendly and almost effortlessly bright with them. 

If he was being honest, it almost upsets him that she treated him like an outcast as compared to the rest of his close friends. Days slowly but surely became weeks as she started to grow visibly close to Hyunjin and Seungmin probably because they were her classmates.

It was a Friday evening and they all decided to go to a pool bar where they had pool tables for people to play and also have light drinks if they wanted to.

They rented out two tables for themselves as they divided into two teams.

“Y/N! Join our team!” Hyunjin called as Y/N giggled, only for her to catch Jisung staring at her from one of the high stools beside the bar.

“I’ll join if he does.” 

She said as she nodded her head towards Jisung, only for the others to immediately drag him to Hyunjin’s pool table. The game soon started as Hyunjin served first. She seems to surprise them everytime she serves because all her shots were smooth and almost effortless. It was as if she’s done this multiple times.

“Wow, how are you so good at this?” Seungmin asked as she smiled at him, only to answer his question.

“I guess I’m pretty good at aiming.”

The boy giggled as they watched Hyunjin score a ball. All the while, Jisung was silently watching her by the side. 

Not in a creepy way but more like in a confused way. After they finished their one hour at the pool bar, they left to get dinner but she decided to call it a day for her and that she needed to go home to feed her starving kitty.

The boys bid her goodbye as she left, only for Changbin to question his friend.

“Jisung ah, you cannot tell me you’re not the slightest bit intrigued by her…”

With that, Jisung frowned as his mind came swirling back to all the times they’ve hung out with her and gotten to know her better. From all the mean comments tossed at each other like they were flat bread, to the time where she seemed genuinely concerned when Jisung nearly got run over by a speeding truck.

“No… No I’m not.”

Only he knows that it was a total lie but he wasn’t going to admit it to his friends. 

His ego was too high for him to easily admit that after all these years of girls trying so hard to win his attention, all he needed was Y/N to come into the picture and that was all it took for him to finally fall for someone.

Nobody needed to know his true feelings for her. He didn’t think it would be much of a big deal so he opted to keep his feelings to himself. It was another week into April, when Chan decided to invite them over to his apartment to hang out and chill on a chilly Saturday. Chan of course included Y/N in the list, hence the reason why she was currently standing outside his apartment door.

She was wearing a brown fitted crop top, her favourite denim ripped skinny jeans, a bomber jacket and her white converse.

She was greeted by Chan as he opened the door wider for her to enter.

She made it inside only to find Felix and Minho challenging each other in a game of Mario Kart Race. Hyunjin, Seungmin and Changbin were busy playing Call Of Duty on their phones. Jisung, Jeongin and Chan were in the kitchen, cooking up some hot kimchi stew.

Y/N took off her jacket as she went to snuggle in between Changbin and Hyunjin, watching them play an intense game of COD.

She was just laying her head on Changbin’s shoulder when he jerked forward, making her body shake as he turned to Hyunjin and high fived him after winning first place. Just then, he noticed the sad pout on her face at the loss of warmth, making him giggle as he sat back down to let her rest her head on his shoulder again before he whispered.

“Sorry baby.” She giggled as she pinched his abs, making him squeak. He laughed as he corrected himself.

“I’m just kidding.”

She smiled as she nuzzled into his shoulder while they were all occupied with doing their own things. A few minutes later, the 3 boys from the kitchen came back to the living room with the pot of kimchi stew and a rice bowl. 

However, Y/N didn’t miss the subtle frown on Jisung’s face when he saw her leaning her head against Changbin’s shoulder.

The 9 of them began eating diligently as they fit in almost any possible topic they could think off. After they finished their meal, she offered to wash the dishes since they were all busy. Chan told her not to trouble herself but she insisted on helping him.

She was scrubbing the second last bowl when she heard Jeongin’s voice calling from the living room.

“Noona! Come join us after you’re done washing the dishes okay? We’re gonna play truth or drink!”

“Okay Jeonginie.” She sang in a sing-song tune as she could hear some of them chuckle in the back.

As promised, she joined them after she was done with the last bowl, only to sit in between Minho and Seungmin. They went in a circle starting from Chan. It was in a circle until it reached her, only for Changbin to eagerly raise his hand.

“Oh! Oh! I have a good one!” Changbin said as his inner corner of the lips curved up into a cute smile, making her giggle.

“If you could go back to your past, what is the one thing that you would choose not to do?” His question was good. It was theoretical but good.

Suddenly, her eyes just instantly found Jisung’s soft brown ones as she told them her answer.

“The one thing I would choose not to do? Probably allowing myself to think that whatever people said to me was true.”

The guys started to frown as they asked if something bad happened to her back then but she simply shrugged them off and told them to continue the game. It went on until it was Jisung’s turn, only for Y/N to speak up.

“I have something I wanna ask him.”

This came as a surprise for the others but they let her do the honours anyway.

“Do you remember the girl who confessed to you back in high school?” She said. His eyebrows began to link together as he frowned at her sudden question.

“Huh?”

“The one where you rejected her confession by humiliating her in front of the whole school?”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Think harder.” She said.

Suddenly, memories start to flood in his mind like a flash flood.

“H-Hi. I made these for you. I hope you like cupcakes. I k-know a lot of other girls do this for you too, b-but… I-I just thought maybe I should give you something too. I- umm, I like y-you Han Jisung.” The girl confessed as she held out the box filled with her homemade cupcakes that she took time to bake for him the night before.

She bit the inside of her cheeks nervously as she diligently avoided his gaze. Just when she saw his arms reaching out to her thinking he was going to take the box from her, he forcefully smashed the box down making it slip out of her hands.

The students around them began to laugh as Jisung lifted a brow at her.

“Did you really think I’d accept your confession? Look at you. Who would date a girl who ties their hair in pigtails, have her tummy sticking out of her uniform shirt and constantly push the bridge of your spectacles up every 5 minutes? Have you seen yourself in a mirror? Nobody will ever fall for you.”

With that being said, he kicked the metal box away to reveal the fallen cupcakes as he went ahead and stepped on them like it was an insect.

The whole school laughed at her as she ran to the girls bathroom and locked herself in there as she cried her heart out. She was only 13 so it was slightly depressing for her to go through this terrible rejection.

Not only did he reject her in cold blood, he also humiliated her in front of everybody in the process. However, what made her even more upset is the fact that he didn’t seem to feel the slightest bit of remorse for saying those things to her.

That memory was as clear as day as he winced at the thought of how immature he was back then. Nevertheless, he didn’t forget the question he got from Y/N as he went ahead to answer her.

“Yeah… Yeah I remember…”

“Do you remember what you said to her?” Her voice softened as she kept her eyes on him while the rest of them had their eyes trained back and forth between Jisung and her.

“I said… I said she should look at herself in the mirror and that no one will ever fall for her.” 

The boys were shocked by how harsh he was to that said girl. Y/N could only smile sadly to him as she slowly continued. 

“Do you feel bad saying those things to her now?” 

Without much thought, he replied something that broke her heart.

“Why should I?” With that, she tried to hold back her tears as she looked at him dead in the eye before saying these next few words.

“Looks like you’re still that same cocky bastard huh?”

She soon got up from her seat on the floor, only to grab her things to leave when Jisung stood up to grab her wrist, stopping her from taking any more steps further.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, now genuinely confused as to what was going on.

“You’re really dense for someone as arrogant as you.” A scoff left her lips as her eyes bore into his, hoping he understood what she meant. After what felt like forever, Jisung finally realized as it was as though his life just flashed before his eyes.

“Wait… that was you?!” His voice was loud as it was laced with confusion and slight disappointment.

“And what happens if I say yes? Are you gonna ask me if I’ve looked into the mirror and realize that no one will ever fall for me?”

Her words stinged like venoms as he winced yet again but this time, at how hurt she seemed. She didn’t realise this but her tears were no longer held back as a few droplets rolled down her cheeks.

“Your words hurted me back then. So I tried to ignore it and move on. But when you said your answer just now, I realized that maybe you really are just an arrogant jerk.”

She finally pulled her arm out of his grasp as she left without sparing a glance to the others. Jisung has never felt so utterly remorseful, today was the first time. He mentally scolded himself for saying those words back when he was young and immature.

He has never felt so fucked up before, this was definitely the first.

A few days went by, Y/N hasn’t talked to either of the boys, not even Hyunjin and Seungmin. Every time Jisung tried to reach out to her, she would always successfully avoid him. It has been almost 2 weeks since they last talked to her as the boys agreed to go release their stress by going to the downtown club.

They had booked a booth for all 8 of them as they sat in there with some girls coming back and forth to try and get laid with either one of them.

Just then, Jisung’s eyes seemed to scan the room only to see a familiar figure dancing freely on the dance floor. He frowned as he rubbed his eyes to make sure they weren’t playing tricks on him.

He double confirmed that it was in fact Y/N, as he got up and left the booth ignoring the boy’s calls.

Right when he was about to reach the dance floor, he saw her deliberately get dragged through the sweaty, intoxicated humans and towards the back door. He followed them close behind as he saw her struggling to free herself from the man’s hold.

The minute she was out the back, the man pushed her against the brick wall as he attacked her neck forcefully.

“Stop!” She begged.

The man ignored as he started to caress her waist and moved up.

“Stop it!” She tried again as tears started to roll down her cheeks desperately.

The minute she managed to put a distance between herself and the man, the metal back door swung open harshly only for her to lock eyes with Jisung as he rushed down the steps, only to land a solid punch to the man’s jaw.

The man fell to the ground drunkenly as he struggled to stand back up.

“What the fuck man? Get your own girl!” The man said as he grabbed Y/N’s wrist and was about to pull her when Jisung roughly shoved him off again.

The man threw a few drunk punches to Jisung and soon they were both in a fist fight. The two males were starting to have blood clots and bruises all over their bodies and faces when Hyunjin and Changbin came to stop the fight.

“Jisung! Jisung! That’s enough!” Hyunjin yelled as they both grabbed Jisung by his arms and pulled him back.

“Don’t ever touch her again.” Jisung growled as the man stumbled back into the club.

Y/N frowned as she visibly hugged herself, only to see Hyunjin and Changbin give Jisung a subtle nod before they both went back inside, giving privacy to Jisung and Y/N. Once they were alone in the dark alley, that’s when she spoke up.

“Why did you come? Afraid someone might fall for me?”

“You clearly weren't comfortable with him.”

“So what? Why do you care? It’s not like he would fall in love with me. Who am I for someone to even like me? Right?”

Jisung frowned as he called out her name softly but she was quick to intercept.

“I didn’t go to Hankuk to get back at you for what you did to me. Never in a million years did I think I’d even see you again. But now that you’re standing here in front of me, that very day comes back to haunt me again. Because of your words, I have been so afraid of falling for someone, even just a tiny crush. That’s what you did to me Han Jisung and I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.”

With that being said, she turned in her heels and left. Jisung stood there like an idiot as he cursed himself for letting her walk away yet again. 

If this happened back in high school, he would probably laugh at her. But now that he was actually starting to like her, he has never felt so upset and disappointed. This was probably even worse than a break up.

She refused to speak to him for days after as she avoided everyone in the friend group.

It was a gloomy Friday night as she was laying on her couch sideways, watching a sappy romantic movie to drown her sadness. She was wearing a loose sweater that made it look like a dress on her. Her calf high socks and a pair of shorts she always wore to sleep.

She had just thought about what she could get for supper when there was a knock on her door.

“Who the hell comes at a time like this?” She thought to herself as she went over to her door and opened it without checking the peephole first. She almost stumbled as she locked eyes with the same pair of brown orbs that she’s been trying so hard to avoid for the past few weeks.

“Jisung? What are you doing here?” She asked, genuinely shocked at how he knew her address.

“Y/N, can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Please just hear me out. I don’t need you to say anything, I just need you to listen.”

She fell silent for a moment before she opened the door wider for him to enter. Once inside, he followed her to her living room, only for them to sit 3 feet apart. She urged him with a slight nod as he took a deep breath and soon began.

“Look. I know whatever I did to you back then was horrible. It was my ego talking. I didn’t know any better. We were so young… How could I possibly feel bad at the time when all I thought was to reject you?”

Just then, she cut him in by saying something that made him rethink his choices.

“You’re telling me that everything you said to me meant nothing to you just because it wasn’t you who received it?”

“I… I wasn’t thinking. I was young-”

“Bullshit. Even a 5 year old kid knows what’s nice and what’s hurtful to say to others. Don’t pull the young card on me.”

“Y/N please-”

“Get out. If you’re still gonna be the same arrogant, highly egoistic jerk then get out. You’ve said things that left a deep scar in my life and here you are saying it doesn’t mean anything? Get out.”

“Y/N-”

“I said get out!” She finally screamed as her chest was heaving, her tears streaming down her face in anger but she didn’t care. She got up as she dragged him to the door, while he tried to fight back. The minute he was out, she slammed the door behind her only to lock it as she found herself sliding down the door, only to sit on the wooden floor.

Her cries were soft, but they were filled with so much pain. On the other side of the door, Jisung could hear her cries as he too kneeled on the ground with his hands against the door.

He could hear her loud and clear as he felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. He couldn’t bear to say a word to her as he remained quiet.

The next morning, Y/N woke up suddenly wanting to get herself breakfast to clear her memory from last night. She got out of bed, took a warm shower, got changed into her sweatpants, a big hoodie and a cap. She unlocked her door and had just taken a step outside when she jumped at the slight of Jisung seated on the ground beside her apartment door.

Since he was a light sleeper, the sound of her door opening, woke him up as he quickly got on both feet.

Before she could re-enter her apartment, he pressed his palms against the door to prevent her from closing it as he spoke up softly.

“Y/N, please, please let me explain.” He begged as she wasn’t sure why but she decided to let him in. Once he was inside, they didn’t even bother to go anywhere further into her apartment as he stood by the door and began to explain himself.

“Y/N, please listen to me. I know what I did was bad. At the time, I didn’t realise how humiliating it was for you. But now that I’m an adult, I realized that my actions were extremely horrible and I would never, ever do that to anyone now.” He paused before he continued on.

“I know that whatever I said and did back then, I can’t take any of it back. And I don’t blame you for not forgetting or forgiving me for it. I admit that I deserve this from you. All I ask is for you to give me another chance to start over. But I understand if you want nothing to do with me.” He said with a tiny hope laced in his voice although he wasn’t so confident that she would forgive him this time.

She knew he felt guilty for whatever he did back then so it wasn’t wrong for her to give him a second chance right?

“How would I know you’re not just acting this way to set me up for humiliation again?” She asked.

“Would I say all those things and bring my ego down just to prove that I felt like utter shit after everything you told me, only to humiliate you even further?”

“Nobody knows what your ego is capable of.”

“If my words won’t convince you, would my actions do?”

“What if you do it, only to leave and tell on me to everyone else?”

“I can’t seem to get your trust now, can I?”

“Try being in my shoe and you’ll know.”

“Y/N please… I know I left a deep scar on you emotionally and mentally back then, but please… I beg you, please just… let me start over. I need you to trust me just this once.”

“Fine. But if you abuse my trust, I’m never speaking to you again.” 

“Believe me, you have no idea how fucked up I felt that night at Chan’s.”

Right after he finished his sentence, he didn’t waste anymore time as he reached up to cup her face in both hands and soon kissed her. She instantly melted against his body as he pulled her closer by the waist. His kisses were so gentle, as if he was afraid he would break her again.

His touch was soft as he slid his hands under her shirt only to draw random patterns onto her waist.

Just then, he pulled away from her lips but it was so addicting he couldn’t help but peck her lips one last time before he spoke up.

“I’m really, really sorry Y/N for everything back then. I couldn’t help but feel like complete shit after that night when I found out that was you. You don’t have to forgive me, I totally understand.”

Y/N just smiled as she gently tangled her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck before she spoke up.

“Would I have let you kiss me if I was still mad?”

He remained quiet as she then continued.

“Besides, I’m giving you a chance to redeem yourself so please, don’t take advantage of this.” She warned gently.

Jisung kissed her for slightly longer before he pulled away and whispered against her lips.

“I promise.”

With that, she smiled as she wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest while he snaked his arms around her smaller figure. 

Ever since then, Jisung did everything he could to redeem himself for what he did to her back in high school. She slowly began to fall for him as she gave him a solid second chance and she could see how genuine he was now whenever he did something nice for her. Even if he didn’t say it out loud, she knew that he really tried his best to win her heart. And it worked.

~~~

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids han jisung #stray kids han scenarios #skz han jisung #skz jisung #skz jisung scenarios #skz jisung imagines

[taeyongtime]

by chance we meet

genre: blind date!au | fluff 

featuring: NCT’s Doyoung

word count: 3,713 words

a/n: inspired by the aggretsuko episode where retsuko meets her first boyfriend at a singles mixer. also happy late birthday to @chipsandwaffles​ <3

“A mixer?”

Your friend nods eagerly. “Yeah, we’re missing one more for our table of eight, wanna join?”

“Who’s going to this thing?” you frown, not wanting to attend if you weren’t going to know any of the other guests.

“Oh, just some of my boyfriend’s coworkers. Guys and girls alike if you prefer one over the other.”

“I don’t know…” The thought of going out on a Friday night to have dinner with complete strangers didn’t quite sit well despite not needing to wake up early for work the next day. 

“I’m not really in the mood to meet new people right now…”

“Come on, don’t be such a party pooper! See you at seven!”

Without even the chance to object, you watch her go with a heavy sigh. As if the work week hadn’t been tiring enough, now you were metaphorically bound to attend a dinner you didn’t even want to go to. It’ll be easy to play hooky, but recalling the eagerness on your friend’s face when she brought up even the mere mention of a mixer…

Soft. You’d gotten too soft with her and it was time to put your foot down on being roped into any more of her schemes, really.

—

“You’re here!”

Waving a hand, you make your way over to the entrance of the restaurant she’d texted you earlier. A quaint little place not too far from your office, the wooden sign overhead boasts of soju and all-you-can-eat meats amid the chilly wind and darkened sky outside the establishment.

“Actually, I…”

“This way, they’re already inside!”

Again losing the chance to wiggle out of socializing, you finally relinquish yourself to the arm offered and pull open the door to let yourselves inside. The host quickly leads you to the reserved table and you see that there were already two girls and three other guys seated around an already-heated up grill. Recognizing no one, you sit at the seat saved for you and make small talk with the girl next to you, exchanging names and inquiring on where she worked before reaching a halt at any new topics to further the conversation.

“Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.”

Getting up from your chair, you hurriedly look for the restroom and eventually find the little door at the very back, only to twist the doorknob without much luck in prying it open. Not hearing any sounds either, you knock twice and nearly fall when the door abruptly swings open and narrowly avoids hitting you in the face. Steadying yourself in the nick of time, you cast a glare at the guy who had just exited, mouth dropping in disbelief when he barely even acknowledges you and walks straight down the hallway. 

Unbelievable. The audacity.

Mood now sour, you shuffle back to the table and find the guests in different seats. The girl you’d spoken with before is now talking to a guy so tall he can easily pass off as a tree had not he spotted you staring and offered a taciturn wave. All around, faces blur before your eyes and threads of conversation weave in and out your ears, tangling into a ball that threatens to trip up your feet if you weren’t careful. Spotting an empty seat, you quickly take it and pour yourself a shot of soju to avoid talking to more people. Not alone in the endeavor to deflect from social interaction, the guy two seats down looks awfully familiar as he does the same. Squinting to get a better look, you suddenly remember the incident at the bathroom and storm over, taking him completely by surprise.

“Can I… help you?”

You place your empty shot glass down and cross your arms in distaste.

“I believe you owe me an apology.”

He arches an eyebrow in question. “Excuse me?”

“You bumped into me outside the bathroom and just walked off like it was nothing!”

Realization is slow to sink in, and he rubs his neck awkwardly after it comes to mind.

“Ah, that… I didn’t see you then, my bad.”

“Hmm, you’re fine,” you grumble, not in the mood to hold grudges in the midst of enjoying a free meal. “At least you remembered, unlike some people.”

A low chuckle leaves his lips before he pours another shot of soju into his empty glass and then refills yours.

“That happened before? You being bumped into by the bathroom?”

“Sure.” You nod in thanks and drain the glass in one go. “One time it wasn’t even an accident.”

“Do tell. If you’re willing to share, of course.”

The first smile to grace your face since stepping into the restaurant brightens up your mood immediately and you take the bottle of soju, refilling the two empty shot glasses and holding yours up to toast.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

He does the same and gently taps your glass, clinking in cheers to a new friend at what had been a very unexpected turnout at the singles mixer.

“Doyoung. Likewise.”

—

You’d somehow spent the entire evening eating, drinking, and chatting with Doyoung, the guy surprisingly easy to talk to despite the sour first impression. He had also been dragged along to the mixer, but rather than to find a date, his  reasons in attending were free food and drinks. Clearly the benefits had outweighed the costs of interacting with strangers in the process. 

Perhaps you both had completely missed the point of the event, but enjoying delicious food was always a pleasure, even more so with a kindred spirit who was equally as understanding about the pointlessness in singles mixers.

“Met anyone cute last night?”

“I had a lot of soju and meat,” you answer without looking up from the files you needed to analyze. “Thanks for paying; the food was delicious.”

“That wasn’t the point!” your friend shrieks, hands grabbing the collar of your black blazer and shaking vigorously while speaking. “The point was for you to meet someone so you’re off the market!”

“Love is not all there is in the world,” you retort, prying her hands off. “Some of us are lucky in that department while others like me just naturally fall short.”

“That’s why I’m helping you meet more people!” 

Five manicured fingers slam onto your desk. “Saturday, 6pm, my boyfriend’s place.”

“I’d rather die than third-wheel you and your Taeyongie.”

“He invited two of his most eligible coworkers after I told him I want to set something up for you. So you definitely won’t be third-wheeling.”

The intensity in her eyes is startling, so much so that you offer to get her a cup of water to calm down after making such a heated proposal to obtain your attendance at her little gathering.

“No, I’m fine. But Saturday, make sure to clear your schedule for dinner.”

“This is the last blind date you’re setting up for me,” you warn, promising to save Saturday evening for her event. “I appreciate the gesture, really I do, but you can’t force these things.”

“Fine,” she sighs, nodding in understanding. “I won’t set you up for more blind dates or drag you to any mixers if you want to let these things happen naturally.”

“That’s not exactly what I said, but thank you.”

“You’re my friend, silly. Friends look out for each other.”

◇

Saturday arrived sooner than you expect and here you are, standing before #3622 of the apartment unit your friend cohabited with her boyfriend. Checking that your outfit wasn’t out of place and makeup not smeared during the rush to arrive on time, you take a deep breath and press the bell. The chime travels within and brings the sound of shuffling footsteps and creak of the door frame soon after the initial ring.          

“Finally!”

The excited screech from inside audible from the front door, you exchange with the boyfriend who had opened said door and he shrugs.

“She’s like that,” he smiles, waving you in. “Please, come in.”

Hanging up your coat on the rack adjacent to the shoe cabinet that housed a mix of sneakers, high heels, and other styles telling of a cohabiting couple, you place your shoes on the side and cringe a little at the dark blue bunny socks snug around your feet. Fingers crossed, hopefully no one would notice.

“Cute socks,” Taeyong adds before making his way to the kitchen. “They look just like the pair my girlfriend has.”

A wave of embarrassment washes over your face immediately, already caught when you had harbored the hope that your socks would go undetected.

“Thanks,” you mumble to yourself, letting out a grunt at the whirlwind that crashes into you and hugs you so close that you find it hard to breathe.

“I can’t breathe.”

“You’re here!” your friend squeals, a sound that threatens to dull your eardrums to oblivion at the close proximity. “Thanks for showing up; I genuinely thought you’d bail on me!”

“We’re friends,” you remind her, spotting an opening to wiggle out of the hug. “Plus, I promised.”

“Come, come, I’ll introduce you while Taeyongie makes dinner.”

She leads you to the living room, the black leather couch with enough occupancy for three already occupied by one other.

“This is Doyoung. Doyoung, Y/N. Y/N, Doyoung.”

“You again?” comes the simultaneous chime at seeing each other’s faces.

“You’ve met before?”

“At the mixer,” you explain, not expecting the unexpected twist of Doyoung being Taeyong’s coworker. “We met there.”

“Well, make yourselves at home and I’ll let you know when food’s ready.

“Small world,” she murmurs, letting you talk with Doyoung while she skips to join her boyfriend in the kitchen.

You turn to Doyoung awkwardly and he’s just as flustered, not knowing what to say as you take a seat next to him.

“So,” you begin, “You work with Taeyong.”

“Yeah,” he nods tersely. “Finance.”

“I’m an accountant,” you reply in kind. “Basically the same department.”

“Sure.”

The tension ever growing with each passing second of silence, your eyes wander around and lock in on an opened box of chocolates on the coffee table. On cue, a low growl emits from your empty stomach and your ears pick up a low snort from Doyoung’s end.

“I didn’t eat beforehand,” you mumble in your defense, grabbing the box and uncovering the lid. Six pieces of decadent chocolates wink up at you, waiting to be eaten. 

“You think they’ll mind if I take one?”

“No,” he replies, “I’ll have one too so you’re not the only one responsible.”

Liking his answer, you share the box with him and end up eating four of the six pieces before finding the willpower to talk to him again.

“Here for free food like last time?”

“Partly,” he divulges, leaning back onto the couch. “Taeyong’s a pretty good cook.”

“The other reason?”

“I have nothing else to do.”

The burst of giggles that escape your mouth shifts the topic away from Doyoung and he is quick to send the question back.

“And you? You can’t be here just to steal your friend’s chocolates.”

“This was supposed to be a setup for me to meet some prospective blind dates,” you reveal, still in the midst of catching your breath. “I… I promised my friend I’d show up.”

“Blind date,” he echoes, “That would make sense as to why there were so many people at the restaurant.”

“It was a singles mixer,” you exclaim, dumbfounded at his slow realization. “Why else did you think there were strangers all gathered together at a table?”

“I thought they were just other friends of Taeyong’s. He’s super popular at work; I can only imagine how it must be outside of work.”

“Heard my name.” A head pops in from around the corner. “Need anything?”

“We’re good,” Doyoung speaks up. “Are you good?”

Taeyong reaches his hands behind his back and unties the string of the blue apron over his white tee. 

“Johnny couldn’t make it, so it’s just you two eating with us.”

“A double date?” you whisper under your breath. “What a scam.”

“Sorry, didn’t catch that.”

“Nothing,” you blurt quickly, bumping Doyoung’s elbow. “We’ve been eating your chocolates while waiting; hope you don’t mind.”

“They’re quite good,” Doyoung joins in, picking up on your signal for help. “Where’d you buy them?”

“Homemade,” Taeyong replies, “Hopefully you two didn’t eat all of it when I’m already done with dinner.”

The last two pieces of chocolate are quickly shifted to the front of the case to give the illusion that there were still plenty, and Doyoung strategically places the lid at an angle so only said pieces are seen upon first glance.

“Go,” he whispers, ushering you out. “I’ll be right behind you.”

—

Can it be fate’s call that Doyoung is the one?

You’d already met him on two blind dates, both instances completely by chance that he would be the one you chose to engage with. Great minds that think alike, the vibes between the two of you went along the same wavelength, as if you’d known him forever—even though that wasn’t the case at all. Was he really the one to take you off the market when you’d been available for so long?

After Saturday’s dinner, he had offered to take you home even though his apartment was in the opposite direction and nearly stayed the night if he didn’t bring up the fact that he would miss the last train should the discussion on the joys of eating all of your friend’s chocolates continue further. Letting him go and texting to meet up again the next day, he was prompt to accept the invitation, even returning the gesture for dinner next Friday at another barbecue restaurant for drinks and all-you-can-eat meats. The back-and-forth invitations persisted for a good month, yet neither you nor he ever asked the question about making the relationship as one of more than friends.

Did he not like you back? Or was it all just a misinterpretation of what was clearly becoming a close-knit friendship?

—

“So… anything happen between you and Doyoung?”

“We’re friends now, if that’s what you’re wondering about.”

The disgruntled noise above your head elicits an eyeroll and you tune out the incoming rant about wasting a good friend’s efforts in helping you find the love of your life.

“Are you even listening to me?” she whines, waving her newly manicured hands over your computer screen.

“You painted your nails pink this time.”

“Mean!” She leaves you alone and you can practically see the pout and protruding tongue on her face as you watch her go. Returning your attention to the stack of reports waiting to be reviewed, an hour or so easily flies by. Before you know it, the entire office is empty and dark save the little desk light shining next to your canister of pens. So absorbed you were that you hadn’t even noticed everyone else had already gone home while you were still looking through financial reports.

“Maybe I’m working too hard…”

Grabbing your jacket and briefcase, you remember to lock the doors before taking the elevator down to the main lobby. The security guard on night duty gives a slight nod before holding open the door, and you step out into the chilly cold of the night. No wind, but the relatively thin pants and white blouse on top do little to offer much warmth.

“You have a jacket, you know.”

Turning around, you nearly drop your briefcase at the sight of the figure standing not too far from the curb. In Doyoung’s hand is a cup of coffee, which he promptly offers after you put on your jacket.

“You’re finally clocked out,” he begins, gesturing at the dark office building. “I was thinking you had overtime after everyone left and I didn’t see you.”

“How do you know where I work?” you ask, enclosing both hands around the coffee cup to obtain as much heat emanating from the hot liquid.

“I followed Taeyong when he said he was going to pick up his girlfriend from work today.”

“Ah…”

You take another sip of coffee and he asks if you’d be willing to have dinner with him, the offer too tantalizing to reject when he promised to be the one paying. Giving him the choice of location, you’re even more surprised when he brings you to take the train, getting off at a stop not too far from what looked to be a food fair. Tents propped up along every inch of the path boast of local street foods and drinks while people enjoying the park or who have already bought food sit on blankets by the grassy meadows overlooking the large riverbank. 

Not what you had expected when he said he’d treat you to a meal.

“There’s a food fair tonight,” he explains, naturally pulling you closer as hordes of people push past to reach their favorite stalls. “Anything you want, you pick and I’ll pay.”

You lick your lips in anticipation, prepared to empty his entire wallet.

“Anything I want?”

“Anything,” he laughs, “My wallet has enough to fill you up until you explode.”

“Even lobster?”

Doyoung follows your line of sight to the stall selling grilled cheese lobster, already knowing it would be the first thing you wanted since it was the most expensive item at the fair.

“Get me one too.”

Never one to enjoy crowded areas, tonight is an exception that you find yourself enjoying immensely as you hop from stall to stall with Doyoung right behind. Lobster, spicy rice cakes, meat skewers, fried dumplings, the choices are endless at every corner you turn. Not to be outdone, Doyoung is always one step ahead of you with wanting to try something else when you hadn’t even finished what you currently had on hand, and you eventually call it quits after buying a carton of banana milk from the convenience store to quench your throat from all the hot food.

“I’m full,” you groan when he returns with two soft serves. “You’re going to have to eat those yourself.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, sitting down on the grass. “The lady was kind enough to make these taller for me when I told her it was for my date.”

The word ‘date’ catches you off guard and you quickly look away, not knowing what to say.

“I’ll give it away if you’re sure you don’t want it.”

Extending a hand, you take the cone before he changes his mind and ignore the snicker from his end. The cold dessert is quick to melt despite the chilly air, or perhaps you were just too slow in eating it when you were still full from all the food you ate earlier.

“It’s dripping all over your fingers,” Doyoung nags, dabbing at your hands with a napkin. “Wait, I have another.”

As he wipes your hands clean with a stash of napkins from his jacket pocket, you study his angular face, not quite sure what about him was so captivating that you continued to stare even after he had finished cleaning off the melted soft serve.

“Something on my face?”

“No.”

“Oh. You kept staring at me, that’s why.”

“You… You’re quite handsome, Doyoung.”

“Are you drunk?” he laughs, pressing a hand against your forehead. “No, you’re fine.”

“Why… why did you call this a date?”

“I asked you out and you agreed. Does that not make this a date?”

“I mean…” You shift a little, legs growing numb from being seated in a prolonged position. “You never told me you liked me or anything.”

Now it is his turn to remain silent, and he takes his hand away before placing both palms on the grass and leaning back to look up at the night sky. Following his gaze, the smallest twinkle of a star sparks against the dark backdrop, and you point out another not too far from the first.

“Would it be too late if I told you now?”

“No,” you shake your head, voice growing small. “It’s never too late for that.”

He scoots closer and your hands touch, the sensation shooting up sparks of electricity that warm your face in the cold of the night. Turning towards him, you take a deep breath and press a chaste kiss against his cheek, equally as flustered at your boldness as he.

“So does this mean you’re fine with being my date?” he begins tentatively. “Not a blind date but as a forever kind of date?”

You smile, not at all surprised by his lingering doubt. 

“What do you think, Doyoung? We’ve already had two blind dates and I’ve always showed up. Would I take precious time out of my busy schedule to meet with someone I don’t like?”

“I don’t know, maybe you’re the spiteful type that shows up just to reject me.”

Loud laughter echoes across the park, turning heads to the pair of new lovers who were starting to bicker amid the grassy knolls. Those who didn’t know only see the smiles and warmth in their eyes despite the breeze that blows past, the little bubble encapsulated around the two keeping them oblivious to the rest of the world.

—

“Another mixer?”

“Yeah! Go with me; there’s going to be free drinks!”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” you bring up, shutting down your computer and grabbing your jacket from the chair. “Why are you going when you already have your Taeyongie?”

Your friend pouts, blowing a raspberry at his name. “Don’t talk to me about him.”

“You two didn’t break up, did you?”

“No. He’s just working overtime again. For the third consecutive night.”

You let out a noise of understanding, then shake your head at the offer. 

“I do enjoy free drinks, but tonight I’m going to pass.”

“Pass?” She follows you out of the office, heels clicking against the tiled floor. “You have plans tonight?”

“Yup.” Into the elevator you two go, and once the doors open down at the lobby, you step out and spot Doyoung immediately. He raises an arm to wave, holding up what looked to be a cup of coffee in his other hand.  

“I can’t join you when my boyfriend’s here to pick me up from work.”

#neowritingsnet #nct scenarios #doyoung scenarios #nct imagines #doyoung imagines #nct #doyoung #nct fanfic #doyoung fanfic #nct fluff #doyoung fluff #it's been too long i forgot how to tag lmao

[moonlit-han]

the constellation of cup noodles ↠ bang chan

genre: idol!au, angst, fluff pairing: bang chan x non-idol!gender-neutral reader word count: 3.3k warnings: angst, suggestive, a bit of swearing request: yes

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

You weren’t used to being at work this late, since tonight was your first night working the night shift. It was 9:33 pm when the door to the convenience store opened, the bell jingling obnoxiously. Looking up from the book you were reading, you saw someone in dressed in all black with a black face-mask covering their nose and mouth, and a baseball cap pulled down over their eyes. They made a beeline for the mild instant noodles on the back shelves. After a few minutes, they came up to the counter with not just one pack of noodles but a whole case of thirty.

“Good evening,” they said politely. “Is it possible to buy the whole case?”

You were a bit taken aback—people never wanted to get quite that much of the instant noodle goodness. “Um, sure!” you said. “There’s no reason why not. Is that it?”

“Great,” the customer said, and held out a card for you to run. “Um, here you go.”

You took the card, trying to ignore how pretty their voice was. You had the feeling they might be famous in some way, as they kept their mask and hat on and didn’t try to make much smalltalk. Sometimes you got idols in the shop, and this person fit the general stereotype of a person trying to be inconspicuous but being more conspicuous in trying. Making a point not to look at the name on the card, you rang up the crate of noodles and handed it back to the customer with their receipt.

“Have a good evening and come again!” you said as they made their way out of the shop. Then, you realized you should actually be a good person and rushed out from behind the counter. “Wait! Let me get the door for you!”

The customer waited, holding the crate of instant noodles with surprising ease, then walked down the two steps down to the sidewalk. “Thanks, Y/N,” they said, surprising you with the use of your name. “Have a good night.” With you totally not staring after them, they walked away, turning their head up to the sky to see if there were any stars visible that night.

A week later, it was raining harder than if you had stood under a waterfall. Person after person had come into the shop that day to buy an umbrella, most of them business people but some students, too. Around 9:30 pm, the bell jingled and you fought the urge to knock it from its hook. You heard a grateful sigh as someone came in out of the rain. Peaking around the counter, you saw someone wearing all black and a black face-mask pull down their hood and take off a baseball cap. They shook out their slightly damp, black hair and ran their fingers through it, shaking their head, as they made their way to the instant noodles. You wondered, idly, if this was the same person who’d come in the week before.

When they came up to the counter carrying a whole crate of noodles, you knew it was the same person.

“Hey, Y/N, right? You were working last week when I came in,” the customer said. It was evident to you now that they were a young man around your age—you could hear a foreign accent dancing around the edges of his speech, but it wasn’t noticeable enough for you to tell what it was.

“Yeah, I remember you, too,” you said, studying his face. “If you don’t mind me asking, why the mask and hat all the time?”

Even with the mask on, you could tell the young man was smiling a little nervously, to the point it almost looked like a grimace. “Well, I don’t really want to be recognized,” he said, voice low, and unhooked the mask from around one of his ears. “But I guess I’ll make an exception—you seem chill.”

You had to school your expression so that it wasn’t obvious that you immediately found him attractive. Wildly attractive. He had wonderfully sparkling eyes and a mouth that clearly smiled often.

“A- Are you an idol?” you said and mentally kicked yourself. Of course he was an idol.

The young man in front of you laughed lightly and nodded. “Yeah. My name’s Bang Chan and I’m with JYPE.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N . . . as you know already,” you could feel yourself blushing.

“Nice to meet you, too, Y/N. Um, could you ring this up, please?” Chan asked, smiling ruefully.

“Oh, yeah—sorry!” You rang up the noodles, then said, “Could I ask a question?”

“Sure—as long as it’s not too personal.”

“Why are you buying thirty packs of instant noodles every Saturday?” you asked, not caring that it was a slightly silly question. You gave Chan his card and receipt.

Chan laughed, the sound bright and delighted. “It’s for my members, who like to eat way too many,” he patted the crate of noodles, “of these. I mean, I do, too, but it’s mainly for them.”

You were about to say something, but Chan continued. “Um, I’ve got to get back, and it looks like the rain’s letting up a little. I’ll see you around, Y/N!” he said, and flashed a small smile at you.

Still not believing that you’d just met one of the handsomest people you’d ever seen, and actually had a coherent conversation with him, you stared after Chan as he left the shop. The rain had, indeed, let up a bit, but he still jogged through the puddles on the sidewalk, crate of instant noodles in hand.

After he’d come in around 9:30 pm on three Saturdays in a row, you thought it might be becoming a pattern or already was one before you’d changed your shift. So, when Chan came in to get the noodles, starting toward the back shelves, you called, “I’ve already got it up here!”

Chan turned and came toward you, a wide smile on his face. “Y/N, hey, what’s up? Thanks, by the way.”

“Have you had a good week?” you asked, smiling back.

“Eh, I’ve been busy, but at least I’ve gotten enough sleep.” Chan ran a hand through his hair—he seemed to do that a lot around you.

“Hey, that’s good! Make sure to drink enough water, too.” As you said it, you realized you were probably telling someone who drank more water than you to do so, but so what! He should!

Chan laughed lightly. “So, how was your week, then? Anything interesting happen in here?”

“Nope, not really. Honestly, you coming in is probably the most exciting thing that’s happened,” you said, trying not to sound like you were flirting with every fiber of your being. (You were, in fact).

“Well, it’s a small but genuine highlight of my week, too, Y/N,” Chan said. He leaned on the counter.

You felt yourself blush a little, and looked down at the register. “Oh, I still need to ring you up,” you said, trying to ignore Chan’s eyes on you. No way. No. Way. An idol from JYPE flirting with you? That just didn’t happen . . . did it?

“Um, Y/N?” Chan said a little hesitantly. “You alright?”

You realized that you’d been standing there, lost in your thoughts, despite having said you needed to ring him up. “Oh my god, sorry. Yes, okay, thanks.” Taking the card, you quickly completed the transaction and gave him the receipt. “They just changed the policy, so could you sign the store copy, please?” you said, feeling bad for asking him to do one more thing.

“Sure!” Chan said and signed, taking slightly longer than you’d have guessed.

As he picked up the instant noodles and made to leave, he said, “Can you check that I gave you the right copy back? I’ve been known to take the wrong one.” He smiled ruefully.

You looked down at the receipt and saw “Store Copy” printed at the top, but your attention was drawn to the bottom where he’d scrawled his signature. Below the line, he’d written a phone number. You looked back up to see him still standing in front of you and you raised your eyebrows, as if to say, What? Chan just grinned and winked, then headed out the door. Yet again, you found yourself staring after him.

As soon as your shift ended, you typed the number into your phone and sent: “Hi, this is Y/N. I hope this is the right number.”

You got a response back immediately: “Hey, Y/N! You definitely got the right number 😊 I’d keep texting right now, but I’ve gotta go to bed right now bc I’ve already been up too late hoping you’d message 😅 I hope you have a peaceful sleep and lovely dreams. Goodnight! —Chan💕”

You squealed. What else would you do? You squealed with absolute glee over the fact that you were definitely flirting and texting a) someone, b) someone extremely attractive who somehow thought you were, too, and c) an idol! How the hell had this happened?

As you got ready for bed, you would occasionally look at the message, just to make sure it was real and you hadn’t imagined the whole thing. Nope, still there and cute as ever. You went to sleep with a smile on your face and did, indeed, have lovely dreams.

↠↞

For weeks, you'd been counting down the days and then hours until Chan had to leave to go on tour, and now that it was the night before he was leaving, you had no idea what to do. While you were happy for him and the others to get back to touring, and prouder than he could ever imagine, you couldn't help but feeling lost. You chided yourself—Chan hadn't even left yet and you already felt like a baby bird pushed too early from the nest. After deliberating over idea after idea for what to do for his last night with you until two months from now, you’d decided that just staying in was the best choice.

You brought Chan through the entrance to your apartment complex to the rooftop garden where you’d set out a meal on a small area of grass, looking out over the city to the mountains. You’d made or bought all his favorite dishes, and even nestled candles in two jars to provide a little light as darkness descended. The late summer air was cool in the evening, which, you thought gleefully, would be perfect for cuddling.

As Chan saw the spread, he turned to you, a bright smile on his face. “Is this all for me?”

“Of course!” you said, leaning against him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Oh, my sweet dove,” Chan said, wonderingly and kissed your cheek, turning to fold you into his embrace. You twined your arms around his neck to properly kiss him, relishing his warmth and solidness. After a moment, Chan looked over your shoulder, sniffing curiously.

“Is that—” he began.

“It’s all your favorites, babe,” you said, keeping an arm around Chan’s waist. There was no way in hell you were letting go of him until the morning when he would have to leave. Together, you sat on the blanket you’d spread on the grass.

“You’re the best, you know that?” Chan said, wonder in his voice. “I still can’t believe I’m dating you.” He leaned his head against yours.

“Yeah, I know,” you said, smiling. “I can’t believe it either.”

You distinctly remembered the weeks before Chan had received the “OK” from his company to date you—it had incensed you that your love life would now be dictated by the whims of some entertainment company. And when he’d said he was going to ask if he could officially date you, you were on edge for the long weeks until you got the best news of your life. Some mornings, you still pinched yourself to see if this reality was real. Sighing, you brought your thoughts back to the present where your boyfriend was clearly just itching to dig into the food spread before you.

“Channie, you should eat,” you said, running your hand up and down his side encouragingly.

“You have to, as well, though,” he said, concern coloring his voice.

You chuckled. “Get yours first, babe.”

Chan clapped his hands together excitedly, wriggling like an happy corgi. He took some of everything you’d prepared, making happy little noises as soon as he began to eat. You filled a plate, too, and the two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the sunset. The last rays of the sun lanced through clouds that were being driven away by a light breeze—you might even be able to see some stars later.

As you finished your food, your thoughts turned again to the fact that Chan would be gone for two whole months. You set your plate down and rested your head against your boyfriend’s shoulder, trying not to feel too down. Chan’s arm went around you, pulling you closer and you snuggled into his side.

Chan, ever sensitive to your moods, murmured in your ear. “I’ll only be gone for two months, dove. And then, I’ll fly right back to you.” He carefully pulled you into his lap and you nuzzled his neck, which must have tickled him because he let out a soft chuckle. “We can message all the time and even video chat, if I have strong enough WiFi. We’ll be fine, I promise.”

“But Chan, you’re going overseas. On tour. I- I just want you to be safe,” you replied, fighting the catch in your voice.

Just admitting that you were worried for him made you feel even more like your world would start to crumble in less than twenty-four hours. It wasn’t that you were unhealthily codependent—far from it, since you were in school and he was an idol with a busy schedule. You couldn’t be codependent. But, there was still comfort in knowing that he’d be there to hold you when you couldn’t deal with the stress of classes anymore and you’d be there when his job became too demanding or when unknown fans sent wholly unnecessary hate. After almost a year of dating, you were used to having him in the country, at least.

“I’ll be with the others,” Chan reassured you. “And the company always makes sure we fly and travel well—don’t worry. My dove, my dear one, please don’t worry too much for me? Save some worry for me to have for you.”

“Baby—” you began, but Chan stopped you by bringing his mouth to yours. His lips were slightly chapped as usual, but you didn’t care. The kiss tasted of resignation, sadness, worry, and, of course, love. You let yourself get lost in the feeling of Chan’s body against yours, the way his hands found their way into the back pockets of your jeans, the softness of his kisses. More than anything, you were going to miss this: casual, simple affection that was never hurried nor heated, but just what was needed in the moment. You’d miss waking up beside him and rolling over to curl into his side, or being the big spoon when he just needed to be held and comforted. You’d miss going on walks in the park along the river, eating street food late at night, and— Dear god, you’d miss the sex. You really weren’t sure how you were going to stand it.

You drew back after long moments of languid kissing in which you’d still managed to slip your hands up under Chan’s shirt, and looked at your boyfriend. Tears pricked your eyes, and you hastily wiped them away. He would be back—that much was certain. The look in Chan’s eyes told you that he knew was, in truth, just as distraught to leave you for so long.

“Can’t you stay a little longer?” you whispered, holding his face in your hands and kissing him over and over again.

“Dove, you know I can’t. I wish I could, but then I’d never leave. It’s- It’s our world tour—I have to go. Fuck, I’m gonna miss you, Y/N.” Chan’s voice finally broke as he said your name and he held you to his chest as tightly as he could, burying his face in your neck.

You clung to him and he to you, whispering that you loved each other as the stars began to appear overhead. His lips found yours again, and you were certain that you wouldn’t be able to stop kissing, stop holding him unless someone pulled you away. Once you were both thoroughly breathless from wonton kissing, you looked up at the sky, which had turned a deep, velvety blue.

“Channie,” you said, threading your fingers through his hair over and over again as you sat together. He was tracing swirls onto the back of your hand, fingers light on your skin. “Look at the sky.”

He looked up, and sighed. The breeze had blown away the clouds and even some of the smog, revealing the first pinpricks of stars above you. Chan pulled you down on the blanket beside him so you could lay and look up at the stars. You simply watched them seemingly fade into existence as the last vestiges of light left the sky, true dark folding you in its embrace like a cloak made of shadow. Once there were enough stars out, Chan began to point out constellations.

“See? There’s Orion with his belt of three stars. Oh! And there’s Andromeda—it’s almost a double-u shape.” Chan pointed them all out to you, even though he’d taught them all to you before. “And that,” he said confidently, “is the Constellation of the Cup Noodle. Note the single noodle trailing down its side.”

You gently elbowed him, giggling. “You made that up!”

“No, really!” Chan protested, reaching for your hand to hold. “There’s the round top and see those stars on either side? Those are the container itself. And then that line of stars down there,” he pointed, “is the one noodle hanging over the side!”

“You get sillier every day, babe,” you laughed, and rolled over so that you were partially on top of Chan. “If you say it’s the Constellation of the Cup Noodle, then I guess it is.”

“You know you love it, dove,” Chan said, rubbing your back and leaning his head forward to kiss your nose. “Hell, it’s cold now. Let’s go back to your bedroom and warm up, shall we?” He said, and even in the dark, you could see him wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Bringing your linked hands to your lips, you kissed along Chan’s palm and then to the tip of each of his fingers. “Mmmm,” you mused, “you’ll have to put these pretty fingers to good use, then, won’t you?” You sucked his index finger a little, giving him the most innocent doe eyes you could.

Chan’s soft laugh shook both of you. “Oh, dove, how you’re tempting me. You’ll have to wait until we get back inside.” He moved to sit up and you found yourself laying in his lap. “Although, I think I could arrange a little preview, if you think you can be quiet . . .”

You nodded eagerly, and clamped your lips shut just as Chan brought his lips back to yours and his hand snaked under the waistband of your pants. It was lucky that he was kissing you, you thought. Otherwise, the whole city might have heard you in what was only the first of many times that night. 

#i'm just gonna leave this here and go to bed~ #inkidz #ultkpop #0325net #bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan fanfic #bang chan angst #bang chan fluff #bang chan scenarios #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids chan #skz #skz imagines #skz angst #skz fluff #skz fanfic #skz bang chan #skz scenarios #bang chan x reader #.moonlight #moonlit-han

[stilloutofmyvulcanmind]

May Flowers Challenge Day 22

Prompt: “Of course I remembered!” requested by Anon

Pairing: Damian Wayne & Batmom!Reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: None

It was instinct to want to go all out. You had for all the boys, still did when you could, even though Dick and Jay were grown now, and so naturally you gravitated towards the idea for Damian too. It was his first birthday since coming to live at the Manor, and you knew enough about his past to understand that it had never really been celebrated. And despite your relationship with Damian being still somewhat…turbulent, you wanted to spoil him, throw him the party he deserved. 

Bruce had ultimately talked you out of it, saying that he'd hate to have that much attention on him, especially when he was still settling in. 

You agreed. You wanted to make him happy, not uncomfortable. That didn’t mean he was going to get away with not being spoiled. Oh no, he was getting a great birthday even if it was a much more lowkey event.

It started by working with Alfred. Both of you had been keeping note of Damian’s favorite foods, and on the morning of his birthday he was presented with a feast of everything he liked. Bruce had been called into work, he’d given Damian a gift before leaving, so it was just the two of you. Though you didn’t announce the breakfast feast was specifically for his birthday, you caught the narrowing of his eyes as he looked it over. Suspicion didn’t stop him from eagerly scoffing down more food than you thought an eleven-year-old boy could handle, however. Alfred’s cooking tended to do that.

“I thought maybe we could do something today?” You suggested towards the end of the meal. He’d been lucky enough that the day had fallen on a Saturday, and it seemed a shame to waste the opportunity. “Get some lunch, catch a movie?”

Damian hesitated. “Just the two of us?”

“Unless you want someone else to join us? I’m sure Dick would come too.”

“No. There’s no need to rope him into anything. Just us will be fine.”

“Okay. Finish up your breakfast, and we’ll get going in an hour or so.”

Damian did as you said, disappearing up to his bedroom while you got a few other things sorted. 

Soon you were both out in one of Gotham’s newer shopping districts, browsing the stores, picking out a few new items. A few as in everything Damian spotted that he liked. It was nice, and the smile on his face when you went to lunch at his favorite vegan restaurant was worth the favors you’d had to pull to ensure a table would be free when you arrived. 

It was good to see him happy, even better to see him able to act his age for once.

The movie was next. A sci-fi blockbuster that Damian spent most of the time complaining about due to the lack of realism. You didn’t have the heart to point out that he and Bruce dressed up nearly every night to fight villainous clowns and walking ice-cubes. Not when he was still enjoying it all, the bitching coming between mouthfuls of popcorn.

Then it was time to return home. You’d wrangled everyone into being there for a small family dinner, and made all of them swear not to make a big fuss. They all gave him his gifts outside of the dining room, and Tim even went out of his way to avoid an argument with him. 

Everything seemed to be going perfectly, though Damian would never of course admit he’d been having a good day.

His only genuine distress came when Bruce adamantly refused to let him out on patrol. He’d been out several times in the past week already, and he wasn’t actually on the roster for that night, but nevertheless, he wanted to go anyway. And like always, Bruce didn’t budge on his decision. 

You found him sulking in the library, flicking through a book he wasn’t even reading.

“Come downstairs. I’ve got something for you.”

“What is it?”

“A surprise.”

Damian scowled, obviously suspicious, but followed you anyway. 

Taking him back into the now-empty dining room, you stepped to the side to let him see the cake that sat in the center of the table. Damian took a second to study it. The cake was decorated in red and green,  the words ‘Happy Birthday Damian’ written on top in yellow, with a small ‘R’ sitting in the corner. Only Alfred and Bruce knew you’d made it, wanting to keep it both a surprise and safe from other hungry mouths.

“Did you make this?” Damian asked.

“Last night while you and your Father were out on patrol.”

“For me?”

“Unless you know another Damian with a birthday today.”

“I didn’t think you’d remembered. You’ve been so nice today, but then you are always nice and you didn’t mention it, so I presumed you didn’t.”

“Of course I remembered! I didn’t want to be too overbearing.”

Damian nodded, “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“You’re welcome. Want to try a slice?”

Another nod and you picked up the utensils you’d set aside and cut two slices. Damian got the corner with the ‘R’. 

“What do you think?” You asked once he’d had the chance to get a couple of bites in.

“It is the best cake I’ve ever had,” he said around a mouthful. He swallowed and looked down at the plate. “It’s the only birthday cake I’ve ever had,” he added, much more quietly.

“Damian…” Setting your plate down, you knelt in front of him. “I’m sorry.”

“There have been several occasions where my words and actions towards you were less than savory or pleasant, yet still you have always gone above and beyond to try to make me happy, going so far as to do things my own Mother never even attempted. Why?”

“Because I love you, and I want nothing more than to see you happy.”

Damian was in your arms before you knew it, wrapping his arms around you and holding on tightly. “Thank you. For today, and for everything.”

You hugged him back just as tightly. “Of course, sweetheart.” Damian pulled back but kept his hands on your shoulders. You smiled. “How about we take this cake and have a movie marathon? Just us?”

Damian smiled back. “I would like that.”

Like what you read? Consider buying me a coffee! (I’ll love you forever!)

#May Flowers Challenge #damian wayne x batmom #damian wayne x reader #Damian Wayne #batmom #BatFam #batfamily #damian wayne imagine #dc imagine

[hannie-dul-set]

saturday came rolling by quicker than you'd expected.

standing near the entrance of the rather expensive restaurant (you swore that even the plants by the door are worth more than everything you were wearing combined) you opened your phone, double checking to make sure you were at the right place that jaehyun's mother messaged you.

admittedly, it was a bit weird that you were hanging our with your new friend's mother whithout the knowledge of that said friend, but even if you wanted to back out, you couldn't because it would be rude to do so.

you returned your phone back into your white sling bag after confirming that this was indeed the place and made your way into the entrance, the restaurant's guard opening the door for you.

the moment you stepped in, you started to feel a bit self conscious. you were only wearing a simple navy blue wrap dress underneath a cream cardigan and a pair of sandals to match— deeming you absolutely out of place inside the fancy interior of the establishment.

to the eyes of the occupants of the restaurant, you probably looked like a lost puppy considering your attire and the fact that you had no idea where the hell mrs. jung was.

"miss, can i help you?"

your search was interrupted by one of the waiters, you assumed.

"oh, um, i'm looking for mrs. jung..?"

were you supposed to say that? at that point you didn't even care— you just wanted this whole lunch thing over and done with.

"ah, then you must be y/n l/n, correct?" you were slightly confused, but you nodded anyway.

"follow me, miss."

and so you did, carefully treading along the restaurant floor. you were afraid if you even breathe in the wrong direction, you'd end up breaking one of the many expensive decorations littered all around the place.

the waiter lead you to a secluded part of the restaurant. sunlight was beaming into the large arch windows that were adorning the walls and there were only three tables set up, all of which were unoccupied save for the one at the very end.

as you moved further inside, the two people that were sitting at the last table had noticed you and the waiter walking in. their heads turned towards your direction and you stopped in your tracks.

one of them was mrs. jung, obviously, but the other one you weren't quite expecting.

"miss y/n?"

"jaehyun?"

amidst your shock, the waiter had already left, leaving the three of you alone. your eyes were frozen stuck on jaehyun dozens of question marks floating around his head.

you were confused, but then you remembered that this was her son, of course he'd be here. but couldn't she at least have told you?

"y/n, dear, it's good that you've finally joined us! i was worried that you wouldn't come."

jaehyun was the first to snap back into reality. he diverted his attention from you to his mother.

"mother," you couldn't pinpoint the exact emotion he was carrying in his voice. "care to explain why miss y/n is here?"

"i invited her, of course," mrs. jung seemed to be completely unbothered by not so pleasant demeanor that her son was baring.

"sorry, i can just leave if you'd like," the atmosphere was unbearably uncomfortable and you'd much rather just leave if you could. you gave them a small bow before turning your heels, hand clutching your bag as you were about to leave.

"no, it's alright—" the screeching of a chair was heard and you felt a hand grab onto your arm, preventing you from moving forward. you turned around and you were met with a rather frantic looking jaehyun. "you can stay."

eyes wide from the sudden close proximity, your gaze moved back and forth from jaehyun's very very close face to his hand that was holding onto you— you could feel the heat slowly rising to your cheeks.

jaehyun must've noticed the situation that you two were in and he let go of you hurriedly, a coughing out a small sorry in the process. from the corner of your eye you could see his mother looking at the both of you with an amusement in her face. mostly because of his son's absolutely uncharacteristic behavior but you weren't aware of that.

"i apologize if my words sounded rude," jaehyun started, finally managing to get himself back together. "it wasn't my intention to send you away— i was just surprised to see you again."

"no it's okay," you gave him a smile of assurance and he visibly relaxed.

you nearly forgot that his mother was actually here (not to mention she was the one who invited you) until you heard her speak up.

"maybe i'm the one who should be leaving?" she teased, jaehyun giving her a disapproving look.

"you're staying. i believe you still have some explaining to do, mother."

much to your surprise, lunch went a lot better that you'd expected, especially taking into account the prior events that took place. mrs. jung eventually told jaehyun everything— the fact that she contacted you last time as well as her reasonings. jaehyun wasn't really upset that his mother was trying to set you two up, he was absolutely flustered to the highest point— cheeks flaring and avoiding eye contact from you as much as possible, you couldn't help but laugh at him, furthering his embarrassment.

"i apologize for my mother's behavior," he tells you (although, his eyes were looking everywhere else except for you).

the evident unease that was present earlier was replaced with comfortable air to which you were surprised, but nevertheless you were thankful. the conversation went on until the topic eventually landed on you.

"y/n," jaehyun's mom started, taking a sip from her peach-colored drink before continuing. "i realized i never got to ask your age."

"ah, i'm turning twenty-one this year," you replied, earning a hum from the older woman.

jaehyun places down his fork, diverting his attention towards you instead. "you must be in school then. do you mind me asking what your major is?"

"oh, no i'm not, actually,"

you continued to eat your food (you asked jaehyun what it was called but it your ears failed to understand the rich language) while the two of your companions promptly stopped, expecting you to continue. the sudden attention directed on you was a bit discomforting, so you placed your utensils down and wiped your lips with the napkin available.

"i can't really afford college so i'm still trying to save."

"what about your parents?" jaehyun asked, concern lacing his voice. "shouldn't they be the one's supporting you?"

"they sort of abandoned me after i graduated high school," you reply, staring at the untouched drink in front of you. "so i had to do things on my own from there."

you didn't really have a problem talking about your situation— you'd always been one to believe that all things happen for a reason, so you don't hold anything against your parents. you were never one to dwell on things; you'd rather choose to just keep on moving forward no matter how many setbacks you encounter. but of course, even though you had moved, emotions from the past sometimes resurface.

"i'm so sorry to hear that, sweetie," mrs. jung tried to sympathize with you. "i hope you're not too uncomfortable talking about this."

"no, it's okay, i've moved on," you pressed your lips together into a smile. "and although i'm not exactly in the best place financially, i'm pretty happy with my life right now. the experiences i've gathered and all of the wonderful people i've met— i'm very thankful for all of that."

after your mini speech, you looked over to jaehyun, who was looking at you with an expression that you weren't able to pinpoint.

"you really are an amazing person, miss y/n."

the words that left jaehyun's lips left you stunned, unable to think of a response. he might've said this to you through chat but this time he was looking at you— looking at you so so intently that you lost your entire train of thought.

"oh— um, thanks," you managed to sputter out before going back to your food.

"you know, dear, i'd be more than willing to help you with your financial situation right now," jaehyun's mother says and you politely decline.

"no, no, it's okay! i've saved up quite a bit already, and on top of my many part time jobs, my art has been doing pretty well recently," you explain. "i don't think it would be right for me to take money from you."

mrs. jung thinks momentarily before speaking up. "art? are you an artist, y/n?"

"i remember her mentioning it to me at one point," jaehyun joins in the conversation.

"well... i'm not exactly well known but i do a bit of freelance work here and there," you meekly mumbled. "i also do commissions."

until now, you couldn't tell what exactly was going on in jaehyun's head, but mrs. jung seems to be elated from your words.

"that sounds wonderful, dear!" jaehyun's mother beamed. "if you aren't too busy, i'd like to commission you, as well."

"really?"

you perked up from hearing her suggestion. you still had a few paintings lined up to be finished, but you'd be a fool to pass up on this opportunity.

"i still have some things to work on," you began. "but if you could wait until those are finished, then i see no problem!"

"there's no rush, dear! work on it as you see fit— we can discuss the details privately in a later time."

"alright, thank you so much, mrs. jung! i'll be sure not to disappoint you."

the day went on and the lunch you spent with the two jung's was over. after bidding then goodbye and thanking them for the nice meal, jaehyun had insistently offered to drive you home, but you politely declined, saying that you can just take the bus instead.

sitting on one of the benches at the bus stop, you pulled out your ear buds, deciding to listen to music as you waited. today wasn't as bad as you expected. jungwoo and haechan were wrong about mrs. jung— she may be a bit excessive and a bit too evasive regarding her son's affairs, she seemed like a genuine and sweet lady, none the less.

amidst your thoughts, you felt someone sitting beside you so you instinctively scooted away. you heard a cough from the said person, so you looked over to them. surprised, you pulled your ear buds away.

"jaehyun?"

"miss y/n," he looked at you. "i would like to formally apologize for my mother's behavior— she tends to cross boundaries without meaning to, i hope you don't take anything against her."

to be honest, you never expected jaehyun to run after you. it appears that the tables have turned seeing that he looks extremely out of place in his expensive looking coat inside the vicinity of the run-down bus stop. jaehyun still looked a bit embarrassed talking about it seeing that his face was painted a light dust of pink, causing a mirthful laugh to bubble in your throat.

"it's okay," you smiled at him in assurance. "i was definitely caught off guard, but i can see that your mother doesn't have any ill intentions."

jaehyun let out a sigh, visibly easing up upon your response.

"thank you for understanding," he gave a you smile and you were taken aback— jung jaehyun smiled at you for the first time that day and holy shit he has dimples.

before you can conjure up a response, the bus came into view and you stood up in haste, moving closer into the street. as the vehicle neared, you looked behind to see that jaehyun was now on his feet but he was yet to leave. the both of you made eye contact and you grinned at him.

"i'll be going now, jaehyun. thank you for today!"

his expression mirrored yours, hands snugly tucked into the pockets of his coat.

"likewise, miss y/n."

you curtly nodded before finally entering the bus. as you sat down, you looked outside the window only to see jaehyun still in the same position as before but he had his phone in his hand, fingers tapping away at the screen. he noticed you looking at him, giving you a small wave before walking away.

your phone buzzed from inside your back and you quickly took it out. a laugh escaped your lips and a wide smile blossomed into your face.

gold painted canvas

the classic rich boy and poor girl love story but with less prejudice and more happiness

13 // safe ride home

a/n: written part!! :D pls enjoy hehet <3

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[2seokfan]

Scarlet & Hazel | Ch. 1

pairings: hoseok x reader x yoongi

genre: fluff, very light angst, smut (future)

word count: 3.6k

chapters: ch.1, ch.2, ch.3, ch.4

summary: 

Just cause you’re living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment even after graduating college doesn’t mean you’re not happy. So what if your best friend is working her dream job making close to six figures every year?  So what if she’s in a loving, committed relationship with her perfect boyfriend that you’re 99% sure is going to propose to her sometime next year? It doesn’t matter that your idea of a perfect relationship is a $9.99 bottle of wine on Friday nights while you binge watch Netflix specials.

Ok so maybe you’re a teensy bit miserable. Maybe you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Maybe all you need to do is accidentally cross paths with two hybrids who will drastically change that.

Meet “Scarlet” and “Hazel”, two of the most gorgeous hybrid men you have ever laid eyes on. With their help, you learn that life is an adventure, a rollercoaster with ups and downs, and you were too preoccupied with yourself to climb out of your own predicament. And hey, you’re not much of a romantic, but with these two, you just might change your mind.

note: Hi! This is my first fic ever! I don’t even know if anyone’s gonna read this but I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile so fuck it.

You kicked off your shoes and threw your purse on the couch.

“God my back hurts!” 

Honestly with the amount of random bodily aches you experience on a daily business you could pass for being 70 years old. But this time you knew where the pain stemmed from. You just had to fall asleep awkwardly after a night on your phone. And of course today was a work day and you slept past all THREE of your alarms. But you know that feeling when you sleep for a suspiciously long amount of time and something doesn’t feel right? That’s the sixth sense that saved your ass this morning because your internal body clock was like sweetie I think you’re late. 

You only had time to slap on some makeup, hoping it looked semi decent, and throw your greasy hair into a messy, but passable bun because no one wants to see an ugly receptionist. You had to skip your morning Starbucks drive-through routine because you’re about to be LATE, late so you grab your keys and start your car, booking it to work.

You work at a private hybrid clinic which pays a little better than most but that means you also have to deal with a lot of attitude from rich “owners” (you hate that word). And you sat weirdly at work today so that did nOThing to help your back pain. Also how come everybody decided to book an appointment today?? It’s Friday for god's sake why does everyone and their mothers decide it’s time to call the clinic and book a checkup. They get so mad at you when you say this whole month is filled. You can’t change the schedule though?? The calendar’s filled lady either get over it and settle for next month or fuck off (of course you don’t say that out loud cause you’ll get fired). Also someone yelled at you today because they didn’t like the magazine choices in the waiting room.

Anyways your day sucked and you couldn’t be happier being back in your tiny apartment to binge watch netflix stand-up comedies until you collapse. Well you say it’s your apartment but you actually have a roommate. She’s nothing like you though, she’s the epitome of responsibility. You agreed to live with her even though you met her through Craigslist because once you met her in person you deemed her genuine enough, and also found out she’s hardly ever at the apartment but she still pays rent on time?! You really hit the jackpot with her honestly. Cause you can be a little bit messy sometimes but even when she is home she never complains. The only negative side of having her as a roommate is that you never really had time to bond with her cause she’s so busy and over your league that even after a year you two still aren’t anything more than friendly acquaintances.

Alright time to get out of your work clothes and into nothing but your favorite oversized t-shirt with no pants on because that is what you deem home-appropriate attire. But before you turn on netflix your tummy is making “feed me” noises so it’s time to check the fridge. Damn no leftovers. Time to crack open one of those Trader Joe’s frozen meals you have stacked in the freezer. You blindly pick a box. Guess you’re having vegan tikka masala tonight. Not gonna lie though those frozen meals are actually not half bad. Or maybe you’ve been away from good home cooking for so long you’ve become desensitized? Who cares, you’re hungry. Also it’s Friday, so no harm in cracking open a bottle of wine right?

When you’re all settled on the couch with your favorite plush blanket on your legs, a random comedian on tv, and a full tummy, your mind drifts away. It’s Saturday tomorrow and you have the weekends off. Maybe you should do something fun for yourself to make up for the crap you had to deal with today. You text your best friend Karli. You know she’s awake since it’s only 10pm.

You: Hey girl wanna go to the beach or smth tmrw?? <3

Karli: Yaaas ok I don’t work!! What time?

You: and we can walk around all the fancy stores and get coffee from that place we love.

You: hmmm how bout meet there @11??

Karli: Sounds good sweetie want me to pick you up?

You: no its ok ill meet u there i need to buy groceries after

Karli: Kk love ya see you then!!!

You: love ya! night bby

Karli knows that when you say “go to the beach” you really mean walk along the beach and the nearby stores because it’s early June and prime tourist season. That means the sand is packed with people and their kids and the water’s probably filled with pee so you’re not really down for that. Also the expensive shops near the beach are so cute and you love walking around window shopping, pretending like you can actually afford any of the items on display.

The wine is now getting to you cause before you know it you find your eyelids getting heavy. You muster up your last ounce of strength to turn off the tv and force yourself out of the couch cause your poor back doesn’t need another excuse to keep hurting. As much as you don’t want to wash your face and brush your teeth, you have to because you don’t want makeup on your pillowcase tonight. And when you finally crawl into bed you knock out instantly.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

“Oh fuck…”

You forgot that drunk you last night set an alarm today for 9am. Thank you drunk Y/N. 

Why 9am? Because you need to shower and get ready, plus the beach you’re going to is near the north part of the city, which is also the expensive part of the city, meaning it’s a LONG ways from where you live. But the stores are aesthetically pleasing and it contains both you and Karli’s favorite coffee shop so you’re willing to make the 25 minute drive. Karli doesn’t have to worry though because she lives a lot closer than you do. Girl has got her shit together. Honestly you’re just glad she decided to move back after graduate school cause the long distance friend thing sucks balls.

You hop in the shower and rinse yourself awake. The weather is perfect, warm but not too hot. Unlike many people who prefer to dress up for a nice outing, you’re just the opposite. You’ve been forced to dress in nice business attire with a full face of makeup all week. Hell no are you dressing up on your days off too. It’s a sweatpants and tank top kinda day so that’s exactly what you wear. Ever since college you’ve spoiled yourself into only wearing comfy clothes whenever you have the chance and it’s become a minor problem in your life. You have some perfectly nice jeans in the closet but you haven’t worn them in forever. And you’re not gonna wear them today either. And makeup? Who needs makeup? You’ll just go barefaced since you have no one to impress. Actually just kidding maybe a little concealer just to cover up a few rough spots but that’s IT. You’re still a little self conscious and you know you have to work on that but not today.

It’s now 10:15. You grab your purse from the couch, slip on your favorite pair of slides and head to your car. You’re the kind of person who absolutely needs music when you drive so you quickly start blasting your favorite playlist. Before you know it, you’re pulling up to the beach area. Parking is hard to find on the weekend but your lucky ass managed to squeeze into a street parking spot right as someone pulls out. You lock your car and make the trek to Cozy Coffeehouse, your favorite coffee shop hands down.

Karli is already here and she’s hopping up and down, waving at you. She looks super cute today in her little black dress and fishnets. She’s had the same taste since high school and you’re glad that even a Master’s degree hasn’t stopped her from dressing all punk on her days off. You jog over and give her a quick hug.

“Hey girl look at you!! You’re so cute!” You take in her makeup and you swear if she didn’t go the corporate route she definitely should have been a makeup artist. Her eyeshadow is amazing and you’ll never ever have the blending talent that she has, nor could you ever get your eyeliner to look that sharp.

“Aw thanks! You look comfy though I’m kinda jealous now maybe I should’ve dressed down.” 

“No I love your outfits! Besides, someone has to look nice in this relationship.”

You link arms and march into the cafe. It’s located near the fancy designer stores on a large hill overlooking the beach. When you step inside the whole atmosphere screams ‘cozy’, fitting its name perfectly. The interior is littered with mismatched sofas and armchairs but it somehow still looks aesthetically pleasing. Soft piano jazz is playing through speakers and when you step inside the delicious scent of freshly ground coffee beans immediately invades your nostrils.

You glance at their pastry display first. Today must be your lucky day because they have tiramisu and you absolutely love tiramisu but it’s usually sold out. No way in hell are you letting this chance slide, fuck breakfast norms you’re definitely getting a bite of that. Unfortunately you’re not a fan of sugary treats on top of sugary drinks so to balance things out you choose to order their house brew.

After you two order, you find a spot in one of the plush armchairs near the window and sit. You really are lucky today since window seats are usually taken. But not this time! You guys get to enjoy the gorgeous scenery displayed before you. The sun is bright, people are laying on the beach tanning, and kids are splashing each other with water. For the first time in awhile, you feel content with life, if only for a bit. 

Before long your orders are called out and you stand up to retrieve them. Once you’re settled, you break into conversation with Karli, eager to catch up on everything that happened since you two last spoke face-to-face. You talk about work, Karli’s boyfriend Sunny, that new pizza place that opened up near your apartment that actually has really shitty pizza.

“Like seriously how do you fuck up pizza that badly?” you exclaim in between generous bites of tiramisu.

“No I get you,” Karli responds, slurping her iced mocha frappuchino, “everybody knows what pizza is supposed to taste like, I mean it’s gotta take talent to actually fuck it up to the level you’re describing girl.”

“Exactly!!” You wave your arms in the air, wanting to physically demonstrate your frustration at the situation and your passion for good pizza.

“Anyways…” Karli gently sets her drink down and takes on a more serious tone. “How are you though, honestly.”

“Hmm, me?” You swallow your last bite of tiramisu, “I’m doing good. Works ok, life’s ok. You know. Everything’s… ok.”

“I get that everything’s ‘ok’ but you know I want you to be more than ok. I want you to be happy”

You see the genuine concern in her eyes. Bless this girl for being so soft-hearted.

She continues, “And when was the last time you dated? Like, what, 2 years ago??”

Of course she has to mention dating. Karli has always been a romantic. You? Not so much. Your brain tended to err on the logical, practical side, which is not always a good idea since it keeps you away from many potential relationships.

“I date!” You scoff, but you’re not convincing anybody, least of all yourself.

“Oh really?” Her eyes widen in mock surprise, “Tinder one night stands don’t count babe. You know what I mean.”

“Well you didn’t specify…” You mumble, trying to come up with any excuse to defend your pride. You know she’s just being a good friend and that she’s asking because she cares about you, so you don’t let her questions irritate you.

“Sweetie I’m not trying to make you feel bad and I’m sorry if it comes across that way. It’s just… you mean a lot to me and you’re my bestie and I just want to see you be happy.” She takes your hand from across the table and looks you in the eyes. “We don’t get to see each other as much as we used to, so when I do I want to check in on how you’re doing.”

Then she averts her eyes, which you find highly suspicious. “Also I may or may not have found someone who I KNOW will be a perfect match for you.”

“AHA I KNEW you were leading up to something!”

“Wait but hear me out. He’s an accountant and at first I was like hmmm is he too boring for Y/N? But then I realized I was judging him by his job and that’s not cool so I talked to him and he’s, like, actually super cute and super sweet and I think you two will get along so well!” She’s speaking very fast at this point, trying to squeeze out as much information as possible before you can interject. Then she finishes with one of her signature Karli smiles, big and wide and all teeth and she knows you can’t say no to that face.

“Dammit. Fine.” You lost this round. “Alright if he wants to meet up I won’t say no. How bout that?”

“Gee that’s so thoughtful of you Y/N.” Her tone is sarcastic but she’s still smiling so you know she means no harm.

After another half hour of conversation, locked in a heated debate about food again (this time she’s defending her stance that pineapple belongs on pizza), Karli’s phone rings. The sound scares the poor girl half to death, and watching her jump a mile from her couch had you snorting into your coffee mid drink.

She looks at the caller ID, muttering under her breath, “It’s Saturday what do they want?” then glances up with a sad little pout, “Sorry Y/N it’s work gimme a sec…”

From what you can hear on her side of the conversation, something has come up and she has to head to the office right away. 

“Ok I’ll be there in fifteen,” she hangs up and gives an exaggerated “Ughhhhh”. She takes one large gulp, finishing the last of her ultra sweet, ultra whipped frappuccino. “It’s like they can’t do anything when I’m not there.” She looks especially apologetic when her eyes land back on you, “I’m so sorry I have to cut this short…”

“Hey it’s ok! Duty calls ya know,” you give her a reassuring grin, hoping it passes for a smile instead of a grimace. You were really hoping to hang out today.

“No it’s not ok. We didn’t even get to walk around today! And I know how much you like to do that.” She stands up, slipping her purse onto her shoulder, “so next time I’ll plan a day where I guarantee I won’t get interrupted. It’s the least I can do.”

“Mk sounds good babe,” you give her a big hug, “Go get ‘em tiger!”

After she exits the cafe you finish the last bit of your coffee and glance out the window, staring at the people on the beach. Wow it’s really crowded down there today. You zone in on two kids attempting to build a sandcastle, but it’s too close to the water so the waves flatten it in two seconds. But it seems they didn’t learn their lesson because they keep rebuilding the castle in the same spot. Just move it further up little dudes.

You find yourself lost in thought again. Just because Karli’s suddenly busy doesn’t mean you don’t still have a whole day to yourself. You can walk around on your own. Also why not treat yourself to another drink? A fun one this time from their specials menu.

Ten minutes later you find yourself wandering around the various shops, hot hazelnut latte in hand, gazing at display after display of designer clothes and bags. Look, you may not be a huge fashion person, or have any expendable cash, but a girl can still appreciate art, especially when it’s laid out so nicely in front of you. 

Speaking of art, there’s an art gallery coming up that you absolutely love. You’ve always been too afraid to go inside because you’re the type of person who feels obligated to buy something if you enter a local store and you DEFinitely can’t afford anything there. So you opt to loiter outside, like some creep, looking a little too long at the featured art through the window. This time it’s an Impressionist style painting of a ship on hazy waters with a sunset in the background. You’re no artist but you can appreciate good quality work when you see it. The piece is mesmerizing and serene, transfixing you to the spot. Before you know it, you’ve been staring for 15 whole minutes.

While admiring the artist’s use of color on the display piece, you overhear a lady raising her voice not too far away, snapping you out of your trance. It sounds like drama, so being the nosy bitch that you are, you’re definitely gonna check it out, if only to satisfy your curiosity.

“What do you mean ‘no’?! You’ll be perfect for each other!! Where’s your owner I bet he’ll listen!” At this point the lady’s voice is sounding downright aggressive.

As you shuffle closer to the scene of the noise, you spot a middle-aged, blonde lady pointing her finger at two hybrid men, almost jabbing one of them in the chest with her sharp, ruby nails. Behind her stands a gorgeous female arctic fox hybrid who clearly belongs to her as she pats her owner’s shoulders, trying to calm her down.

“I’m sorry miss but we just aren’t interested.” The taller of the two hybrids with orange hair speaks up, gently pushing the lady’s hands away. “Please leave us alone.” He’s being surprisingly calm, even after getting yelled at in public.

“Yeah lady get out of our faces,” the other white and grey haired hybrid is definitely more agitated, crossing his arms as he huffs in annoyance. You don’t blame him since the blonde lady is being ridiculously rude.

You can’t really make out the two males’ faces, since they’re turned away from you, but they are obviously hybrids. Both having incredibly bushy, soft-looking tails and tall, pointy ears sticking out of their heads.

Even if you can’t see their expressions, you can tell they’re uncomfortable with the harassment. Since you’re still somewhat unaware of the context, you stay out of the argument but decide to keep an eye on the situation in case the lady steps out of line. You’re just slightly around the corner, able to stay a safe distance away so that no one, especially the lady, can catch you eavesdropping. Pretending to admire the Gucci purses displayed in front of the shop you’re now standing at, and almost choking at the price, you cautiously side-eye blondie as she refuses to back down from the hybrid boys.

“Listen here you rude little pets, I’m not leaving you alone until I see your owner. My Sylvia here,” she gestures to the fox hybrid behind her, “would make a perfect partner for you.” She pokes the orange haired hybrid again, “I’ve been searching so long for her to find a mate and I’m not giving you up! Now where the hell is your owner!”

What the fuck?! How dare this lady talk to them like that? And in public no less! You now know exactly why she’s yelling at them. Working at a private hybrid clinic has opened your eyes to the harsh world of hybrids, and their selfish, rich owners. It’s not uncommon for owners to negotiate with each other and breed their hybrids. If two pretty hybrids mate, their children can be sold for loads of money. It's cruel and disgusting, with many of the children sold off before they can even get to know their parents. You’re all too familiar with this tradition, often catching owners in the waiting room of your clinic discussing in whispers about buying and selling hybrid children as if they’re livestock.

“Hey what the fuck did you call us?!” The white and grey hybrid is now also raising his voice. “Listen you wrinkly bi…!” He is quickly silenced by the orange hybrid, who abruptly clamps his hand over his buddy’s mouth.

Orange hair clears his throat. “What he means is, we don’t appreciate the tone you’re using with us. Please leave us alone ma’am. We’ll be on our way. Goodbye.” They attempt to brush past her.

“Hey hold on a minute! I’m not done with you!!” This lady even has the balls to grab onto orange hair’s arm. “I demand to speak to your owner!” Then some sort of realization dawns upon her because her eyes go wide, then quickly narrow. “And where are your collars? Aren’t owned hybrids supposed to have collars on? You know I just might have to call Hybrid Services.” 

You can see the boys visibly tense at her words as she sports a satisfied smirk. Poor Sylvia is now gently tugging on her shirt. “Please calm down, miss…” she says desperately trying to remedy the situation.

Before you know it, and without any plan of action, you round the corner and march up to the boys, standing defensively in front of them.

“Um…” You gulp, then clear your throat, speaking in what you hope is a more confident tone. “Sorry I took so long guys! You wouldn’t believe the line at the coffee shop!”

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